Bring Out Your Dead Valentine

"My fiancee died," I said with a sad smile, "and I'm missing her very much. Where have you been? After a week, I assumed you had moved on toward the light."

She shook her head.

"I had a couple things to do for my parents, my father isn't as strong as he appears to be. He took my death badly, and I had to reassure him. Now I'm here."

She gave me her biggest smile and it was like she was alive again except that I couldn't touch her. The world lit up in color again.

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, and I've got to find you a replacement for me."

"I don't want a replacement for you."

She shook her head.

"I truly love you, puppy, but love is different once you've passed. I don't want you to spend your life pining after me. Men don't do well living alone, they sort of dry up and get bitter. You're a nice guy, but you have the social skills of a clam. I can't leave until you have a woman looking after you."

When Rita set her mind to a task, there was no stopping her. Over the next few weeks, Rita presented several women that I work with as possible mates, but I rejected them out of hand because I had worked with them and knew that there was no magic between us.

A couple weeks later I was standing in the cafeteria at work looking for a place to sit down. The seating area was closed due to covid and people were eating where they could.

"This is perfect," Rita said, "she's sitting in the hall on one of those long benches by the elevators."

"Who's sitting there?"

"You'll see."

I followed her down the hall and found a woman in scrubs sitting at one end of a long bench. Behind her, the window on the courtyard displayed autumn at its finest with the trees and the bushes arrayed in crimson and gold in the bright sun light.

"Ask her if it's okay if you sit at the other end of the bench."

"Hi, I was wondering if you would mind if I sit at the other end. It looks to be six feet away and I hate eating while standing."

The woman looked up from her fishwich. She was tall and slender almost to the point of being gangly. She wasn't a knockout like Rita, but she had a sweet open face and a huge smile. She had her strawberry blond hair pulled back and held in place with a golden clasp. She looked like the perfect Nordic cross country skier.

"Promise you won't cough or sneeze on me?" she smiled up at me.

"Scouts honor."

I settled in while Rita floated in mid air a few feet out from me.

"Introduce yourself," Rita urged me.

"Hi, I'm Scott Adkins. I work up on the eighth floor in business planning."

The woman smiled at me.

"I'm Amy Peterson, an ER doc. I'd shake hands, but you know," she shrugged.

"Ask her about her day," Rita prompted.

"ER? You must have to worry about covid all day long."

"I'm gowned up and masked all day but I still worry about what I might pick up from the patients," she ran her finger across a reddened patch on her cheek, "my face has a rash from wearing a mask all the time."

"You can't just grab a fresh mask when the old one starts bothering you?"

She shook her head.

"All PPE is in really short supply."

She took a bite of her fishwich and chewed it thoughtfully.

"You don't worry about contagion in your work space?" she asked me after she had sipped from her pop cup.

I shook my head.

"I've already had covid and for me it wasn't a big deal plus I work with the same five people every day. So no, I don't worry about contagion much. We're all part of the same bubble, and everyone is careful."

"Complement her on her earrings, they're beautiful," Rita urged.

"Those engraved hoops you're wearing are amazing. It's nice to see someone dressing up a bit even if they're in scrubs all day."

She sat up straighter and pushed a wisp of hair behind her ear.

"I have to do something to elevate my mood. Thank you for noticing."

That earned me a big smile as she stood.

"Lunch is over. Time to get back to the ER. It was very nice to meet you, Scott."

I detected little bit of a strut in her step as she walked toward the elevator.

"That went very well," Rita said, "there's a nice chemistry between you."

I turned to my free floating vapor of a former fiancee.

"How can you say that? I'm still very much in love with you."

I said it too loudly. People walking up and down the hallway turned to peer at the crazy person muttering to himself. I rose and beat a hasty retreat to the elevators. When I was back in my office, Rita appeared to me again.

"I know that you love me and that you always will, but honey, I'm dead and I'll go into the light soon. The pull gets stronger by the day, and soon I won't be able to resist it. You're still made of flesh and blood and you need love and affection in your life. I want to assure that you're taken care of before I go."

"I hate this. It's not fair. I had just found you. Why were you taken from me?"

