Addictive Paranormal Reads Halloween Box Set

by Nana Malone

  Odd. It wasn’t like her parents to leave the oven on while they were away.

  Grandma came out of her room, the black urn clutched in her arms. She shoved it at Amanda. “Here, hold this thing while I put on my coat and boots.”

  Amanda caught the urn in her arms. Surprised at how heavy it was, she juggled it into one arm, dug into her jacket pocket for the car keys, and thumbed the car starter button. After Grandma had her coat and boots on, Amanda handed back the urn. “I’ll meet you in the car. I just want to poke my head into the garage to see if Mom or Dad is there and let them know we’re gone.”

  As her grandma headed out the front door, Amanda carried her boots to the back door, slipped them on and headed outside. The cold seeped through her jacket and she huddled deeper into its folds as she followed footsteps through the unshoveled snow to the garage. Opening the side door, she stepped inside. “Dad? Mom?”

  She noted that both cars were parked in the garage. She was about to leave when her attention focused on the action in the backseat of the car and the yellow can of whipping cream on the window ledge.

  In the dimly lit garage, she saw her dad’s naked butt and her mom’s naked breasts. She turned and in the mad dash to escape, tripped over the door sill. She hit the snow on all fours, scrambled to her feet and didn’t stop until she reached her Volkswagen, climbed inside, and slumped against the seat.

  “Did you find your parents?”

  “Yes. No.” Desperate to block out the images, Amanda sat forward, fished the keys out of her pocket, and stuck one into the ignition to start the car. “Do up your seatbelt, Grandma.”

  Grandma snapped on the belt and settled on the seat, the urn on her lap. “Well, which is it? Did you find them or not?”

  “Not. Definitely not. I don’t know what they’re doing or where they’re doing it.” She cleared her thoughts, slipped on the seatbelt and reached into the console for her sunglasses. They were missing.

  No way was she going back into the house and risk an embarrassing encounter with her parents. She stuck the car into gear, checked the rearview mirror and did a U-turn on the street.

  “I have something for you.” Beside her, the elderly woman dug through her purse until she produced a heart shaped air freshener, which she hung over the car mirror. “There, a little wedding cheer for your car.”

  Amanda eyed the tacky decoration. The tart cinnamon scent filled her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. If she was lucky, the chemicals in the scent would fry out the part of her brain that retained short term memories. “Thanks, Grandma.”

  With one gloved hand, the older woman stroked the smooth top of the urn. “Look how flushed you are. You should get more exercise, like your mom and dad. Every afternoon, they leave the house and go for a nice long walk around town.”

  “That’s probably where they are right now.” Amanda ground her teeth together, pretty sure she’d never lose the image of what her parents were up to in the backseat of the car.

  “We’re using your mom’s car for the wedding,” Grandma continued, and Amanda decided right then and there that she was walking down the street to the community hall. “I’ve made arrangements with Dane to decorate the car tomorrow morning. You can help him.”

  “Sure.” As long as she didn’t have to get inside the car. Or for that matter, anywhere near it. She’d make Dane do all of the work. He didn’t have to know why.

  At the end of the street, Amanda steered left and drove the short distance to the outskirts of town, where the cemetery was located next to the Lutheran Church. “Grandma, why are you looking for a plot for your urn? Don’t you want to keep it so your ashes can be placed with Gramps?”

  “Morty wants to be buried beside me.”

  “He does?” Amanda shot a glance at her grandma. “What about his other wives?”

  Grandma clucked her tongue, a frown etched between her snow white brows. “Girl, you’re making no sense. Morty was only married the once.” An expression of understanding cleared the frown from her wrinkled forehead. “Oh, I know what happened. You must have overheard your grandpa teasing Morty about marrying for money, then burying his wives in the back yard.”

  Amanda gripped the steering wheel. “So Morty only had one wife?”

  “Of course, dear. He’s not a scoundrel.” Grandma smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “Before I met your grandfather in grade school, Morty was my best friend. Our parents were neighbors and we played together in the crib.”

