Unbreakable Bonds (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 2)

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  She shook me off. "Gimme a sec, okay?" She walked up onto the patio, and I wiped the sweat from my brow. I tried to stand still but couldn't stop shaking. I stayed back behind the half fence separating the unit from the one next to it. That unit was totally dark so I assumed no one was home to notice me, freak out and either call the police, or beat me with a baseball bat. Just thinking that made me shake more.

  Seconds later I heard a door slide open and Mel sprinted past me. "Go! Go! Go!" She yelled.

  I broke into a sprint and passed her before we got to the end of the units. I slowed rounding the corner, and Mel passed me again. She jumped over something a few feet in front of me. The townhome units were dark and with no outside lighting, it was hard to see the ground. I looked down, but it was too late. My foot hit something hard and solid, sending me flying through the air. I tried to turn and land on my side but was too slow. I hit the ground with a thump and landed on something furry and wiggly. It grunted like a pig and then darted out from underneath me with a squeal, but not before it sprayed me.

  The putrid smell of burning tires and long-rotted eggs engulfed me. I tried to wipe the wetness off of my face but that only made it worse. I stood and said the f-word.

  Mel ran back. "What the—" she broke off mid sentence and backed away, laughing. "Holy mother of God. You got skunked." She continued to back up as I stood there gagging at the smell.

  Mel covered her mouth, gagged and giggled. "Come on," she finally said. "Let's get you in the car."

  We got to the car and Mel opened all of the windows, including the sunroof. "First I face-plant it into a pile of wildlife poop and then I'm skunked. My life sucks."

  Mel snorted. "Just get in, Stinky. I promise we'll fix this." She busted out laughing.

  I started to run my hand through my hair but stopped, thinking it would just make my hair smell worse. "I'm glad someone finds this funny."

  "You will too, someday. Now come on, get in."

  "I can't. The smell will be there forever."

  She rocked on her tiptoes. "Well, we don't really have any other option now, do we?"

  I scanned the area—for what I didn't know, but hoping something magical would happen and I'd be fresh smelling and clean. Nothing magical happened and I was about to puke so I got in her car and told her to get me home quickly. "Maybe the smell won't stick that way," I said.

  Between gagging and laughing, Mel told me I stunk like a pig. "Or, I mean, a skunk."

  "Hardy har har," I said. "Think Jake will want to get lucky tonight?"

  "Probably. His pheromones will love your new perfume."

  "It is rather attractive, almost passionate," I said.

  "Definitely has depth and staying power, like a good perfume should." She busted out laughing again.

  I laughed, too. "You so owe me for this one," I said. "I'm serious. Anything I want, you owe me. What the heck am I gonna tell Jake? Frick, I'm totally busted."

  Mel glanced at me and tried to speak but ended up doing her gag/laugh thing again. If I didn't love her, I would have pummeled her. We got to my house and she shut off the car. "I'll go in for you," she said.

  I nodded. "Probably best."

  Seconds later she was outside with Jake and Gracie. Gracie approached me and then dropped her ears and ran back in the house. "Thanks, Gracie. I'll remember that the next time you roll in something dead," I said.

  Jake and Mel stayed their distance. "Wow," he said, suppressing a laugh. "How the hell did this happen?"

  I pointed to Mel. "This one's on you, my friend. And someone please get me a glass of wine and a few towels. I'm gonna change in the garage and hit the shower."

  They both shook their heads. "I don't think coming in is a good idea," Jake said. He typed something into his phone. "Do we have baking soda?"

  I nodded. "In the pantry."

  "Okay," he said. "What about hydrogen peroxide? We need that and dish soap."

  "I thought tomato juice got rid of the smell," Mel said. "Mix it with a little vodka and you can lick it off her, Jake." She bent over laughing.

  "I think I'll pass," he said.

  I whistled to get their attention. "Peroxide's upstairs in the hall closet. There should be three bottles. Luckily it was on sale a few weeks ago and I stocked up. Dish soap is under the sink where it always is. Not that you'd know that," I said, looking at my husband.

