Linda’s Story.

I had met Grace a bit earlier than I had thought.

Being vision impaired, I sometimes have difficulty recognizing faces—even knock—out ones like hers.

Oh, she made an impression every time I saw her. Usually, it’s a pretty big impression. And each time I saw her, I thought I recognized her, but that was traditionally filed away.

But it would seem, that was part of her magic.

Grace was scouting me for a few years, you see.

She stayed in the background most of the time, unnoticed, forgotten, another face in the crowd.

But there were times when our eyes would meet, and I would fall head over heels in love.

Then I would forget her—not because of my eyesight but because of her magic. Grace could remain mostly anonymous and wipe away that memory after those rare times when she was discovered.

Once we fell in love, she unwiped those memories. It’s pretty effective, that little trick.

The story before encountering her has been told a hundred times – I was the awkward teenage girl with glasses and braces, highly unpopular. At that young age, I considered myself heterosexual until finally admitting to myself a little bit after high school that I had some bisexual tendencies.

Except for that one time in college with my roommate when nothing happened physically between us, my encounters were with boys only. A blowjob here. A finger job there. A little bit of fucking. But honestly, it was all forgettable.

That continued for a while after college until I just totally gave up on sex altogether. I met a few guys online here and there and fucked a couple of them, but for the time, it was me and my toys. What more could a girl ask for?

But I need to back up just a little bit here. Grace.

The first time I saw Grace was on the college campus, where, one warm spring day, I was walking to class on one of the busier sidewalks. Her eyes captured me first. Our eyes met, and I swore at the time. I caught a little bit of panic, then that calmness that is all Grace. She smiled her wonderful smile when we walked by, and I melted on the inside.

In a few seconds, I thought about her. I thought she might be a professor, and I found myself wondering about the ethics of having an affair with a professor, especially a female professor.

Then, I promptly forgot her.

A few years later, I am at work at the store. I was in one aisle while the store was open stocking paint when I heard something big and loud fall in the next aisle.

I rushed over to see what the matter was when I saw her. Yes, it was Grace. What else do you think I am talking about here?

Anyway, one of our guys was paying more attention to her than where he was going and knocked over a bunch of empty five-gallon buckets. It’s no biggie; they get knocked over all the time.

When I rushed around the corner of the aisle, she spun and looked at me. Again, I swear, my heart stopped for a moment. I just looked at her, gawking at her.

She smiled and said, “Oh, it seems your coworker had a careless little accident.” Fuck, her British accent about sent me over the edge right there.

Suddenly, as if by magic (wink wink), one of the buckets rolls over in front of another of our workers, who is also paying more attention to her than where he was going. He dodges to miss the bucket and starts to fall into a display of five-gallon paint buckets. That had an opportunity for a mess!

So, in a panic, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him from that little impending disaster.

And I promptly forgot her again.

When I was older, I was running a 5K and ended up behind this woman with a spectacular butt molded into some sky-blue tights.

By that time, my interest in women had grown a lot greater. You know, I considered myself bisexual but never actually made love with another woman.

She was running a bit faster than me, but that butt had me hypnotized, and I felt like I had to catch her.

Yep, it was Grace. Once again, who else are we talking about? Of course, I had not recognized her from the other dozen or so times I had run into her before, but still, that little bit of me thought she had an air of familiarity about her.

So, I started running faster until I was next to her. She looks over, gives that knockout smile, and hits me with her best British accent. “Hello! Beautiful morning for a run!” She says all of that with nary a gulp of air.

Meanwhile, here I am, huffing and puffing like a steam engine, and all I can get out is a nod.

“Want to keep pace?” she giggled, then took off. In a matter of a minute, she was out of view in the twists and turns of the 5K. I never caught up with her, never saw her at the finish line, and immediately forgot about her.

After that, I discovered Angel and thought I had found the love of my life. We had hardly talked as much as talked, and I fell for her hard. And once we started talking (and flirting), I feel even harder.

I questioned myself a few times – here I was in my early 40s, and she looked like a teenager. But she lived up to her name – she was an angel. And while I didn’t learn her age until later, she kept dropping hints that she was older.

