Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Novel (A Chick-lit Paranormal book) (The Angela Panther Series) (6 page)

I rolled my eyes at her again, and completely understood why Emily did it to me. Moms were annoying. I redirected myself to Naomi. “It was so nice to see you, Naomi. Thank you for coming.”

Ma grinned at Naomi. “She looks so good. Tell her she looks good.”

I shot my mother a glare. “Naomi, my mother always talked about how beautiful you are, and she was right, you look fantastic.”

“Oh, yes,” Ma said. “That’s good, real good.”

I ignored her and walked Naomi over to the video.

“Oh, isn’t this lovely,” Naomi said, and then pulled out an envelope from her purse, and handed it to me. “I made you copies of some pictures of your mom from the old days.”

I took the envelope and thanked her.

“Lemme see those pictures, Ang.” Ma was nervous.

Naomi watched the rest of the video as Ma and I glanced through the pictures. Naomi told me again how much I resembled my mother –
minus the enormous breasts
, I thought to myself – and then she pulled out another envelope.

“Ah, Madone. She brought
those
pictures. That woman, always trying to stir up trouble.”

Oh yeah, potential blackmail photos
. This was good.

“Merda,” Ma swore in Italian.

I held back a giggle.

“Your mother was a wild one back in the day, she was. So fun and full of life, and always getting herself in trouble.” She handed me the envelope.

Ma swore again. “I liked to have fun, so sue me.”

I made a big deal out of opening the envelope slowly, just to torture Ma a little. The first picture made me laugh out loud, and most of the room turned and stared at me. Whoops. Probably that wasn't appropriate at a memorial service.

Naomi giggled. “The first one is from a day we went to the Brookfield Zoo, before your parents were engaged.”

“She made me pose for that picture. It was her fault.” She stuck her tongue out at Naomi, even though the woman couldn’t see her.

“Is she um, cupping that lion’s private parts?”

“Yes, and she said she’d only marry your father if his uh...area, was bigger than that statue.”

I mentally filed that little tidbit in the TMI file.

Naomi giggled again. “And she told me it was, too.”

I so did not need to know that.

“Jesus. Mary and Joseph,” my mother vented. “I did not say that. Okay, I did say that but, I’d had a few shots of Anisette and was a little tipsy and I couldn’t help it.”

That time I couldn’t hold back the giggle.

Naomi laughed again. “Oh, what fun we had back then.” She noticed my mother’s urn. “I sure do miss those days.”

“I do too,” Ma said.

Ma sounded so sad. I swallowed back the lump that formed in my throat and wondered if, when the time came, it would be Mel or me who said those things first. Knowing her life was over and looking back on it must have been hard for my mother. I hadn’t thought about that before and internally chided myself for being so selfish. Her death wasn’t just about my loss, it was about her loss, too.

The next picture was one of Ma with her hair chopped above her neck. “I’ve seen pictures of her with her hair short,” I told Naomi. “I’ve always wondered why she cut her hair. It was so beautiful.”

Naomi giggled again. I loved her giggle. She sounded like one of those little people from the
Wizard of Oz
. Ma gave her the evil eye – an old, Italian curse – and I grabbed the Italian horn – meant to provide protection from evil – dangling from my neck and rubbed it between my fingers. I smirked at Ma, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“Oh, it’s a very funny story,” Naomi said. “Your parents were engaged, and your dad was away for some time, though I don’t remember why now. Back then ladies didn’t telephone men, you know, but your mother, she didn’t care about the rules and decided to call him anyway. The person who answered the phone said he’d left the day before to visit his fiancée. Fran was so upset because he wasn’t with her so she thought he’d found another woman. She hung up that phone in tears and told us the wedding was off, and then she locked herself in the bathroom. It took us girls an hour to convince her to come out, and when she did, she’d chopped off all of her beautiful, black curls. Your grandparents were so angry when your dad finally showed up two hours later, your grandmother chased him away with a butcher’s knife.” She giggled again. “She didn’t realize the fiancée they were talking about was her and he just hadn’t gotten to her yet.”

Ma laughed. I laughed so hard I snorted, and everyone stared at me again, but I didn’t care. “I bet that’s why she always said Dad gave the engagement ring from her wedding set to someone else. Dad said he lost it, but she always stuck to her story.”

