PRAISE FOR

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY

"I laughed and I cried...and laughed...and cried...throughout the entire book! This book was so real (yes even with the heroine seeing her mother's ghost) and the emotion in it will stay with me for a long, long time!"

—Joe Cool Review

"It definitely touched a chord with anyone who has ever lost a loved one. The writing was strong and the dialogue -- which many people simply cannot write—was terrific."

—Christie Giraud, editor, Editingpro.com

"What a fantastic read! I couldn't put it down! I had to keep reading just to see what twist life was going throw out at Angela next!"

—Chicklit Plus

"The author has a great sense of humor, even about death, but when the story called for it, she was reverent and empathetic in the way her characters handled each other."

—Caroline Fardig, Bestselling Author of

It's Just a Little Crush

To be notified of future releases and receive a free copy of Carolyn's novella, Unbinding Love An Angela Panther Mystery, visit

Carolynridderaspenson.com

THE EVENT

AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY NOVELLA

CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

March 2018

Copyright 2018 CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

Cover Design by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

EPUB ISBN

Library of Congress Control Number:

For my mother and father

Rita D. Ridder

&

Richard L. Ridder

RIP

MEL TOSSED THE LIME GREEN DRESS ONTO THE BOUTIQUE FLOOR AND PLOPPED INTO THE CHAIR BESIDE ME. "What was I thinking, getting married on St. Patrick's Day? I can't have a green-themed wedding. Look at me." She spread out her arms and laughed. "Green is definitely not my color."

I ogled the tacky green dress lying on the floor and busted out laughing.

She smacked my arm. "You're not helping."

I sniffled. "Sorry. I don't know why you went with the green thing anyway. Just tell Aaron you don't want to do it. He'll understand."

"I can't. It's his first wedding. He should have what he wants."

"His first?"

"You know what I mean."

"Tell him you want to elope, then you don't have to worry about any of this."

"That's not a bad idea actually, but I can't. My mom's already told my whole family. I'm already getting gifts."

"Seriously? Am I wrong in thinking second weddings shouldn't include gifts?"

"You're just trying to get me to say it again, aren't you?"

I pressed my lips together to stop from smiling. "Say what?"

Mel knew me so well she just slid right past my feigned innocence and kept talking. "It took me two weeks to convince her not to throw me another shower. I'm sure she told everyone to just send the gifts straight to me."

"Wow. What'd you get so far?"

"Three toasters, two Keurigs and three rice cookers."

My eyes lit up. "I've always wanted a Keurig."

"Done."

"What're you going to do with the duplicate gifts?"

She shrugged and removed the last shamrock green dress from its hanger. "No. I can't. I just can't."

"Come on, just try it on. I think the red rose on the straps—" I ran my hand across the bottom of the dress, "and bottom will do wonders for your complexion."

"I'm finding another matron of horror."

I held up the ungodly green monstrosity the salesperson suggested for my maid of honor dress. "Good luck with that. If you think anyone else will wear shamrock green just for you, go for it."

"Speaking of, why don't you try on a few more dresses?"

I waved my hands in front of me. "Oh, heck no. Not today."

She pushed me out of the dressing room. "Oh, heck yeah. I think it's a mighty fine idea. We definitely need to make sure our dresses match."

A different saleswoman approached us. "Can I help you with—" She checked out Mel's dress, and I caught her flinch, but she covered it up quickly. "Oh, my. Doesn't that dress look stunning on you?"

"Stunning? Yeah, something like that," Mel said. "Angela here needs to find the perfect matron of horror, I mean, honor dress. Same type of color, maybe a shade or two lighter."

"Well, honey, the bridal party doesn't typically wear the same color as the bride." She eyed the dresses draped over our forearms. "May I ask why you're going with that color again?"

"We're getting married on St. Patrick's Day, and my fiancé wants a themed wedding."

"Oh, my. Isn't that dandy?"

I laughed. "Yeah, dandy. That's what I'd call it."

"Shut it, Panther." Mel smiled at the woman. "What would you suggest then?"

She examined Mel, letting her eyes travel up and down her body, and ran her fingertips through Mel's long, luscious black hair.

Mel stiffened, and I smacked my lips together again. "With your skin tone, I'd stick with a soft pastel color. A cream or soft pink, and either of those would go well with your theme. Besides, the bride should be the focus of positive attention on her wedding day, and I'm not sure a green dress will give you that kind of attention." She brushed a strand of hair away from Mel's face. "You tell your fiancé to come talk to me if he doesn't agree with that." She crooked her finger. "Follow me. I'll pick out a few things for each of you."

I didn't need my spidey sense to know the woman knew what she was doing.

She threw dresses at us like a mad woman. Pinks and creams for Mel, but she stuck with the green monstrosities, including the ones Mel picked, for me.

Mel walked back into the dressing room to try them on. When she walked back into the store's main fitting area, she took my breath away. "Wow."

She pirouetted. "You like?"

"No, I love. That's the one. It's beautiful. You're beautiful." Tears welled up in my eyes. "Gawd, I'm already crying, and you haven't even paid for the darn thing."

She faced the mirror, ran her hands down the pink lace and smiled at her image, tears falling from her eyes, too. "It is gorgeous, isn't it? I feel like a bride again."

"Uh, you are a bride again. And it's not just the gown that's gorgeous, it's the woman in it, too."

"You think?"

"I know. And seriously, your boobs. Look at those things. They're massive in that dress."

She cupped them. "I know, right? If one of those green ones made my boobs look this good, I'd probably buy it."

We both laughed.

"You definitely need to buy this one."

"Definitely."

Both saleswomen walked up, and the touchy-Feely one gasped. "Oh, my. That is the one. It highlights all your finer parts. Look at this." She ran her hands up Mel's waist and over the sides of her breasts. Mel caught my eye in the mirror and blanched.

I nodded. Mel was a people magnet. All sexes loved her.

She winked, knowing what I was thinking.

"You'll have all the men wishing they were the groom in this dress," the first saleswoman said.

"Do you think I'll need it fitted?" Mel asked.

"Honey, I don't think it can fit any better," touchy-Feely said.

"What about Angela's dresses?"

"Oh, I don't think any of those are right," I said.

Mel snorted. "Of course, you don't."

"Green really isn't my color. Besides, I'm going to talk to Aaron and set him straight about this themed thing."

Something caught my eye in the corner of the room. I glanced over, and a tiny green blur rushed past and jumped straight into the wall.

A normal person doesn't normally see things jumping into walls, but I wasn't normal.

"Maybe I should try on a few other colored dresses, just in case. Just to see what else is out there? Could you go and grab a few things that would coordinate with Mel's dress, please? I'd appreciate it."

"Why, sure. I'd be happy to," Touchy-Feely said, and both sales women walked away.

The tiny, green blur appeared again, but it wasn't blurry anymore, and it definitely wasn't tiny.

Mel danced like a princess, oblivious to the green guy standing in the corner.

"Um, Mel? We might have a problem."

She stopped and waved me off. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure Aaron'll be fine about the color change. We'll just tell him green's going to be the accent color. I'm getting this dress no matter what."

"No, not that. I mean here. We have a problem here."

She checked out the area. "We have a visitor?"

I nodded.

She flipped around and gave the room a detailed once-over. "A ghost? Where?"

I pointed to the green dressed guy with pointy ears barely showing under a large green top hat, standing in the corner, smiling at me. "I…I don't think so."

"Excuse me? What's that mean?"

"It means I don't think it's a ghost."

"It's not a demon, is it? Because that would be a really bad omen. Oh my God, it's a demon, I know it. My wedding hasn't even happened, and I'm already doomed." She flung herself onto the couch against the wall, right near the guy in the green suit. "I'm screwed."

"It's not a demon, and I don't think you're screwed."

"This marriage won't fail. It can't fail. I won't let it. I can't go through that again."

I watched her neck turn the color of an overly ripe tomato, and the color travel straight up her face. I plopped down next to her and rubbed her leg. "You're not going to fail, and it's not a demon, I promise."

"If it's not a demon, and you don't think it's a ghost, what is it?"

I glanced back at Mr. Green Suit. He winked at me, and then he disappeared. "I'm pretty sure it was a leprechaun."

* * *

We cut the dress up session short. Mel asked touchy-Feely to hold her pick for twenty-four hours, saying she wanted to make sure, and we bolted to the car.

I drove straight to the nearest Starbucks and got us each extra shot skinny vanilla lattes. Mel probably didn't need the extra shot, but I did so I could keep her from losing it. When I set them on the table, she didn't even notice because her head was bent down toward her phone.

"Leprechauns aren't real. I can't find any kind of urban myth or anything, just stupid folklore. It had to be a demon."

"Yes, because everything on the Internet is true?"

"Abe Lincoln says so."

"Em hmm."

"I'm pretty sure if someone actually saw one it would have trended on Twitter at some point," Mel said.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know a leprechaun when I saw one, but you go ahead and believe strangers online over your best friend."

"You see ghosts, not leprechauns."

"Until today."

She twisted her ponytail and clipped it to the back of her head. "This is bad. I know it's bad."

"No, you don't. You don't even know if he's got anything to do with you. For all we know, he could be attached to Ms. Touchy-Feely, who, by the way, totally had the hots for you."

"It's an Asian thing. We appeal to every gender."

"And Italian German women don't?"

She stared at me, a serious expression setting on her face. "Yes, because no one's intimidated by a Gestapo officer brandishing a wooden spoon."

"Wow. Just, wow."

A slow smile curved onto her lips. "I crack myself up."

"At least someone in the room thinks you're funny." I giggled. "I crack myself up."

She flipped me off and went back to the demon leprechaun theory of hers. "It's definitely a demon out to ruin my happily ever after."

"It is not."

"Whatever, but I'm sure as hell not going back there to find out."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

She caught my eyes as they glanced behind her and froze. "He's here, isn't he?"

I dropped my chin to my neck—but it stopped when it hit a suddenly appeared twin chin I'd refused to acknowledge—and raised my eyes to her.

Mel dropped an F-bomb.

"I think you're okay though. I don't think he's here for you."

"You can't know that."

"Yeah, I can."

"How? How could you know that? It's impossible to—"

"Because every time you talk, he shakes his head, but when I talk, he nods."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Thank God."

"Because better me than you, right?" I smirked.

She leaned back in her chair, and I watched the tension leave her body in a heavy breath. "Damn straight."

"Feelin' the love, Mel. Feelin' the love."

"You know what I mean. I mean I'm glad my wedding isn't screwed, but I don't want anything creepy happening to you either."

"Gee, thanks."

"What're you going to do?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? You've got a leprechaun on your tail, and you're just going to ignore him?"

"Oh, so now he's a leprechaun and not a demon?"

She blushed. "I might have panicked a little."

"Maybe just a bit."

"But seriously, you're going to do something, right?"

"Yup. I'm going to ignore him."

A few months before I'd made a decision in haste and ended up beaten to near death. A few broken ribs, badly bruised ribs and a spleen that's functioning was questionable—among other physical and emotional damage—and I'd yet to fully recover. Until I was strong enough to defend myself I refused to deal with anyone that lacked a heartbeat, or anyone involved with them. Except my mother and father, of course, but Dad rarely came around, and the Universe had revoked my mother, Fran's, visitation rights until further notice, if ever. I'd yet to find out why, too. Instead, they just pulled her privileges when I needed her most—during the beat down. I'd spent the last few years at the beck and call of the Universe, yet when I needed help, it screwed me. I had no intention of doing a thing for them again.

