Page 47 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

Beverly takes Dianna’s hands in hers and gives her a warm smile. “I know it is.”

“Well, who is going to help you out here?” Dianna asks.

“Cora’s been doing your job for the last week anyway, haven’t you, Cora?”

“Pretty much,” I say.

“There, problem solved,” Beverly says. “Dianna has her dream job and Cora has her dream job. What could be better?”

The bell above the door to the shop rings and I look up, expecting to see my darling husband, Edward. I curse to myself and shake my head. It’s not Edward, but Beckett, the person I really want to see.

“Are you ready?” Beckett asks.

I take a deep breath. “I guess.” To Beverly, I say, “You don’t mind if I’m gone for a bit?”

“Of course not,” she says. “Dianna and I can handle things here.”

“I’ll at least finish my shift today,” Dianna says. “And I can always fill in for you in the future if you need help.”

“Thanks,” I say. I grab my coat and scarf and follow Beckett out to his car.

CHAPTER 20

Beckett puts his car in park at the very end of the narrow lane through the cemetery, at the Robbins’s house. The tall points of the old Queen Anne style house stand over me forebodingly, with the gray of the house bleeding into the gray of the sky. Wasn’t it sunny just a little while ago?

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” he asks.

I take a deep breath and then nod. We open our car doors at the same time. I nearly shriek as I step outside and see that Veronica Robbins is standing there waiting for me only a few feet away. Was she there a moment ago?

“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s no problem,” she says, pulling her black shawl around her shoulders.

I have to blink to make sure I’m not seeing another ghost. Veronica Robbins. It’s really her. We were not close friends when I was alive before, but I knew her and her family. They were recluses then, as they are now. She hasn’t aged a day.

“Are you…are you a vampire?” I ask her.

She gives me a small smile. “Let’s just say that I’m the guardian of dead souls here.”

She’s still as reclusive and cryptic as ever. And I suppose my question was a bit prying. Maybe in time she will tell me the truth. I aim to make friends with this woman who is so like me, a soul from another time.

I look around the cemetery, and it is hard for me to tell the living from the dead. I see an older man who has been crying walking toward his car. There is a woman by his side, but she doesn’t get into the car with him. I see another woman standing over the grave of someone else, but she is wearing clothes from the late 1800s. I see a small group of children, running and playing, but there are no adults around to watch them. I shake my head.

“How do you stand it?” I ask Veronica.

“They are not suffering,” she says, putting her arms around me and giving me a reassuring squeeze. “It is the living who suffer.”

“Except in my case,” I say, turning to face her. “I was alone. Utterly alone. Why? Can you tell me?”

She shakes her head. “I cannot. But I know that there must have been a purpose to it. After all, you came back to us. That is a rare gift.”

“I hope so,” I say, sniffing and rubbing my nose. I told myself I would not cry. I’m past crying, feeling sorry for myself.

“Go do what you came here to do, then we will have tea and chat, yes?”

I nod and go around the car to Beckett, who has been standing there silently all this time. He’s been very patient with me when he cannot possibly understand what I am going through. He offers me his arm and I take it. I’m still wearing heeled boots and the ground ahead of us is uneven. I’m buried in a very old part of the cemetery where few people visit anymore, so the paths are not well-tended.

In all my years as a ghost, I have never been here. I’m not sure why. I suppose it did not hold much meaning for me. I was dead, but I was also still alive. Reminders of my death did not bring me comfort. I preferred to surround myself with the people who I loved, my son and my mother, my grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Even as the generations grew and more people forgot about me and my story, I found comfort in their presence.

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