Having sex with her was one of the most unexpectedly beautiful moments of my life.

Watching her completely disappear right in front of my eyes was the most horrific moment of my life.

And, coming face to face with Grace seconds after, still buck naked, was one of the strangest moments of my life.

I mean, I had just cum so many times I had forgotten how many times it was. And I had made this absolute cutie’s cum so many times my face, fingers, and pussy were drenched with her juices. So, in a few seconds, I went from a beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime experience to total confusion to “What the hell is this somewhat familiar-looking chick doing here?.”

Of course, Grace is calm, and it affects you. It took a little bit, but I eventually believed her. There was just way too much evidence about what she was saying.

And after a while, I started getting a crush on her.

It got so that my “alone” times were spent thinking about her—some incredible orgasms from those times.

Little did I know, she was alone when I was out of the apartment.

By then, my vision was getting awful. I was done with work by then, but I still spent a lot of time outside shopping, walking, or running. Sometimes, Grace would come with me, and sometimes, she would lead me to myself.

A few times, I admit, I was a little bit pissed she did not come with me. Sometimes, I felt like I could have used that healthy pair of eyes to help me along one of my runs, walks, or shops.

Then, one afternoon, I got home, and she was in the shower. I went into the bedroom and could smell the scent of sex.

Oh fuck, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever smelled.

I found a little wet spot on the bed, which is weird. I know. But I had to sniff it. Oh fuck, it got me wet immediately.

I heard the shower stop, quickly exited the bedroom, and sat at my computer like nothing had happened.

But then I knew that Grace was having her own “alone” time when I was going out. That turned me on immensely.

When we finally did make love, I felt like I was about to explode in anticipation. A couple of those orgasms felt like they were explosions of anticipation.

I mean, before—I admit—I thought she was beautiful, I had lusted after her, and I had a crush on her. But I also thought she was so proper and pure.

Before, when we were in training, she rarely used profanity. “Made love,” “penis,” “vagina,” “orgasm,” “anus,” all that stuff. Even then, she used the words technically as if she were a living textbook.

Yeah, I had a crush on her – but I thought she was of an unattainable height. I admit I put her on a pedestal, telling myself she was way out of my league.

Imagine my surprise when she so willingly gave her body to me when we made love that night.

See, she even has me doing it.

Anyway, making love to her was like a months-long fantasy finally coming to fruition—a dream come true.

And finding out that her orgasm gave me my little powers for my own newly found job was an interesting add-on.

Before, I was only Guide material. I had what it took, and I had the knowledge, but I did not have all the necessary tools.

When I hungrily lapped up her pussy juices that night, she not only gave me a delightful treat, but she gave me little powers.

My body became a lot more fit. My brain is a lot sharper.

Still, I could not see worth a shit. The peripheral was still disappearing. But now, when I saw a dead person, I not only saw them but saw a bit of a glow coming from them that let me know that they were a dead person. I could even see that glow out of the corner of my eye, even when nothing else was there in my field of vision, and I could tell that the reading was accurate.

I also found that I gave off that calming aurora. That was nice. Some ghosts do tend to panic.

Finally, I found that information was slowly but indeed passed on from me to the deceased – eventually, they would realize they were dead and that we would have to orgasm simultaneously while looking each other in the eye. No fucking idea how all of that transferred from me to them, but it worked.

It made them ready, though. It made them accept.

Still, being a Guide for the dead is not as fun as it sounds.

I mean, I am having sex with these girls. It is a very intimate moment. Sometimes, it takes a while. Shirly took more than a month. I have had a couple last more than a week. One becomes extremely attached to these women. We are also playing an exceptionally long game of seduction, which increases that affinity.

Once they are gone to wherever they are going, I feel like a little bit of me is going away, too.

Hell, it can be downright fucking hard.

Grace stuck around, though.

Usually, managers bounce from city to city, country to country. Grace claims she has lost track of where she has been, but I have a feeling she has a detailed list somewhere.