Mel held my hand and squeezed. A lump at the bottom of my throat tried to push its way up, but I swallowed it back. I wouldn't let it get me. Not ever.

"You have to let it go, Ang. It's time. Forgive yourself."

I yanked my hand away. "Forgive myself? For what? I didn't do anything wrong. They did." I pointed to the ceiling. "It's them I can't forgive."

"They didn't almost kill you. You decided to do what you did. It was a choice, and that choice determined what happened next."

Mel and I didn't often disagree, but this was a sore subject, and if I didn't stop it then, it could turn ugly. I stood to leave. "I'm not doing this. I have to go anyway. I have somewhere to be."

She followed me out with Mr. Green Suit trailing behind. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just worried about you."

I clicked my FOB and unlocked the two front doors of my new Infiniti, the car my husband Jake purchased for me last month, a month after the incident. He thought it would give me something to be happy about. What everyone failed to realize was that I wasn't unhappy.

I was pissed.

The Universe gave me a gift I didn't want, but I ran with it. I did what was expected, was the go-to for ghosts, and when I needed them…when I needed help, I got nothing. I nearly died, and the Universe didn't care. That wasn't my choice. That was theirs. I'd just stopped trying to explain.

Mel hopped in the front, and Mr. Green Suit floated into the back seat, pressing his body firmly onto the leather upholstery. I watched as his chest expanded and then deflated. Was he breathing?

Most spirits weren't solid, and they certainly didn't breathe, but I ignored my curiosity and flipped toward him. "Take a hike, buddy. This ain't Uber."

His eyes sparkled, and a slow smile took over his face, but he didn't budge.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine then, stay if you want, I don't care."

He gave me a thumbs up.

I watched for another second, and when he still hadn't disappeared, I turned back around and pressed the ignition button.

"That was kind of harsh, don't you think?" Mel asked.

"You're worried about me being harsh, and you thought he was a demon?"

"That's my standard go-to fear."

I kept my eyes peeled on my review mirror while backing out of the parking spot. I didn't want Mel to see the anger I felt brewing inside me. "How ‘bout you let me handle this my way, okay?"

She shrugged and then kept quiet the rest of the drive to her house. When I pulled into her driveway, she hugged me. "I love you, and I'm not trying to upset you. I'm just worried about you."

The tension in my shoulders softened. "I know. I love you, too."

"Call me later?"

"Will do." I smiled as she shut the door behind her.

I knew Mel was on my side, that she wanted me to deal with what had happened, and I was. The problem was I'd changed, and the Angela she knew, the one everyone knew, was gone. LeAnn Jacobs and Stu Walker, the two who'd beaten me, they hadn't killed my physical body, but they'd killed my spirit.

A new Angela was born. A stronger, harder Angela—one that refused to let them win, ever again.

Any of them.

Five minutes later I'd pulled into the Defense Tactics studio parking lot where my friend Detective Scott Price stood by the door waiting for me.

I grabbed my gym bag from the backseat where Mr. Green Suit had been just a few minutes before and groaned as I pulled it to me. I bit my lip hard to distract myself from the pain in my abdomen.

He smiled. "You sure you're up for this? You were pretty sore last time."

"I'm not afraid of a little pain."

We held our eye contact for a few seconds, and then he said, "Okay then," and opened the door.

The only way Price would work with me was if I took it easy and wrapped my abdomen. I'd fought him, saying if I got hurt in a fight, I couldn't pause to wrap anything then, so it shouldn't matter. He was adamant though, and I needed the training, so I acquiesced. I found the wrap in my bag, pulled up my shirt and put it on.

Two months before I would have been embarrassed and at least asked him to look away, but I no longer cared. All that mattered was getting stronger. If Price felt the need to look, that was his deal, not mine.

He didn't. He turned away and busied himself until I finished.

We ran through the basic series of beginner self-defense moves as a warm-up and memory refresher. Next, he put me through a series of punches. I wanted Price to teach me to fight, not just disable and run. If presented with the choice, I wouldn't run, and to me, not fighting was the same as running.

He held my waist and forced me to draw my power from my hips and core.  I dug my upper teeth into my lower lip and tasted blood. We'd had three sessions so far, and my form had improved. I still lacked real strength, but eventually, that would improve, too. Doing anything with two broken ribs and a badly bruised body wasn't easy, but sheer adrenaline drove me.

We moved to kicks, and I forced myself to bust through the pain, focusing on improving my speed and intensity. Powerful kicks came from the core, not the leg. Flashes of sharp, piercing pains shot through my abs and in my lungs. Tears flooded my eyes and poured down my cheeks, but I didn't stop.

I wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop.

I screamed, and even though my kicks were probably softer than a toddler's punch, they took every ounce of energy I had. I could barely breathe, my ribcage bursting in agony, but I kept going and finally landed a superb kick right where it hurt most.

He yelped and went down. "Jesus, Panther, that hurt." He cupped himself and rolled back and forth on the ground. "You're a lot stronger than you think."

I stood over him trying hard not to giggle. "I'm sorry. They have things you can wear to protect yourself down there, you know."

"I'm wearing one, but that doesn't stop them from hurting."

"Oh." How would I have known that? They didn't make cups for women.

"Let's take a break. I'd like to make sure I can still have kids someday."

I pulled my water bottle out of my bag and drained it in a few gulps. My ribs were on fire, and I paced the small studio to distract myself from the pain.

Price saw me wince. "We can finish later. You need to rest."

"No."

"You're damaging your body more by not giving it time to heal."

"I gave it two months. It's time to suck it up." I worked on my technique against one of the heavy punching bags lined up near the back wall. I kicked and punched with all the limited force my core allowed. I rotated sides and came at the bag with a half twist from my left, screaming from the stabbing pressure it caused. I didn't let it stop me though, kicking and punching with my stronger side. I reminded myself that though I'd barely survived the beating, I did survive, so I could handle the pain to strengthen my body and mind, too.

"Never again," I yelled. "Never," I punched the bag harder. "The hell," I kicked the bag with my stronger leg. "again."

With each move I imagined LuAnn Jacobs and her sorry excuse for a nephew, Stu Walker, screaming out in pain. The harder I punched and the stronger I kicked, the more I imagined them falling to the ground, begging me to stop, and the better I felt.

Price walked up behind me and held my shoulders until I stopped. "I think that's enough for today."

I bent over in pain, breathing like I'd just run two marathons and then pushed him away. "Five more minutes."

He tightened his grip. "No. You're done. You're pushing too hard today. What the instructor says goes, remember?"

He was right. We'd made that agreement when I'd approached him for help, so, I couldn't argue. I wiped the combination of sweat and tears from my face. "Fine." I clutched my ribs as I walked back toward the bench.

"I think we should cut back to two times a week." He threw me a towel from the rack near the front desk. "Don't know why I let you talk me into three in the first place. Aaron will kill me if he finds out, and I don't even want to know what Jake would do."

I dried off with the white hand towel. "Nothing because he isn't going to find out, remember?"

He nodded. "I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it, but you can't hide it forever."

"I don't want to hide it forever. Just until I'm healed, and they can't give me crap about it."

He sat next to me, pressed his palms into the tops of his legs and sighed. "You're not a victim. You've proved that. I don't know anyone, hell, not even my S.W.A.T buddies, that would work themselves with an injury like yours. You need to let yourself heal."

I threw the towel to the ground. "Come on. Like I haven't heard that a million times already? I was a victim, but I won't be the next time." I inhaled too deep, and daggers stabbed at my core.

Price watched as I paced through the pain again. A former Navy Seal, he saw things I couldn't begin to imagine. His experience was exactly what I needed to take back my life. As a police officer, he trained both recruits and victims in self-defense. Aaron was also a certified instructor, but I needed someone objective, someone who wouldn't worry about the emotional side of it, and Price promised he was that guy.

He nodded. "

As I walked out the door he said, "One day this won't matter as much as it does now."

I tipped my head once and smiled, but he was wrong. It would always matter.

* * *

When I'd first approached Price for help, we met for what he referred to as the classroom part of self-defense. He taught me about the awareness pyramid and how it applied to various situations. I'd never thought about it, but it made sense, and I'd kept myself in a constant state of awareness since that day.

There are five levels of awareness ranging from totally oblivious to fighting for your life. Most people, at least before September 11, 2001, spent their days in the totally oblivious state, the white zone. After the terrorist attacks, the general public probably stepped up to the next level, yellow, where they were relaxed but attentive. That was my usual state, especially since I had to keep my eyes out for spiritual beings. The orange was for a heightened state of awareness, where the person knows there is a potential threat any and everywhere. The beat down changed my world, and I moved from the yellow to the orange and stayed there. I saw everything, everyone, as a potential threat, and I planned to be prepared to take them out. I kept focused on everything around me, and even though there might not be a potential direct threat of danger right beside me, I knew one always lurked just outside of my safe zone.

The last two levels, the red and black, were where the threat was up close and personal, and when the fight is active. I didn't plan to step into the black zone where I'd have to fight for my life because I intended to take them out in the red zone before they saw me coming.

I wasn't naïve. I knew, no matter how much I wanted to tell the Universe to take a hike, it wasn't my choice. But that didn't mean I had to do things on their terms. They changed the rules when they took my mom from me, so I decided to change how I played the game.

My personal F you to the Universe.

Price labeled my attentiveness anxiety. I called it my safe zone, and that was why I didn't flinch when I saw Mr. Green Suit nuzzled in the front passenger seat of my car, his green top hat squished into the ceiling instead of floating through it.

I threw my bag into the back seat. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."

He flashed his creepy, toothy smiled.

Most spirits weren't solid, their bodies transparent enough to make their living status obvious. Some weren't though, and those were the tricky ones. Several times I'd found myself standing in the grocery store chatting it up with an older woman, and then she'd suddenly shimmer away. Before, I'd leave my groceries in the cart and rush out thinking half the store saw the crazy woman talking to herself about the amount of sugar in her Cheerios. But once I made the news a couple of times, I stopped caring.

Mr. Green Suit fell into the tricky category, solid as a brick and not a hoverer. When he swallowed, I watched his Adam's apple bobble.

If leprechauns were real, what exactly were they?

"What are you?" I poked him with my finger, and it made contact with his green vest. I flinched. "You're not a ghost, are you?"

He shook his head.

"Then what? Are you alive?"

"Not really."

"Ah, so you do have a voice. Why don't you use it and tell me what you want from me?" I positioned myself to drive and started my car.

"I don't want anything from you. I'm here to give you something."

"I'm pretty sure you don't have anything I want, but thanks."

I'd exited out of the parking lot and onto the main street about two miles from my house.

"What if I told you-you could have anything you wanted?"

I slammed on my brakes and made a hard right at a street I'd almost passed. The driver behind me honked and flipped me off. I waved my apology.

I pulled into the subdivision's clubhouse parking lot. "Okay, spill it."

"If you could have anything, what would you want? What would you ask for?" He gave me his toothy grin again. I didn't trust it.

I stared at him, not really sure what to say.

"Think about it," he said, and then he disappeared.

