I’d discussed it with Steve and he’d suggested porn again. I told him absolutely not, but maybe it wasn’t such a horrible idea. Embarrassing myself with the man who consumed my thoughts and had moved into a place in my heart was terrifying.
Walking over to the door and closing it, I sat down on a can of paint and summoned my lady balls. “Can we talk about something?”
Gideon eyed me warily, pulled a stepstool over and joined me. “As long as you aren’t going to tell me there’s someone else, I’m all ears.”
His vulnerability was what gave me the confidence to let her rip. He treated me with the same fragile care I treated him with—the way people were with each other in the beginning of a relationship.
“I want to sleep with you,” I said, staring at the brush in my hands.
“I’m over here,” he said with amusement in his tone. “That is, unless you’re talking to the paintbrush.”
I groaned and flicked it at him. Tiny cream-colored paint splatters were now in his blond hair. He already had a bunch of paint in his hair. A little more wouldn’t make a difference.
“You suck,” I told him, making a face. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he said, removing the brush from my hands and taking them in his. “This is very good news. Why are you upset?”
“Not upset,” I promised. “Worried. Terrified.”
Putting his arms around me, he pulled me close. “You’re not the only one,” he said quietly. “I’m pretty sure once I see you naked, it might be over before it even starts.”
“Seriously?” I asked with a giggle.
“Deadly,” he replied. “Sex is just like painting—practice makes perfect.”
I sighed with such audible relief, Gideon laughed. His laugh made me laugh. I’d had no clue that communication and honesty were so sexy and freeing. I was tempted to bang him in the half-painted office. However, getting caught by my friends was enough to put a kibosh on that plan.
“Tonight,” I told him as his smile grew wider. “My house. I’ll tell the squatters to disappear for a while.”
“What about Steve?” Gideon asked.
“He’s been staying with Gram all week in hopes I would come to my senses and bang you,” I said, shaking my head. “He loves us together.”
“As do I,” Gideon said.
Someone so beautiful shouldn’t be so good with words. It was fabulous that he sucked at painting.
Neither one of us had said the L word to each other. The thought of it unnerved me. What I’d thought was love between a man and a woman had not even been remotely right. I loved Steve, but as a friend—a best friend. The reality that I hadn’t been able to figure that out until now made me mistrust my judgment about the entire concept.
“Daisy,” Jennifer called out. “Can you come look at this? I think I mucked up the plumbing under the sink.”
“Why are you doing plumbing work?” I yelled back, horrified. Jennifer was a disaster with anything that had a moving part. She’d single-handedly blown up three copy machines.
“The plumber didn’t show up and I wanted to surprise Heather.”
“Heather will certainly be surprised,” I muttered as I stood up and grabbed a belt with tools on it.
“It’s a damned good thing we’re in public,” Gideon said, wincing and rearranging his junk in his jeans. “I’d bang the hell out of you with that tool belt on.”
“Oh my God,” I said with a laugh. “You’re insane.”
“No. I’m in love,” he replied. “With you.”
The tool belt fell to the floor and my rear end joined it. Speech eluded me, but over the ringing in my ears, I was fairly sure I heard Gideon tell Jennifer I would be there shortly. He gathered me up in his strong arms and joined me on the floor.
“Wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said.
“I…”
“You do not have to say it back, Daisy. That’s not why I told you,” he said slowly, as if each word that came out of his mouth was as much of a surprise to him as it was to me. “I’m not even sure what the word means, but I’ve never felt like this in the entire time I’ve existed. It has to be love. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Try,” I whispered. “Try to explain it.”
Gideon was quiet for a long moment as he buried his nose in my hair. “I suppose it’s more of a feeling of excitement and peace. I’d given up so long ago that anyone would ever see me—the real me.”
I stayed silent and waited. My heart beat so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.