After I sent Shirly to where she had to go, I cried in Grace’s arms for a week. Then we made passionate love. That was great. A few days later, she was notified that another Guide needed help.

I was bummed, but I threw myself into the work. I mean, hell, I was getting laid a hell of a lot more than I had been before all of that started. The affairs ended weirdly, but there was a reason. Not only was I having lots of sex with a lot of beautiful women, but there was a reason for it: I was helping them get to the next step of their existence, a step not on Earth. It was all for the good.

Yeah, they were all women. I know; when I interviewed Grace, I said I was bisexual. But the more days I spent as a Guide, the more I realized I was more attracted to women.

I never told anyone this, but it was like the system knew. So, it only assigned me women.

Then, one day, my aides came to introduce themselves. Grace hired a couple of young ladies who were NOT guides but knew the business to assist me. The Company was paying them well, too.

There wasn’t a job description for Mindy or Tammy. But they seemed to know automatically what needed to be done, whether to find information about my latest ghost, shower the pages for potential ghosts, shop, or even comfort me after a particularly rough outing.

They both took empty apartments in the upstairs section of the house. That only left Angel’s room empty. I decided that it would always remain empty if it were up to me.

From what she had told me and from firsthand experience, I knew that aiding a Guide could take a long time. It took me 14 months total from the time Angel crossed over to the time I helped my next girl cross over in Valencia.

So, Tammy, Mindy, and I worked for the long haul, helping as many souls as we could cross over to the other side.

It was hard work, but somebody had to do it.

One day, I heard a familiar voice behind me. “Dear, I was wondering if you could help me. I have a bit of a problem.”

I could easily recognize the voice of my landlord, Mabel. This sweet little old lady really did not pay any attention to my business, which helped because she was hard of hearing.

When I turned around, I gave a start. It was NOT the sweet little old lady behind me.

It was a much younger woman.

A charming woman.

A woman who had that glow that was remarkably familiar to me surrounded her.

My landlord, Mabel, had passed away, and now her spirit was before me, needing help.

Well, that was a little awkward at first.

“What’s the matter, Mabel?” I asked a bit loudly and as casually as I could.

On cue, Tammy and Mindy popped their heads out of their apartments.

Mabel rubbed her hands together. “Oh, it is nothing, dear. I feel ... strange. Off, or something. It’s almost like I had a stroke. But it is nothing.” She looked out of the corner of her eyes, as if looking over her shoulder. “And I think someone else is in my apartment! I swear!” she sighed. “But it is probably nothing.”

I patted her on the hands. “Tell you what, sit down there, and Tammy will fix you some honey tea. Would you like that?”

Mabel nodded as she sat in my easy chair, and Tammy rushed to the stove to fill the tea kettle.

“Oh, you know I like your honey tea, Tammy!” Mabel said chipperly.

“While that is going on,” I continued. “I’ll go downstairs and see what is going on.”

I grabbed my phone and went downstairs while Mindy entered my apartment to help Mabel.

Mind you, I have been doing this for about a year now since Valencia—the Guide thing, which is. But during that time, I had never seen a dead body. There was no need to. Most of the time, they had been deceased long enough that the body had been removed, or the spirit was in a place they were comfortable in, nowhere near where their body was.

So, seeing Mabel’s body was my first.

She looked relaxed. She just lay on the floor, eyes closed, still as a statue and just as white. OK, not relaxed, but you get the point.

I texted Tammy and Mindy, asking them to keep an eye on her for a while, then called 911.

An hour later, Mabel’s body was gone from her apartment. I returned to hers, finding her in deep conversation about flowerbeds with Tammy and Mindy. Fortunately, she could not tell from my demeanor that anything was wrong, and the conversation continued to flow.

Another hour later, I accompanied her back to her apartment. She invited me inside for a sip of her own tea, which I accepted. I chatted with her for a few hours before we both decided it was time to turn it in.

When I got upstairs, I called Grace through my tablet.

