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

by Aspenson, Carolyn Ridder

  He took the fireplace shovel and mixed up the ashes in the pit. “Yes, I know that, but what can we do? It’s not our kid having the parties. We can’t parent every teenager in town, Ang.”

  Great minds think alike, don’t they? “I’m not saying we have to parent them, Jake. I’m saying something has to be done to stop these parties.”

  “What did Fran say happened at this last one?”

  “She stopped it.”

  He stopped mixing up the ashes. “She stopped it?”

  I threw more bills into the fire. “She made sure no one took any pills and that they all left.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She can’t keep doing that, Ang.”

  “That’s what I thought too, but if it’s the only way to stop these drug parties, then I’m not going to make her stop. Besides, this is my mother we’re talking about. When have I ever been able to make her do anything?”

  “The kids aren’t going to stop taking the pills, Angela. They’ll just find another place or another way. She’s not going to stop them completely, just postpone the inevitable.”

  “I know.”

  “We can’t worry about everyone else. We have to focus on our kids and keeping them safe. I’m not saying we should ignore the problem, but we aren’t going to solve it either. The best we can do is inform the parents about what’s happening and hope they’ll do what’s right for their kids too. Then maybe the parties will stop, but even if they do, the kids are just going to find another way.”

  He said much of the same things I’d said to Ma, or thought to say, and we were both right. I leaned my head into my husband’s chest and inhaled the smells of the man I loved and a hint of the memory of the bonfires of my childhood. My heart ached to go back in time, to a time when life wasn’t so complicated. “It sucks being an adult sometimes.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Yup, it does.”

  ###

  Later that night when the kids were safely tucked into bed, I snuck peeks at both of them, and Ma floated in as I tiptoed around Em’s room, picking up the clothes on her floor.

  “Your room was always a mess, just like this.”

  I walked out of Em’s room into the hallway. “My room was never that bad, Ma.”

  “Like hell it wasn’t. I couldn’t see the floor from the time you turned fourteen until you left for college, Angela. It was so bad I forgot the color of your carpet.”

  I smiled at her. “It was multi-colored neon, duh.”

  “No, child. That was the color of your wardrobe. The carpet was underneath all that crap.”

  “My clothes weren’t crap, Ma.”

  She tilted her head and smirked.

  “Okay, so maybe I was a little too Flashdance, but it was the ’80s and I was hip.”

  “It was ugly, but I compared to what girls wear now, you looked like Mother Teresa.”

  I laughed. “I’m going to bed, Ma.”

  “That’s a good idea, Ang. You look like a raccoon with those dark circles under your eyes.”

  “Thanks, Ma. I can always count on you to make me feel better.”

  “That’s what I’m here for." She shimmered away.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The next morning I was back in swing, my normal morning routine on schedule. I fed the dog, straightened up the kitchen, left post it notes everywhere to make sure everyone knew what they were supposed to do, and then headed out for a run. It was early enough to run a good three miles and not die from heat exhaustion. I drove to the greenway, parked the car, put my ear buds in and clipped my keys onto my shoe.

  I did a few stretches and then started my run with a brisk walk. My mind focused on the feel of the air against my face, and I felt my feet start to run to the beat of the music. I thought about the pill parties and tried to figure out what I could do to stop them but kept coming up with the same solution. Nothing except talk to other parents but I realized that these things were just going to have to work themselves out. Jake and I had to focus on our kids because ultimately they were what were most important in our life.

  Frustrated, I ran a little harder and it felt pretty good. I didn’t realize how much stress I’d bottled up since Taylor died and it felt good to be hot and sweaty, so I kept my speed at the kicked up rate and barely noticed the cold rush of wind when it hit me. The woman running next to me though, was another thing entirely.

  “Hello? You can see me, right?"

  I didn’t acknowledge her, just kept running.

  “I know you can see me. They told me you could.”

  They? My eyes shifted in her direction, and I was pissed at them for betraying me.

  “You can see me. I knew you were the right one. Please. I need your help.”

  It was early, but the greenway was already filled with earlier risers. I didn’t want to talk to this ghost and look like a nut case, so I sped up into a sprint and about burst a lung running to the closest bridge. Once I reached it, I veered off to the side and bent over to catch my breath. The ghost was right next to me, and I can admit it ticked me off that she wasn’t breathing heavy at all.

  I held my side and started walking in circles. “Cheese and rice, that hurts.”

  “You can run fast."

  I held my side. “Yeah, well, thanks, I guess.”

  “I need your help. They told me you could help me.”

  I stopped circling and look at the woman. “Who told you that?”

  “The others like me.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They told me if I focused my thoughts on you, I would find you and that you’d help me. Will you?”

  “Listen, um...what’s your name?”

  “Heidi."

  “Okay, Heidi. I don’t know who these others are you’re talking about, but yeah, I know you’re dead, and yeah, I see dead people and all that, but I don’t really help them, okay? Maybe every once in a while, but I’m trying not to make a habit of it.” I squatted down and tightened my shoelaces, then put my ear buds back in and started to walk back to the path.

  “Wait, please.”