* * *

I had the house to myself. Jake had texted earlier saying he and Josh were out practicing driving, and Emily was at work. Lately, all I'd wanted was alone time, so I headed straight to take a relaxing, healing bath.

I dumped half a container of lavender scented Epsom salt into the steamy water, let the tub fill some, added soap for bubbles, and dipped my toes in, only to jerk them right back out. The water steamed from the tub, and I should have realized it was too hot to get in. I flipped up the cold water nozzle and filled it some more, and then finally eased myself in, sinking down to chin level so my entire torso would feel the relief from the medicinal salt. I closed my eyes and refused to think about what Mr. Green Suit asked.

The mixture of salt and bubbles felt wonderful. I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet lavender scent and enjoyed the quiet until Gracie's cold nose bumped my forehead.

She licked my wet face.

"Hey Gracie Girl. What's up?"

She licked my face again as if I'd understand the non-verbal cue.

"Do you need to go potty?"

Her tailed flopped back and forth, and then she turned in circles and settled on the rug in front of the tub.

Gracie didn't leave my side for the first few weeks after the incident. She'd always been my girl, but she must have sensed my pain and glued herself to me even more. Dogs were intuitive, and I suspected Gracie knew I'd changed. She sensed the anger inside my soul, and I wondered if her decision to stay by my side was out of protection or support.

I finished up in the tub when the water cooled, and Jake and Josh pulled into the garage. I tensed a bit, waiting for the sound of car meeting wall but it didn't come. Last week while practicing, Josh backed out of the driveway, tugged the steering wheel to the left and smacked right into the neighbor's mailbox. He and Jake spent the next day pouring cement into the hollow shaft to secure it back into place.

I put on my pajamas, catching my breath as pain seared through my lungs. Price was right. I'd pushed myself too far. I gave myself a moment and then practically crawled downstairs to say hello.

Josh gave me a once over. "You okay, Mama?"

"Yeah, just tired from trying on dresses with Mel." I hated lying to my kid, but I didn't want him to worry any more than he already did.

Jake hugged me without squeezing. "We're thinking pizza for dinner. Sound good to you?"

I nodded, shuffled to the ‘fridge and grabbed a flavored water. I'd given up Diet Coke and just about everything yummy tasting and jumped on the clean eating bandwagon. I wanted my body fit and strong, and for that to happen, I needed to view food as fuel, not fun. It wasn't all that hard to make the switch. When it's too painful to move, the last thing you want to do is get up and get a cupcake because you had a craving. "Can you get me a salad with grilled chicken?"

"Will you ever eat pizza again?" Josh asked.

"I'm sure I'll treat myself sometime, but I'm really trying to take better care of myself so I heal faster."

Jake called in our order and left. Josh stayed with me.

"I saw Uncle Ernie," he said.

Josh also had the gift, but it hadn't impacted his life as it had mine, and he took it all in stride. I hoped it would continue that way for him. So far, the Universe hadn't asked anything of him, and the last thing I wanted was for him to carry the burden I carried.

My Uncle died four years before Josh was born, but that didn't stop them from forming a relationship. He'd come to Josh through dreams at first, and when Josh was old enough to recognize him in a picture, he started coming around during the day. They'd established a strong connection, and I loved it. "You did? What did he have to say?"

Josh grabbed a flavored water from the ‘fridge too, and then he pulled out a chair from the kitchen island and plopped into it. "Nothing really."

Josh was a kid of few words, and it annoyed me like crazy. Getting him to string more than two sentences together was practically a miracle. "Okay then. So how was your day?"

"Fine."

"How ‘bout you give me a little more than that?"

"It was fine. Just a normal day."

"Did anything exciting happen today?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

"How about anything unexciting?"

"Found out a girl in my class is pregnant."

Josh was just fifteen. "Dear God."

"Yeah, said the father is some guy she met at the bowling alley."

"I don't even want to know." I was just thankful it wasn't my daughter. "That girl's life is changed forever."

"What about the kid? He's screwed." Sometimes Josh lacked empathy. He got that from his father.

"Well, I hope things work out for the best for all of them."

"The dude's like your age."

I winced. "Then I hope he's in jail."

"She's sixteen already. Age of consent."

"Tell that to her parents." I changed the subject, asking detailed questions to get more than just a yes or no answer. He filled me in on his driving, the meeting with the new lacrosse coach at the school, and an assignment he had for AP Biology. I told him if he needed help with that he'd have to hit up his dad because biology wasn't my thing. He agreed but said he'd handle it on his own.

My little man, as I'd used to call him, was growing up so fast, and I desperately wanted the little Josh back for just a few hours. Funny how we don't really live in the moment, and then when the moment is gone, we wish we could have it back.

Jake and Emily walked in together, but Emily rushed upstairs to change and then left to meet her boyfriend, Mike for dinner. The two were practically attached at the hip, and considering the guys she'd dated in the past, I hoped it worked out.

I ate my salad while Jake and Josh talked politics, their newest and my least favorite subject, so when Mel texted, I welcomed the distraction.

"Any sign of the lepro-demon?" she asked.

I didn't have the energy to go into it all, so I lied and texted no.

"I talked to Aaron about the green theme."

"And?"

"And I'm going to kill him."

"Club soda will get his blood stains out of your clothes."

I watched the three dots on my phone and waited for her response to pop up.

"He was joking. Can you believe it? And he thought I knew it. All this time we've been planning this horrific St. Patrick's Day themed wedding, and he was kidding."

"Oh wow," I texted back. I'd thought he was serious, too.

"So, I told him I thought he was serious, and that we'd bought our dresses and paid an extra $500 for the green dye."

I laughed. "That's awesome."

"I know, right? He's on his way here now to apologize." She attached a laughing emoji face to the end of her message.

"You gonna tell him you were kidding?"

"Eventually."

"Priceless," I texted and sent an echo of laughing emoji faces to her.

"Gotta go, he just pulled up."

"Keep me posted."

I finished my salad, swallowed back my new supplements, and headed into the den to watch TV, feeling both of Jake's and Josh's eyes burning into my back as I walked.

I flipped through channels on the TV and settled on a mindless home improvement show, thinking about Mel's wedding. Before I realized it, I'd formed a list of things I wanted in my mind. I wanted to be healed. I wanted my mother back. I wanted no responsibility to the Universe. I wanted to feel whole again.

The next thing I knew, I was back with LuAnn Jacobs, feeling every kick she gave me, screaming for my mother to help. I'd had the same nightmare nearly every night for two months. When I woke up screaming in the chair, Jake was on his knees, his arms wrapped around me.

* * *

Mel and I met at Rendezvous Café and headed back to the dress shop to purchase our gowns. Since the green theme was out, we found me a light taupe colored sheath style with a similarly shaped top as her dress. We forked out the cash for both my dress and the one she'd placed on hold while laughing at Aaron's reaction to her joke.

"He felt so bad and so relieved," she said. "As if I'd actually buy a green wedding dress."

"Um, you almost did."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that."

"So, what's next?" We'd planned the whole day to work on wedding stuff, but Mel hadn't shown me her list.

"Flowers. I've already talked to two shops, Blossoming Arrangements and Your Friendly Florist. I just want to go by and check out some of their stuff. Their webpage photos are great, but they wouldn't put up anything that wasn't, right?"

I nodded, and as I put on my seatbelt, I ignored Mr. Green Suit in the back.

"Both of them are about the same price range, but I think my gut is saying Blossoming Arrangements is the one. Your Friendly Florist makes me feel like they might not be all that friendly."

"I agree. It's one of those if someone has to tell you to trust them, you probably shouldn't, kind of things."

She pointed her finger at me. "Exactly." She turned right onto the highway and headed south. "Let's hit them up first. I don't think we'll be there long, and I'm not going to tell them I've already talked to them."

"Can we use accents and pretend we're from another country?"

"You suck at accents," she said.

I stuck my tongue out at her. "I do not."

"You really do." She laughed, and then said, "But why not? Weddings are supposed to be fun, and I'm stressed, so let's do it." Her mouth flipped into a frown. "Wait. What if I decide to use them after all?"

"You're not that memorable; I wouldn't worry about it."

"Wow. Thanks for that."

I bit my lip. "I didn't mean it that way. I meant they've probably got a lot going on, so I don't think they'll pay attention if we're just there a few minutes."

"I thought my striking Asian looks were unforgettable."

"Well, if they do forget your looks, they won't forget your humility."

We bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and I just ignored the leprechaun taunting me in her backseat.

Inside, a tall, lanky-limbed woman with thick brown hair pulled up in a clip approached us in front of the first section of refrigerated arrangements.

"We just got our lilacs in this morning. They smell beautiful. Would you like me to take them out for you?"

Mel checked them out and smiled. "Ah, no thank you. We're just looking." The accent was either British, Australian or another country with a similar sound, I couldn't tell. I was horrible at both detecting and imitating accents.

The woman directed her attention to me. "How about you? Would you like me to take one out for you?"

"Nah, I'm fit as a fiddle," I said with an atrocious country accent. Any time I tried to fake one, no matter what I wanted to sound like, a bad country one came out. I couldn't even fake a Chicago accent, and I'd spent nearly half of my life there.

Mel coughed back a laugh, and I knew I'd hear about it later. "We're just looking at all the pretty flowers before an appointment. We don't want to take up any of your time."

The lady nodded. "Well then, enjoy." She walked back to the counter to cut stems.

We left a few minutes later.

"So, what'd you think?" I asked.

"I think you really suck at accents."

"I think you're right."

"The lilacs were pretty," she said.

"They were."

Mr. Green Suit popped into the back. "In Ireland, Ivy represents fidelity. She should incorporate that into her arrangements."

"So, now you're a wedding planner?"

"What?" Mel asked.

I flicked my thumb behind me. "Mr. Green Suit back there said in Ireland ivy represents fidelity."

She stiffened. "He's back?"

I nodded. "Don't worry though, and he's not here for you. He's here to drive me crazy."

"Well, at least that'll be a short trip."

"Rude."

Mr. Green Suit laughed, and I gave him the evil eye.

Mel laughed too. "Actually, I kind of like the ivy idea. Maybe Blossoming Arrangements will have some."

We parked in front of the store, and I told Mr. Green Suit to stay put. I didn't need a stalking leprechaun hanging around while Mel sniffed flowers.

The minute Mel walked into the shop, I knew she'd made her flower store choice. The floral scent immediately took over our noses, and the bright colors throughout the place teased our eyes. She moaned, and I watched her back relax.

One issue down, a million little wedding details to go.

"This is definitely it," she said as if I hadn't already figured that out.

When the shop's owner, Sandy something-I-couldn't-pronounce, said she could definitely make an arrangement featuring ivy and lavender, Mel squeaked. Sandy stepped back behind a closed door to throw together a sample while Mel scanned their floral book, and I shuffled around the store cradling my fractured ribs.

I saw a spirit hovering by the door to the back but ignored her.

She caught me glancing at her and floated over. "I'm Sandy's mother," she said.

"That's nice." I refused to make eye contact and kept shuffling.

"Would you mind giving my daughter a message for me? It's important."

I traced the petals of a pink rose with my fingertip. "I'm not really doing that anymore."

