Chapter 95

She pulled back to look him in the eyes. "Me too, Sam. I don't regret a moment, not for myself. Knowing you was worth a hundred-year wait. But you...you have to go on living. Promise me you'll try to find someone. A kind woman who can make you laugh again, who can share your life, maybe give you a family to fill this old, lonely house."
"I can't promise that." He wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. "After you - I don't know that any other woman would ever measure up."
No, this couldn't be happening. It was all right for him to care about her, and it was fine for him to have broken her heart. She'd given it freely. But Sam had so much life ahead of him. "You have to promise to try. The Fates wouldn't be so cruel, Sam. There's a living, breathing woman out there for you somewhere. Please don't give up." She sniffled as more tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Don't cry anymore, Evie." His voice, already hoarse, cracked. "I promise, sweetheart. I'll try. Just maybe not right away. I don't want to forget you."
"I don't want you to either." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I just want the memories to make you happy, not sad."
"I expect they'll be a little of both." He kissed her nose. "Even if I don't find anyone else, Evie, I won't regret loving you. This week has been a gift. The best birthday ever. Truly."
"Thank you, Sam." She kissed him then, and was utterly unsurprised when a little while later she found herself naked, on her knees on the floor of the room, one foot smashed up against his desk. Sam leaned above her, filling her from behind. Though they'd both come, he still leaned lightly on her back, his penis tucked into her passage.
"Mmm, thank you again." Tears forgotten, she sighed happily. "I'm glad you carry condoms in your pocket."
Sam laughed. "Only around you, you little witch. I feel like I'm seventeen again, with a perpetual hard-on."
She tipped her head turning to look at him. "You mean this isn't normal?"
"Not for a guy who just turned thirty-five." He shook his head and pumped gently in and out, his cock still semi-hard. "Damn, even if you were alive, you'd be too damn young for me, wouldn't you? You're only what, twenty-four?"
"Let's not forget I'm really one hundred and nineteen. I think, in your world, that makes me, what do they call them...a cougar?"
"Nah, you're just a kitten," he said, nipping her ear. "But if it makes you happy, by all means, consider yourself a cougar. You sure as hell make me want to roar."
He helped her up and they showered - again - and dressed, each carefully avoiding any talk of what would happen at midnight. Instead they walked the dog, cooked dinner together and prepared for the evening's onslaught of neighborhood children.
Just like a real couple, Evie thought as she settled in on the porch swing next to Sam, a huge bowl of candy between them. Sam wore a white shirt and black cape with false fangs affixed to his teeth, making him lisp. Evie wore her own dress and shoes, putting her hair up in a simple chignon at her nape with a barrette, though she didn't bother with her corset or stockings. The silky undies Sam had bought her were much more comfortable, and she wanted him to peel them off of her later.
The first of the costumed darlings showed up just after they'd settled in, the younger ones first, well supervised by parents. Evie had watched the procession from house to house before, but only from the attic windows. The tradition hadn't begun until long after her death. It was a delight to hand over candy, smiling at the children and being introduced as a guest to their parents, who were all eager to meet their new neighbor, Sam.
As darkness fell, the trick-or-treaters got older, groups of pre-teen children in clusters, some without a parent in close attendance, which was no surprise. At ten or eleven her brothers had certainly had the run of the neighborhood.
The ghosts and skeletons didn't scare Evie, even if she hadn't known they were children. The automobiles though - those worried her. She couldn't help watching them as they squealed around the corner, some barely bothering to watch for the clusters of children.
She'd gotten up to stretch her legs as the parade of costumes wound down. Walking down to the sidewalk, she turned her face up to the moon, soaking in every last nuance. She had almost four hours left. Sam planned to go in soon so they could make love one more time. It would be bittersweet, but she wouldn't miss it for the world.
Hearing another set of tires squealing, she turned to the street and saw a lone youth, maybe twelve or thirteen, it was impossible to tell in the dark. He had his head down, talking on a cellular phone and didn't hear the car - the driver of which didn't seem to see him.
Evie knew she could be killed, but she didn't pause to think. As quickly as she was capable of moving, she ran into the street and shoved the child out of the way. Then shock and pain crashed through her body and everything went black.