"I don't know," her face grew serious, "all I know for sure is that we'll be together again, but it's going to take some time and I want to be sure that you're taken care of before I go."

**********

I looked at Amy laying beside me. Just enough light seeped in through the window to make out her slumbering form. Was Rita still occupying her body? It was impossible to know. I didn't want to call for Rita because nothing killed a romantic evening in bed like calling out the wrong name.

Amy was beautiful when she slept. Even asleep her mouth fell into a Mona Lisa smile. I choked up a bit gazing at her. My life is about death and dying. I had accepted that as my fate, and then not once, but twice a beautiful woman had come into my life and changed everything. There was grace to the long lines of Amy's body as well as a sweetness to her that made me long to be with her. And there was something else too. I'd grown very protective of her. She was so much more timid than Rita was despite the brave front she put up battling for people's lives in the ER.

It took me a while to admit to myself that it was okay to love two women. It still feels like I'm abandoning Rita even though she was the one who set us up. I also worry that I can't give Amy all the love she deserves, but then she hugs me and all worry disappears. Amy needs me as much as I need her. She trusts me so completely that I have to be a better man than I am to live up to that trust.

Rita was right when she said that in many ways, Amy is a better match for me. She is every bit as much a geek as I am, maybe even more so. While I had attended comic conventions, I had never dressed up as a character as she had. Nor could I quote whole passages of the Star Wars movies like she could.

**********

After meeting at lunch a few more times, she agreed after Christmas to go out with me if we both tested negative for covid. That weekend she spent the evening at my apartment watching an Avenger movie on Netflix on the coldest night of the year.

"Who's your favorite Avenger?" she asked as the credits rolled.

"By far, Dr. Strange."

She frowned at me.

"I had you pegged for either Thor or Iron Man."

"Thor is too one dimensional, and Tony Stark is annoyingly overconfident. Dr. Strange has depth and intelligence. He sees the dark worlds around us and knows we must protect what little we have. Besides, he's the only super hero in the movies who's intelligent enough to give Tony Stark the verbal haircut he needs every now and then."

"Would you be willing to dress up as Dr. Strange at the next Comicon?"

"I'll really have to think about it. It's not the kind of thing I'm into. I'm more inclined to watch the parade than I am to lead it."

"That's the cool thing about dressing up," excitement crept into her voice and she became more animated, "I'm no longer me when I'm in costume. I'm that character, and it frees me up to act as that character does. I think you'd like dressing up. You'll have to tell me soon if you want to give it a try. It takes a while to get the fabric in and to sew up the costume."

"You do it yourself?"

She grinned at me and nodded.

"That's part of the fun. You have to decide which of the character's looks you want, and then you have to copy it. Which do you prefer, Dr. Strange's comic book costume or his movie costume?"

"I thought the movie costume looked pretty good. I'm not sure I could do the tights and tunic thing from the comic books."

The evening ended with a kiss when I took her home. Our next date was in mid January at her house. We spent the day walking around the park and feeding ducks at the pond near her apartment getting throughly chilled by the early spring wind neither of us had dressed for, and then she cooked dinner. We put on the Justice League movie but spent most of the evening loving on each other.

"I'm falling for you," I said after a long kiss.

"Why?" she asked staring into my eyes.

"You're the most enchanting blend of dedicated hard-charging ER doctor and whimsical Comicon role player that I have met. You're smart, you're passionate, and most of all, for some unknown reason you like me."

"The liking you part isn't hard to explain," she stroked my cheek, "you make me laugh, and you get me. Not many people do."

She sat up suddenly looking serious.

"I do worry that you aren't over you fiancee, yet."

"I do think of her a lot," I grabbed her hand, "but if she were here, I know that she would tell me to get on with life. She was as practical as you are about the hard facts of life."

There was no sense telling her about my matchmaking free floating vapor of a former fiancee. Those shocks would come later after I had prepared her for them.

I pulled her to me and kiss her.

That evening ended with me driving home with the worst case of blue balls that I have ever experienced.

After each date, Rita quizzed me on how things went.

"At some point while you were making out with her, did she tell you to stop?"

I nodded.

"She stopped me when I tried to slip my hand inside her blouse."