  Immediately, Amanda thought of Dane. “Really?”

  “Morty claims I was his first love. He’s such a sweet man. Always sending me flowers and writing me love notes.”

  “Fricking Morty,” Grandpa George moaned from the back seat and at the sound of his voice, Amanda jumped. She glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the glower on his face. “First it was the playground. Always had to outdo everyone. Swing higher. Go faster on the merry-go-round. Then when he figured out I loved your grandmother—”

  He stopped in mid-sentence, crossed his arms and set his mouth in a mulish line.

  Amanda gripped the steering wheel even tighter. There had to be some way to appease the grumpy ghost in the backseat. An idea occurred to her and she glanced over at her passenger. “But you love Gramps the most, right?”

  Grandma smiled sadly and stroked a hand across the top of the urn. “Of course, but he’s gone now and I’m lonely.”

  “Fricking bastard, fricking bastard, fricking bastard.” Grandpa kicked at the backseat. His foot came through the console beside Amanda and she jumped again.

  Grandma gripped Amanda’s arm and gave it a small shake. “What’s wrong with you, girl? You’re nervous as a mouse trying to steal cheese out of a trap. Have you been eating too much sugar?”

  “No, Grandma, it’s nothing. Everything is hunky dory. It’s just, you know how much I hate Valentine’s Day.”

  “Just like George. He hated the day, too. Thought it was all about the price of the gift. He treated it like a competition, as though he had to outdo his friends, especially Morty. Eventually, he adopted his anti-Valentine’s attitude and refused to even acknowledge the day.” Grandma released her arm and turned to stare out the side window. “Valentine’s Day is about finding love and sharing it with someone special. It’s about not being alone.”

  Alone. Amanda knew all about being alone.

  She steered the car into the cemetery parking lot, looked for Dane’s truck, but it was nowhere in sight. Good, it would give her more time to talk with her grandma. “I think I understand. When I moved to the city and left all of you behind, it was a difficult adjustment.”

  “I was married to your Grandpa George for fifty-one years and then, one day he was gone. I wasn’t prepared and I was lost for a very long time.”

  “I hope one day I find what you had with Gramps.”

  Amanda heard her grandma sniffle and realized that the older woman was lucky she’d found someone to share her life with, no matter her age. Maybe there was a way to convince Grandpa to let Grandma go.

  Oh yeah, she could already hear his voice in her head.

  Traitor.

  By now, Grandpa had worked himself into an angry knot of frustration and Amanda felt a little heartsick. While he’d hated Valentine’s Day, he’d loved his wife without question.

  Beside her, Grandma rifled through her purse and pulled out an envelope yellowed with age. “While we’re waiting, you can read this.”

  Amanda took the envelope. “What is it?”

  “A love note.”

  “From Gramps?” Amanda pulled a tissue thin piece of paper out of the envelope, carefully opened it up and frowned in confusion. It was covered with hand drawn images of smooching lips and Valentine hearts. Totally un-Gramps-like. She read the note out loud. “Be My Valentine.”

  Grandma released a blissful sigh. “Morty gave me that note when we were in the first grade.”

  “Flowers and love notes?” Grandpa roared from the back seat. “S
he said those things weren’t important. How could she have lied to me all these years?”

  Amanda folded the note, slid it into the envelope and passed it back. “Grandma, I’m confused. Why did you tell Gramps that love notes and chocolates and Valentine hearts were unimportant to you?”

  “What woman doesn’t love those things?” She glanced over at Amanda and smiled. “I’ll bet even you get giddy when someone special gives you something nice.”

  “Well sure, but why didn’t you tell Grandpa the truth?”

  “Because George wasn’t the romantic type. He worked hard and provided for his family. Isn’t that enough to expect from a man?” Grandma glanced her way again. “We never went without, Amanda, and we didn’t need the words to know we were loved.”

  A midnight blue half ton truck pulled into the empty parking space in front of them. Dane climbed out of the cab, gave a quick wave, then headed around to the passenger side to assist his grandfather. He looked tall and strong and yummy, and Amanda recalled the way her heart had thumped when he’d wrapped his arms around her and given her a welcome-home hug.

