A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis - Robyn Peterman Page 0,45
stick around and when she left, the memories would go with her. The only way a person lived on was in the memories of those who loved them. I couldn’t love my mother unless I knew who she was.
“That would be good. I’d like to get to know Alana. Were you aware she was seeing Clarence Smith?”
Gram scratched her head then sighed. “Can’t rightly say I was. Your mama was real private about her beaus.”
“Did you know the ghost she died for?”
Gram paled and levitated. “No. I didn’t. Once your mama took over as the Death Counselor, I stopped seein’ the dead. Told her she didn’t have to start the job since I was still kickin’, but she said she wanted to. Said it gave her something to be proud of.”
Being a Death Counselor made me feel proud, too. I wondered if I had other things in common with the woman who had given me life.
“How did you find out she’d died?” I asked. “I mean, about the suicide.”
Gram’s movements grew faster and her agitation made her flying clumsy. She fell right out of the air and landed at my feet.
“Oh my God,” I cried out as I gently picked her up and held my weightless grandmother in my arms. “I’m so sorry… so sorry. I know how much this upsets you. I shouldn’t have asked. We can just talk about the happy times. I’m good with that.”
Laying her head on my shoulder, Gram sniffled. “No, little girl,” she whispered brokenly. “You have a right to know everything. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry,” I insisted.
“Nope,” Gram countered. “I’m sorry.”
I almost said it again then shook my head. “How about we agree that we’re both sorry and table this conversation until later?”
“Works for me, child,” she said, smiling. “I get all riled up when I talk about your mama’s… Alana’s death. I guess you never get over the loss of a child.”
My heart hurt and I felt awful. “We don’t have to talk about the sad parts. Ever.”
“We do. Should have hashed it all out when I was alive, but it just never felt right,” she said. “Now that I’m dead, I think we should give it a shot.”
“We have really strange conversations,” I said, relieved that she truly wanted to talk about my mother.
“That we do,” she replied. “That we do, Daisy girl.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You drive fast,” I pointed out.
Gideon glanced over at me and grinned. “I’ve been in the car when you drive.”
“Your point?” I inquired, loving that the morning after the best sex I’d ever had wasn’t awkward in the least.
Everything felt natural and right—the way it was supposed to feel. I still got a little breathless when I looked at him, but I doubted that would ever go away.
“No point,” he said. “Simply an observation that your driving skills make mine look amateur.”
“You’re saying you drive like a granny?” I teased.
“Not sure I would have chosen those words,” he said, highly amused. “However, you definitely win that exchange.”
“Thank you.”
Gideon chuckled. “Wasn’t exactly a compliment, but you’re welcome.”
I was silent as Gideon continued to navigate the country roads. John Travolta didn’t live in town as I’d expected. I was sure he had a mansion on the ritzy side of town, but I was incorrect.
“So, John Travolta is a country kind of guy?” I asked, needing conversation to calm my nerves.
“One could say that.”
“How long has he lived in his house?”
“About a hundred years, I’d guess—maybe a hundred and fifty,” Gideon replied.
I scrunched my nose as questions flooded my brain. “In the same house?”
“Yes.”
“How does that work? I mean, he clearly ages himself, but wouldn’t people catch on? I would have thought you guys would relocate all the time so you wouldn’t get busted for being, you know…”
“Older than dirt?” Gideon finished my sentence with a raised brow.
“I was looking for a nicer way to say it, but yes,” I replied with a sheepish grin.
“The truth is the truth,” he pointed out. “Some of us do move around, but this area has the strongest portal between Heaven and Hell in the Universe.”
“So, most Immortals live around here and reinvent themselves every generation?”
Gideon nodded. “Many do. Occasionally, Immortals have to leave for a while. If we like a particular piece of property or a home, they simply leave it to a family member in their will. Then we take a quick leave of absence and return as the younger niece or nephew of the original owner.”