Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Novel (A Chick-lit Paranormal book) (The Angela Panther Series)

by Aspenson, Carolyn Ridder

  “Hey,” Emily grunted as she fed the dog. “You’re gonna drive me to school, right? It’s raining.”

  I’ve never been the drive my kids to school kind of mother. We pay taxes for the bus. The bus stops two houses down from ours. It wasn’t a mile, uphill, both ways, in a foot of snow and barefoot. As a freshman I rode the bus, unless I could bum rides from friends, so Emily was SOL. I shuffled over to the kitchen window and peeked through the blinds. “It’s barely raining Em, and the last time I checked, you had three umbrellas in your cubby. You can take the bus. It won’t kill you. Might even grow hair on your chest.”

  Cue eye roll and lip curl. “Gross, Mom. I’m a woman, not a dude.”

  Did fifteen-year-old girls even have a sense of humor?

  “You’re not a woman, Em. You’re a teenage girl and you’re taking the bus.”

  She rolled her eyes again and I secretly hoped they’d get stuck that way. Hey, I’m only human.

  “I guess I can’t straighten my hair then.” She stomped up the stairs.

  “You’ll survive,” I snipped back, and I didn’t feel bad about it, either.

  I took a swig of the stale coffee, relished its thick, leaded goodness, and imagined the day when Emily would have a daughter of her own. Revenge is sweet.

  I grabbed my phone and texted Mel. “My mother just died and Emily is being pissy at me. What’s up with that? I swear, if Adam had bit into that damn apple first, men would be mothers and women could scratch their privates in public.”

  “And we wouldn’t have invented tampons, so they’d have to wear pads,” she responded.

  “Oh, no. We’d still have them wearing those diaper thingies with the belts like our mothers wore. That would be awesome.”

  “Exactly! How’re you holding up?”

  For a minute I’d almost forgotten my mom had died, but it suddenly hit me in the face like a big, heavy cement block. I wiped a tear from my eye.

  “I’m okay. Have to go through pictures so my brothers can make a video for the memorial. Not too excited about that.”

  “Can’t blame you. Dropping the kids at school and coming to help.”

  “K.”

  Emily made it to the bus, in the rain, with only an exaggerated sigh and after she left; Josh, always the easy one, took an umbrella and told me not to worry about walking him in the rain because he didn’t even brush his hair this morning.

  “Have a good day, Mama, and don’t be sad.” He left through the garage.

  Mel showed up with twin grande caramel frappes from Starbucks and a big slice of red velvet cake from Target. “They didn’t have any cupcakes so I got the next best thing.”

  My mouth watered at the sight of the cake and I felt a little guilty for focusing on something yummy instead of wallowing in my sorrow.

  “I don’t think I should eat that. It’s red velvet. You know what that does to me.”

  “Yes, I know, and stop feeling guilty. It’s totally appropriate to have a cake-gasm after you lose your mother. She’d want you to feel good.".

  “I think she’d want me to wallow.”

  “Seriously? Your mother was Italian, Ang. Italian. They live, no pun intended, to please the palate. They’re all about experiencing oral orgasms.”

  “Oh my God, you did not just say that and reference my mother.”

  “Yes, I did. Go ahead, laugh. You know you want to.”

  So I did, and Mel did too, but I still didn’t touch the cake. Mel sensed my angst.

  “Come on, eat it. Fran would want you to. She’s probably looking down at you right now and screaming for you to before she finds a way to have it herself, Ang, so eat the darn thing and don’t feel bad about it. Consider this an oral orgasm from me.”

  “You’re not my type." I searched the room for Ma, but she was MIA. I wonder if that meant she didn’t see the cake?

  “Seriously woman, it’s just a piece of cake, eat it.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

  “Then go ahead Marie." She referenced my impression of Carrie Fisher’s character in When Harry Met Sally, our favorite chick flick. “Eat the cake.”

  "Oh, you got an '80's movie reference. Finally."

