Unbinding Love: An Angela Panther Mystery Novella (The Angela Panther Mystery Series) (12 page)

Carnations in various colors sat in vases on stands around the lobby, attacking my nasal passages like an old woman drenched in
White
Diamonds perfume. Almost instantly I had a sensory overload headache. The entire room smacked of old people, but I guess it should since it was really mostly old people who died. Jake crinkled his nose at the smells, too. We both moved quickly as we followed
the signs to the assistant
funeral director’s office, almost like we were running from a skunk. I silenced my cell phone, knowing my best friend, Mel, would probably text. I’d talked to her just after Ma passed but not since. I was sure she’d check on me sooner rather than later.

Before Ma died, we talked about what she wanted, and I promised
her I’d honor her requests. They were simple. She wanted to be
cremated
and buried with my grandparents in Chicago. Since we lived in the suburbs of Atlanta, we’d have her body cremated here but her
memorial and burial would be handled separately.

My brothers, John and Paul, were already in the assistant director’s
office. There was a spread of coffee and its fixings set out on the conference
table, and I made a beeline for it. I’d have an IV of caffeine
inserted into
my wrist if it were socially acceptable. Actually, forget socially acceptable. I’d do it even if it weren’t. Coffee for me was like sex to a
twenty-year-old man – never too much and never too often.

My oldest brother John lived nearby, and was with Ma and me when she passed. Paul lived in Indiana and didn’t make it here in time to say goodbye. I could see the angst and regret on his face. I said hi, hugged both of them, and turned toward my chair so I wouldn’t cry. Crying in front of my brothers made me appear weak
and I refused to let that happen.

“Ma wanted to be cremated and buried with her parents,” I told the assistant funeral director, a short, squat man, with a bad comb-over and a blue paisley tie that didn’t quite fit over a mid-section that rivaled Santa’s.

“Yes, your brothers told me,” said Comb-over. “It is our policy to return the remains to the loved ones for proper burial if our services are not being used.”

We all nodded in agreement, and then Paul asked Comb-over if he could see our mother.

Comb-over gave us what must have been his really sympathetic face. “Oh, no. No. I’m sorry. It is against our policy to allow family
back into the crematorium. You understand.”

Paul nodded his understanding.

Seriously?

“Excuse me. My brother wasn’t able to see our mom before she died. He lives out of state and couldn’t get here, so I’m sure you can make an exception. I mean, it is our mother and we are paying you after all.”

Jake smirked in my direction, liking my passive aggressive technique, and I gave him a quick smile.

“Well. ” Comb-over back-pedaled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He then gave us what was obviously his,
I am not making enough money for this job
face, excused himself and closed the door behind him. A chill
filled the air, and I hugged my arms to my chest for warmth.

My brother's mouths gaped. “Well, it’s a stupid rule and
someone had to call him on it.”

Paul nodded. “Thanks."

I nodded and then saw my mother floating behind him, smiling, too. I shook my head to clear the image but it didn't work. She was
still there.

“You’re such a good girl. I knew you loved your brother."

“Uh, I guess I do.”

Paul tilted his head. “You guess you do what?”

Well, crap. For a brief second I considered saying,
sorry I was
talking
to the ghost of our mother, who, by the way, is floating behind you,
but
instead went with, “Look behind you,” as I pointed behind them.

They did. “What?” Paul asked.

Ma winked at me and laughed. They couldn’t see her.

“Oh, nothing. I thought there was a spider or something on the
wall, sorry.”

Probably it wasn’t a good time to tell my brothers I could see our dead mother and I wasn’t sure there would ever be a good time for something of that nature.

Paul started to say something again, but Comb-over walked back in. The man may have been a fashion nightmare, but his timing was
impeccable. He coughed lightly and straightened his tie. “We don’t normally allow anyone into the crematorium, but given the circumstances, we’ll make an exception.”

We. Uh huh. We, as in the big boss, I bet. I smiled my
I won
smile and thanked him. Comb-over explained since our mother was being cremated, they didn’t prepare her body as they would for a
traditional
burial. I assumed that meant she’s not made up and nodded my
understanding. He walked over to the closed door behind my
brothers and walked right through my mother.

She shuddered. “Oh, Madone, that was creepy.”

I concentrated on the wall and searched for the imaginary spider and tried to ignore her.

Through the doorway I saw my mother lying on a gurney, the mother that wasn’t floating in the room with me, that is. My eyes shot back and forth between the horizontal Ma and the floating Ma. This was all a little confusing. First I had one Ma, and then she died.
Now I had a
dead Ma and a ghost Ma. If they both started talking to me, I’d get right up and drive myself straight to the loony bin. I stood up and shook off the crazy. “Ah, Paul, you can go first.” He did.

