Page 87 of Captivating Anika

“Sure, you can leave your number.”

When we walk out onto the parking lot a few minutes later, I abruptly stop and turn to my mom, pulling her into a hug.

“I love you, Mom.”

Her arms tighten around me.

“I love you too, my precious girl.”

As if by silent agreement, we let go of each other at the same time and continue walking to Mom’s car, as if we didn’t just hug it out in the middle of the parking lot.

“You know, I should probably call Mel,” I suggest when we pull out of the parking lot.

“Mel, Lindsey’s mom?”

“Yeah. She was Kim’s lawyer. She might know—or at least be able to find out—what our options are.”

“You mean for Martha?”

“Yes, but also in terms of arrangements for Kim.”

Mom nods. “You know, that’s probably a good idea.”

Fishing my phone from my purse, I dial Mel’s number right away. She already heard through the grapevine of Kim’s passing, so after a few niceties I dive right into the issue, explaining the situation.

“Technically, anyone willing to assume legal and financial responsibility for a funeral or cremation can do so in the state of Colorado, but only when no one is designated in an agreement, and there are no next of kin. So you have two problems, one is that she was still legally married to Chris Cooper—who is in the wind—and the second being her mother.”

“Are you saying we can’t do anything for her?”

“Nope, not saying that, but it’s going to take some doing, because a judge will have to sign off on it. Now, the good news is that I already filed for a divorce on Kim’s behalf, which will help taking care of Chris, but I’ll have to see what we can do with regard to the mother.

“Now, before I do anything, I need to know if you’re willing and able to take on financial responsibility for Kim’s funeral, because those aren’t cheap.”

I do a quick mental calculation of the kind of cash I could pull together quickly.

Mom taps my leg. “Tell her, yes. Dad and I will help.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. Dammit, she’s going to make me sappy again.

“Yes, I’ll take responsibility.”

“Okay. I’ll need your full name, date of birth, address, and email to get me started.”

After I recite those details, she says she’ll be in touch and hangs up.

The rest of the drive home we’re each lost in our own thoughts, but when we turn onto my street, Mom pats my leg.

“You did good. You’re a good friend.”

“Please, don’t be nice to me, Mom. Hog’s done nothing but mop up my tears since we got together. Please don’t make me come home bawling.”

She glances over at me, looking a bit taken aback, before she pulls up in front of my house. Feeling a little guilty, I invite her inside.

“Want to come meet our puppies?”

Her eyes pop open wide. “You have puppies?”

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