  "I'm learning from the master, now eat it."

  So I did. And I liked it, but only a little.

  We spent the rest of the day going through old photos, telling stories, and laughing at my bad fashion choices memorialized in print.

  “I’m confident banana clips will be back in style again."

  “Ain’t gonna happen.”

  “But leggings came back, and all that Flashdance crap is back, so why not?”

  “Because banana clips were never actually in fashion, Ang.”

  “You don’t have to be rude.”

  “It’s what best friends do to protect each other. Besides, you’d look like a puffball with one of those things. I’d be embarrassed to be seen with you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You’d be envious and jealous of the attention I received because of my well-styled mane.”

  “Keep thinkin’ that. I never once wore one of those hideous things.”

  “That’s because you have perfect Asian hair. You don’t have a lion’s mane on the top of your head like me.”

  “I would kill for your hair.”

  “You can have it, if you’ll bring back the banana clip.”

  “There are some things I won’t do, even for you, Angela.”

  “I’m feeling the love.”

  She found a picture of my grandparents from their fiftieth wedding anniversary. “Is the cemetery charging you to bury Fran by your grandparents?”

  I bit my lower lip. “I haven’t actually told them, exactly.”

  “What?”

  “I might not have mentioned to them that we were burying her in their plot.”

  “What did they say when you called? Wait, did you even call them, Ang?”

  “I intended to."

  “Dear God. Do your brothers know this?”

  “Know what, that I intended to call or that I didn’t actually call?”

  “What did you tell your brothers exactly, Angela?” she asked, sternly.

  “I may have told them it was okay, but I might have lied a little.”

  “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m just doing what Fran wanted, and I don’t want them to freak out about it. John already said something about splitting her up and doing our own things with her. That’s not going to happen. I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

  Mel nodded in agreement. “I get it. Fran was one strong lady, and when she wanted something, she got it. I wouldn’t put it past your mother to come back and haunt you if you didn’t do it her way.”

  If you only knew.

  Chapter Four

  Ma wasn’t around for days, and I had mixed feelings about it. If I believed my head over my heart, then I should have made a beeline for the loony bin, but if I went with my heart, my mother was haunting me, and strangely, I found that comforting. No one was ever ready for a parent to die. No one was ever ready for a parent to come back as a ghost either, but since that was my only option, I’d take it.

  The memorial service was in two days. The car was packed and the dog sitter all set. I gave Gracie a goodbye kiss and smelled her corn chip scented feet one more time. I knew why her feet smell like that, but I did it anyway, finding an odd comfort in the familiar scent.

  “You be good for Amy, Gracie girl. Okay?”

  She licked my face in agreement, likely hearing, blah blah, blah, Gracie girl.

  I loved that dog. She stuck to me like glue and made me feel like pond scum any time I left the house, but she was incredibly loyal and loving and never once rolled her eyes at me or talked back. How could I not love her?

  The plan was to drive the eight or so hours to Indianapolis and stay a day with my dad and stepmom, Helen, then dr
ive to the south side of Chicago for the memorial.

  My parents divorced when I was fifteen, and Dad married Helen about a year later. The first few years were rough, but eventually everyone chilled and a new kind of family formed. My parents even grew to like each other, and Ma and Helen, while not exactly friends, were pleasant and comfortable around each other. It made holidays much easier for everyone.

  Josh and Emily were in the backseat, and we weren’t even to the highway yet, but I felt the grumblings of a territory battle beginning.

  “If no one bickers, we’ll stop at the Dairy Queen just outside of the city, otherwise it’ll be somewhere in Kentucky,” I wasn't opposed to blackmailing them into behaving.

  A few minutes later Em connected her ears to her iPod and pretended we didn’t exist, while Josh connected to the portable DVD and watched Space Balls for the millionth time. Jake and I listened to the new Harlan Coben book on CD and chatted.

