Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Novel (A Chick-lit Paranormal book) (The Angela Panther Series) (21 page)

“I. Cannot. See. That. What are you seeing? Tell me!”

I laughed again, ignoring my friend.

“Angela Panther, what the hell are you seeing? Tell me before I lose my mind.”

I turned to Mel, and then back at the parking lot. “Oh my Gawd, Mel. You don’t see him? You don’t see the man? Holy crap, he’s a ghost.”

“Seriously Ang. I don’t see a man. I don’t see anything but a parking lot full of cars. SUVs actually, so tell me what the heck you see.”

“There’s a man running up and down the parking lot, butt naked, swinging his arms up in the air. And honey, that ain’t the only thing that’s swinging, let me tell you.”

“Is he hot?”

“Oh, God no, but he’s freaking hilarious.”

“Son of a beach! I can’t see him at all.”

Without realizing it, I brought my fingers up to my mouth and whistled loudly. “You go buddy! Make it swing! Whoo hoo!”

Mel spit her coffee onto the table. “Uh, Ang, you do realize you just said that out loud, don’t you?”

The man stopped running and stared directly at me. “Oh, shit,” I crouched down in my chair. “Crap. Crap. Crap.”

“What? He heard you, didn’t he? Is he coming over here? Oh my gawd, another ghost at Starbucks. This is so awesome.”

“Yup. Crap. I’ve really got to learn to keep my freaking mouth shut, don’t I? Crap. Crap. Crap.” I turned away from the parking lot and lowered my head. “Is he looking over here?”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, crap. My bad.”

I turned my head in slow motion, hoping the man hadn’t noticed me, but I was SOL. The man, in all his glory, and clearly proud of it, was sauntering up to our table. I tried to act casual, like naked ghosts were a part of my daily routine, and took a sip of my coffee but just as I started to swallow, the man spoke in a fantabulous British accent, and I spit it out onto the table. Mel gave me the stink eye.

“Hello, madam. Did you enjoy my show?”

“Um, hi."

Mel nonchalantly grabbed her napkin and started wiping up my mess.

“Right. Hello. So, madam, did you?”

“Uh, did I what?”

“Are you okay, Ang? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

Now Mel got the stink eye and I kicked her under the table, since it seemed to be my new thing with her.

“Ouch.”

I tried to maintain a straight face and told the ghost, “Well, actually, yes, I did, and you know what? After the few days I’ve had, I really needed a good show, so thank you, sir. Thank you very much, actually.”

Mel lost it.

The man smiled a big, broad, all teeth smile. “You are ever so welcome, madam. I am here every day between the hours of nine o’clock and eleven o’clock a.m., if you ever are interested in another performance. Next week I’ve planned a wonderful tap routine with a touch of traditional Indian dancing mixed in. I think it will be a lovely performance.”

How did he expect me to respond to that? “Oh,” was all I could muster.

“And your friend? Does she not have your gift?”

I frowned toward Mel. “No, she doesn’t. Sadly, she doesn’t get to see your wonderful performance." I suppressed a giggle.

“Right. Her loss. Last week I brought a set of blue balls and juggled them while I danced. I must say it was quite a challenge.”

I snorted. “Well, that’s wonderful and I know my friend wishes she could have seen that. I’ll watch out for you and give her the best description I can, next time. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Oh, that she will. It is not every day a man with my skill allows the public to view his talent. And please, tell your lovely friend I think she is beautiful. I was stationed in Singapore during WWII and met a lovely Japanese woman named Aki. Oh, how I miss spending time with a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, I’ll tell her, I promise.” It was hard to hold back my laughter.

“Well, thank you then, madam. For now, I must go. I have another show at another Starbucks I must get to. A performer such as I should not keep his fans waiting. Good day.”

“Good day, sir.”

The man fizzled away, which I thought was pretty cool. I looked at Mel and busted out laughing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh my gawd, that was freaking priceless, is what it was. That dude just totally streaked through the whole parking lot, and when he heard me whistle, he came up and told me, in a British accent, mind you, that he’s here every day and even juggles blue balls while he dances. Blue balls! I about peed myself when he said that. He calls it dancing and says he’s got a tap dance with an Indian flair planned for next week. I’m so coming here everyday next week. Then he told me he thinks you’re beautiful and that he dated a Japanese woman during WWII. Oh, and he sure misses the company of a beautiful woman. I about fell out of my chair.”