“Lost it, my ass,” Ma said.

I snorted again and Naomi laughed too. I hoped it wasn’t because she heard Ma.

###

T
he burying of Ma’s remains was for immediate family only. Good thing, too, considering the cemetery wasn’t clued in on the event. Probably a procession of cars would have drawn unwanted attention from the cemetery staff.

The urn sat inside a box smaller than a shoebox and as Jake got ready to dig the hole for it, I felt a wave of sadness come over me. It was hard to comprehend that all that was left of my mother was in this tiny container and then reality smacked me in the face as Ma dictated where and how to bury her. My mother was dead, but apparently that didn’t stop her from telling me what to do. She was like a fly buzzing near my ear and I felt the urge to swat at her to make her stop.

“Hold on,” I told Jake before he began to dig. “I forgot something in the car.” I used my eyes to signal my mother to follow me and walked back to the car.

Facing the car so no one would see me talking to myself, I told her, “Mother, seriously, stop. You’re driving me nuts.” I gave myself a face palm on my forehead. “You cannot stand here.” I paused, realizing what I’d said. "Float here, I mean, and dictate how you want to be buried. I’m handling it, okay?” I opened the car door, bent down and grabbed a magazine from the floor, backed out of the car and closed the door.

“You don’t have to be so harsh, Angela. This is important to me, is all, and I want what I want. It’s my final resting place. I should have it how I want it, you know. It’s like my final wishes and you’re supposed to honor them.”

I rolled the magazine into a tube, and barely moved my lips. “Final resting place? Come on Ma, you haven’t rested for a second since you died.”

“Have so.”

Sometimes being haunted by my mother was like having a toddler again.

“Have not. Ma, listen, I’ve got this, okay. I promise we’ll do it right. Give me a break, will you? Let me say goodbye to you in peace.”

She gave me a funny look.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“You coming, Ang?” Jake yelled.

“Be right there,” I replied. “Ma, it’s going to be fine. I promise.” I walked back to my grandparents’ plots, magazine in hand.

“Why do you have a magazine?” Jake asked.

I shook my head. “I have no idea." I dropped it on the ground.

Everyone, including Ma, watched as Jake carefully dug a small section of grass and dirt up from between my grandparents’ plots and placed the box into the hole. Each grandchild placed a flower they’d chosen from the memorial service on the top of the box. One by one we approached her remains, each of us honoring her in our own private way. Ma floated near, quietly watching. This was a heavy moment for everyone, even Ma.

Teary eyed, Jake replaced the dirt and grass on top of the box. He knew I hadn’t called the cemetery to get approval for this, so he was careful to make sure it didn’t look like the ground had been touched. After he finished, we all stood there, not knowing what to do next.

Finally John turned toward the cars and walked away while his family followed. My family did the same. I assumed Paul would follow, but instead heard him shout at his youngest daughter, Faith. “Faith, stop it. What are you doing?”

We all turned to see Faith jump on top of where Ma was buried, then stop and stand perfectly still. Paul grabbed her, held her up – I could see him trying to relax – then put her down and calmly asked, “Why did you do that, Faith?”

“Because Daddy, we have to pack Grandma in tight so her seeds will stick,” the little girl cried.

“Oh boy,” Ma said.

Paul squatted down in front of Faith. “Honey, Grandma doesn’t have seeds. You know Grandma is in Heaven, right sweetie?”

Faith was six and I didn’t think she understood the concept of death. “Of course Grandma is in Heaven, silly. Father Pat told me. I told him she couldn’t be in Heaven because she wanted to go to Chicago, but Father told me that Grandma already went to Heaven, and that what Uncle Jake buried here were special seeds that God had us plant so we can grow mommies that will be grandmas for other kids someday.”

Emily and Ma giggled, but everyone else was quiet. I thought it was a nice explanation to give a six-year-old.

Paul gave his daughter a sad smile. “Oh, I see, but why did you jump on the grass then, sweetie? I don’t understand.”

“Daddy, you know you have to make the ground right for seeds to grow. Remember when we planted that rose bush in the yard? You told me to pat the ground down or it wouldn’t grow, so that’s what I did for Grandma. So she can grow like the rose bush.”