"What happened?"

"I stopped."

Rita nodded.

"That's good. She was testing you. No girl likes to be around an out of control guy."

"Tell me about the goodnight kiss."

I thought for a moment.

"She wrapped herself around me and ground her hips into me. Our kiss was long, and passionate, and I cannot tell you how weird it is telling my fiancee about this."

"That's marvelous. She's into you. By the way, I view love and sex differently from this side of death. Once you're free of your body, sex means nothing. Love is paramount. Amy will never replace your love for me because the capacity to love is infinite. It's possible for you to love two women deeply."

She stroked my chin, and it made me yearn for her touch, but I appreciated the gesture.

"When are you getting together next?" she asked.

"She invited me over tomorrow night. I'm bringing dinner."

Rita turned serious.

"I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to stay with you. The call of the light is getting stronger."

"Rita, why don't you leave then? I hate the thought of keeping you from whatever is next."

Rita came closer.

"Desire is everything once you've crossed over. My desire that you be well taken care of is still slightly stronger than my desire to move on. I can resist it a bit longer."

She faded from sight without saying goodbye. It was something she had never done before, and I wondered what it meant.

The dreaded phone call came a week before Valentine's Day.

"I'm covid positive," Amy said in a flat voice that belied the turmoil that must be in her, "I'm symptom free so I'm sheltering in place in my apartment. You'll get a call from the health department."

I spent a long time gazing at my aura in the bathroom mirror. It was still the usual shade of blue. I got a covid test, informed my boss that I had been exposed, and picked up lunch at a drive through before going to Amy's apartment.

"What are you doing here?" she asked from behind a barely opened door.

"I'm off for two weeks, too. We might as well spend them together."

"You can't. It's corona virus, there's no guarantee that you have any defenses against reinfection."

I pushed my way in and kissed her before she could object. She resisted at first then sagged into my arms.

"You're such an idiot," she said resting her head against my chest, "but I'm glad you're here and that you're my idiot."

I heard the catch in her voice as she said it.

"I didn't want you to go through this alone, Amy. I did and the loss of human contact was the worst part."

I held up the bag.

"I brought you lunch. It's a fishwich. I noticed you liked those for lunch, and before you ask, I went through the drive through, and wore a mask when I picked up lunch."

"You're taking a horrible chance."

"You're worth it."

A tear formed in the corner of her eye. I brushed it away with my thumb before it ran down her cheek.

"You're an idiot, a magnificent, lovely idiot."

I blinked back tears as she nuzzled against my shoulder and I held her as she sobbed. I checked her aura looking for impending death. I didn't see it and heaved a sigh of relief. Covid would not take her. I wanted to tell her, but couldn't think of a way to do it without looking like a lunatic.

That evening, Amy and I sat on the couch finishing up the cashew chicken dinner we had delivered to her door.

"Did you hear, they canceled Detroit Comicon this year," she said with a slight pout, "I enjoyed dressing up for them."

"What did you go as last year?"

"I went as Black Widow."

"Do you still have the costume?"

She nodded.

"Would you model it for me, please?"

She looked at me for a moment. I had no idea what was going on, but she came to a decision.

"You'll make fun of me," she pouted with head down.

I reached out and gently pulled her chin up.

"I will not," I kissed her lightly, "I admire the people who are brave enough to dress up as their favorite character."

"You promise you won't laugh?"

"I swear. I'm sure you look outstanding in that outfit."

She grinned.

"I got a lot of compliments and lots of people took pictures of me," she thought for a moment, "I did get weird stares when I was riding the people mover to the convention through."

"I'll make you a deal. While you go change into your costume, I'll clean up dinner, and if I laugh at you even once, I'll buy dinners for a week. Deal?"

I held out my hand and she took it.

"Deal," she said, then added, "none of that Coney Island stuff every night either. I want real honest to God food."

I picked up while she wandered back into her bedroom. She had a simple apartment with the living area up front by the window and the small balcony with the kitchenette and the bathroom on one side in back and the single bedroom on the other side of a short hallway. I threw away the containers, and wiped off the coffee table we had been eating on leaving the two fortune cookies that we hadn't opened yet on the table.