  He gave me the stink eye, which I found funny considering I was the smelly one. "Be right back," he said, and then added, "I'm getting the towels and your bathing suit. You can clean up out here and then come in."

  I caught Mel's eye, even though she'd been trying not to look directly at me. She shrugged, pressed her lips together and then cracked up all over again. "I'm so sorry, Angela. I'm not laughing at you."

  It was my turn to give someone the stink eye.

  "I mean, I am laughing at you, but I feel bad about it. I didn't mean for this to happen. You gotta know that."

  I nodded. "I know. What did you tell Jake?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing yet."

  "Chicken."

  "I'll tell him whatever you want, I promise."

  "Only one option, Mel. The truth."

  Her shoulders drooped and her expression sagged. "Okay."

  "Hold on," I shook my head. "Don't tell him yet. I've got this."

  Jake came out with my supplies. He went around to the side of the house and turned on the hose and brought it to the driveway while I changed. I tossed my clothes toward Mel, but she backed away. "Can you go inside and get a garbage bag for those?" I asked her.

  She nodded.

  It took me about an hour to get rid of the smell and I wasn't sure if it was still on me or just stuck in my nose hairs, but Jake and Mel both assured me I was fresh as a daisy. Just in case, Mel sprayed me with Febreze. Jake laughed and said it was stinking hilarious. "So what happened?" he asked.

  "I'll tell you inside," I said. "Mel, thanks for helping. I'll call you tomorrow."

  "I'm really sorry," she said, laughing.

  "No worries," I said and mouthed, "You totally owe me."

  We walked to her car and even with the windows open, it stunk. "Crap." She sniffed her clothes. "I think I stink a little, too."

  "Come back in the garage," Jake said. "I'll get you some towels and stuff and you can wash up here, too. Ang, can you get her something to wear home? I'll spray her car with Lysol and Febreze. Maybe that will help, at least for the short term."

  "You're an awesome husband, Jake," Mel said. "Wish Nick was more like you."

  He laughed. "Nick's not a bad guy, but few can be as amazing as me."

  I stuck my finger down my throat.

  It took Mel about half the time to wash the skunk smell off her, probably because she wasn't the one who nearly planted the stinker like a pancake.

  After Mel left, I told Jake we'd decided to go for a walk through her neighborhood instead of go to the movies. I told him I'd run into the skunk a few streets up from Mel's and that she'd gone home to get the car and drive me here. I said I didn't think I should bring the skunk smell into her house. I was getting pretty good at being dishonest and I didn't like it one bit.

  ***

  The next morning Jake woke me before he left. "I fed the dog so you can sleep in." He sniffed me—yes, he really did, and then nuzzled his face into my neck. "Hmm. You smell good."

  "Gee, thanks. But if you want me to sleep in, you gotta stop nuzzling me and leave," I said, pretending to push him away.

  He kissed me. "You're right and I gotta go. Love you."

  I blew him a kiss. "Love you, too."

  I lay there for a few minutes, trying to fall back asleep, but my mind wandered and I couldn't. I smelled myself, making sure I didn't stink, but my nose was still filled with residual skunk smell. I tossed and turned, flopping around on the bed so much that Gracie jumped up and pawed at me. "I'm okay girl, just can't get comfy, I guess." She licked my face, turned in a few circles and nestled in on top
of Jake's pillow.

  I grabbed my phone and Googled common causes for sleeplessness in women. That was a humungous mistake. It directed me straight to a site listing symptoms of peri-menopause.

  I covered my eyes. "No, I don't wanna look," I said. Gracie lifted her head and glanced in my direction, then snuggled back into Jake's pillow.

  Of the ten symptoms listed, I figured I had two, tops. Sleeplessness. Check. Hot flashes. Check. Low libido. Sometimes, if I was cranky or Jake ticked me off, so half check. Irregular periods. If irregular meant every six months or so, check. Mood swings. Well heck, I always had those. No check. Vaginal dryness. I invoked my Fifth Amendment rights on that one. Weight gain. My parents recently died so I had an excuse, and took a pass on checking yes. Tender breasts. Yikes. I thought that was a caffeine thing, but I gave that one a check, too. Migraines. Uh oh. Check. Check. Check. Though that could have been because I have kids. Urinary incontinence. Dear God, that was gonna happen? I pulled the covers over my head and wallowed in self-pity. Seconds later I was hot, so I pushed the covers off and snuggled up next to my dog as I continued to torture myself searching Google.