Paul nodded, picked her up and whispered something in her ear. Faith gave him a tight hug. “I love you too, Daddy.”

I rubbed a tear from my eye and Ma curled her lips into a half smile. I pretended not to notice. She floated back over to her parents’ graves.

Paul set Faith back on the ground and we started to walk to the cars again but Faith turned back and waved to my mother.

I grinned and glanced at Josh, who saw too.

I
t’d been a week since the memorial, and life went on like nothing had changed for anyone. Anyone but me that is. In just a matter of seconds I went from being a woman with a mom, to a woman whose dead mother hung out while she drank stale coffee, and I couldn’t share it with anyone but my ten-year-old son, and that really didn’t seem all that appropriate.

Sometimes I thought it would be easier for her to be gone completely, so I could truly grieve, but each time I considered what that actually meant, I pushed the thought away. I didn’t know how long she’d be here, and honestly, having my mother with me as a ghost was better than not having her at all.

School was out for summer break and I knew I’d probably go to Hell for this, but I dreaded the summer. Some mothers relished this time of year, but it made me feel trapped and anxious. When the kids were younger, I had fun with them, but now that Emily was a teenage drama queen I would prefer only partial custody, like every other weekend and alternating holidays. Sadly that doesn’t happen for happily married parents. So far the kids were being unusually demanding, which made me miss my alone time even more. Jake had been out of town, back to his regular schedule of traveling most of the week, and all kids, all of the time made me cranky and a cranky Angela was never a fun Angela, for anyone.

I texted Mel and vented. “Ugh. Is summer almost over?”

“In your dreams, Ang.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“You say that to me a lot.”

“Maybe you should get the hint.”

“Have a cupcake. You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll get fat.”

“I’ll have one too. We can get fat together.”

“You’re Asian. Asians don’t have fat cells.”

“Have you seen my cousin Lu?”

“You don’t have a cousin Lu.”

“Well if I did, she’d be fat.”

“Want to meet for margaritas tonight instead of coming over in a bit?”

“Can’t. Nick is working late again. Seems to be doing a lot of that lately. Probably because the kids are home more and he hates them.”

“He doesn’t hate them.”

“Well he should. Sometimes they’re easy to hate.”

“That’s because they’re your kids. If they were mine, you’d love them and chastise me for saying anything bad about them.”

“True, but still.”

“I’ll text you when I’m ready for you.”

“K.”

I stepped back into the reality of my life...my house. Emily had her phone glued to her hand and texted God knew what to God knew whom. Her best friend, Taylor hadn’t left her side, and I started to think that instead of talking face to face, they were texting each other. She asked to go to the neighborhood pool, and I blurted out a much too excited sounding yes, even before her sentence was complete. Whoops. I made a mental note to sound less excited about her leaving the house next time.

“Geesh, Mom. Trying to get rid of me or something?”

Abso-freaking-lutely.

“Of course not, Em. Why would you think that?”

“I can tell you’re being sarcastic, you know.”

“Who, me?”

She sighed. “So can I really go?”

“Yes, Em. Just be home for dinner, okay?”

“Fine." She and Taylor went up to her room to change into their bathing suits.

It was the day I planned to go through Ma’s things, and I preferred to do it without my family around. Jake got home late last night and got up early to take Josh to the park to practice lacrosse so Mel could come over and help me.

I sent Mel a text. “The coast is clear.”

“On my way. One stop first,” she texted back.

I smiled, knowing she planned to bring cheesecake and cupcakes, because everything was better with cheesecakes and cupcakes.

As I grabbed the special “Mel and Angela” coffee cups I had made last year, she walked through my garage door into the kitchen. “Lookie,” I told her. “Our cups.” I held up the cups and made a crazy face. Mel’s cup had a picture of her wrapped in Kevin Bacon’s arms, and mine, an image of me snuggled up next to a much younger Andy Garcia. We didn’t personally know Kevin Bacon or Andy Garcia, but Mel was a wiz at Photoshop, and when she posted the pictures to FaceBook, I quickly downloaded them and had a set of cups made for each of us. It’s the little things that make life fun, and these cups made me smile every time I saw them.

“I love those cups. I told my family if they ever break one of mine, I’ll disown them.”