It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,32

woman on his arm was lovely—petite with big brown eyes that looked at Sam with such love it made me smile.

I saw their courtship, their wedding, the birth of their children, and so many other sweet and loving memories. Sam had led a beautiful life.

And then the images slowed to what felt like real time. My stomach dropped and I knew my eyes had filled with tears. A lone old woman sat on a chair and cried. She was incredibly familiar to me. I’d seen her before… at her husband’s funeral.

I had gone to Sam’s funeral. She was the adorable heartbroken little old lady that I’d given my condolences to after a moving ceremony. Sam had been a well-loved man. My heart hurt a little that I didn’t know him when he was alive. I believe we would have been buddies, just like we were now.

As enlightening as this was, I still didn’t know where Sam’s glasses were.

The old woman had aged since I’d seen her six months ago. She wandered her home searching and searching. What was she looking for?

“Her glasses?” I gasped out.

“They’re in the cookie jar,” Sam said sadly. “My Adaline’s memory is going fast. I knew she’d put her glasses in the cookie jar, but I didn’t want to embarrass her by telling her. I would have died before I would ever hurt her.”

“Are they still in the cookie jar?” I asked.

“Yes. I meant to put them on the counter before we went to bed for her to find in the morning. I hunted down those damn glasses every night and left them right next to the teapot where I knew she’d discover them.”

“And you died that night?” I whispered.

“I did,” Sam confirmed. “She’s been looking for her glasses for six months.”

“Why can’t she get a new pair?” I asked.

“Oh, Daisy, these are very special glasses—well, it’s the chain on the glasses that’s irreplaceable. Her wedding band is on the chain,” he explained. “My Addie has arthritis and can’t wear her ring—hasn’t been able to for years. We got her a chain and put her ring on it—means everything to her. I have to put them out for her just one more time. I need you to help me, Daisy. She’ll know I’m watching after her. I would be indebted to you always.”

“You want me to break into your house and leave her glasses by the teapot?” I asked, not quite following.

“I do.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. I’d always wanted to live a life of semi-crime, but kind of like Robin Hood crime—steal from the rich to feed the poor. This wasn’t a perfect fit, but I got to be a burglar who was helping my friend. Win-win. “Yep. I’ll do it. You just have to help me get out of this weird place I’m in.”

“Open your eyes, little friend,” Sam whispered as his voice began to fade. “Do not walk into the light or the darkness. Let Donna’s bark help you find your way back to the living.”

Well, hell. I was going to have to thank my friends again for my dog. Who knew Donna the Destroyer was such a skilled freak of nature?

My puppy could speak to the dead and bring me back from the land of weird?

She was getting a lot of new chew toys if I came out of this hot mess alive.

As fast as it started, it was over. I’d followed Donna’s bark and ended up right back on my couch. I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d been on the couch physically the entire hellish time, but my mind had definitely not.

Sam was sitting next to me. The room was still full of ghosts who flew around, hovering above me with concern. Donna had hopped up and cuddled in my lap. I tried to pet her, but my arms felt like lead. My entire body was so racked with exhaustion I couldn’t move.

“I’m alive. Right?” I asked a smiling Sam.

“Yausssss. Aaalauuuveee,” he answered me.

My heart constricted for a moment that Sam’s voice had gone back to sounding like he was dead… but he was dead. There was nothing I could do about that. But there was something I could do for him that would make him happy. However, right now I was in no state to do anything. I was bone tired. I’d never known the true meaning of the phrase until now.

“Guys. I’m going to close my eyes for a little bit,” I told all of