“Was he hot?”

I laughed because of course that would be her first question. “WWII Mel. He was in WWII.”

“He could have died young and stayed that age. Isn’t that what happens?”

“Beats me, but he wasn’t anything close to young.”

“Some older men are hot. Look at Sean Connery.”

“If you think butt old, wrinkly, bald on top and hairy everywhere else, and I mean
everywhere else
, is hot then yeah, he’s hot.”

She busted out laughing. “Figures. You get to see a naked ghost and he’s Sasquatch. Way to go, my friend. Way to go.”

“Yeah. Why can’t I see some young, Chippendale ghost instead of a hairy grandpa with a set of blue balls?”

“You didn’t actually see the blue balls, right?”

“No and praise God and thank you Jesus for that, even though they weren’t the kind of blue balls we’re thinking of.”

She laughed. “At least he had an accent. That makes him almost sort of sexy.”

“Not in this case, Mel.”

We both laughed again.

“So what were we talking about?”

I had to think about that for a second. The naked streaker ghost caused a major brain fart. “Um...oh yeah, Emily and the pill parties.”

“That’s right. I think you should have Fran do a little more research. Maybe she could find out when the next party is, and go and scare the crap out of the kids, you know...freak them out enough to not do it again?”

I realized Mel might be onto something. “I’m not sure she should actually haunt a teen party, but having her check one out might not be a bad idea.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I can’t get the naked streaker ghost image out of my mind. I think it’s permanently seared into my memory.”

“Better you than me. I’ve got Ryan Reynolds stuck in my head and I’m not at all interested in swapping him out for an old naked streaker ghost.”

“He’s mine.”

“And?”

“Get your own imaginary famous boyfriend.”

“I have several of my own, but I like yours, too. Have you seen the muscles on him?”

“Yes, I have. That’s why he’s mine and you can’t have him.”

“It’s my imagination and it lets me have anyone I want. I’ll let you have sloppy seconds.”

“You’re already having mine, so it would be thirsty thirds and that’s really gross.”

“Yup, guess I’ll keep him.”

“Imaginary boyfriend stealer. Some friend you are.”

“I know. It is a gift.” She finished her drink with one last gulp. “I’ve gotta go. I’ve got taxi duty to swim lessons for five kids, and I should have been home five minutes ago.”

“You really need to learn how to say no when people, except me of course, ask for favors.”

“No is only in my vocabulary when I speak to my kids or when I’m tired and Nick wants to have sex. Which he’s not asking for much these days anyway.”

I sensed some frustration in her tone but she didn’t elaborate so I didn’t acknowledge it. Instead we both laughed and tossed our cups into the garbage next to our table. If something’s up with Mel, she’ll tell me when she’s ready. “Okay. I’m going to talk to Ma and Jake. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Cool." We walked to her car. “Hey, have you called Linda back yet?”

“No, I need to do that, too. I’ll do it when I get home. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Yup. See ya. Text me.”

“Always do,” I said and then got into my car.

As I left the parking lot, I thought about using Ma as a tool for information about my children. Was that wrong? Should I tell her to butt out, and not tell me what’s going on? If I was meant to find out, the universe would give me that opportunity, right or could her telling me be the way the universe was letting me know? On the one hand I couldn’t help but feel like I was cheating as a parent; as if I’d be discovering things I shouldn’t know, but on the other hand was the whole “better safe than sorry” theory. Screw it. I had a mother who could snoop without the risk of being caught and if I needed to use her to help keep my daughter safe, then that’s what I’d do. Josh was another story. He could see my mother, so if I needed to snoop into his world, I’d have to find another way. I sighed heavily. He was only ten. I had a few years to figure out what to do about him. For now, the focus needed to be on Emily and Taylor and the pill parties.

