Page 9 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

“Umm… I’m not so sure about that,” Dimple said with a wince. The poor old woman looked like she was about to empty the contents of her stomach again.

Without a second thought, Lura Belle whipped around in her sensible, low-heeled leather pumps and decked both of her sisters with a right hook and a left jab that would have been impressive on a pay-per-view boxing match. I couldn’t believe the old gals hadn’t been knocked down for the count. The gift of magic that my Angel siblings had given them recently was still coursing strongly through them. Otherwise, they would have been unconscious.

That was a good thing. They weren’t technically Immortal, but with the extra power, they’d be better able to defend themselves in a fight.

And there was going to be a fight. I felt it in my bones.

No one in the living room batted an eye at the geriatric violence. We were getting used to the gals’ smackdowns.

“Okay,” I said, crossing the room and pulling Jolly Sue and Dimple back to their feet. “I’m about to speak aloud a sentence I never in my wildest dreams thought I would utter.” I sighed and shook my head. “As much as I appreciate you being willing to bite Micky Muggles’… umm… pecker off, I think castration by teeth should be the very last resort.”

Candy Vargo offered me a toothpick. I politely declined. Since I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the one she’d been digging for ear wax with, I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Normally,” Candy stated, patting each of the Nephilim on the head with what I guessed was respect, “I really enjoy some good bloody dismemberment, but I have to admit that even though the thought of you fuckers gnawing off that son of a bitch’s salami is amusing, not sure I could watch that shit without losing my cookies. I fuckin’ hate puking. So, I’m agreeing with Daisy on this one. No biting off the rod. I vote for lopppin’ it off with a sword then makin’ him eat it.”

No one had anything to add to that. Candy was a weapon of mass indigestion.

“Alrighty then. I’ve got some good-ish news,” Jennifer chimed in, pulling the ever-present bottle of wine from her bag. “I used to live in Lexington, Kentucky. Back in the day I went to college at UK and drank my way into a BS degree in Communications. Used to chug for my sorority. I could drink those frat boys under the table.” She poured herself a glass of wine then took a swig from the bottle. “Pretty sure I still could.”

“Werk, girlfriend.” Fred, in full fabulous drag, gave her two snaps up and finished with a gimme gesture.

My human friend gave the Immortal drag queen a thumbs up as she handed him the bottle.

College binge-drinking aside, I wasn’t sure her story was pertinent to our current situation. “How is this good-ish news?”

She gave me a look that I’m sure would’ve been a raised brow if Jennifer had been capable of the move. “Sorry! I own an Airbnb there.” She scratched her head. “Probably should’ve led with that. Got custody of that during my second divorce. It’s a nice passive income.”

“You’ve never told me that story,” I said. I’d known Jennifer for a decade, and I was amazed that there were still new things to learn about my splendid friend.

“I have a controversial and diverse past. It would take a lifetime of girls’ nights and a lot of wine to get through it.” She shrugged. “We should actually use the place in Kentucky sometime for a gals’ getaway. It’s dang nice. Tim, you’d love it. It has a nice big kitchen.”

“Ohhhh, sounds lovely!” Tim said, clasping his hands together. “I’d quite enjoy going to the Kentucky Derby at some point.”

“Been there. Done that,” Jennifer shared. “Although, I have to admit, mint juleps taste like assy medicine. I’m not a bourbon girl—more of a wine drinker.” With that obvious admission, she took the bottle back from Fred and sucked back a healthy gulp.

“Is any of this conversation necessary?” Gabe demanded, looking like he was going to do property damage. “While you’re planning your next vacation, Muggles is doing whatever he wants to—” His voice caught as he stopped just short of voicing his worst fears.

I gave my brother a sympathetic nod. He wasn’t wrong, though. We needed to get back to the matter at hand.

“Gabe,” Candy Vargo said in a monotone, idly twirling a toothpick in her fingers. It was pretty scary. “At the risk of you attacking me, which would lead me to attacking you back, I’m gonna ask you to shut your fuckin’ cake hole. I understand your fury. I respect it. But you know as well as I do that words have meaning, and rarely do conversations happen randomly. I’d suggest you listen to the fuckin’ words and pull your head out of your ass crack. You ain’t gonna do Tory no good if you’re a shlong.”

My brother inhaled deeply before exhaling audibly.

I put my hand on his shoulder and said to Candy, “Fine point.”

My brother finished with a grudging, “Well, made.”

I couldn’t blame my brother for his anger or fear. I had plenty of both, but the Keeper of Fate was the Keeper for a reason. If she thought there was something important being said, then we would damn well listen.

“That’s right, motherfuckers,” Candy said with a grunt and a grin. “Just hang on. We’re gonna get where we need to be shortly.” The Keeper of Fate nodded to me. “Keep talkin’, Daisy.”

“Do you know of a castle in Lexington?” I asked Jennifer, hoping it wasn’t a figment of Agnes’ fertile imagination. Our dearly departed author buddy had one heck of a wild mild.

Jennifer nodded as she dug into the Piggly Wiggly doughnuts. “There was one back when I was in college all those years ago. Pretty sure it’s still there. It was out Versailles Road—pronounced phonetically, by the way—ver-sales.”

Gideon took a doughnut from the box and led Jennifer to the couch. “A real castle?”

She chuckled. “A real castle. Some guy built it for his wife after they went to Europe or something like that. They got a divorce before it was finished. Typical—just like sex with most of my exes. I think it’s gone through a couple of owners and from what I heard, it turned into some kind of wedding venue and hotel thingie. That is, if it’s still there.”

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