  I stopped and spoke softly. “I don’t want to help you. I just want to finish my run, go to the grocery store, go home, make something in the crock pot for dinner and clean up the house. I just want my easy, boring life back. I do not want to help ghosts.”

  “Please, it’s my son. He’s just a little boy.”

  Crap. She played the kid card. I bowed my head in defeat. I turned around and went back to the side of the bridge, away from other early risers. “Fine. I’ll help you, but only if you promise to tell whomever told you about me to stop spreading the word. I’m not doing this anymore, okay?” I hadn’t actually realized I’d made that decision until the words came out of my mouth. Honestly, I was a bit surprised and even a little ashamed at my behavior but part of me felt good to say it.

  The ghost was confused. “Okay, but you’ll help me with my son?”

  “Yes, fine. What do you want me to do? Tell him you love him? Tell him you’re watching over him? Tell him where you hid the expensive jewelry?” I winced at that last sentence; it was rough, even for me. I shook my head and gave her a half smile. “I’m sorry. Please, tell me what you need. I’ll do what I can, but then I really need you to tell them to not send ghosts to me anymore. Okay?”

  She nodded. “My son is eight months old. He’s sick, but no one knows it yet. He’s in pain, but my husband is grieving so much, he doesn’t understand. He can’t see it. He thinks Channing cries because he’s hungry or tired or needs a diaper change, but he’s sick and he needs medical attention. Please, can you help him?”

  I pulled out my ponytail and gathered my hair up again to redo it. “What do you mean, he’s sick? What does he have? Colic or something?”

  “No, it’s not colic. It’s called Krabbe Disease. He got it from Stan, my husband, and from me. We both have the gene.”

&nb
sp; I didn’t understand what she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is. Is it life threatening? Does he need to get to a hospital or something right away?”

  She nodded. “He’s not going to live much longer. It’s a terrible disease that causes the protection around nerve fibers to break down, and it kills brain cells, so the nerves around the body stop working. It’s extremely painful, and that’s why he’s crying so much. But my husband, he doesn’t know we have the gene, and he’s too upset about me to see something is really wrong. I need you to tell him.”

  Oh boy. This wasn’t going to be easy, I knew that much. “How do you expect me to tell him something like that? Why would he believe me? I’m a complete stranger.” I started walking in circles again, but this time it was to ward off the headache I knew was coming. “I don’t know if I can do this, Heidi. I’m sorry.”

  “You have to. Please. My son is hurting. They can give him pain medicine. He doesn’t have much time left. Please, you have to tell Stan.”

  I realized that no matter how hard I wished for this to stop, until I figured out how to meditate and focus, it wasn’t going to. Ghosts were going to find me, especially now that the word was apparently out, so I needed to suck it up and make the best of it. “Okay. Let’s do this. Where is your husband now?”

  “He’s at home with the baby. My mother-in-law is helping, but she’s at the grocery, so you should go now, before she gets back.”

  “Where is home?”

  “The Cambridge subdivision. I’ll take you there.”

  We got back on the path and I ran at a good clip so I’d get to the car quickly. While running Heidi talked to me and I talked back by holding the mic on my iPhone ear buds to my mouth, acting like I was talking on the phone. I’d only run about a mile before Heidi found me, but I would pay later for running back to the car in a near sprint. I’m not a runner, I’m a jogger, and there’s a big difference between the two. I knew the next day’s recovery would be brutal.

  I did a few quick stretches at the car and guzzled a bottle of water. I started the car and rolled down all of the windows to let out the hot air. “I know where Cambridge is, but you’ll have to direct me to your house.”

  “Okay.” She seemed nervous and I felt bad for being nasty to her. She was a mother and regardless of the fact that she was dead, she wanted to help her child. I felt like a piece of crap for trying to find a way out of helping.

  We talked while I drove. “What do you want me to say to your husband...what’s his name again?”

  “Stan.”

  “Stan. Right. I’m gonna need something from you so he’ll believe it’s really you.”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking about that.”

  I waited, but she didn’t say anything else. “Well? What’d you come up with?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Great. This will be fun.”

  “I’ll think of something, I promise.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want your husband throwing me out, or better yet, calling the police.”

  “He won’t. I’ll think of something.”

  “Just please, please tell them, whomever they are, to stop sending people to me. Please. I’m not ready for this yet.”

  “I will, but it won’t stop, Angela. You have a gift.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before, but it doesn’t feel like much of a gift. I’d prefer something like a diamond bracelet or maybe thinner thighs. This isn’t a gift. It’s more like a curse.”

  The ghost smiled at me. “You’ll change your mind about it soon enough.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my ma told me, but I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

  “It will.”

  “How do you know? Ma said the same thing, but she won’t explain it to me. Will you?”

  She frowned at me. “I can’t. I don’t really understand it all myself. I just know that eventually you’ll get used to doing this, and you’ll find you’re doing it more and more, and you’ll feel good about it, too. It’s just going to take time, like an adjustment period. Turn left at the stop sign.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish the adjustment period would hurry up and finish already.”