The fact that I took control of the meeting was not lost on me. As the youngest of the siblings, my brothers always considered me the baby,
never quite aging me past a toddler in their mind so for them to
acquiesce authority in this situation was surprising. I wrote it off to their shock and grief at losing Ma and expected the newfound
respect to burn out quicker than a birthday candle. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit to enjoying it just a little.

We all said our goodbyes to my mother. I couldn’t hear their private whispered words, but I could hear Ma responding. Not the Ma
lying on
the gurney, the ghost one. As I said, it was confusing. Like the loud
Italian
woman she was in life, her raspy,
I’ve had one thousand too many
cigarettes,
voice enveloped the room, for me at least, since apparently I was the only one who could hear her. “Oh Pauly, it’s okay. I’m not mad that you weren’t here. Don’t be upset. It’s okay.”

I always knew he was her favorite.

Paul and I haven’t always had the smoothest of relationships. In fact, as a child he wanted me dead. No, really. He tried so hard to make it happen he actually pushed me in front of slow moving cars three times. I was lucky to suffer only emotional, not physical, damage. Attempted murders aside, my heart ached for him now. The guilt of not being
there
when Ma passed would haunt him forever, though I couldn’t help
but wonder if that was easier than being haunted by her ghost.

***

An hour later, the four of us sat with coffee in hand, at Starbucks. Coffee made everything seem better, if only a little. Before we left the funeral home, Paul asked Comb-over to let us know when Ma’s body was cremated. I preferred not to know, but everyone handles death
differently and Paul needed what he needed so I didn’t argue. Admittedly,
backing away from an argument with Paul was a new thing for me. Ma’s
death had really messed with my brain.

We were discussing the arrangements of her burial when I got the call. Comb-over told me they’d started, and as I nodded to Jake
and my brothers, a heavy sadness filled the air.

I disconnected from the call and stayed on task. “Okay. When
should we go to Chicago?”

“That’s a good question,” John, the over thinker of us siblings, said. “I’ll call the cemetery later today and find out if we can bury Mom with Grandma and Grandpa. If they won’t let us, we’ll have to figure out what else to do. I was thinking maybe we could each take
a portion of her remains and do something with our kids to honor her.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. That was not going to happen. I promised Ma I’d do this for her and I’ll be damned if I didn’t do it right. Especially
since she was haunting me. There was no way I would to spend the
rest
of my waking days with the ghost of my mother pissed off because
we didn’t honor her final wish. No way.

“It’s okay,” I blurted out before Paul agreed with John. “Ma was worried about the same thing, so we called the cemetery a few weeks ago and found out that it’s fine.” I took a quick breath and hoped God wouldn’t strike me dead for lying.

“They told me that as long as we’re not getting a stone, the plots are ours to do with as we please. Except for digging up our grandparents, that is.” I checked the sky, but still no lightning. Phew.

My brothers nodded. “Okay.”

Dodged that bullet. What’s wrong with a few little lies? This was what Ma wanted and eventually I’d tell them the truth, once she was buried and we were on our way home. Or maybe next year. What’s the saying? Ask for forgiveness, not permission. That’s what I’d do, eventually.

I offered to make the memorial arrangements even though we all knew they’d have asked me to do it anyway.

I filled them in on my call to our cousin. “I already called
Roxanne, who said she’d make the rounds of calls, and since the funeral home here said they would put the obituary in the Chicago papers, that’s covered. Does the weekend after next work? That gives us all time to plan accordingly.”

“I don’t see a problem with that, but I’ll have to check with
Elizabeth and see what her schedule is,” John said.

Jake nodded in agreement with his eyes still glued to the screen of his iPhone.

Paul nodded too. “Let’s go through all of our pictures of Mom. I can make a video with music, and we can show it at her memorial.”

We all agreed that was a great idea and made plans to confirm the date over email by tonight. My brothers left Jake and me there to share our addiction to the warm, smooth taste of coffee. We got refills before we headed home, too.

The rest of the day I was on autopilot and truth be told I couldn’t remember much of it. One minute Jake and I were getting coffee and the next it was after ten p.m. I kissed Jake goodnight and went upstairs and checked on the kids, who were already blissfully sound asleep.

“It’s done,” I texted Mel after I settled under the covers.

“I’m sorry,” she texted back. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay. Going to bed. I’m tired.”