“When I saw you, I felt things… emotions… very unwelcome,” he went on. “I blew it off as lust. Lust would pass. I refused to act on base human needs. Plus, we would be interacting with each other and I didn’t need to complicate things. But then you screwed everything up.”
“How?”
I could literally feel his smile even though I was staring at my knees.
“You were you, Daisy,” he said. “It’s hard to explain. Your smile. Your compassion. The loyalty to your friends. I was jealous of your damn Hell Hound when I first saw you holding her. It was ludicrous. I had no clue what to make of it.”
Again, I waited for more.
“So, I decided to get to know you… feeling certain after I knew you, the ridiculous things I was experiencing would go away.”
“And they didn’t?” I asked.
“Can’t you tell?” he inquired, pulling me closer. “All of a sudden I’m alive after being invisible for millions of years.”
The millions-of-years part was a little shocking since we’d never talked age in numbers, but everything else was damn near perfect.
“Can I admit something?” I asked, raising my eyes to his, feeling sexy and beautiful despite the paint all over me and my ten-year-old overalls.
“Yes.”
“I thought I knew what love was when I married Steve. And I did love him, but it was safe and secure… and it was a lie. I wouldn’t change my time with Steve even if I could. I’m who I am now because of what my life has been,” I said, feeling sort of like I was having an out-of-body experience. Who was this woman speaking?
It was me, and I liked her—was proud of her… was rooting for her to win. “I have no definition of love between a man and a woman, but if it means that thoughts of you and your well-being consume me, every time I see you it feels like Christmas and the thought of spending every minute for the rest of time is love then…” I paused and gathered my jumbled thoughts. I realized I was no longer scared. “This all feels so fast and I’m nuts, but I’ve never been so happy in my life. I’m in love with you, Grim Reaper.”
Gideon’s grin lit his face, making him go from gorgeous to otherworldly beautiful. He stole my breath and my heart.
“Counselor, I’ll take very good care of your love,” he said, kissing me senseless. “You have my word.”
“And I’ll take good care of yours too,” I promised. “Always.”
Jennifer marched into the room twenty minutes later and screamed with delight as she caught Gideon and me in a make-out session worthy of two teenagers—at least we were still dressed.
“Better than porn,” she cackled. “Get your ass to the bathroom sink, Daisy. Lover boy is gonna have to wait unless you wanna make out in a swimming pool.”
“On it,” I said with a bright pink blush staining my cheeks. “I’m on it.”
As I ran out of the room with my tool belt and Jennifer on my heels, she pulled me to a stop.
“Baby, I believe with all my heart that Steve would be real happy for you,” she told me.
I smiled and wanted to cry. She was right. She had no clue how right she was.
“Thank you.” I gave her a hug and rested my head on her shoulder. “I think he would be too.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Steve,” I yelled as I tossed my purse on the foyer table. “You’re going to be so proud of me.”
There was
no answer. Maybe he was with Gram. Although, I’d popped into the nursing home after I’d fixed the sink and Steve wasn’t there. Jennifer had been profusely thankful that I’d been able to stop the leak and offered to take me out to our favorite Mexican place. I took a rain check. Of course, the tardy plumber arrived right when I’d finished. He’d been impressed with my handiwork, but I was sure by the time he was finished he would leave a hefty bill. Jennifer had also had a go at trying to repair the toilet.
“Steve,” I called out again. “I have news! Get your butt out here.”
I’d used my new lady balls and told Gram about Gideon last week. She’d rolled her eyes and informed me that Gideon had already been by to tell her. He’d earned massive points by watching a marathon of The Price is Right with her.
She’d apparently grilled him and made him swear on his life that he wasn’t gay. I was delighted to have missed that. In the end, he’d convinced her he was straight and had noble intentions. She was surprisingly fine with the fact that her granddaughter who could see the dead was dating the Grim Reaper.
Weird didn’t even begin to define my life. But my life had never been so good.
“Steve, where are you?”