  An hour later, we were through the city and Emily reminded me of my promise. “Hey, Mom. We’re out of the city.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it’s only eight thirty a.m. Dairy Queen isn’t even open yet.”

  “But you said if we behaved, we could have it once we were out of the city,” Josh complained.

  Will kids ever understand not everything is literal?

  “I know, honey, but we can’t go if they’re not open.”

  I didn’t need eyes in the back of my head to know that Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Emily.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, she was, Mama."

  “Was not. You’re not even looking at me so how would you know anyway?”

  “Was too.”

  “Was not.”

  “Stop it,” Jake said, “or we won’t stop at DQ when it is open.”

  “But Mama promised,” Josh whined.

  “Well, your mother isn’t driving.”

  “Listen, we’ll go to Dairy Queen as soon as we find one that’s open, but if you two keep this up, your dad isn’t going to stop anywhere, and I’m going to have to pee soon, so knock it off, please,” I lacked patience.

  They both grunted a little and then went back to their respective electronics.

  Miraculously the kids made it through the next few hours without incident, and we rewarded them with their favorite Dairy Queen Blizzards, M&M. Jake and I both got dip cones, and headed back onto the highway.

  The problem with DQ on a road trip was the inevitable sugar rush, which then seemed to start the always annoying, she’s touching me, no he’s touching me fight between the kids, so my guard was already up when Josh started kicking my seat. I turned around, ready to give him my evil mom stare warning, when out of the blue he said, “Oh Mama, I forgot to tell you, Grandma said she doesn’t want Uncle John screwing up burying her in Chicago.” He stuffed more Blizzard into his mouth.

  Um.

  “Josh, did you dream about Grandma?” I asked.

  He put his finger up to say, hold on, and finished chewing his frozen M&Ms. Clearly he got his good manners from me. “Nope.” He stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

  “It was a dream, buddy,” Jake interjected.

  “Josh, when did Grandma tell you this?” I asked.

  “Last night.", It sounded more like laff niff with a mouth full of ice cream. I guess he got his manners from Jake, after all.

  I glanced at Emily, who was listening to her iPod, oblivious to the conversation.

  Thank you, God.

  Jake took the last part of his cone and stuffed it in his mouth. Chewing, he said, “Josh, dude. It was a dream. Grandma told you that before she died and you either remembered last night or you dreamed it.”

  Of course Jake didn’t even consider the possibility that Josh actually did see my mother. Why would he anyway? It wasn’t like ghosts frequented our house or that I’d even approached the subject of my visits with Ma since she died.

  Josh is a smart ten-year-old, and I didn’t doubt for a second that he saw his grandmother. “Jake, wait." Then I turned my attention to Josh. “Josh, tell us what Grandma said exactly and where you were when she said it.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping, so it wasn’t a dream." I was playing with my Legos and Grandma floated in through my door. She watched me play for a little while, and we talked about the new Star Wars Lego set I want, and then she told me to tell you she heard John said something at Starbucks about not burying her in Chicago, and she said I needed to tell you to make sure he didn’t mess it up or something like that.”

  I checked to see if Jake caught the part about John saying something at Starbucks, but either he wasn’t paying attention or he figured I had already mentioned it to Josh because his expression stayed flat.

  “Then I showed her my airplane, and she said she liked it. I tried to show her my new army truck, but she was gone. She just disappeared with all of these sparkly things flying off of her. It was pretty cool.” He went back to eating his Blizzard. Priorities.

  I tilted my head.

  “It wasn’t her, Ang. Your mother isn’t haunting us.”

  You wanna bet? I resisted the urge to curl up the side of my lip, and scream, yuh huh. I saw her too, so there, because I’m a mature adult and all, dang it.

  ###

  We made it to Indianapolis in record time. Jake has a way of maneuvering through traffic at ridiculously high speeds, and while Josh and Emily sat blissfully ignorant, it scared the living h-e double toothpicks out of me. I spent most of the ride either screaming, Jake, and covering my eyes or ducked down low in the seat with a magazine in front of my face.