  Desire pulsed between her legs.

  She wiggled against the seat and willed her body to cool down.

  Dane helped his grandfather out of the truck and as Morty Weatherby set his feet on the pavement, his shoulders hunched, a cane in his hand to steady his balance, Grandma swooned like a sixteen year old in the throes of her first crush. “Isn’t he handsome?”

  In the backseat, Grandpa George snorted. “Morty’s a wimp. A wussy. A girlie-man.”

  Grandma pulled on the door handle. “Come along, dear. We don’t want to keep our men waiting.”

  Our men? She shook her head. Dane didn’t belong to her. They’d never had that kind of relationship. “I’ll be right there, Grandma. Watch out for the ice.”

  While Grandma climbed out of the vehicle to scurry across the parking lot to meet her fiancée, Amanda turned toward the back seat and leaned against the car door. “Are you okay, Grandpa?”

  “She said she loved me. She promised never to love another.” He kicked at the backseat, his foot once again coming through the console, but this time Amanda was ready for it and barely jumped at all.

  She reached out to pat his arm, but her hand went through him, so she dropped her hand on her lap. “The love-you-forever vows ended when you died.”

  “Elvira, my honey, my dear darling wife,” Grandpa George moaned, the shadows of his face elongated by the depths of his sorrow. “You have to stop her, bumpkin. She’s insane with grief. She’d have to be insane to marry that bastard Morty.”

  Amanda thought of the silly love note that had made her grandma smile like a young woman in love. “You lied to me, Gramps. Morty only had one wife.”

  “Would you have listened to me otherwise?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Tell her I’m still here. Tell her I still love her.”

  “She’ll think I’m insane.”

  “God damn it, Amanda. Tell her I forbid her to marry that old fool Morty.” He dropped his head into the curve of his open hands and mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you like that. I’d like to be alone for a while, if you don’t mind.”

  “It’ll be okay, Gramps.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll just be over there, if you come up with a better plan.”

  The door behind her swung open and she would’ve fallen backward into the snow if Dane hadn’t been there to catch her under the arms. Startled, she stared up at him and he stared back at her and, for just a moment, she thought she saw something more in his gaze, something that warmed her body and made her think of the wow factor.

  Oh, and hot sweaty sex. With him. Preferably not in the backseat of her mom’s car.

  She focused on the intensity of his gaze. “Hey there.”

  He blinked back. “Your grandma sent me to see if you were getting out of the car.”

  “I’m half there.” She smiled up at him. “You look weird upside down.”

  “So do you. It makes your nose look big and your chin crooked. Kind of grinchy.”

  She laughed. “Thanks. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “No problem. What are best friends for?” He pulled her the rest of the way out of the car and stood her on her feet.

  Amanda glanced back in the car, saw her grandpa still brooding and softly closed the door. She looked past Dane, where Grandma and Morty were stomping through the snow toward a distant area. “Well, I guess we should join them.”

  Dane stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and fell into step beside her. “So what do you really think about your grandma marrying my grandpa?”

  She shot a glance his way, noting with appreciation that he’d matched his long stride to her shorter one. “It seems like it happened awfully quick.”

  He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting beneath the jacket, sending something wickedly smooth to her stomach. “At their age, I guess they don’t have a lot of time to waste with all the usual dating rituals.”

  “You mean flowers and love notes? Like Be My Valentine?”

  He quirked one brow at her, the expression on his face bland. “You saw the note.”

  “I did. And if you ever give me a note like that, we are so over and done with.”

  “Good to know.” His mouth turned up into a naughty grin and something inside of her melted. “Your mom is hoping Elvira’s wedding will give you some ideas.”

  In the middle of her meltdown, his words make her choke. Beneath her jacket, she started to sweat, embarrassed. “She told you that?”

  “Another wedding, bumpkin?”

  Amanda jerked back, surprised by Grandpa’s appearance. “No.”