  Five whole checks. If that stuff was true then I was screwed. One site said a good indicator of menopause was the age your mother went through it. Huh. I hadn't a clue. I set the phone down and pouted some more.

  I flipped the cross on my necklace and my eyes filled with tears. There was so much I didn't know. What key medical history had I forgotten? What family history was now lost forever because I'd never taken the time to ask or just simply forgot?

  Desperate for answers, I broke the cardinal rule of psychic mediums—never talk to the dead in the bedroom. Linda said mediums were most vulnerable when tired, and the bedroom was a sacred place meant for sleep and sex. Talking to my parents there could open a portal for uninvited spirits, but desperation and hormonal issues beat out rational thinking. "Ma," I said out loud. "I've got some questions and would appreciate it if you, and Dad, you too, would answer. When did you go through menopause?" I sat silent and then said, "Dad, which house were you born in again? I'd like to show the kids some day."

  Questions poured from my brain and I blurted them out like an auctioneer calling out bids. No one responded and I bawled like a baby. "Why can't I hear you? Why can't I see you?"

  Gracie shifted on Jake's pillow and licked my face. I was in the throes of a major self-pity meltdown when Mel texted.

  "How's the smell?"

  I didn't let on that she'd interrupted my pity party. Some things were better kept private. "Can't tell. I think my nose is permanently damaged."

  "Clean it out with peroxide and a Q-tip. Might help. Did anything happen with the Ouija Board?"

  "Yup."

  "Oh my God. What?"

  "It spoke to me."

  "Hole-eee crap. What did it say?"

  "It said Mel is a total sucker."

  "You suck."

  "Not according to Jake."

  "Hardee har har. You're all jokes now, but when that thing starts projectiling pea soup at you don't think I'll save your sorry butt."

  "Inanimate objects can't puke, Mel."

  "You sure about that?"

  "One hundred percent," I wrote.

  "You have any weed?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Weed. You know, pot. Do you have any?" She wrote back.

  "Uh, no. Drug free, remember?"

  "Maybe Emily's got some hidden in her room. Can you check?"

  "EMILY DOES NOT SMOKE WEED." I used all capitals to stress my point.

  "AND I'M A VIRGIN."

  "And pigs fly."

  "Fine. Emily doesn't smoke weed. Forget I asked."

  "Why would you ask in the first place?"

  "Not to smoke. For protection."

  "Huh?"

  "I was researching protection from evil spirits and read that you should cleanse your house with sage, but I didn't think you'd have a big rolled thing of sage just lying around, so I thought maybe we could use a joint. You know, if Emily had one. Which she doesn't because she doesn't smoke pot."

  "You want me to cleanse my house with a doobie?"

  "Cannabis and sage are both herbs," she wrote.

  "Speechless."

  "I figured it was the next best thing."

  "Linda gave me sage last year. I'll sage when you get here."

  "Thank God. Pot stinks."

  "And I don't have any."

  "I know, because Emily doesn't smoke pot."

  "Exactly."

  "Uh huh."

  I ignored that. "She's working this morning. Come over whenever."

  "Picking up a nose plug and cupcakes and heading over."

  "It's six in the morning."

  "Oh. Staying in bed for another hour, and then getting a nose plug and cupcakes, and heading over," she texted.

  "Yum. Cupcakes. Red velvet for me, please."

  "Duh."

  "Don't forget your cross and garlic."

  "Garlic is for vampires. You need holy water for evil spirits," she wrote.

  "Then bring that."

  "I've got tap or Mountain Springs. Take your pick."

  "Bring the Mountain Springs. I have tap here."

  I heard Emily leave for work so I got up, splashed cold water on my face, put on my robe, and headed downstairs. I was grateful Mel had unknowingly cut my pity party short. Nothing good ever came from me feeling sorry for myself.