I searched the family room and the kitchen. There were ten new squatters in different stages of decomposition who’d taken up residence. The superglue had been put to good use. There was one gal who lost her hand several times a day. Thankfully, she thought it was hilarious when I glued it back on. I kind of hoped she stayed around for a while. She was a hoot.
I’d tried the Ouija board with some of my guests, but they didn’t have anything to tell me. My guess was that they weren’t quite ready yet. It didn’t concern me. They would come to me when the time was right.
“Steve?”
An alarming thought hit me. Had Steve gone into the light while I wasn’t here? He’d accomplished his goal for coming back. I felt whole and I’d found my person.
Horrible thoughts accelerated in my mind. They wouldn’t slow down and breathing took effort. I stood still and gathered myself. Steve would roll his eyes at my mini panic attack. We were going to laugh about this as soon as I found him.
I was pretty sure I had to be with the dead in order for them to go into the light, but I’d only been doing it for a few weeks. Starting to feel desperate, I ran through the house looking for my best friend.
“Donna, have you seen Steve?” I demanded as I yanked open the back door and scanned the yard, feeling sick to my stomach. Steve liked to sit under the oak and listen to the birds.
He wasn’t there.
Donna barked but didn’t wag her tail.
“Does that mean yes?” I questioned, sprinting to the stairs and taking them two at a time. Steve and I still had more places to go. There was no way he’d left without saying goodbye.
He’d recently asked to see his gravesite.
I didn’t want to go. It felt morbid. I’d made excuses to get out of driving him to the cemetery. Shit. Who the hell was I not to let him do what he wanted? If he needed to see where he was buried, I should have taken him. We’d do it today.
“Steve,” I yelled, going from room to room.
Something was wrong. I felt it in my bones and my heart. Could someone die twice? My breath started to come in gasps and the chances of me passing out grew high. Steve would never let me live it down if he found me out cold in the hallway.
“Answer me now,” I shouted.
“Daaaauusayy,” I heard a voice call out weakly from our bedroom.
“No, no, no,” I hissed as tears filled my eyes and I slowly pushed the door open.
Steve was on the bed. His eyes were huge and he looked terrified. His state of decay had increased—most of his body was transparent. If I didn’t know in my heart it was him, I might not have recognized my best friend.
The room began to spin and I got down on my hands and knees so I wouldn’t fall. Crawling over to the bed, I tried to steady my breathing so everything would slow down and I could help him. My heart pounded in my chest so fast and hard, I wondered briefly if I was having a heart attack.
“Steve,” I choked out as I pulled myself up onto the bed and lay next to him. “What happened? What’s going on?”
“Daaaauusayy. Sooorahy,” he told me, trying to move closer.
He couldn’t. It was like he was lying in state… in a coffin. His dead body was rigid and his pale coloring was now dark gray. Holding back a scream was difficult, but I reminded myself it was Steve—my best friend in the world. It would never matter to me what he looked like on the outside. His insides were pristine and beautiful.
“It’s okay. Nothing to be sorry about,” I said, gently stroking his forehead. “Something is going on and I’ll fix it. Don’t you worry, baby. I’ve got you.”
Steve closed his eyes as much as he could and I think he tried to smile. I had no idea if I was just a conduit for the dead to leave this plane or if I had more power than I was aware of. Could I help him? Shit. I didn’t even know what was happening.
Glancing around the room, I looked for the golden light. It was absent… but a blackish-gray mist was beginning to seep in through the crown molding and from invisible cracks in the floorboards. The smell was rancid, and I swallowed back my bile. My heart skipped beats and my head throbbed. Steve moaned quietly next to me, and I realized that freaking out would accomplish nothing.
“It will be fine. Everything will be fine,” I said, more to myself than him, rolling off the bed and grabbing a basket of clean laundry. I quickly covered Steve with Gram’s afghan to protect him, and then tried to stop the progression of gray-black mist with towels, jeans, t-shirts and sweats. I ran around the room stuffing clean clothes into every crack and crevice that was leaking the deadly fog.