Since she had gone out on assignment, we had at first talked to each other on the phone, but I sometimes found the smaller picture a bit awkward, so we both moved to tablets. Video calls were frequent, and quite a few times, we talked dirty to each other, showing off little flashes here and there until we both came. You know, typical long-distance relationship.

Her beautiful, chipper face appeared immediately on the screen. In the background, I could see her guide in training, Meg, cleaning the house in truly short shorts.

“Hello, dear!” she said chipperly, giving me her brightest smile.

“Is that Linda?” Meg called from the background. Grace had told me everything about her and everything about me. “Tell her I said ‘Kisses/’”

“Meg says ‘Kisses,’” Grace said.

“Tell her I said ‘Kisses’ back. Hey, we have a big problem ... my landlord?” I practically shouted the last word.

Grace pursed her lips and nodded. “Mabel? Yes, is she all, right?”

“She’s dead!”

Grace’s eyes were saddened. “Oh no! The poor dear! I hope she didn’t suffer.”

“No, it was quick, and now I have to guide her.”

Grace looked confused for a second, and then reality hit her quickly. “Oh!” she said.

I nodded. “Yeah. Oh.”

Grace furrowed her brow, looking intently at her tablet. I saw her read briefly, then shake her head.

“Yeah. Well, I hate to break this to you, dear, but you are an almost 100 percent match as a guide. The only other one who comes close is working on an extremely long case in China.”

I let out a huff. “How the hell can that be? She freely used the term ‘The Gays’ when talking about gay people. I mean ... I know she grew up in the Great Depression and all, but holy fuck cakes!”

Grace uncontrollably let out a little giggle, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. “I am so sorry.” She looked at her tablet again, shook her head, and looked straight into my eyes. “I am sorry, Love, but it must be you. You are her perfect match. As terrible as it is, you are the one she will be most comfortable with.”

“She was married ... to a man!”

“That is the case sometimes, especially for the elderly who grew up in those times. Same-gender attraction was not anywhere near acceptable decades ago, a so-called disease to be hidden. Some people went on to marry people of a different sex to keep up an image. She even had a couple of children, am I right?”

I nodded. They both lived out of town. One, I saw once a year during the holidays, and the other, I never saw.

“She was homophobic as fuck!”

Grace shook her head. “Again, a sign of the era. This was something she saw briefly happen to herself and ended up magnifying those feelings of others herself, masking her true feelings.” She sighed and shook her head. “I know this is going to be a tough one, love. But, in about a week, I should be back after finishing with the lovely Meg.” As if on cue, Meg appeared over her shoulder, smiling and waving, then disappeared. “I will help you with this one as much as I can. I knew Mabel, too, so perhaps I can talk with her.”

I bit her lower lip and nodded. My heart gave a little joyful jump. “You are coming back in a week?” I repeated quietly.

Grace smiled and nodded. “I have missed you so, my true love.”

I could feel tears welling up in her eyes. “I miss you too, my true love.” I sighed and investigated the distance, my struggling eyes focusing on nothing. “I hope I can do this,” I admitted quietly. I had wondered when this had all started if I would ever have to Guide anyone I had known. Never did I ever expect it to be sweet little old Mabel.

Grace gave her best smile. “I know you can do this. You are one of the best I have ever seen.”

‘Hey!” came a playful hidden voice in the background.

Grace rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Except for Meg, but of course.”

“Oh, but of course, except for Meg,” I said with a chuckle. Then, I let out another sigh. “I mean ... despite all of the homophobia and all of that, I saw her as sort of a mother figure, you know?”

Grace nodded and smiled, then furrowed her brow. “So ... she does not still look like ... is she still elderly?” she asked in an almost apologetic whisper.

I laughed and shook my head. “No, she is young, and our young Mabel was quite the little fox!”

Grace giggled, and we talked for about another hour before falling off to bed.

When I awoke, Mabel was in her garden. Usually wearing her meadow green grandma pants and printed daisy shirt, she surprised me that morning by wearing shorts and a T-shirt. She also was not wearing her glasses.

After a quick fruit breakfast, I went to where she worked.

“Beautiful spring day isn’t it, Mabel?”

