Page 46 of Someone Save My Midlife Tonight

“Okay,” I said, slightly calmer. One sparkly week was doable. And we could have centuries before the third of the Trinity showed up. We’d just have to get good at ending the zombiesand keeping my baby and the tiny turd safe. Gideon had multiple safe houses all over the world. I’d miss home, but keeping my child from harm was far more important. Living with Shitty Ritchie would be a challenge, but it was what it was. However, if he had the nards to ever offer me his sperm, he would lose his little willie. “I have one more question, Jimmy George Carrots. When the time comes, how do we get rid of the dictator?”

“How does anyone get rid of a dictator?” he countered. “Think back through history, child.”

Well, shit. All of the dictators I could think of had been assassinated. That could bring on the end in the Immortal world… unless the Trinity was ready to go.

That was my new goal. Keep two-thirds of the Trinity safe until the third is revealed, then offing the maniacal present Higher Power, while seamlessly putting the new Higher Powers in place.

Piece of cake. Not.

I sighed, groaned and sighed again. “You ready to go back?” I asked.

Jimmy George Carrots gifted me with his lovely smile. “I am. I wish you love, luck and millions of years of happiness.”

I smiled back and wrapped my friend in a hug. It was time to go home.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“How long was I out?And what time is it?” I asked as I came to with a start on the couch, surrounded by my family and friends. Shitty Ritchie, who was a friend on thin ice, stood on the coffee table. His blue sweatsuit had been replaced with a Kelly-green one. His crazy hair looked like he’d stuck his finger in a socket and electrocuted himself to get it to stand up like a mad scientist. The tiny guy was still barefoot and strange, evidenced by the spastic jazz squares he was doing on the table.

I looked away from the dance exhibition on the table. My impulse was to slap the little nard. That would be mean. I wasn’t mean. I was confused. Was I mad at Shitty Ritchie? I didn’t think so, but why did I want to smack the miniature dude? Granted, he was very slapable, but he hadn’t done anything. Or, had he? I was sure I had something to say to him, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find it.

My brain felt fuzzy and unfocused. I’d just dived into the mind of… the mind of… Whose mind had I gone into? I swallowed my scream. I didn’t want to alarm anyone. I was alarmed enough for everybody. Rubbing my forehead with my fingertips, I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Four days. You were out for four days. And it’s nine in the morning,” Gideon said, sounding stressed. He watched me like a hawk.

I couldn’t hide from Gideon if I tried. He knew me like I knew him—inside and out. While I was fairly sure I was fooling the others, I wasn’t pulling anything over on Gideon. He could sense my impending freakout.

With effort, I sat up, looked around, and then immediately reached for Alana Catherine. Gideon deposited her into my arms, and everything was right in my world… at least in this moment. Little by little, the fog in my head began to dissipate.

“You okay, corn nut?” Candy Vargo asked with her head tilted to the side. “You look kinda funny.”

“Fine,” I lied. “I’m cool… good… peachy.”

Candy raised a brow but didn’t say anything else. I took that as an excellent sign. I’d just deal with what was in front of me. The rest would come. It had to.

“Zander and Catriona are back,” Gideon told me, still eyeing me with concern.

“And they’re up to speed on the zombie situation,” Heather assured me.

“Great,” I said with a curt nod. I remembered the zombies. I remembered that Zander and Catriona had taken them out. The zombies had wanted June, or was it Jennifer? Crap.

I continued to take in the great room while silently begging my brain to catch up. The Grim Reaper had been busy in my absence. The ratty but comfortable furniture that Candy Vargo had conjured up for us was gone. In its place was the lovely décor we’d originally picked.

“How?” I asked, shaking my head in surprise. “It looksexactly the same as it did before the house blew up.” I had long-term memory. Perfect. I knew that the tiny jackass had blown up my house. It was the short term that was screwed.

“Shitty Ritchie is very sorry about that. That was very Merlin’s magic spermy nards of me,” the dummy in question announced. He’d clearly been hanging out with Candy Vargo. Although, the spermy part was vintage Shitty Ritchie. Dude was gross. “I shall endeavor never to damage your boobing property again. I cannot guarantee that I will not destroy other people’s farting property, but I will refrain from demolishing yours, turd-baller!” He ended his promise with a pirouette that almost sent him flying off the table.

I stared at the idiot for a full minute. I knew in my gut he was a very important part of what I couldn’t recall, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out.

Gideon sat down next to me. He wrapped his strong arms around me and tilted my head so it rested on his chest. “About the furniture, I have a photographic memory,” he stated.

He wasn’t going to push me for answers. It made me love the man more, and I didn’t think that was possible. Alana Catherine reached out until she was touching both of us. I had another moment of calm. The two most important people in the world to me were by my side. Gideon had the right idea. He wasn’t going to push me about what was wrong. I wasn’t going to push either. I would trust that my memory would return. Anything was possible. I simply had to believe.

I looked up at Gideon. “You have photographic memory?”

He chuckled when Heather rolled her eyes and Candy Vargo flipped him off. I held my breath for a hot sec, worried that Candy was about to set her hand on fire, but nothing explosive went down. I guessed that the birdie finger was consideredokay again.

“No, I don’t have photographic memory,” he admitted. “Between me, Heather, June and Jennifer, we were able to piece it back together.”

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