It wasn’t working.
“What do I do?” I muttered frantically. “What the hell do I do?”
Moving back to the bed, I covered Steve with our quilt and wrapped my arms around him. It was a long shot, but maybe he could help me. It would be difficult to understand him, but there was no way in hell I would leave him alone to get the Ouija board.
“Steve,” I said, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice. “Can you tell me what’s happening? Just talk slow. I’ll be able to understand, baby.”
“Daaaurk.”
“No. You can’t go to the dark,” I growled, glaring at the murky haze and willing it to disappear. “You’re going into the light.”
“Naawwwooo,” he grunted. “Suuuuausiidea.”
“Suicide?” I asked as my gut clenched and my vision blurred. “You didn’t commit suicide.”
“Naawwwooo.”
“Steve, I need you to be straight with me,” I said, and then laughed. It was the most inappropriate laughter that had ever left my lips in my entire life. I’d just told my gay husband I needed him to be straight.
“Fauuhnny,” Steve said in the midst of both of our lives being blown up.
“I’m a regular stand-up comedian,” I said, trying not to cry. “I need you to tell me the truth. Did you commit suicide? I won’t be mad. I need to know.”
“Naawwwooo.”
I heaved a sigh of relief and tried to formulate a plan. For what? I didn’t know. My brain raced a mile a minute and Steve grew more transparent with each second that passed.
“There’s been a mistake,” I whispered to Steve. “What’s happening is wrong. I’m going to stop it.”
“Daaaauusayy. Sooorahy,” Steve whispered. “Laaavaue yooooah alllwauyas.”
“I love you always too,” I told him. “Always.”
I was here to help the dead move on. As far as I knew, they couldn’t do it unless I aided them. The sheer backup of ghosts a few weeks ago was proof of that. Not one of my squatters had gone on without my assistance.
If I left the room, would the darkness not be able to take him? I couldn’t leave him. Not one single thing in this world could pull me away from Steve right now. The house could be
on fire and I wouldn’t move.
Could I refuse to let him leave?
“You can’t have him,” I ground out through clenched teeth as the mist grew more menacing and thicker.
Shit.
Could I quit my job and end this horrifying madness? If there was no one to lead the dead, the dead couldn’t go anywhere. It was worth a shot.
“I quit,” I shouted. “I quit. I will no longer help the dead. Do you hear me?” I screamed, having no clue who I was shouting at. God? Satan? I didn’t care. If anyone would listen, that worked for me.
Maybe my lack of belief was going to come back and bite me. Was there a higher power involved? If there was, could they, or it, even hear me?
The mist began to dissipate a little and my confidence increased.
“I do not accept the role of Death Counselor. Never again will I help anyone cross over. I QUIT.”
An eerie howl that sent shivers all through my body came from the floor and the walls. The deadly cloud of gray-black mist began to retreat, leaving sparkling charred-black crystals behind.
My relief was a physical ache that tore through my body like a searing-hot knife. Steve was still here and the mist had evaporated. I had no clue what the repercussions of what I’d just done would be, but I didn’t care. I’d die before I’d let Steve go where he didn’t belong.
“It’s gone,” I whispered, falling back on the bed and biting down on my bottom lip so I didn’t sob.
Steve still looked hideous. Not one of the squatters had ever improved as far as decay went. I had no idea if Steve would be stuck in the state he was in now.
Turning to him, it took every bit of effort in my body to smile and make it look genuine. I was a bad liar and wore my emotions on my face, but I was grateful he was still here. That part was real. I just hoped my expression showed it.
“It’s over,” I told him. “You’re not going anywhere. And someday when I die, we can see the world like we always wanted to.”
“Daaaauusayy. Sooorahy,” he choked out.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said. “Someday we’ll go haunt houses and scare people we didn’t like.”
It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis : A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel: Good To The Last Death Book One Page 26