She positioned herself in front of me, and I couldn't help but acknowledge her trembling, transparent being. For just a millisecond I wanted to help, but I forced that feeling back and pretended it didn't exist.

Never again, I reminded myself.

"These photos are stunning," Mel said. "You gotta see them."

The spirit's eyes pleaded with me.

I glanced from Mel to the ghost and said, "Gimme a minute."

She went back to flipping pages in the book.

"I'm sorry, but I don't do that anymore." I rubbed my hands together and was surprised to feel sweat on my palms. "You'll have to find someone else to help you."

She straightened her shoulders and leaned in close to me. "I know what you've been through. We all know. Please, this isn't like that."

I shook my head. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Please. My daughter's life depends on this."

Most of them did.

Sandy yelled from behind the door. "I'll be just another minute."

My eyes shifted from the door to the ghost. "If you all knew, why didn't anyone help?"

She looked at the ground but didn't respond.

"Because the Universe wouldn't let you, right?"

Her chin quivered. "We aren't always able to do as we wish."

My jaw tensed. "I know because the Universe has rules, right? The thing is, I don't care about those rules anymore."

The sadness in her eyes tugged at my heart, and when she spoke, her voice shook. "Please. For her children."

My face betrayed me, and she saw it soften. "She needs to know she mustn't ignore the lump. There is still time, but she cannot wait."

I swallowed hard. My mother died of cancer, so of course, the Universe would use that to try and draw me back in. "Where is it?"

She pointed to her right breast.

I couldn't allow my anger to let this woman go on with cancer growing inside her. I didn't know if the Universe caused things like that, or why they happened, but I knew if I could help save her, I had to do it. I was angry with the Universe, but I wasn't heartless, and this wasn't either woman's fault. "Okay."

I walked back to the counter and scanned through the photos with Mel while we waited for Sandy to return. When she did, she carried the most beautiful bouquet I've ever seen.

Mel jumped in delight. "That is absolutely gorgeous." She clapped her hands like a toddler getting an ice cream cone. "I don't care what it costs, but I want something like that." She rattled off a list of I wants a mile long. "And ivy traveling down the sides of the aisle, and all over the arch. And that lavender, that's what I want in the boutonnieres, and…" She kept on for at least a whole two minutes.

I stared at Sandy and her mother floating behind her. Her mother placed her hand on her shoulder, and Sandy sighed. She knew, unconsciously maybe, but she knew.

"Mel," I placed my hand on hers. "Um, you know that thing I used to do that I don't do anymore?"

"Are you going to do that now?"

I nodded.

"That's great." She hugged me. "I knew you'd come around."

I hadn't come around, but I didn't want to get into it then. "Sandy, um, I know this is going to sound unbelievable, but I have a message from your mother."

She blinked but showed no signs of surprise or disbelief. After a few seconds, she simply nodded. "It's cancer, isn't it?"

I nodded. "But she said you still have time to fix it."

"Is she here now?"

"Yes. She's standing behind you. She was desperate for me to tell you."

Sandy clutched the side of her neck. "I knew. I just…I didn't want to admit it."

And that's when it hit me. "She died of breast cancer, didn't she?"

"Yes."

Her mother caught my eye. "I found my lump, and I knew it was cancer, too, but I chose to pretend nothing was wrong. Had I not, I might still be alive. My daughter has time. She can beat it, but she has to address it. Please, she needs to understand that, if not for herself, for my grandchildren."

"She says she shouldn't have waited, and she doesn't want you to make that same mistake. She wants you to do it for your kids if you can't do it for yourself."

Mel blubbered next to me.

Sandy nodded. "I will. Please, tell her I will."

"She can hear you."

Sandy's eyes glistened with tears and maybe even a little bit of hope. She glanced around the store searching for a glimpse of her mother. "I miss you so much, Mom."

Her mother smiled. "I will always be in her heart. Please tell her that." She tilted her head to the ceiling. "That lights for me, isn't it?"

"I believe so."

She kissed her daughter's cheek and then she shimmered away.

When Sandy rubbed her cheek, a tear slipped from my eye. "That was her kissing you before she left."

"Will she be back?"

"I don't know, but if so, I think you'll sense her." I'd lost all faith in how the Universe worked, but it wasn't my place to push my doubt on her.

She stood silent for a moment and then finally said, "If you'll give me a moment I'll be back to work on your order."

Mel choked back her tears. "Please, take all the time you need. We've got a few errands to run, so how about we come back later? Just go make an appointment with the doctor."

"Thank you. You don't know what this means to me." She hugged me.

I stiffened in her embrace. I'd never been much of a toucher with strangers, and after the incident, it was even harder. I pulled away. "You're welcome."

* * *

We'd barely made it outside, and Mel wrapped her arms around me, squeezing my already damaged body.

"Mel, my ribs."

She immediately released her death grip on my mid-section and begged for forgiveness. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I totally forgot. I got all caught up in the moment. I'm so proud of you. You did it."

"It was a one-off. The ghost had me at cancer." I sat in the passenger's seat and ignored Mr. Green Suit smiling behind me.

She started the car. "Em hmm." She went left out of the parking lot. "So, how did it feel?"

"It didn't feel like anything, really."

"Uh huh."

"Okay, yeah. It felt like an obligation, and like I needed to do it to honor my mom, but it didn't feel like it used to."

"I'm sure you'll get that feeling back eventually. The more you do it, the better it will be."

I had no intention of doing it even once, let alone enough to feel better about it, but I didn't want to argue. "Where we headed by the way?"

"To eat." She made a right into another strip mall parking lot. "We're taste-testing for the wedding and groom's cakes."

When I gave up sugar I promised Mel I'd still cake test with her, but the thought of anything sugary made my stomach ache.

I'd read that once the body stops receiving all the sugary foods, the taste palette changes, and sweets taste even sweeter. I hadn't tried anything sweet for two months and wondered if that's what would happen with the cake.

It did. The buttercream frosting on the first cake we sampled made my teeth ache and its sweetness so intense my stomach hurt. We had two samples to go, and I hoped I'd make it through them without hurling.

By the third piece, I definitely wanted to barf. I hoped it wasn't obvious.

"Which one do you like the best?" Mel asked.

She had a smudge of frosting on the corner of her mouth, so I made the swipe against mine. "You've got a little something on there."

I was stalling. I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't really favor any of them, that my taste for sugar was kaput. She just wouldn't understand, especially since we'd spent the majority of our friendship experiencing mutual foodgasms with various sugar-laden cupcakes and other teeth-rotting processed foods. "I think the white cake with buttercream frosting is my first choice." It tasted like a pound of straight sugar, but the others tasted like at least two pounds, so it was the best option.

She sampled another bite. "Um, I definitely agree." She pointed to the empty plate. "Definitely this one for the main cake." She asked for another sample of each of the other cakes. "What about for the groom's cake? I'm thinking the red velvet because Aaron loves red velvet cupcakes." She handed me another piece. "Here try it again."

I pushed her hand away. "I'm full but thank you."

The baker person whose name I never caught, coughed. "Is something wrong?"

"No, the cake is wonderful, really. I've just been sugar-free for a few months now, and I'm trying to stay that way." I preferred she think I had self-control issues instead of saying eating it would require a trip to the dentist.

She laughed. "Oh, you're one of those clean eaters like my husband. I've had to configure all kinds of clean, sugar substitute, vegan and gluten-free monstrosities for him now." She picked up the chocolate sample plate and presented it to Mel. "Would you like to try one of these?"

"Absolutely." She snatched two samples from the plate and stuffed them in her mouth. "My body runs on sugar." She swiped some buttercream frosting from the plate, too. "I think I'll go with my two original choices. If my friend here wants her own cake, she can order it herself."

The woman eyed me.

"No, I'm fine. Really."

Mel ordered the cakes while I roamed around the bakery feeling ill from the sugary brick in my stomach. I couldn't believe such small bites weighed so much in my gut. The old Angela would have asked for seconds, but the new me craved roasted Brussel sprouts.

I really had changed.

Just as I'd finished priding myself on my new eating habits, Mr. Green Suit popped up next to me. "Have you given my question any thought?"

"Not here," I mumbled.

I headed back to the counter and tapped Mel on the shoulder. "Can I have the keys? I need to, um…make a call in private."

Mel dug them from her purse, and off the leprechaun and I went.

I grabbed my phone from the seat, slammed the door and did what I'd always done when talking to a ghost in public. I held my phone to my ear and pretended to talk on it. "I have no intention of giving your question any thought, okay? And really, it's a little creepy having a leprechaun stalking me, so can you just stop?"

He walked next to me with that creepy smile plastered on his face, but he didn't say a thing.

I paced a short path along the sidewalk. "Just once I'd like things to be easy. Just once. Is that really too much to ask?"

Mr. Green Suit appeared in front of me. "What if I told you I could bring your mother back? Would you want that?"

I stood there for a moment and then dropped the F-Bomb just as Mel walked out of the bakery.

* * *

"Flowers, check. Cakes, check." Mel marked off to do list items in her notebook while we sat at Rendezvous Café.

Could he really bring my mother back? A leprechaun?

Mel waved her hand in front of my face. "Hello? You there?"

I shook myself out of stare mode. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Where were you? Because I've been talking, and I don't think you heard a word I said."

"I did. You said flowers, check, and cakes, check."

"Uh, yeah, ten minutes ago. I also said I wanted to do green table decorations."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed that."

She set her pencil on the table. "It's the leprechaun, isn't it?"

I pushed my lips together and nodded. "He said something to me, and I'm not sure what I think about it."

Mel straightened in her chair. "What did he say?"

"He asked me what I'd ask for if I could have anything."

"What did you tell him?"

"Basically, to bite me."

She rubbed her temples. "Of course, you did."

"That's not all."

"I didn't think it was."

"He said he could bring my mom back."

Her eyes widened. "Holy crap."

I sipped my black tea. "I know, right?"

"Do you think he really can?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. I don't even know if he's real, you know?"

"Maybe he's a ghost dressed as a leprechaun."

"I considered that, but he's so life-like. Even the ghosts that aren't transparent don't look at real as he does." I leaned in and whispered, "And he breathes."

"He breathes? Like real breath?"

"No, fake breath." The space at the top of my nose furrowed into the number eleven. "I'm assuming it's real breath, but who knows?"

"You could ask." She removed the lid from her drink and stirred the ice with her straw. "Seems like the easiest way to find out."

"I'm trying not to engage with him."

"Well, maybe you should. At least then you'll have some answers. And besides, don't you want to know if he can help you see Fran again?"

"There is that."

She slurped the caramel at the bottom of her cup. "Mm-Hmm."

I rubbed my temples. "I just want a normal life. Is that really too much to ask?"

"It appears so."

A man in black pants and a blue tee shirt walking up to the café's entrance caught my eye. We made eye contact, and I straightened in my seat. He slowed his speed, and then glanced away as he walked through the door. I shifted in my seat to watch him enter the café.

Mel coughed. "You're not listening again, are you?"

I swiveled her direction. "I am now."

She tapped her fingers on the table and stared at me.

"What?"

"I'm just waiting for you to answer my question."

Oh. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes." I had a feeling that wasn't the right answer.

"It wasn't a yes or no question."

I laid my forearms on the table and leaned toward her. "I'm sorry."

"I said, maybe he's a figment of your imagination. Like your subconscious trying to tell you something."

