Page 49 of Having the Time of My Midlife

“Anyway,” the male voice snapped. “Today’s rude contestants are the three women standing on the stage. Where in the hell are my notes?” he bellowed. “I’m supposed tohave notes with the names of the damn contestants on them. Somebody is getting FIRED.”

He stopped talking for a second. My guess was that the voice was either composing itself or went to go find his notes and fire the staff.

“I’m back,” the voice shouted. “And now… entering the fucking studio like he’s supposed to do, is the host ofJeopardy! Alex Trebek.”

And what to my wondering eyes should appear? A mostly naked Alex Trebek wearing a hula skirt. I gave Gram the side eye.

“This is your fault, old lady,” I told her, trying to bite back my laugh of horror.

“I know that,” she said, shaking her head. “But you did conjure up them skunks.”

“True,” I confirmed. “But they were a hell of a lot cuter than Alex in a grass skirt.”

“Fine,” Gram said with a giggle. “You win, Daisy girl. But Alex does have a nice smattering of gray chest hair, if I do say so myself.”

I raised a brow. “You’re courting Mr. Jackson,” I reminded her.

“A girl can still look,” she told me with a grin.

“Welcome toJeopardy,assholes,” Alex Trebek said in a voice that was not Alex Trebek’s.

We were back to the fakes. I just hope this Fake Alex Trebek wasn’t as randy as Fake Pat Sajak. I didn’t think my digestive system could handle it.

“Here’s the deal,” Fake Alex said sounding like he was about to take a nap. “I give the answer. You ask the question. You stupid idiots have to get all of them correct or you don’t win your ghosts back. Capiche?”

“Yes,” I said. “Do we get to pick the category?”

He gave me a scathing glare. It made me want to electrocute the jackass. I refrained. It was difficult but doable. I wanted to set a good example for my daughter. Just because someone was a douche didn’t mean that one should immediately resort to violence. Of course, if Fake Alex threw the first punch, I’d take him out without breaking a sweat.

“Are you braindead?” he demanded, pointing at the board.

There was only one row lit up now. The Agnes and Sister Catherine rows were gone. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t feel right.

“When I got here, there were three categories. Where did they go?” I questioned the nasty man.

“I guess they fell apart,” he replied with an evil laugh. “You got a problem with that?”

“Potentially,” I replied. “However, I guess we’ll just wait and see.”

He yawned. “I guess we will.”

Gram was very disappointed in one of her favorite hosts. She wore the expression of a woman who’d just swallowed a lemon. Alana Catherine was calm and composed. I was teetering close to losing my shit, but at least I wasn’t wearing a hula skirt.

“Get to it!” the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.

“I am,” Fake Alex yelled. “First answer, what comes but never arrives?”

Gram hit her buzzer first. “What is tomorrow, Alex?”

“Correct, imbecile,” he said. “Next, what can be broken but never held?”

Alana Catherine was quickest on the draw. “What is a promise, Alex?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s the right answer, halfwit.”

Fake Alex Trebek was a dick. My podium was in the middle, between my gals. Pulling them close, I gave them the newmodus operandi. “If he’s a dick, we’re going to dick him right back. Got it?”

Alana Catherine grinned and nodded. Gram gave me a thumbs up and a giggle. It was time to dick the dick.

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