“In here,” I said. I licked my lips, tasting Cal there, and felt my cheeks burn a bright candy-apple red.

Aunt Sue and Aunt Millie bustled into the room, dropping an armload of items onto the coffee table: a bag of sandwiches, a two-liter bottle of Coke, and a purple Tupperware container with Hello Kitty painted on the side.

“What’s this?” I asked, pulling back the lid on the container.

“Hattie.”

“Hattie? Hattie Carmichael!?” I took one giant step back from the Tupperware.

Aunt Sue nodded. “We picked her up from the crematorium on the way home.”

I wrinkled my nose. “And brought her home in Tupperware? Don’t they usually give you an urn for that?”

“They wanted to charge us two hundred dollars for an urn,” Millie piped up. “Can you believe the nerve? I mean, we’re just going to spread her ashes tomorrow anyway. Who pays two hundred dollars for an urn they’re only gonna use for one day?”

I was at a loss to answer that question.

“So, Millie offered to go down the street to the dollar store and pick up a pretty ceramic jar or something,” Aunt Sue said.

I looked down at the plastic container. “That’s not a ceramic jar.”

Millie shrugged. “I think my eyesight might be slipping a little.”

Understatement alert.

But Aunt Sue waved her off. “No matter. This works. In fact, it’s better. Spill resistant lid.” She flipped the Tupperware upside down and shook it. “See?”

I looked from one wrinkled face to the other. Then to Cal for help. He just grinned, holding up his hands in a surrender motion as if to say, “Hey, they’re your aunts.”

“So, you are coming with us to spread the ashes tomorrow, right?” Aunt Sue asked.

I nodded. “Right.” It was the least I could do. Especially considering Mrs. Carmichael was now residing in a leftovers receptacle.

“Good. We’ll leave at eight. The gates open at nine.”

“Gates?” I asked, grabbing onto the word. Suddenly I had a bad feeling about this.

Aunt Sue blinked innocently at me. “Yes. They don’t open until nine in the fall.”

“What doesn’t open until nine?’

“Disneyland.”

Mental forehead smack.

“Disneyland? Wait—you’re spreading Mrs. Carmichael’s ashes at Disneyland?”

The aunts nodded in unison.

“It’s what Hattie wanted,” Aunt Sue spoke up. “She was the first Mickey Mouse, you know. Her fondest memories are of the Magic Kingdom.”

“It is the happiest place on earth,” Millie added solemnly.

I shook my head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s not legal to spread human remains there.”

“No one will ever notice,” Aunt Millie assured me.

I had a hard time believing that.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I looked to Cal to back me up.

Thankfully, he nodded in agreement this time. “She’s right. They have security cameras all over that place.”