"Because an Italian, German woman would have a leprechaun to represent her subconscious?"

"It just went with the theme of the moment. We were in the throes of green dress hell, so maybe it just figured it was something you could relate to?"

"I don't think so."

She leaned back in her seat. "Well then, I got nothing."

"Yeah, right there with you."

The same man walked out of the café, and as he walked by, we made eye contact once again.

Mel shook her cup of ice to get my attention. "What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're giving that poor guy the evil eye. He probably has to go home and take meds to deaden the migraine you gave him."

I giggled. "I didn't do any such thing. I just made sure he knew I saw him, that I was paying attention."

"Trust me; everyone knows you're paying attention. You've mastered the resting biatch face for sure."

I didn't have a problem with that. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment." She stood and switched to the chair next to me. "Listen, I know you're struggling, and I totally get that, but you can't go on like this. You have to do something."

I intended to do what I'd just done to that man. "I am doing something."

"Living in fear isn't doing something. Not everyone in the world wants to kill you."

"I'm not living in fear, and I don't think everyone in the world wants to kill me."

"Well, your actions say something different."

"I'm acting aware of my surroundings, and there's nothing wrong with that." I relaxed the tension pushing on my ribcage. I'd made it through most of the day without any sharp pains, and I didn't want them to start. "Ask your fiancé. He'll tell you the same thing."

"He's a cop. He has to say that, but it doesn't mean it's true all the time. You really need to find a way to get over this."

And there it was again.

I glanced at my iWatch, another gift from Jake after the incident. "Oh, look. It's time for me to go." I stood and gathered my things.

"Ang, wait. Don't leave mad."

I dropped back into the chair. "I'm not mad. I'm just tired of being told I have to get over what happened. You can't possibly understand what I'm going through or why I feel the way I do, so please stop acting like you do."

She blinked. "Okay. You're right, but you won't talk about it, so how am I supposed to understand? Explain it to me."

"It's not something I can explain, but please, stop telling me to get over it. I am over it, but it changed me. The Angela you knew is gone. This is me now, take me or leave me." We stared at each other for a moment and then I stood again. "I need to go."

Mel jumped from her chair. "Ang, wait. I…I…" She hugged me. "I'm sorry. I just wish I could do something, anything, to make you feel better."

I held her shoulders. "I don't need you to fix me." I tear fell from her left eye, and I wiped it away. "I need you to be my best friend again."

"I've never stopped."

Sometimes it didn't feel that way.

* * *

Mr. Green Suit hung out in the passenger's seat. "Tick tock. Tick tock."

I upped the volume on my radio and sung along to Brooks and Dunn.

"The offer won't last long."

I twisted the volume knob all the way to the right, and Mr. Green Suit disappeared.

When I got home, Aaron and Josh were in the driveway.

I pulled around them and into the garage, and then met them outside. "What brings you here?"

"Green dye? Nice one."

"You deserved it. She'd practically planned the whole ridiculous theme only to find out it was a joke?" I winked at him. "That's cause for canceling the whole thing if you ask me."

"Thankfully, no one did."

"Get wrecked," Josh said.

Aaron laughed.

"You don't even know what that means," I said.

"I used my detective skills and figured out it means I roasted you."

Josh shook his head. "No one says roasted anymore."

I pointed at Aaron. "Get wrecked."

He stretched out his arms. "I came here to check on you not get a verbal beating. That hurts."

I crooked my finger. "Come on in. I think Jake's got a beer or two in the ‘fridge."

"Thanks, I'd love one."

Josh hung outside. "Nice seeing you Detective Banner. Mom, Turner's picking me up, and we're going to practice."

"Gotcha." It freaked me out that my baby's friends were old enough to drive.

Aaron sat at the kitchen counter while I grabbed him a beer and me a flavored water.

I slid the beer can across the counter. "So, what's up?"

He popped the top and took a swig. "Not much, just wanted to come by and check on you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Mel asked you to come by, didn't she?"

"Nope." His lip didn't twitch, and he didn't blink, so he wasn't lying.

"Hmm. If you're here for a case, you know I'm not doing that anymore."

He smiled. "I'm not here about a case. Can't a guy just check on his friend?"

Aaron and I were friends, and I appreciated his concern, but he wasn't the kind of guy that just ambled over for a beer and a chat. At least not with me. "Is something wrong between you and Mel?"

His eyes widened. "What? No. Why? Do you know something I don't?"

I shook my head. "Not a thing." I poured my water over a glass full of ice. "But you're here for a reason, so come on, tell me."

He clasped his beer can with both hands. "My department is assisting the Georgia Bureau of Investigations on a human trafficking case."

"Price. Damn it. He promised."

Aaron nodded. "If it means anything, it wasn't on purpose."

I ran my hand through my hair. "I'm sure." The snark in my tone surprised both of us.

"Price isn't the kind of guy to betray a confidence, and you know that."

"So, what was it then? Verbal diarrhea? It just accidentally spewed from his mouth? Oh, Banner, that Angela is whacked. She needs help. Something like that?"

I watched Aaron's chest rise and fall, but he didn't have a right to be frustrated. I owned that. "Actually, he said your strength, both emotionally and physically, amazes him." He let the words float through the air for a moment. "But he wishes you'd dial it down a bit."

I didn't know what to say. "He really said that?"

He nodded. "Told me you've got a solid kick."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "Poor guy. I felt kind of bad about that."

Aaron chuckled. "Liar."

"Maybe a little."

"He did ask me to talk to you though. Said you need time to heal."

"You're not here to talk about my physical recovery though, are you?"

His chest heaved again. "I ever tell you about Jimmy Bellam?"

"Who's Jimmy Bellam?"

"A twenty-five-year-old husband and father down on his luck. Robbed a QuikTrip seven years ago and took off into the woods. Found him down in an abandoned trailer about two blocks from the station. He came at me, and we fought. He got free and pulled his gun, but I pulled faster." He dragged his fingers down his goatee. "His son was four months old."

I twisted the charm on my necklace, my heart sad for my friend. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He dipped his head. "Not something I like to talk about. I know it's different, but I have a sense of what you're feeling, so…"

"Thank you."

He nodded again. "So, promise me something."

"Okay?"

"Promise me you and my fiancé aren't going to show up at the ceremony in green dresses."

I laughed. "You are so lucky we didn't buy anything. That saleswoman had some truly horrific shades of green in her store."

"People actually buy green dresses?"

"I know, right? Granted, there were some beautiful shades of green there, but apparently, none of those matched my skin color because she didn't show me any of them. But the racks were a virtual rainbow of dresses." Something inside me caught what I said and tucked it away for later. "Every color you could imagine."

"I seriously thought she knew I was kidding."

"She wanted to please you. She's been down this road before, and she thinks, since you haven't, you should have the wedding you deserve." I refilled my empty glass.

"That's what she doesn't understand. She's never been down this road with me. It's our wedding, not hers."

My heart skipped a beat for my best friend. "Aw, you're a big sucker for her, aren't you?"

He winked. "Don't tell her. I don't want to ruin my rep."

"Your secret's safe with me."

Aaron finished his beer. "It gets easier."

We weren't discussing the wedding anymore. "When?"

He shrugged. "In time. But you'll never be the person you used to be."

"I don't want to be."

"I know."

I offered him another beer, but he declined. "I need to run. We're addressing invitations. Mel's mother doesn't want her to use labels, so we have to write them all by hand." He dragged his hand down his goatee again. "All sixty of them."

"Proper wedding etiquette is important. Old school, but important." I smiled. "I had three hundred people at my wedding."

"Jesus. That's a lot of envelopes."

"Don't forget the thank you cards. Those're coming soon."

His hand went back to his goatee again. Poor guy was out of his element. He walked to my side of the counter and hugged me, not a strong manly hug, but a gentle, affectionate one. "When you feel like talking, I'm here."

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. "Thank you."

* * *

I poured myself a glass of red wine and sat on my deck. I did my best thinking there, and before being grounded from visiting, where I'd chat with my mother.

I first discovered my gift after my mother died and came back in spirit form. At first, I thought I'd imagined her, but she confessed she'd known about my gift when I was a kid and had chosen to let it fade to black. She wanted me to have a normal life, and I understood. I struggled to accept it, but when I finally did, I rocked it. It hadn't destroyed my family like I feared, and my fifteen minutes of fame publicly ended up only about five minutes. I loved working with Aaron…loved helping spirits with their unfinished business.

I still wanted to help them. It wasn't about them, really. I just didn't want to do the Universe any favors. Their rules no longer applied to me, at least that's how I felt about them.

Helping Sandy and her mother felt good, even though I played it off differently to Mel. Helping them though, was what the Universe expected of me, and I hated doing what it wanted. My choices were limited. I could help and feel like I'd betrayed myself, or not help, and be pond scum.

Not the best choices.

I glanced toward  the fading sun. "What would you do, Ma?"

I heard her voice inside my head. "Well, for one thing, I wouldn't stare at the sun because I don't wanna end up blind."

I laughed. "You would have said something like that, wouldn't you?"

God, I missed her.

What if Mr. Green Suit could really give me back my mother? I searched leprechauns on Google, and what I discovered wasn't good. I knew the little boogers were mischievous, but according to folklore, they offered three wishes to humans who trapped them. The problem was, those wishes often came with consequences.

I hadn't trapped Mr. Green Suit, and he'd only given me one wish.  Though technically it was something I wished for, I hadn't done so with him. He’d just offered. So, his leprechaun-ness didn't match up to folklore, and that piqued my curiosity. A lot.

I sent Mel a text. "Did you know leprechauns grant wishes to humans?"

Her response came in seconds. "Did you know they're not real?"

"I'm talking about in folklore."

"Stop googling. It always gets me in trouble when you do."

She had a point, but I ignored it. "I'm educating myself. I can't get to the bottom of this without knowledge."

"And everything you read on the Internet is true, right?"

Sometimes Mel was like my kids, using my words against me. "You googled them first."

"That's different. You're the smart, calm friend in this relationship. I'm the crazy, paranoid one."

"There is that," I added a laughing emoji. "Here's the thing though. They grant wishes when a human has them trapped, so they can be released. Three wishes."

"Are you trapping creepy little men in green suits and not telling me? That's a sick fetish. I kinda like it."

"Trust me; if you could see this guy, you wouldn't. Seriously though, none of what's going on fits the folklore."

"Because leprechauns aren't real."

I thought about that for a second. "I think you're right."

"???"

I needed to spend more time thinking about things, and I knew Aaron was there, so I told her I'd fill her in later.

Jake came out and hung with me on the deck. I hadn't told him about Mr. Green Suit, so I gave him the run down. The beer can almost made it to his lips, but he froze. "A leprechaun?" The can finally made it to his mouth.

"Sounds ridiculous, I know."

"Babe, over the past few years I've realized when it comes to you, nothing is ridiculous."

"Aw, I think that was a compliment, so, thank you."

He winked. "You're welcome."

"The thing is, he's not following folklore, so I'm not sure what to think." I explained what I'd read, and what Mr. Green Suit was doing.

"So, he hasn't asked you for three wishes?"

"Nope."

"And I'm pretty sure I know the answer to this, but just in case, you don't have him trapped in a bottle or anything, right?"