  Dane stopped and faced her, a disappointed expression on his face. “Right. You’re not the type of woman who’s going to appreciate the significance of a man getting down on one knee to propose. You’re so unromantic, Mandy.”

  “And all the commercialism surrounding the holiday is romantic?” she scoffed, feeling defensive. “What’s so romantic about flowers that last less than a week? Or a ring that costs more than a small car?”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “You know, I never quite understood why you felt like this.”

  She dropped her gaze to her boots and scuffed her toe against the snow, thinking about what her grandma had said. Forcing her gaze upward, past the long length of Dane’s legs, past the wide breadth of his shoulders, she met his compassionate gaze. “I guess because every time I had my heart crushed, Gramps was there to make me feel better. He’d hold my hand until I stopped crying, and tell me love couldn’t be bought.”

  Beside her, Grandpa roared, “Why is Morty holding my urn?”

  Amanda spun around. Sure enough, Grandma had handed Mr. Weatherby the urn. Leaving Dane, with his questions and his assumptions, she sprinted toward the older couple and skidded to a stop in front of them. “Hello, Mr. Weatherby. How are you? Here, let me hold that for you.”

  And before anyone could object, she slipped the urn from his arms into her own.

  As she shifted the heavy box, she glanced at her Grandpa and hoped he was satisfied. At least he was no longer glowering at Morty, so she turned back to the elderly couple. “Have you found anything?”

  Morty stomped on the snow beneath his feet. “I like this area. What do you think, Elvira?”

  Grandma walked around the plot. “Look at the drainage. George always said he didn’t want to get his feet wet.”

  Dane took the urn out of Amanda’s hands and she ignored her grandpa’s shout of outrage. How did her grandma carry it around all of the time? And more importantly, why was she carrying it around now? For the last fourteen years, it had been sitting on her dresser.

  She quickened her steps to keep up to her grandma. “It’s higher ground over here.”

  Grandma hooked her arms through Amanda’s. “I want it to face east because your grandpa was an early riser. He always enjoyed watching the sun rise in the mo
rning.”

  “You’re going to miss him, aren’t you, Grandma?”

  Grandma wiped a tear away from the edge of her eye. Amanda saw her sneak a glance over her shoulder, where Dane was helping Morty through the snow. She leaned closer and whispered, “Am I being an old fool or am I doing the right thing? I feel like I’m putting George out with the garbage.”

  “You deserve to be happy.” Amanda gave her grandma a quick hug. “It’s okay. It’s not like he died yesterday.”

  “You’re right, of course. George wouldn’t expect me to be unhappy and lonely for the rest of my life.” Grandma let go of her arm to bend down and look at a headstone. “I’d like him to know his neighbors.”

  “See, bumpkin, she still loves me.” Grandpa appeared beside Grandma and squatted down near the headstone. “Who’s this, Elvira? Someone we know?”

  Grandma jerked upright and with a confused frown on her face, turned toward Morty and Dane. “Did one of you change your aftershave?”

  Dane shook his head, as did his grandfather. Morty stepped forward, right through Grandpa George — who disappeared in a poof — and took Elvira’s hands. “What is it, my dear? You look distressed.”

  “It’s...I...” She leaned toward Morty, sniffed around his neck and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m being silly. I thought I could smell George’s aftershave.”

  Grandpa popped up beside Amanda. “How is that possible, bumpkin?”

  Morty patted Elvira’s hands and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Maybe there’s still some on his urn. Once you put his ashes to rest, my sweet, you’ll feel much better.”

  “What if I don’t? Are we doing the right thing, Morty?” She slid the urn out of Dane’s arms into her own and clutched it tight to her chest.

  Morty patted her on the arm. “Elvira, dearest, George wouldn’t want you to pine for him forever.”

  “Yes, I do,” Grandpa George roared, then jumped at Morty, passed right through him, and landed chest first on the snow.

  With a doubtful expression, Grandma turned her back on her frowning fiancée and stomped through the snow toward another part of the cemetery. “How about over there, George?”