  ###

  Her house was a nice sage green, hardy plank two-story with a front porch. It was pretty, with flowers sprouting from three beds in the front yard and a cherry tree next to the mailbox.

  “Nice flowers.”

  “Stan has an incredible green thumb. I killed everything I tried to grow, but he can grow anything.”

  “My thumb is black, too.”

  We headed up to the front door, and I took three long, relaxing breaths before I rang the bell. Heidi told me to stay calm, that she knew this would be okay. I felt like I was going to puke.

  Stan answered the door with the baby crying in his arms. I could tell he was flustered. “Yes?”

  “Mr. uh,” I didn’t know his freaking last name. Sonofabitch!

  “Merritt,” Heidi said.

  “Mr. Merritt,” I blurted out.

  “Yes, who are you?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Angela. Um, I’m a...a friend of Heidi’s.”

  “You were? You don’t look familiar to me. Were you at the funeral?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t. I didn’t know your wife very well, actually, but I’m sorry for your loss. I’d like to talk with you if you don’t mind. May I come in? I won’t take up too much of your time.”

  The baby continued to cry, and his head drooped backward. I glanced at Heidi, who just stared at her son.

  “Um, sure, I guess. What did you say your name was again?”

  “Angela.”

  “Okay. Come on in.” He held the door open for me. “I’m sorry, my son is really tired. I don’t think he’s sleeping well, and I’m not sure what to do anymore. He’s crying a lot lately. Do you think maybe he senses that his mother is...is gone?”

  I smiled sadly. “I think babies sense a lot of things we don’t understand, so I think he knows something. He may not be able to understand it, but I think he knows.”

  We walked into a great room that was clearly decorated by a professional. Wood beams stretched the length of the two-story ceiling and a stacked stone fireplace I’d kill for centered the space. White couches sat perpendicular to the fireplace, with beige and burgundy pillows resting on them, adding a touch of color. Pictures in all shapes and sizes filled the walls, each in glass frames. It was incredibly beautiful and my mouth gaped open in awe.

  “I was an interior decorator,” Heidi said.

  “This is stunning. Heidi told me she was a decorator but I didn’t know how good she was.” Hmm. I was getting kind of good at this.

  “Yes, she had a gift. She’s decorated several homes for the Atlanta Braves and was on a celebrity special on HGTV a few years ago. She was finally getting paid what she deserved and then she died.”

  I realized then I didn’t know how Heidi died. I felt my heart start to beat faster, nervous that I’d screw this up. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, at least she didn’t suffer. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. It was quick, and she didn’t even know.”

  “I had a brain aneurysm. I was at a client’s house showing her paint samples and the next thing I knew, I was floating into a bright light. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “I understand that aneurysms are quick, and I guess that’s a blessing of sorts."

  “Yes.” We both stood there for a minute, the baby crying and me looking around, trying to act casual. “May I ask why you’re here?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I know this is odd, but I wanted to talk with you about Heidi and the baby.”

  “The baby?”

  I breathed another deep breath in and out. Okay, two more, actually. “Yes, the baby. Oh boy. I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it straight out. You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

  He interrupted me, and I saw his back stiffen. He p
ut the baby, still crying, in the bassinet next to the couch. “What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

  “Mr. Merritt, your baby is sick. He’s got something called Krabbe Disease and he’s in a lot of pain. That’s why he’s crying so much.”

  The man looked at me, then at his baby, crying in the bassinet, then back at me again. “I don’t understand. He’s sick? How do you know that?”

  “Heidi told me.”

  “Heidi told you? When? Before she died? Why would she tell you and not me? I don’t understand.”

  “She didn’t tell me before she died. She just told me about an hour ago.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want you to leave, now.” He walked toward the front door.

  I whispered to Heidi. “I could use some help here.”

  “Tell him it’s in the yellow shoe box in the closet, the one with the blue top.”

  I was confused. “What’s in the yellow shoe box in the closet? What are you talking about?”

  “The book. Tell him.”

  “The book is in the yellow shoe box in the closet. The one with the blue top.”

  “Not the one with the white top. It’s the one behind it,” she said.

  “Not the one with the white top, but the one behind it.”

  He stopped, turned around and stared at me. The baby cried louder. “How do you know that?”

  “Heidi told me. She’s here. Mr. Merritt, your wife is here and I can see her.”

  I was getting used to the look of surprise on people’s faces when I told them this stuff.

  “Tell him to go look. He’ll believe you then.”

  “She said to go look, and that you’ll believe me.”

  “She’s here, right now? In this room?”

  I nodded.

  Stan Merritt shook his head, walked over to the baby, who was still crying, then turned and went upstairs. I heard him moving things around and swearing.

  “Don’t worry. Once he sees the book, he’ll believe you. I promise.”

  “What’s the book?”

  “It’s a notebook of wedding vows we wrote before our wedding. We couldn’t decide what to say, so we each wrote ideas in a notebook, but after the wedding, I put it away and couldn’t remember where. He spent most of the day looking for it yesterday and was so upset. I know when he finds it, he’ll believe you, because we’ve tried to find it for the almost five years.”