"Genie's get trapped in bottles. I don't know how leprechauns are trapped, actually."

He nodded. "Well, seems you might have an imposter on your hands."

I leaned forward and nodded. "Exactly. So, now I've got to figure out how to out him."

Jake leaned toward me and smiled. "That's my girl." He kissed my forehead. "Glad to see that sparkle in your eye again. I've missed it."

I kissed his lips. They were soft and mushy, just how I loved them. "You always make my eyes sparkle." I kissed him again, that time, deeper. "And make other parts of my body do things, too."

A slow smile spread across his face. "I'd like to do some of that now."

I took the beer can from his hand, placed it on the fire pit and then stood. I grabbed his hand. "I'd like you to, too."

It was his eyes that sparkled next. "Hmm."

I led him to the door. "Just watch my ribs."

"I'll be gentle."

"That's just how I love it."

And he was. And I loved it.

* * *

I spent the next day at Mel's, counting out hundreds of green M&Ms® and stuffing them into little pink silk bags. "How many more of these do we have to make?"

"I sent out two hundred invitations this morning, and based on my estimate, probably about two hundred."

"Two hundred invites? Aaron said you had sixty."

She smirked. "He had sixty. I did the other hundred and forty. You gotta be literal when you talk to men, you know?"

I laughed. "Good point." I pulled the string tabs on another bag. "You sent those out kind of late though, considering the wedding is in two weeks. Come to think of it; you're a little behind on everything."

She tied a pink ribbon around the top of a bag. "I'm not late; I'm efficient. Besides, I'm secretly hoping most of the people can't make it."

I snorted. "What? Why?"

She set down the bag and looked me in the eye. "You know my mother. She gave me a list of relatives and friends I've never met. I don't want those people at my wedding, so I'm hoping with such late notice, they won't be able to make it."

I raised my eyebrows. "Ah, you're not only pretty, but you're also smart, too."

"Obviously. Only my mother's smarter. She's already called and emailed the details to everyone on the list two days after I told her the date and location."

"You come by your deviousness naturally."

"Unfortunately." She moved the box full of table treat bags aside and cut more ribbon. "God." She dropped the ribbon and scissors. "I'm getting married in two weeks. Can you believe it?"

"You're going to be Mrs. Detective Aaron Banner. Is that how you say it?"

"I don't know, but it sounds freaking awesome."

"It does, doesn't it?" I brought an M&M up to my mouth out of habit but threw it in the bag before it made it inside. "You deserve happiness, and you definitely got a keeper this time."

"I'm the luckiest woman alive."

My mind went back to the night before and lying in Jake's arms after making love. The soft passion, his gentle touch, his sultry voice, and how he got up afterward to let Gracie out so I could stay in bed. "Me, too."

Mel held my hands. "I'm so lucky to have you as my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you." She squeezed my hands. "I'm sorry I upset you yesterday. You know I love you."

"Don't worry about it. We're good. We'll always be good." I meant that, too. Mel and I were in it for the long haul, and I wanted her to know that. "We're not always going to agree, but that's okay. That's what family does, and you're family to me. That's why I can be pissed off at you one minute and laughing with you the next. That's not going to change, I promise."

Her eyes glistened with tears, and she wiped them away. "God, look at me. I'm an emotional wreck. This damn wedding is making me a blubber head."

"Um, don't blame the wedding. You've always been a blubber head."

We laughed, and she tugged at her long ponytail. "Truth."

Mr. Green Suit popped in behind her, smiling.

I tried to ignore him, but he did some funky hopping dance thing like a square dancer, and I just couldn't.

Mel twisted around, and then back to me. "Who's there? Mr. Green Suit?"

I nodded.

"In my house? Seriously? Can you make him go away?"

"What do you want me to do, wiggle my nose, and he'll just disappear?"

"If it works."

"Tick tock. Tick tock," Mr. Green Suit said.

Good grief. "What's with the tick-tock crap? Am I on a deadline or something?"

He tapped his wrist like he'd actually had a watch on it.

I jumped up, and pain seared through my abdomen. I clutched my waist, breathed in deeply and waited for the pain to pass.

Mel was up in a second. "You need to sit." She helped me back to the floor and flipped around, her index finger wiggling at Mr. Green Suit like she could see him. "You need to leave. Can't you see she's in pain? I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you're not going to do it at my house. You're not invited here."

Mr. Green Suit raised his eyebrow at me. "She's feisty, isn't she?"

I bit my lip. I knew if I said anything she'd want to know what he'd said and then she'd get all angry Mel at him. I didn't want Angry Mel taking her pre-wedding stress out on the leprechaun because I didn't know what kind of retribution that could cause. I held her arm. "It's okay. It's time I figure out what's going on anyway."

Mr. Green Suit tapped his wrist again.

"Please do. I do not want this thing at my wedding." She stared at an empty space in her family room. "Even if I can't see him."

I moved over to the couch because talking to a leprechaun from the floor just didn't seem right. "So, what about my other two wishes?"

His head tilted. "There are no wishes. Just a simple question."

"Really? Because folklore says I should have three wishes, so what do you say to that?"

He chuckled. "You do understand that folklore is just a fancy word for myth, right?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Says the leprechaun standing in my best friend's family room."

He nodded. "Point taken. However, folklore, as it's defined, is stories and beliefs passed from generation to generation and usually by word of mouth. Much like the game telephone, folklore, over time, has changed the duties of my kind."

When he put it that way, it kind of made sense. At least in an, I can't believe I'm talking to a leprechaun, but I am, kind of way. "Okay, so you only want to grant me the one wish." I nodded. "Why?"

"As I said, it is not a wish. It is a question. What if I told you I could bring your mother back? Would you want that?"

"Okay, so, technically it's two questions." That was petty, but I didn't care. He was a touch on the snooty side and brought the same out of me. "But there's got to be a catch, so spill it."

He shook his head. "No catch, just possibilities."

"What's he saying?" Mel asked.

"Not a whole heck of a lot." I reiterated the brief back and forth.

"He's playing you."

"That's what I'm thinking."

"I'm not playing you, nor am I planning to trick you. If you'll notice, I haven't even offered to bring your mother back."

Dang. He was right. He'd only proposed a what if, not promised anything. "Okay, you're right. You didn't actually offer, I just assumed."

"And we all know what assuming does." He smirked, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

"Well, Mr. Obvious, of course, I want my mother back. If you knew anything about me or what's going on, you'd know that already. So, what's the point of this?"

"Let me make sure I'm clear. You're saying that if I could bring your mother, Fran Richter, back, you would want me to, correct?"

I didn't trust him. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying I want my mother back, but not if that means you're going to do something sneaky or trick me somehow."

"And if my intentions are honest?"

I sat on the edge of the couch. "How am I supposed to know that? I mean, I don't even believe in you, so how am I supposed to trust you?"

"That is a risk you must be willing to take."

"Yeah, well, the Universe has screwed me before, so…"

"You need time to think about it. I understand." He pointed to his wrist again. "But your time is running out." He smiled and then disappeared.

I glanced at Mel. "I hate him."

She finished tying a pink ribbon around the last bag. "What's going on? I don't get it."

"You and me both." I filled her in on the rest of the conversation.

She nodded. "Oh my gosh, he's here to test you. See how bad you want her back. He's offering your mom, and when you tell him yes you want her, he's going to make you do something, and if you do, you'll get her back." She leaned back on her hands and straightened her legs in front of her. "The Universe wants back in your good graces, and they're using a leprechaun to grab you because they know you're not all that into ghosts right now."

And that right there was exactly what best friends were for. "I think you're right. He's a plant. The Universe wants to see what my mother is worth to me."

"That's what I'm thinking. Like hey, we'll give you Fran back if you do things our way."

My eyes darted to the corners of the room. "Well, he's gone now, so I think they got the message."

Mel climbed onto the couch and pulled her legs to her chest. "Are you sure that's the message you want to give?"

"It's the real message, so, yeah."

She pushed a runaway hair from my face. "But what if Fran really can come back, and you're not agreeing stops that from happening?"

I sighed. "Then that's total B.S. Seriously, how should my decisions impact my mother's, eh…future or whatever it is? Really, that's a crap ton of not fair, don't you think?"

"When has any of this ever been fair?"

I dropped my head onto the back of the couch. "I hate this. I don't want to do things their way. Their way almost got me killed."

"Okay, I'm going to say this, and I know you're not going to like it, but I don't care. You're not allowed to be mad at the bride weeks before her wedding anyway."

"Really? Because no one ever gets mad at the bride before the wedding?"

"Whatever, you're just not allowed. Hear me out, okay?"

I nodded.

"The truth is, you didn't die that day. Don't you think the Universe might have had something to do with that?"

Ugh. Why did she have to go there? I'd focused so hard on not going there for the past two months, and there she goes, right to it. "That's not the point."

She nodded while she spoke. "It is absolutely the point, and it's a huge point. They wanted you to learn something, and once you figure out what that is, I think you'll feel differently about all of this."

"What could they possibly have wanted me to learn? That my mother could be pulled from me at any given moment? Okay, check. Learned that the day she was diagnosed with cancer. Or, wait. Maybe they wanted me to learn that I could be taken at any given moment? Yeah, check on that one, too." A vein on the bridge of my nose pulsed.

"Maybe they wanted you to learn to make smarter choices?"

I stared at her.

"Like maybe not rushing off to confront a killer, or at least learning how to use a gun or defend yourself if you do?"

Huh. If that was the case, it worked.

"Maybe they wanted you to see you're stronger than you think, and with a little less spontaneity and with some extra help, you've got this killer catching thing down."

I lowered my eyes. "Maybe, but what if—"

She held up her hand. "I don't think there needs to be a but here. I think you need to find Mr. Green Suit guy and put it all out there. My guess is he's not a real leprechaun, but a means of communication the Universe thought you'd listen to, maybe negotiate with."

"Yeah, because I'm the kind of woman that'll hang with folklore characters."

"Because you're the kind of woman that knows anything is possible."

I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm supposed to be the smart one in this friendship. You're the pretty one."

"Actually, I'm both." She kissed the top of my head. "But, you're beautiful to me."

"Which means I'm not the smart one then?"

"Maybe, just not in this case."

"Nice try."

We both laughed.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think you're probably right, but I'm going to sit on it for a bit."

She stood. "Works for me. We've got a boatload of wedding crap to do now anyway, so let's get ‘er done."

I toppled over, face down on the couch cushion. "But I'm not smart enough to do wedding stuff."

She extended her hand. "Don't worry; I'll teach you everything I know."

Three hours later we'd called everyone on the invite list to apologize for the late invitations and asked who would be attending. Mel's mother insisted on the calls, having figured out the reason behind Mel sending the invites out so late. And she thought she was the smart one.

"I never realized your family is so Asian," I said as I disconnected the last call.

"Wow, put that on Twitter and see what kind of response you get."

I laughed. "You know what I mean; they speak Filipino and everything."

"Uh, that's because most of them were born in the Philippines."

"I need a shovel to dig an even deeper hole to crawl in to, don't I?"

She waved her hand. "Only big enough for the two of us. I've grown up with these people, and I can barely understand a word they say. And I speak the language."

"You know I struggle with accents, and they speak so fast, I feel like I'm on the phone with my cable provider's call center, but it's in Asia."

