Page 51 of Having the Time of My Midlife

Without a second to lose, my daughter—the future Death Counselor and apparently the future Soul Keeper—went to work. Alana Catherine got down on her knees and gathered all the parts together with care. She then waved her arms above the broken bodies of the two women.

It wasn’t fancy. It didn’t include any bells or whistles, but… it worked.

In less time than it took me to blink, Agnes and Sister Catherine were whole. I wanted to scream with joy and talk to them for hours, but that wasn’t on the agenda. There was one minute left in the five that Fake Alex Trebek had given us. If we didn’t get the gals out of the studio, they’d turn to dust.

“We have to go,” I insisted. “Agnes, Sister Catherine, this is my daughter, Alana Catherine.”

“It’s nice to meet you ladies,” Alana Catherine said.

“Same here, puddin’,” Agnes said as clear as day with a big smile on her face.

She was a ghost, but didn’t sound like one.

“Oh my,” Sister Catherine said as she wrapped her transparent arms around me. “Thank you very much, my friend. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing,” I told her as I corralled the two ladies towards my daughter’s open arms. “Not only is my child the future Death Counselor, she’s also the future Soul Keeper.”

“Yep,” Alana Catherine said with a warm smile. “And I’d be honored to host you for a bit until we can safely take you back into the Light.”

“Sounds like a plan, pumpkin,” Agnes said, floating straight into my child’s arms.

“I’m good with that,” Sister Catherine agreed.

“Hurry up, friends,” I insisted. “We’ve got less than a minute to get out of here.”

The ladies listened. They were safely inside my daughter.

“Have to get out of here,” I said, grabbing my grandma and daughter’s hands.

“Where to?” Gram asked as we stood in the middle of the stage.

Glancing around wildly for the right way to go, my eyes landed on a door. It was lit up like the Fourth of July. The answer was obvious. What was behind the door wasn’t. I knew how to find out.

“Everybody ready for round three?” I asked, running to the exit with my girls by my side.

“Hell to the yes,” Gram yelled. “Bring it on!”

“What she said,” Alana Catherine added.

Three was our magic number. I knew in my gut three things—One, this would be the final test. Two, I’d find Steve behind that door, and three, it was time to end the Higher Power’s games. I just hoped the coward would show up because I had a hell of a lot to say.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

To no one’sgreat surprise, we walked onto the set ofThe Price is Right. Gram squealed with delight.The Price is Rightwas her crack and she’d always jokingly referred to Bob Barker as her boyfriend when she was alive. Her obsession was real. In death, the Game Show Channel was on 24/7 at my house, and she watched the reruns of the show religiously. She’d seen all the episodes so many times she could tell you the winner of the Final Showcase by who would be picked as contestants at the top of the episode. It was sweet, nutty and vintage Gram.

After she’d run around the set, touching all the props with child-like excitement, she stopped abruptly. Her chin dropped to her chest, and I thought she was going to cry.

Alana Catherine and I rushed over.

“Gram, talk to me,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Aww, Daisy girl,” she said, swiping at a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry. Seein’ my Nirvana in person for the first time is kinda overwhelmin’. My heart’s just breakin’ up knowin’ that my old boyfriend, Bob Barker, is probably gonna be a giant jackhole in this version.”

“It’s okay, Gram,” Alana Catherine said, joining the hug. “Whoever shows up today isn’t going to be the real Bob Barker.”

Gram rested her chin on my shoulder and sighed. “I know. And I know I’m actin’ all the fool. We got way bigger problems than the disappointment of an old lady who’s addicted to game shows.”

“You’re not a problem,” I said firmly. “Everything is relative and feelings are real. It’s fine to have them. Get them out now, so we’ll be ready.”

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