Page 45 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

“I lovey,” I replied, dabbing at my eyes again.

He let out a squeal of triumphant joy. “I knew you would. I feel like a grand fairy godmother.”

“And a wonderful one at that,” I told him, still misty-eyed. I glanced around at my four fabulous friends, my heart bursting with love for them. My voice was hoarse with emotion. “You’re all so wonderful. Thank you. This. All of this has made me so happy. Marrying Gideon is the only thing that could possibly make me happier.”

“Then I say we get you dressed and down the aisle,” Carl said, sobbing happy tears.

Dirk, Fred and Wally joined him. The five of us were a sight to behold, crying and laughing as they fit me into my gown.

It was a damned good thing Dirk had used waterproof mascara.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I stood on the front porch of the house Gideon and I had created together with love and gazed out over the yard in shock. My tummy flipped, but it wasn’t from fear or stress. It was from giddiness and joy. Normally, the yard was grass and trees. Today, it was not.

Someone, or a bunch of someones, had converted our property into an exquisite garden. It was pure magic. Candles hung overhead in the air, floating on a gentle and fragrant breeze. Scattered peach and pale-pink rose petals created a path leading to a gazebo covered in vines bursting with white, cream and dusty rose-colored blossoms. Flowers and ornamental grasses swayed in the light wind while the clouds in the sky appeared larger and puffier. Flocks of wildly colored birds darted in and out of the trees and the winter sun bathed the entire picture in a warm golden glow.

“Oh my,” I whispered, taking it all in with delight. June had given me some solid advice ten minutes earlier as I’d waited in the foyer for the wedding to begin.

“Once the dress is on, don’t worry about it getting messed up,” she said sagely. “It will at some point and who cares? Listen to the ceremony, and don’t get wasted at the reception.”

They were logical and smart pointers, just like my buddy June. I added one more thought to the list—take in the beauty around me and treasure it.

“You look so lovely, Daisy girl,” Gram said as she hovered next to me. “Lemme tell you, I’m so dang excited to walk my baby down the aisle, I think my head might fall off! Kiddin’!” she added to my relief. Having to superglue Gram’s head back on during the wedding march might kill some of the romantic atmosphere. The old ghost chuckled and then gazed at me fondly. “You bein’ happy just dills my pickles. You look as fine as a frog hair split four ways.”

I giggled. Gram was being vintage Gram. “I love you and thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, caressing my cheek with her papery hand.

“For loving me. For raising me. For staying with me,” I said, pulling out a tissue and putting it to good use. “And for walking me down the aisle.”

“Pleasure is all mine, baby girl,” she told me. “All mine.”

Dabbing at my eyes so I didn’t have a streaky, tear-stained face, I gazed at the stunning picture in front of me. There were several rows of seating. Everyone was here—Heather and Missy held hands and leaned into each other the way people who loved each other did. Tim, Jennifer, June and Charlie sat together. June held a sleepy Alana Catherine on her lap, and my fur babies, Donna and Karen lay on the ground at her feet. Charlie’s arm was draped over June’s shoulders, and Jennifer, with a bottle of wine in hand, cooed at my baby. As my friend liked to say… it was five o’clock somewhere. Tim, dapper in his mail uniform, had added a bow tie and a top hat to his look. It was a massive fashion faux pas—so wrong it was absolutely right. Instead of a notebook and pen, today, my socially awkward buddy had a camera and was snapping pictures. I knew this day would stay in my heart and my memories, but it would be lovely to have physical reminders.

Zander and his sister Catriona sat with my Angle siblings—Rafe, Gabe, Abby and Prue. Tory and Amelia rounded out the group. Amelia sat next to Rafe and their connection was undeniable. The energy around them was electric. Everyone was dressed to the nines and looked like they’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. Zander couldn’t take his eyes off of Prue. She studiously ignored him, of course, but the small smile pulling at her lips was a dead giveaway that she was into it. There was a story developing there, and I had my fingers crossed for a happily ever after. However, the biggest story of that grouping was Gabe and Tory. Tory no longer denied her feelings for my brother. They were taking it slow, but they had an eternity to get it right. Both of them were glowing… literally.

Their love story had been thousands of years in the making, and I had a feeling it was about to unfold into a beautiful ending.

“It’s almost time,” Gram said softly. “You ready?”

“More ready than I’ve ever been,” I told her with a smile so wide it hurt my cheeks. “Where’s Gideon?”

“He’ll be coming out with Candy Vargo in just a sec,” she told me. “That boy has it bad for you. He’s been walking around grinin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater!”

“That makes two of us,” I said with a laugh.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were running the show. Dirk seated the last of the guests. Wally coordinated all the music—which was kind of alarming, considering the playlist, but nothing would ruin this day, even cringy inappropriate songs. Fred traipsed up and down the aisle, offering flutes of champagne. Most everyone accepted a glass. Jennifer took two. Carl stood next to the gazebo, looking fabulous, and posed for the camera. Tim obliged and took plenty of pics.

Mr. Jackson and my three hundred or so other dead guests were in attendance as well. They might have been more excited for the ceremony than I was. The ghosts darted around and chattered with rabid excitement. There were a few random body parts lying around. Didn’t matter. It was par for the course in my life, and I’d deal with it after the ceremony. It was macabre, beautiful and very, very right. I wore many hats, mom, soon to be wife, sister, granddaughter, friend, Angel of Mercy, badass and Death Counselor. It was perfect that my people were all here.

Candy Vargo appeared on the platform of the gazebo in a blast of sparkling orange mist. The guests applauded her showmanship. She bowed and tossed boxes of toothpicks to the crowd. I almost choked on my spit at the outfit she wore. She wore a magnificent gold Prada sheath dress that was simple in design and gorgeous in reality. Of course, she paired it with shitty tennis shoes and a toothpick hanging out of her mouth, but Candy was Candy and that wasn’t ever going to change. The queens had dressed her—everything except the shoes and the toothpick accessory. I was sure of that. When her gaze met mine, she smiled, waved, and then flipped me off.

I returned the gesture, and she cackled like an idiot.

“You ready, asshead?” she yelled.

“I’m ready, butthole,” I yelled back.

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