“K. I’m here if you need me. (HUGS).”

Unfinished Business

An Angela Panther Mystery

Unbreakable Bonds

An Angela Panther Mystery

Uncharted Territory

An Angela Panther Mystery

The Christmas Elf

An Angela Panther Holiday Short

Santa’s Gift

A Cumming Christmas Novella

8 to Lose the Weight

For more information visit

carolynridderaspenson.com

So many people continue to play a part in the Angela Panther mysteries. Jenn Nahrstadt for her proofing excellence and much valued opinion. Stephanie Konat for her marketing know-how and attention to detail and Tatiana Vila for her fabulous book covers.

Of course I can’t leave out the much-appreciated help of Ara Baronian and Nick Sotor, both incredibly patient professionals in law enforcement. Thank God they each understand I really am writing a book when I text them with ridiculous questions at all hours of the day.

As always, a big dose of love to my husband
Jack, for his love, support, patience, and most importantly, his incredibly selling skills. I wish he’d be my agent but alas, he has a job already.

To be notified of future releases

and receive a free copy of Carolyn's holiday novella,

Santa's Gift, A Cumming Christmas Novella,

Carolynridderaspenson.com

MORE GREAT READS

FROM

CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Mystery

In
UNFINISHED BUSINESS AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY, #1
AMAZON
bestselling author Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
introduces her now trademark blend of witty dialog and hilarious banter in the first book of her hilarious and heartwarming paranormal chick lit, cozy mystery, Angela Panther series. 

When Angela Panther's mother Fran Richter wakes her up in the middle of the night ranting about stolen Hershey Bars, Angela thinks her mother's got a screw loose. And then it hits her. Her mother is dead. Just a few hours before, Angela watched as the funeral home staff nearly dropped her mother's body off the gurney while sliding her into the hearse. So maybe she's the one that's nuttier than a fruitcake?

But Fran keeps popping in and with a volcano full of drama already brewing at home—crazy or not—Angela's grateful for her mother's presence.

It's the other ghosts Angela can do without.

Seems Fran's return opened a portal between Angela and the other side and ghosts are hitting up the reluctant psychic medium for help. From the naked British guy juggling balls in the coffee shop parking lot to the woman desperately trying to save her sick child, Angela must find a way to balance her own life with the unfinished business of the dead.

Unbreakable Bonds An Angela Panther Mystery

"Be careful what you wish for because karma has a way of biting you in the butt." That's what Angela Panther's mother always said.

 And boy was she was right.

 When Angela first discovered her gift to gab with ghosts, she fought it tooth and nail. But the second she decided it wasn't so bad, tragedy hit and the universe decided to teach her a lesson.

Now she's unable to chat with the other side and is crying out for a re-do.

When her best friend Mel suspects her husband of cheating, she asks Angela to help her prove it. They concoct the perfect plan to get the goods on him, but to make it work they'll need help from Angela's mother, Fran. 

There's just one tiny little problem--Fran's dead.

As the two best friends set out on a cheater-catching adventure, they hope Fran can use her celestial super powers to help, and prove that the bond between those who've crossed over with the ones they've left behind is never broken. 

In 
UNBREAKABLE BONDS, AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY,
AMAZON 
and
Barnes & Noble
bestselling author Carolyn Ridder Aspenson’s
snarky dialog and hilarious banter between psychic medium Angela and her best friend Mel will leave you laughing in tears, and the touching scenes between the living dead will tug at your heart strings.

Uncharted Territory An Angela Panther Mystery

Just when psychic medium Angela Panther thinks she's got her gift figured out, the universe smacks her in the head with a curve ball, or three.

When an unidentified fourteen-year-old boy takes a dive off an interstate overpass, Detective Aaron Banner asks Angela to find out what really happened, and to whom. Only, the boy’s spirit has other plans for her—help another lost soul and forget about him.

But Angela's never been good at taking orders.

With the help of her dead-but-not-gone mother, Fran, and her best friend, Mel, who’s now newly single and on the prowl, Angela sets out to discover the truth about both the jumper and the girl he wants to help.

And boy, is she out of her league.

Armed with little more than their double lattes and a tiny pink bottle of wannabe pepper spray, Angela and Mel must venture far out of their comfort zone to solve two mysteries.  But will it be enough to protect them from the dark side of Atlanta and its gun-toting teens and child abductors, so they can help the dead to finally rest in peace?

To be notified of future releases and receive a free copy of Carolyn's holiday novella, Santa's Gift, A Cumming Christmas Novella, visit

Carolyn Ridder Aspenson