  Josh was already up and talking to his not-real friends on his X-Box. "Hey, Little Man, little early to be on that thing."

  "I'm playing with my friends in London and it's afternoon there."

  "Fine, but I don't want you on it all day. You know how I feel about that."

  "Mama, I won't end up a violent criminal. Promise."

  "I never said that. I said you get irritable if you're on it for too long."

  "I won't be."

  "Okay. Mel's coming over to watch chick flicks in a bit. We're gonna be in the basement."

  "Guess I won't be coming down there."

  I tousled his hair. "I miss the Josh that loved to watch chick flicks with me."

  "I was four."

  "You used to let me paint your toenails then, too."

  "Because I was four."

  "I can paint your toenails later if you'd like."

  "Mama, stop."

  "You're no fun."

  "Is Mel bringing cupcakes?"

  "Of course."

  "I call a chocolate."

  "Didn't say she was bringing one for you."

  "She always does," he said, and then stuck his tongue out at me.

  I stuck mine out back and shook my head. "Good point."

  I reheated a cup of day-old coffee, checked the counter for rocks (just in case), let the dog out and, coffee in hand, went back upstairs to get dressed.

  Mel sent a text saying she'd be late. "Nick had a flat this morning. He's changing it now."

  "Are you helping him?"

  "Heck no. He parked behind my side of the garage instead of pulling into his side. Don't ask me why."

  "Does your car smell?"

  "Not that I can tell. I showered again when I got home, too. Be there soon."

  "K."

  I held my coffee cup up toward the ceiling. "If that was you Ma, good job."

  About an hour later, Mel showed up with Starbucks coffees and a half dozen cupcakes. She put the cupcakes down and sniffed me. "Hmm. You smell good."

  I backed away from her. "Gee, thanks, but don't ever do that again please."

  "I just wanted to make sure."

  "I'm pretty sure Josh would have noticed if I reeked."

  "Well I wouldn't have been a true friend if I didn't check."

  "And I wouldn't have been a true friend had I not followed your husband with you, and been skunked in the process."

  "Yeah, you definitely win the friend of the year award for that one." She held out a cupcake and smiled. "Here's your prize."

  "How s
weet of you." I took the cupcake and set it on the table, then grabbed a chocolate cupcake and took it to Josh.

  "She brought you two. You can have one now, but wait on the other one, please."

  "I will." He took a bite and yelled, "Thanks, Mel."

  "You're welcome, buddy," she yelled back.

  I sat at the kitchen table. "Way to sugar up my kid before breakfast."

  She sat across from me and her eyes narrowed. "Why's he up so early?"

  "He wanted to play on his X-Box with his friends in London."

  "You know they're not friends if he's never personally met them, right?"

  I flicked my hand in the air. "Preaching to the choir."

  We both picked the frosting off my cupcake. "Tire fixed?" I asked.

  "Yup." She pulled her leg up and tucked it underneath her.

  "Anything else new?"

  "Nope."

  "Ready to do this?"

  "Nope. You?" she asked.

  I shook my head and bit my bottom lip.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Been thinking about the pizzelle cookies."

  "Liar. You're scared," she said.

  "A little, but the cookies did cross my mind."

  "Why? Are they good? Do they have chocolate in them?"

  I shook my head. "They're Italian. Flat, waffle-like cookies. Ma and my grandma used to make them. Haven't had one in years, and probably never will again, either." I let out a big breath and stared at my cupcake.

  Mel tilted her head. "You okay?"

  "Josh had a dream about Ma and the cookies, too."

  She raised an eyebrow. "And?"

  "He said Ma said she was trying hard and I'd better be grateful."

  "Trying hard at what?" Mel asked, then broke off a piece of cupcake and ate it.

  "I don't think she said."

  "That's not helpful."

  "I know."

  "I wish you'd dream about her."

  I smiled. "Actually, I did."

  "And now you tell me? What'd she say?"

  "She said I had to do the work."

  "Huh? Work for what, I wonder."

  "I told her my dad was dead and it hurt, and I needed her, so probably it's about that."