"Are you ready?" she called from the bedroom.

"Ready." I shouted back.

The door opened and out came Amy in a skin tight black leatherette outfit complete with a red wig and wearing red lipstick. On her hips she wore a gun belt with two holsters. The outfit looked like it had been painted on her.

"Wow, you look amazing. My goodness, you are sexy."

She did a quick spin for me. Then pointed an accusing finger at me.

"I think I recognize you. You followed me around Comicon all day didn't you?"

I whistled.

"I would have if I had seen you. You look like Black Widow."

"I get very warm in this outfit so I don't like to wear it long, it's difficult to pull on, and impossible for me to take off by myself."

My momma didn't raise no dummies. Who wouldn't want to help Black Widow out of her costume?

"I can help you take it off if you want," I volunteered trying not to sound too excited. Inside I was yelling, 'I'm undressing Black Widow', and giving a high five to every guy I had ever met.

She unzipped her top showing that she wasn't wearing a bra. I perked up wondering what exactly she was wearing under her costume. (Yes, I'm that immature. Thank you for noticing.)

"I need help pulling my arms out of the sleeves. This costume doesn't breathe, and when I perspire, there's a suction between my skin and the costume."

I grabbed her sleeve and allowed her to slowly wiggle her arm inch by inch from the tight sleeve."

"I perspire the second I put this on and the plastic fabric doesn't slide at all over damp skin."

I managed to get her arm out exposing one nice firm, lovely breast. Her nipple standing up revealed that she enjoyed this as much as me. She acted like getting naked in front of me was the most natural thing in the world, and I wasn't about to screw up the mood by saying anything. (My father would have smacked up along side the head for being so stupid if I had.) She did sneak looks at me from time to time gaging my reactions.

The other sleeve came off easier since I could peel the suit from her arm by pulling on it. Her hand popped free and she was standing before me topless.

"I feel so sweaty when I get out of the costume," she made no attempt to cover her delightful breasts.

I made no attempt to hide my fascination with her breasts.

"Would you like a towel?" I offered forcing myself to look into her eyes.

I saw only amusement. I was off the hook.

"Would you please grab the one out of the bathroom."

I ran and got it thinking that she would wrap it around her chest to keep me from ogling her. Instead she wiped the sweat from her body then set it down on the couch. Costume removal kept getting better and better.

"The pants are the hard part."

She reached behind and undid a zipper.

"While I sit here on the couch, you have to pull the pants from my body.

I pulled the pants away from her hips peeling them down her thighs. The best part was when I had to run my hands inside the pants over her naked hips to break the suction of the leatherette fabric. The pants resisted my efforts the entire way to her knees where they broke free and slid off easily. I set the pants along with the top on a side chair and looked over at a nude Amy who was drying her legs. Her entire body was lean. She wasn't skinny, but there was no fat on her anywhere. I wanted to spend the evening exploring that amazing body.

She looked up and winked at me.

"If we're going to make love, one of us is overdressed."

"We're making love this evening?"

She nodded.

"I've decided that if I'm going to die of covid, then I'm going to grab what pleasure I can, and that involves having my way with you every chance I get," she leered at me, "now get out of those clothes, mister, and service me."

I did as ordered leaving my clothes in a pile on the carpet.

"I'm kind of stinky from the sweat. I need a shower."

I kissed her on the neck.

"You're perfect the way you are."

"You like your women down and dirty?"

I pulled her into an embrace by way of an answer and kissed her waiting lips. She melted into me so that we were touching from knees to shoulders. I kept her there by stroking down her back and squeezing her magnificent bottom. She ran every day and had the toned butt and legs to prove it. It was as firm and soft as I had imagined it would be.

When we broke from our kiss, she looked up into my eyes.

"This is not the way I thought I would shelter in place."

"Better or worse?" I whispered into her ear.

"Both, I didn't want to face covid alone, but now I'm terrified that I'll give it to you."

"I chose to be here. You neither asked for nor lured me," I gave her a wicked smile, "now I get to spend two weeks learning a beautiful woman's charms. I didn't bring any additional clothes over. I may have to spend two weeks completely naked with a beautiful woman. Life doesn't get any better than that."