Mabel shielded the sun from her eyes and looked at me.

“It is gorgeous out here!” she said. She stood up, wiping her hands on her shorts. “You know, I have been unable to fit in these in ... years. Decades, even! Not sure why I kept them around, but you know how we keep some old things around.” She chuckled. “I am glad I did.”

“Want some help pulling the weeds?” I asked.

Mabel dropped to the ground and resumed pulling. “If you want to, dear, yes. Just don’t pull any of the flowers by mistake.” She looked at me, blinking a little bit. “I know you have had problems with your eyes. Can you see well enough to do this? You don’t have to, you know.”

I smiled and pulled out my phone. “I have an app that tells me if it is a weed or a flower,” Mindy suggested this application last night so I could bond with Mabel.

She smiled. “The things they can do these days with phones!” she said, pulling at a small vine trying to wrap itself around one of her hydrangeas.

We weeded the gardens around the house for a couple of hours, exchanging small talk about the garden, flowers in general, my eyesight, my running, her husband who had been deceased for three decades, and anything else we could think of.

Later, we sat at her kitchen table, sipping more tea.

“I don’t know what happened to me last night,” Mabel said with a chuckle. “But if it was a stroke, I need another one. I feel like I lost half my weight, and I swear my body looks like it has never looked before!” she stood up and spun around freely.

Despite myself, I looked. She indeed looked incredible. Even in her prime, she was a tiny woman, but her dips and curves were in all the lovely places. And she had such a cute little butt! Meanwhile, her face was one of those beautifully handsome faces with innocent eyes that could drop you like a fly, and her pouting lips looked like they were begging to be kissed.

Yeah, young Mabel was a cutie. But she was still ... Mabel.

“I bet you made the boys go crazy when you were in your prime!” I said with a smile.

She smiled and plopped back into her chair, her chin resting on a hand. “They did. They did go crazy,” she said with a little sigh and a faraway look.

I let the thought hang for a bit.

“Was there ever anyone you truly loved before Ron?”

Her eyes kept that faraway look for several seconds, seeing a past I could not see, one she had kept a veil on for decades. “There was,” she said quietly before giving a small, almost sly peek at my eyes. Then she gave a slight shake of her head and a smile. “There was!” she said a bit louder, taking a small sip of her tea. “But...” her voice drifted off again. “Dad did not approve, so ... that was that.” Her voice trailed off during the last sentence as she again looked towards that veiled past. She shook her head again. “But I found Ron!” she said with a smile.

I smiled back and nodded, wondering what to say next. This was not going to be accessible at all.

“Have I ever shown you a picture of him?” she asked chipperly.

I shook my head.

She stood up quickly and walked towards her bedroom. “Come on!” she said with the same cheery voice, motioning me with her hand.

I followed. As I entered the bedroom, she was taking a box out of her dresser, plopping it on the edge of the bed, and then plopping into the bed herself, face down, feet sticking up in the air. Without looking at me, she patted the bed beside her and began rummaging through the pictures.

As I lay down, also face first and feet up, she pulled out a studio picture of a man. I swear the shot is from the 1920s.

“Here we go. This was a publicity shot for the newspaper when we had our 10th anniversary for the candy store,” she said, holding the picture to me.

I took it and studied it briefly before handing it back to her with a smile. “He looked like a very nice, handsome man,” I said.

We leafed through several more pictures before we came to one of the two with another couple. For some reason, my eyes were immediately attached to the other woman, who was looking at Mabel with a small but sad smile on her face.

“Who are these people?” I asked, taking the photo from her.

She smiled. “Those are the Clarkes, Horace, and...” she paused, but I could tell she knew the name. “Hellen. Yes, Hellen Clarke. They had a laundromat a few doors from our candy store, and we all became good friends.” She let out another small side. “But a while ago, we fell out and never kept track of each other. Horace died around the same time as Ron. Hellen...” she let her voice trail off and ended the sentence.

I handed the picture back to her. She looked at it a bit longer. Mabel also had that same small, sad smile as she looked at the picture, then let out a small side and put it aside.