###

I
ran a few errands, including trips to the grocery and dry cleaners, because my life was that exciting, then headed home to Mama duty. Jake was in the kitchen working, his stuff spread all over the kitchen table. I cringed at the sight of it, and more so when I heard him pacing on the deck, talking on the phone. Jake’s office is in the basement, far, far away from the rest of us, where it should be. He preferred the kitchen, where he could talk on the phone to people I imagined must be close to deaf because he was so loud. The louder he got, the louder we all got living our life in the main areas of the house. He shushed us often and I didn’t think that was fair. Jake was a wonderful husband, but as with any man, there were things about him that drove me insane. Working in the kitchen was one of them. So were his less than stellar basketball skills, because his discarded, dirty clothes never made it to the laundry basket but seemed to lie next to it on the floor instead.

I peeked out the back door and smiled at him. He blew me a kiss, which of course made me feel just slightly guilty for feeling cranky toward him a second ago. Ack. That was annoying, too. I went outside and gave him a quick kiss, then checked on the bird feeder, which was full of empty seeds so I whispered for him to take it down because I was too short to reach it. He did and I brought it in the house to dump out and refill after I finished with the groceries.

I put the groceries away, made a fresh pot of coffee and then made sure the birds wouldn’t starve. Jake came in and sat at the table with his pile of work crap. I grabbed a cup of coffee, filled it with French vanilla creamer and grabbed the bills from the basket on the counter. I hated paying bills. I hated taking the time to open them up and deal with them. I paid electronically and Jake kept telling me to set up automatic payments but I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment just yet. We’d only been with our bank for 17 years and I wasn’t sure they were trustworthy enough. Last month I paid our mortgage to our electric company because I clicked on the wrong icon. The good news was I wouldn’t have to pay the electric company for another year. The bad news was I had to figure out how to pay the mortgage with the two hundred dollars budgeted for the electric bill. Luckily I was smart enough to figure it out and not let on to Jake. Sometimes, when I screwed up, it was best to keep him out of the loop. I planted myself on the couch, turned on the laptop and went to work.

Josh was in the basement playing on the XBox. I knew this because I heard him screaming into his mic through the vent. Emily, I assumed, was still in bed. I clicked on the TV to catch up on what we’d DVR’d and heard a loud thump outside. Our two-story family room (don’t get me started on the wasted space) has a large picture window we’ve named suicide central. We don’t have curtains or blinds covering the window and on several occasions a bird has flown into it, ending its life with a quick smack. I rushed outside to see what hit and found a little woodpecker on the deck, breathing heavily and lying on its side. Poor thing. I rushed back in and grabbed a few paper towels – germ issues again – then picked the bird up and turned it over. It was a Red Cockaded Woodpecker, black with white spots. A female I guessed, because there wasn’t a red spot on her head. I could tell she wasn’t going to make it. I stroked her side and cooed softly to her, hoping to help her relax as she passed. It was my fault she hit the window. I’ve got five feeders out there and nothing on the window to stop the birds from flying into it. I’ve seen this little one or at least one that looks like her, out there several times eating the suet.

I continued to coo as she slowly stopped breathing. Jake came out, made sad faces at the bird and me and then told whomever he was talking to what happened. I told him it was a Woodpecker, and his expression got even sadder. I took the little bird inside and placed her in a disposable plastic container and then buried her along the side of the house, under the ivy. I said a little prayer for her and hoped I was able to offer some comfort as she died, though I probably just scared her even more. I made a mental note to get decals for the window.

###

A
fter the bird funeral, I washed my hands for a little longer than usual, fearing that I’d caught some nasty disease from the bird, and then felt bad for thinking that, though I’m not sure why. I went back to paying bills online, though I wasn’t happy about it.

“The last thing that bird saw before it died was its' ass.” Ma appeared in the family room.

I didn’t look up from my computer. “Nice, Ma. Been hanging out around your sons lately?” That was a joke one of them would have made.

“John had a BBQ the other day and I heard a few new jokes. Did he tell you the one about the blond at the bank?”

“No and I’d prefer you didn’t tell me. I’m not really in the mood for jokes right now, Ma.”

“Ah Madone, Angela. It was a bird. It’s not the end of the world. Well, for the bird it is but put it in perspective, will ya?”

“Wow, Ma, you’re just all warm and fuzzy today, aren’t you?”

“Just keeping it real.”

“Just keeping it real? Ma, have you been watching MTV again?”