"I know. I tell them to slow down all the time."

"Now I know why you get the way you do when you're angry," I said and winked at her.

"When you meet them at the wedding, you'll see it's easier to understand them face to face. They're great people. Especially my cousin Boy Boy. He's a trip."

"You have a cousin named Boy Boy?"

She nodded. "Actually, his name is Arvin, but nobody calls him that. We all call him Boy Boy."

"I'm not sure which is worse."

"Trust me, Arvin is worse. Everyone has these stupid names. It's like a thing there. My other cousin is Pinky, and my aunt is La La."

"Do you have one?"

She ignored me.

"Come on, what is it?"

"Oh no. No way am I telling you. I'll never live it down."

I blanched. "As if I'd make fun of your culture. I can't believe you'd think that of me."

"You would totally make fun of my culture. Heck, I make fun of it."

"What if I promise not to say a thing?"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Stop it," Mel said. "I'm not falling for it."

"Come on, pretty please? With sugar on top? And you know I've given sugar up, so that's gotta mean something."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Never."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but this stays between us, okay?"

I nodded.

"Not that it's not going to come out at the wedding anyway. Gawd. I should elope."

"Tell me, dammit!"

"Bum Bum. My name is Bum Bum okay? Now, can we just drop it?"

I busted out laughing. "Oh my God, do you know how many jokes I can make with that, Bum Bum?"

She grabbed a pillow off the loveseat and threw it at me. "Knock it off, Panther. Remember, I know secrets about you."

There was that. "Fine." I choked out the fine because I was laughing.

She twisted her ponytail around her hand. "I'm glad they're coming. I'm just so not interested in having a big wedding."

"Remember, more guests means more gifts."

"More gifts means more clutter or trips to return stuff."

"Yeah, there is that." I piddled with my list of names. "What're we doing next?"

"I think that's it for now. You need to go home anyway. Have a chat with the pointy-eared dude and go from there."

I whined. "Oh, fine."

We hugged, and I told her I'd catch up with her after my convo with Mr. Green Suit.

* * *

Scott Price waited for me outside the studio, but he wasn't alone.

"Yeah, I heard you can't keep a secret," I said to Price as I hugged him.

Aaron laughed. "Police first, friends second in this kind of thing."

"Em hmm."

We threw our stuff on the chairs, and I excused myself to wrap my midsection. I didn't want to do that in front of my best friend's fiancé.

Aaron handed me a box when I returned. "Merry Christmas."

"It's almost March."

"Okay, then consider it a wedding party gift. Just open it."

I opened the black box and cringed when I saw the ugly amulet looking thing. "What is this?"

"It's a punch knife. Attaches to your belt and pulls out like this." He removed it from the box and showed me how it worked. "So, the point is to do your best to keep your distance from an attacker, and most importantly, stay upright. If you've got the ability, you can pull this out and use it in their gut or wherever you can reach."

The thought of that made my stomach hurt.

"Here, we're going to show you, and then you can practice on us."

"With the knife?"

Price laughed. "You can practice with it on Banner, but not me."

"I'm marrying her best friend. She's not allowed to stab me before the wedding."

Price raised an eyebrow. "Well, I did initially want to go out with your cutie fiancé, so maybe we ought to make this as realistic as possible?"

Aaron flipped him off. "Mel's too much for you, Price. Trust me."

"Good grief. Mel's too much for either of you. Aaron just got lucky." I waved my hand toward the mat. "Either of you going to show me how to kick some ass or what?"

They did. It took them ten minutes to get serious, but when they finally did, I watched like a hawk, guessing their next moves and paying attention to foot placement. When it was my turn, we used a coaster for a knife, which didn't have the same effect I would have liked, but it did the job for training purposes.

I went through different drills with both of them, and though it was awkward at first with Aaron, it ended up being a good thing. He was polite, asking me if he could touch me—about one hundred times—and I finally told him to stop treating me like a stranger and do what he needed to do.

A punch knife was an effective tool for self-defense, and I understood why Aaron and Price both wanted me to have it, but I wasn't sure it would work for me. "The problem with this thing," I held it up as I spoke. "is that it has to be hooked to a belt. I don't typically wear belts."

Price showed me how to attach it to the waistband of my clothing, but I wasn't sure it would stay there.

"Every time I've seen you, you're in jeans," Aaron said. "or workout clothes. What would you wear that it might not attach to?"

"Leggings, a skirt, a sundress."

He laughed.

"What?"

"I've never once seen you in a sundress."

He had a point. "Well, you definitely will now."

Price chuckled. "You can attach it to a lanyard and pull it from there if you're wearing something else."

"Yeah." I wiggled the knife in front of his face. "Because this is such a fabulous jewelry accessory."

"An accessory that could save your life," Aaron said.

"Good point. I'll get a lanyard just in case."

We spent another hour working on tripping, pushing, choke holds and my regular punching and kicking exercises. I wasn't at one hundred percent, but I did better than I thought I would and was surprised my ribs hurt less than last time.

"You look like you're feeling better," Price said. "Let's not overdo it, though." He grabbed a bottled water from the ‘fridge by the front desk and handed it to me. "Here, drink this."

I guzzled it down.

"We'll pick this up next week as planned, okay?" He smiled at Aaron. "You're welcome back too unless you've got wedding stuff going on. Like addressing envelopes or something."

I giggled.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "I'll see if I can make it. Now that I've seen what you're doing to my friend and how she's handling it, I feel better about her working with you." He paused. "At least, for now."

Price nodded. "Good to know."

"I'm outta here," I said. "I've got some things to take care of that don't include punch knives or kicking, so…" I held up the knife to Aaron. "Thanks for this. How much do I owe you?"

"We're good."

"Okay then." I didn't bother unwrapping my abs and just grabbed my bag, said goodbye and left.

Instead of driving home, I headed to Fowler Park, a county parks and recreation facility with a walking path through the woods. I needed to get out in the fresh air—fresh pollen saturated air because spring in Georgia was like that—and have a heart to heart with myself.

Whether I wanted to or not.

I unwrapped my ribcage in the park's parking lot and stuffed the wrap into my bag. The park was all but empty, which I figured would be the case, so, I knew I'd be able to walk in peace. I hit the path and thought about bumping my pace to a slow jog, but I hadn't even walked like this since the incident, and I didn't want to push myself more than I already had. Feeling better was a great motivator to cut myself some slack. My eyes itched from the pollen, and my sinuses did whatever it was sinuses do when pollen attacked. I chided myself for not starting my allergy pills already.

"Okay, Universe. If what Mel said is true, then fine. I'm willing to talk."

Mr. Green Suit popped up in front of me, smiling from ear to ear.

I nodded. "Yeah, I figured you'd show up." I walked past him, and he set in beside me. "So, I guess leprechauns aren't real then, huh?"

"Folklore and myths all have a basis in reality, but as I said, they're much like that game, telephone. Over time they take on a life of their own."

"So, what's the deal here? What do I have to do for my mother to be allowed back?"

"Your mother isn't  allowed back, Angela."

My mouth dropped open. "Uh, you're wrong. I was flat out told she'd been grounded. The day of the incident."

Mr. Green Suit nodded. "Matthew Clough."

"Yes, he actually came and helped me that day, but he even said he wasn't supposed to be there." Matthew Clough was a sweet little boy that died too soon at the hands of his nanny. We'd developed a special relationship, and he was there for me when I almost died.

The leprechaun/not leprechaun, or whatever he really was, just smiled.

The lightbulb over my head went off. "This isn't about my mother at all, is it?"

He stared at me.

"But I did apologize. I did acknowledge—" I stopped myself. I had apologized, but for pushing my mother to help me when the Universe had rules and didn't want her breaking them, but that wasn't the issue. She wasn't grounded. I was. "Mel's right, isn't she? This isn't about my mother at all. It's about what I did. The Universe is teaching me a lesson, isn't it?" My speed increased, and my ribs sent me a message to slow down.

Mr. Green Suit placed his hand on my shoulder. His warm, alive hand. "We need you, Angela. You have a special gift, one very few share, and you're destined to do great things with it."

We.

"Then can't you just let me do what I do?"

"I wish we could, but there is so much you don't know, so much you wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"There is both good and evil in the universe, Angela."

"Yeah, and it's my understanding you've got that handled."

"It's your assumption, not understanding. The truth is, you've placed everything into one compartment, and that's not how things work. Your universe, as you call it, is only one portion of two very separate, and very independent entities, and we can only control our actions."

"You mean like a devil and God?"

"How we are defined varies, but yes, some see us that way. We like to call it good and evil."

I had always believed in balance, that to have good, there had to be evil, and if Heaven existed, then so did Hell. I just didn't think it applied to my gift or the risks it included. "So, what exactly are you saying?"

"We're fighting a battle, and we can't always determine the outcome."

My heart raced. I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "So, I could have died that day? Is what you're saying?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exact—what the hell does that even mean?"

"There is always the possibility of death, Angela. People die every day."

"Get to the point, Green Suit." His vagueness exploded my patience into tiny bits of nothingness. "I'm over your BS half answers."

"We needed you to see the seriousness of your actions so you could understand those risks, understand what you're up against."

"So, that's why you stopped my mother from helping?"

He nodded again, but I needed more than that. I threw my hands into the air. "So, you would have been okay if I'd died? Is that it?" I sped up, injured body be damned. "That is complete bullshit. You expect me to help you now?" I raced in front of him and then flipped around. "Over my dead body." I laughed at the irony of that statement. "Y'all can go screw yourselves for all I care."

He appeared in front of me again. "We knew another soul would intervene, and we knew that soul would have the strength to save you."

"But Matthew said he wasn't supposed to be there either."

"Matthew wasn't grounded, however; he did see the importance of allowing you to understand the risk. When he felt you were in real danger, he intervened."

"And thank God he did, because otherwise you would have just let me die."

"We realize your value, Angela, and we don't plan to let anything happen to you, but as I said, we cannot control everything."

"Yes, I get that. You set me up to get my ass kicked, ground my one guardian angel that could and would save me from doing just that, and hedged your bets that a six-year-old dead kid would come to my rescue. Thanks for caring, but I'd rather count on strangers than any of your kind." I kept moving, ignoring him next to me.

We hit a split in the path, and I stopped. My ribs hurt, my lungs ached, and I just wanted to roll up in a ball and cry. I felt betrayed, angry and hurt. I didn't understand how they could put me at risk like that.

"We didn't," Mr. Green Suit said.

I stared at him. "You didn't what?"

"We didn't put you at risk. We allowed you to—"

I held out my hand and interrupted him. "Hold on; I didn't say that out loud. Get out of my head."

He smiled. "As I was saying, we allowed you to choose your actions, and we monitored them, knowing things ultimately would work out."

I shook my head. "I don't see it that way at all."

He waved his hand at the split in the path. "We are here, and now you must decide."

"Decide what? If I want to see my mother again? Of course, I want to see my mother again, but this is a lose/lose deal for me, and you know that."

"You are wrong. You are a different person now, and you understand the seriousness of your gift. You are preparing yourself, and you have grown. That is what we wanted, but we knew you had to get there on your own."

"Good God, even my daughter isn't as manipulative as you."

"It is a gift," he said and laughed.