  When we arrived, Dad was sitting in his recliner in the sunroom, but didn’t get up when we walked in. At eighty, his body, worn from years of smoking, simply wasn’t what it used to be. I had a flashback to the comment Ma made about it soon being just my brothers and me, but I quickly pushed it away. I couldn’t go there, not yet. We all walked in and said hello, and he gave me his standard greeting of “Hello, Sunshine,” and hugged me extra tight. I squeezed my eyes tightly to stop the tears. It felt good to have him hug me, even in his weakened state.

  Dad was always the consummate storyteller and man of wisdom but lately preferred to just listen instead. His breaths were labored due to COPD, and it was rough to watch him struggle. It broke my heart, but I was grateful he was still here. His health was the elephant in the room; if we pretended it wasn't a problem, then it wasn’t. I knew different, but this was the way my family worked.

  Dad and I sat in the sunroom – because he couldn’t smoke in the house – while Jake and the kids talked with Grandma Helen. “I can’t believe your mother is gone."

  You and me both.

  I choked back a sob. He’d lost so many people lately and losing my mom had to be hard even though they weren’t together anymore. They shared a life and children and I’m sure her death was a smack of his mortality for him.

  “I know. I’m still in shock. One day she’s walking around and joking with the kids and the next she’s gone. I’m still trying to process that.”

  He shook his head. “I always thought I’d go first. I never thought she would. I just can’t believe it.”

  Dad asked how the kids were handling it all, and I filled him in without telling him what Josh mentioned in the car. I explained that Emily didn’t seem at all impacted, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, but that Josh was sad.

  “I remember when your grandmother died, you tried to convince me to let you stay home from school, but you hadn’t even shed a tear."

  “I remember. I thought I could get a day off out of it, but honestly didn’t feel that sad. I feel bad about that now.”

  Dad nodded and gave me a resigned look. “You were a teenager and so is Emily. It’s normal to be selfish at this stage. She’ll feel it eventually."

  I took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I love you, Dad."

  “I love you too, babe,” he told me.

  Then
I said something that surprised both of us, because it acknowledged something neither of us wanted to think about. “I need a year, Dad. Can you just give me a year? Let me get through this, please.”

  “I’ll try sweetheart. I’ll try, Sunshine." He knew exactly what I meant.

  ###

  That night I tucked Josh in bed, and we talked about Ma. “So, when you saw Grandma, what was she wearing? I tried to sound nonchalant when really what I wanted to say was, I saw her too! Holy crap! We’re seeing Grandma and she’s a ghost.

  Sometimes being an adult sucked.

  He laid his head on my stomach. “Her blue robe. The one she always wore. And you know what, Mama? She was sort of see-through, too. At first I thought it was the robe that was see-through, and that sort of grossed me out. I was kind of afraid to look at her because I didn’t want to see any of her private parts, you know? Old people are kind of wrinkly.” He shuddered. I nodded in agreement because old people’s private parts sounded yucky even to me.

  Each time I saw my mom she’d been in her blue robe, too. She died in that robe, so I assumed it was the only wardrobe choice available. I’m going to have to die in something fashionable. Lord knows I don’t want to suffer through eternity wearing a bad outfit. “Well,” I told him, “I’m sure we’re all going to think about Grandma for a while, until we’re used to her being gone. Maybe when we think we see her, it’s God’s way of giving us more time with her, you know?”

  Josh sat up, his face serious. “Mama, do you see Grandma too?”

  He needed to hear the truth, because maybe he was a little scared, and knowing I saw my mother would have to be some sort of comfort to him, but really, how do you tell a child that, yes, you believe he did see the ghost of his dead grandmother, and oh, by the way, I’m seeing her too? Without sounding like a complete idiot or having child services come for an interview, that is. “You know, buddy." I pulled him into a good snuggle, “I believe you. I think our minds let us see Grandma to help us remember her.”