For several minutes, we looked at more pictures. Hellen Clarke was in quite a few of them. Hellen and Mabel exchanged a small, sad smile with everyone.

We went back outside, finishing the wedding and laying down some new mulch Mabel had bought a few days ago. Our conversation continued with idle chit-chat.

That evening, I searched for Hellen Clarke, finding she was still alive and well in town but living in a retirement community on the other side.

The next day, Tammy drove me to the home, where I found Hellen Clarke sitting at a large picture window, looking at the garden outside. She greeted me with a smile before resuming her gaze outside.

The words were almost stuck in my throat. Honestly, I almost left the place without asking the question I needed to ask before finally nearly yelling out, “Hellen, did you ever know Mabel Manning?”

A small, sad smile crept to her face as she slowly turned towards me.

“There is a name I have not heard for several years,” she said in a quiet, shaky voice. “Yes, I knew Mabel.” She paused and looked out the window again. “Quite well, in fact,” she said even quieter.

I cleared my throat. “She passed away two days ago,” I said quietly.

She sighed, still looking out the window. “Oh, did she. Poor dear. She had lived a good, long life, though, you know.” She nodded her head, still looking out the window. “A good long life,” she repeated.

The words were still stuck in my throat.

“Was that all you wanted, dear?” Hellen asked, still looking out the window.

“I believe she loved you until her dying day!” I blurted out, instantly regretting my words.

She let out a small, sharp breath, then slowly turned her head again until she looked at me straight.

She studied me. She studied my eyes.

I stood there, saying nothing, returning her gaze.

She smiled and nodded her head. “I truly think you mean that,” she said, her voice slightly more transparent. She let out a sigh. “And I loved her, too. I truly did.”

I knelt beside the chair and patted her hand.

She nodded. “It was a different time back then. So different. People did not accept love the way people do now. Back then...” She shook her head. “Back then, it was not only the men who were called faggots, but the women called dykes. So cruelly, so freely like it was all just a passing fancy that could be gone with the wave of a hand.”

Her hand waved in the air as she said it. “But it was not like that with Mabel and I. Oh, did we love each other so dearly? To hold hands was divine. To kiss would make our hearts fly away.” She let out a large, delighted chuckle. “And when we made love, when we finally made love to each other, each of those nights is etched forever in my memory!”

Hellen let out a playful giggle, holding one of her hands out, two fingers extended, slightly bent, slightly apart. “She did this withing with her fingers that...” she let out an enormous giggle, then glanced nervously at me. “Oh, I am sorry. You don’t want to hear about that,” she said.

Before I could answer, she continued. “One night, as we made love, her father found us. Beat us both up to a pulp, he did.” She gulped, rubbing her left hand. “I am sure it was there where my left wrist troubles began. Mabel could hardly walk for a week, I think. He forbade us to see each other again.

“Of course, when I got home, my father had found out. He was not like Mabel’s dad. He did not get angry. But he told me ... he told me that I would have to be careful, that there would be people who would hurt me more if they found out about how I preferred women, that it was dangerous.” She looked down at her now folded hands. “That it could be fatal.”

She looked back out the window. “Horace, my husband, he was gay. Ours was a marriage of convenience, though I do not know for whose convenience. Not ours. Horrace had a steady boyfriend for his entire life, Tom. Tom was married to...” She paused. “Well, that is not any of your business. But I had a couple of steady girlfriends myself, women I dearly loved. But none like Mabel.

“Our friendship continued. Her father died a few years after she married, and her husband Ron and Horrace became good friends. Mabel and I, well, you know.

“Finally, one night when we were in our 40s, we made love again. It was marvelous. It was fabulous. By then, things were starting to get a little bit different. But it was also still the same. After that night, Mabel barely spoke to me again. Eventually, we just drifted apart.

“Later, I got a letter from her saying that she still loved me dearly, that making love to me was the happiest moment of my life, but that she just could not continue. The pain from the beating, the pain from the names – oh, her dad was a monster. It was all just too much for her to take on again, even if he was gone.”