I didn't find it all that funny. "So, what do you even want from me? To play by your rules? To do things your way? To follow your commands like a trained dog? Because yeah, I'm not sure that works for me."

"You're never without freedom of choice, Angela, but with that choice comes greater risk, and you must understand that."

I pressed my lips together and stared at the path below me. "Okay, so, you just want me back then, right? You want me to say I'm willing to be your, your whatever…your go-to girl again, and I can have Fran back? Is that it?"

He nodded. "She is already back. She'd simply chosen to keep quiet until you understood."

"I don't believe you." Real leprechaun or not, I didn't trust Mr. Green Suit. I was too angry to.

"Very well." He flicked his hand in the air.

I watched as a cloud of smoke covered him, and then I heard a familiar cough. "Ah, Madone, you're a real pain in the butt, you know that?"

The smoke cleared, and my mother stood where Mr. Green Suit had been.

I tumbled back a step. "Ma?"

"You betcha. Now, you gonna get back on the horse or do I gotta find another way to get you in line?"

I lowered myself to the ground, my head a mess of confusion. "I don't…I don't understand."

"Pretty nifty disguise, dontcha think? I gotta tell ya, I didn't I think I could pull it off, but I sure did." She laughed.

"You were Mr. Green Suit?"

She smiled. "It was Buddy's idea. I wanted to be a mafia gangster, but he said you'd figure that out in a heartbeat."

Buddy was my mother's fiancé when I was a teenager. He'd died before they had a chance to marry but hooked up again in the afterlife.

I was completely lost. "So, wait. You're telling me you dressed up as a leprechaun—one that felt like a real person, by the way—all to get me to understand my gift is dangerous? Why couldn't you just tell me?"

"When was the last time you listened to your mother?"

"I always listened to you, at least when I grew up."

"Yah, that's a load of bull crap, and you know it. And that ain't the point anyway. This had to happen, and I told the powers that be that I'd handle it because I figured you'd listen to me, even if I did have to wear an ugly green suit." She twirled around in the blue house coat she'd died in. "Not that this is my best look either, but I wanted you to see me like you remembered me."

My eyes released a river full of tears, and I didn't try to stop them. I cried and cried as my mother hovered patiently next to me. I babbled a few words, but she didn't understand them. "Wait, can't you read my mind?"

"You kidding me? That thing is like a brick. I couldn't get through there, even if I tried."

"But you knew—"

She stopped me. "What you were going to say next because I'm your mother for cryin' out loud. That's what mothers do."

She had a point.

"I really don't understand any of this. What am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to learn a lesson. Know you're not always going to be safe and be prepared."

"I'm doing that."

"I know, but you got to rely on others, and I don't mean just us celestial beings. I mean that hottie detective, for starters. You can't do this alone, and you can't be makin' crazy decisions, like running off without telling anyone where you're going and with nothing to defend yourself because you think criminals will listen to reason."

"You have a point."

"You wouldn't have left me there to die, would you?"

"Of course not. I knew our little buddy would help you, and I knew the hottie detective was on his way. ‘Course I didn't like seein' you in pain like that, but trust me, all of them got what they deserved from me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"

She shook her head. "Some things you're better off not knowing." She winked. "But trust me, it was good."

* * *

I didn't tell Mel how things went down with my mother, otherwise known as Mr. Green Suit. She had so much going on with the wedding, and I didn't want to cloud her joy with my stuff any more than I already had. Instead, I told her I'd come to an agreement with the leprechaun, and that the whole thing had been tabled until after her big day. She didn't believe me, but I said if she wanted me in the wedding, she'd have to live with it.

The two weeks between my mother returning and the wedding flew by. Mel attended to every detail with a white-gloved attitude, and I performed every task asked of me to do my part in making the day amazing for my best friends.

And it was amazing. Mel stunned her guests in her gorgeous lace and taffeta, pale pink gown, and the little touches of green throughout the décor were a hit, even though no one knew the joke about it.

Thank God for waterproof mascara.

I cried as Mel walked down the aisle. I cried when she handed me her bouquet, and I bawled like a baby when the officiant said, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

As the newly married couple turned and faced the crowd, Aaron smiled, raised their interlocked hands and yelled, “I love you, Bum Bum.”

The whole room jumped up and cheered.

I knew that would come back to haunt me, but it was so worth it.

THE END

Enjoy this excerpt from Carolyn Ridder Aspenson’s contemporary romance novella,

The Inn at Laurel Creek, Zoe & Daniel’s Story

on sale now.

The Inn at Laurel Creek

Zoe & Daniel’s Story

“You’re going to finish that book and enjoy yourself whether you want to or not,” the Inn’s owner, Lou Brinker insisted. “Stan, fetch her bags and bring them up to Serenity for me, will ya?” She offered me the sweetest of smiles, and if I hadn’t just traveled two hours longer than necessary because of a multi-car pile up on Interstate 85 in Atlanta, I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but I did, and it warmed my heart. “You’ll just adore the Serenity Suite, Ms. Barrett. Why, it’s the best room in the Inn, that’s for sure.”

“It sure is.” Stan Brinker adjusted the brown leather cowboy hat on his head and then tossed two of my bags over his hunched shoulders. He groaned from the effort.

I leaned in and took the heaviest one from him. “Mr. Brinker, you don’t have to do that. I’ll take this one.”

He removed his hat and placed it on the credenza in the foyer. “Now, Ms. Barrett, a gentleman never lets a lady carry her own bags.”

Lou patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t you let him fool ya. We got ourselves a brand new pulley so he doesn’t carry a darned thing up those stairs.”

Stan blushed. “I still carry a thing or two, but my back ain’t what it used to be. All those years on the farm done me in.”

Lou rubbed her husband’s back. “It sure did, but if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have this old house, and it’s a miracle worker, it is.” She led the way up the stairs, and to my suite.

“She’s right about that.” Stan had dropped my bags on the pulley hidden behind a hallway door in the foyer and followed his wife.

I did the same. “What do you mean, miracle worker?”

“See them doors? Outside those is where the good ones happen.” Stan pointed to a set of white, freshly painted French doors swaying in the fall breeze. “Why we’ve had rock stars fall in love out there just as recent as last year.”

“You’ve had rock stars stay here?”

“Sure have. Got ourselves a famous one married here just last month.”

“Is this where Bret Bennett got married?”

“Sure is,” Stan said.

Lou waited to unlock my suite, and we stepped through the French doors and onto the porch while Stan removed my bags from the pulley. “It gets a touch chilly up here at night, especially during the fall months like this, so you ought to wear a sweater, but if you play your cards right, you might just catch yourself a shooting star,” Lou said.

“And this is the miracle spot right here. It’s where Ben, er, uh, Bret and Carly fell in love.” A touch of pink stained Stan’s cheeks again.

Lou pinched his left cheek. “Ain’t he just the cutest old bug? Getting all romantic like that and blushin’. True love does that to him every time.”

I hoped one day to have a love like that. A love like Stan and Lou, and Bret and Carly, sweet and kind and written in stone, not the kind I’d just run from that left me damaged and bitter and desperate to hide in the north Georgia mountains for a month to finish writing my romance novel. The romance novel I’d promised my publisher two months before but had yet to finish because my ex-boyfriend, Chad Hart, dumped me for my so-called best friend. True best friends didn’t steal their best friend’s boyfriends—especially ones in their thirties—so I’d been wrong to think Shannon Brennan—officially known as the stealing boyfriend beyotch formally known as Shannon—was ever my best friend.

“Once you’re settled, you can sit out here and write. We have wireless wifi, and I’ll bring you my special sweet tea and cookies. It’s quiet and pretty, don’t you think?”

Flower-barren azalea bushes and sugar maples with leaves just at the start of changing colors lined the front walk. The varying stages of color change, some yellow, a few orange and even less a burnt red, were a slow death for the vibrant green leaves of spring and summer. It reminded me of the last few months of my relationship with Chad and of what remained after the break up. The leaves represented my heart; they knew their time was short and that soon they’d fall from the thin strands of life they desperately clung to and crash to the ground, a damaged mess of brokenness, all but dead inside. “It’s beautiful. Writing out here will be perfect.”

“She’s read all your books. Stays up well past her bedtime to finish ‘em, too.”

Lou shoved Stan to the side. “You hush, now honey. We don’t want our guest feeling uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay, really. I appreciate that. It pays the bills to have supportive fans.”

“Well, if that’s true, then Lou here’s gonna be paying all them bills. She’s a reader, my wife.”

“Stan Brinker, you’re making me madder than a wet hen. Unless you plan on sleeping in the shed, you better cut it out.”

Stan’s posture stiffened, and he scooted back through the French doors and to the Serenity suite.

Lou laughed. “I ought to be careful. I might just scare him to death one a these days.”

When Stan unlocked the door to my room, I knew I’d just glimpsed Heaven. A moan even escaped my lips. “This is beautiful.” My eyes darted to the antique copper claw-footed tub draped with tea light candles. I rushed to it. “And this…this is exactly what I need. I can already imagine a scene in my book with it.”

“Oh lawd, we’re gonna be in a book.” Lou swatted her husband on the shoulder. “Heavens, I think I might faint.”

Stan held his wife close and nuzzled his scruffy gray haired chin into her neck. “Now don’t you go and faint on me sweetheart, I can’t put you on that pulley, and I don’t got enough strength to carry you down those stairs. I’m too old to be doin’ that kinda thing.”

I tried so hard not to laugh, but I just couldn’t help myself. Lou laughed also, and Stan’s belly giggled until he finally burst into a laugh loud enough to rival the likes of a shopping mall Santa. I wished I could pack the two of them in my suitcase and bring them home with me.

It took a moment, but I realized I’d just smiled for the first time in weeks. “Thank you for that.”

Lou squeezed my shoulder. “For what, sweetie?”

“For the giggle. I most definitely needed that. It’s been a rough few weeks, and I don’t think I’ve had anything to laugh about in a while.”

“You can’t see what your mind doesn’t want your heart to know,” Stan said. His eyes sparkled. “I guess you’re ready to laugh now.”

“And that’s what we’re here for, to make your life better. For now though, we’re gonna skedaddle and let you get settled. Once you’re all unpacked, you let us know, and I’ll get you those cookies and sweet tea I told you about.

I wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

She hugged me back, and I nearly cried from the flash of emotion rushing through me.

Stan smiled. “You need anything, you just give me a holler, you hear?”

I bent my head and wiped the tear away, hoping they didn’t notice. “Yes, sir.”

He tipped his hat toward me. “Ma’am.”

I nodded. “Cowboy.”

Grab your copy today!

The Inn at Laurel Creek Zoe & Daniel's Story

OTHER BOOKS BY

CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Mystery

Unbreakable Bonds An Angela Panther Mystery

Uncharted Territory An Angela Panther Mystery

Unexpected Outcomes An Angela Panther Mystery

Unbinding Love An Angela Panther Mystery Novella

The Ghosts An Angela Panther Mystery Holiday Short

The Christmas Elf An Angela Panther Mystery Holiday Short

The Inn at Laurel Creek

The Inn at Laurel Creek Zoe & Daniel’s Story

Visit Carolyn’s website at

carolynridderaspenson.com

Follow Carolyn on Instagram at

Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

Say hi to Carolyn on Facebook at

Carolyn Ridder Aspenson, Author