by Sarah Sutton
Receiving Dad’s letter had introduced a new fear, though. What if I wasn’t enough for Lucas too? What if, after everything, he ended up walking away? Throwing in the towel? Leaving me like Dad?
The mere idea had made me so panicked.
“That’s a load of crap, you know that?”
I looked at Donnie sharply. “What?”
“Blaire, I know you wear the costume a lot, but you’re no princess. You’re a butt-kicking girl who holds her own. Crap happens to you, but you’re strong.” Donnie shrugged a little, and his wing bobbled. “Yeah, Lucas breaking up with you would suck. And I’d be thrown into the middle again, which would suck almost as bad because all of this has been totally awkward. But you’d get through it. You’d be okay.”
His words were kind, and he sounded so sure, but I wasn’t convinced. My words came out small. “How do you know?”
“Because you have me,” Donnie said with a smile. “And Gram. And you’ve gone through crap over the past two years—on top of going through high school, which is miserable. You’re strong. Your life doesn’t revolve around a guy, and you know that.”
I wanted to repel everything he said, wanted to shake the thoughts out of my head. Wanted to wallow in this moment of pain and suffering, because I deserved it. For hurting Lucas so badly, I deserved it. For not opening Dad’s letter sooner, I deserved it. Thinking about Lucas deciding to walk away had opened a rift in my chest, almost uncrossable. Too wide of a distance to function.
Before he let me stew even further in my thoughts, Donnie said, “Besides, I don’t think you have to worry about him walking away, Blaire. I mean, he stuck around even when you dumped him, didn’t he? He still got you Crushed Beanz every morning.”
Back up the truck. Lucas had done— “What?”
“You mean you really thought I got you coffee every morning?” He winked. “Blaire, I love you, but not enough to wake up fifteen minutes earlier. You think beauty like this just happens?”
His words weren’t computing. Complete gibberish. “So this entire time, Lucas has still been getting me coffee?”
“Except for that one day—the one where the coffee was super sweet? I got it that time. He was running late and paid me fifteen bucks.”
So Donnie was saying that even though we’d been broken up, Lucas had still gotten us coffee every morning? Me and Donnie? My usual drink. Lucas had gotten it right every time. I recalled the days when Lucas had had a cup of his own in his hand, the teal Crushed Beanz logo a dead giveaway.
My stomach fluttered, butterflies tumbling around. I glanced away, not trusting myself to look at Donnie—not trusting that my gaze wasn’t filled with some sort of sappy emotion—and focused on the orange envelope by my side. I had it turned so Dad’s handwriting faced me, stark black letters.
“Dad wrote a nice letter,” I told Donnie, changing the subject and not looking up. The frown I held on my face began to quiver as emotion pushed through me, the line in my forehead trembling with the effort to keep severe. “Said that if I wanted to reach out, I could. I used to be so angry at him for sending it—for ruining everything. But…I’m not angry anymore.”
No, that anger had disappeared, burnt up. The black smoke of my resentment had faded, leaving different emotions in its wake. Not as choking as the smoke; hazy like fog on a fall morning. There was a promise that it would clear, and if I looked hard enough, I could somewhat see down the road.
But in the wake of anger rested pain.
I tried not to let myself cry too much. Crying felt so useless, pointless, childish. But I wasn’t much of a crier, anyway—when something bad happened, I didn’t get sad;. I pushed everything down, shoved it away, refused to deal with it.
But now that pain swamped through me, threatening to drown me. All the pain came out through my tears. The coolness tracked its way down my hot cheeks, and a teardrop fell onto my blankets. It was the silent sort of cry. Mourning. All the grief from Mom, all the grief from Dad, all the grief from Lucas, culminating into a slicing ache.
Donnie reached out and wrapped his hand over the curve of my knee, giving it a squeeze, hanging on.
In a way, crying everything out was refreshing. A thunderstorm after a long season of drought. The gasping breaths I took felt like the first in a long time—the first, perhaps, since Dad had left. At least the first since I’d received his letter.
Dad had realized he couldn’t face Halloween in Hallow without her. And I saw that now. It was what he’d written on a gas station receipt from that same day, but I’d never understood. Blaire, you know I love you. I can’t be in Hallow anymore. I’m sorry. He couldn’t stay in Hallow because it reminded him too much of Mom. Of everything she’d loved, every place she’d been, the very house she’d lived in. It hadn’t been about me. And no matter how much I wanted to—and I really did—I couldn’t fault him for his fear. He’d left town because he’d been afraid to face the holiday without Mom.
I’d broken up with Lucas because I was afraid of the pain of him walking away, a pain that might’ve not ever happened.
Fear made people do crazy, stupid things.
For the first time in two years, I stared through Dad’s eyes with startling clarity. Part of me wanted to pretend otherwise, the begrudging, bitter part, but I knew the truth. For what felt like the first time, my heart ached for Dad.
“Is everything—Blaire?” Gram’s voice was quiet at first, and then morphed into a more concentrated level of concern. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
Donnie stood from the bed to let Gram sit down, and she pulled me into her arms. After a moment of stiffness, unused to her embrace, my body relaxed. Her vanilla perfume washed over me immediately, her house robe gentle against my cheek.
Without another word, Donnie slipped from the room.
It’d been a long time since Gram had held me like this, like an upset child, and I found myself clinging to her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d melted into her. There was something about a grandmother’s hug that was perfect. Her hugs reminded me of Mom’s, where a simple embrace made the whole world seem better, brighter. The world started spinning regularly again; the air in my lungs cleared.
A part of me, the part so used to pushing people away, wanted to hide the envelope, tuck it behind my back, not let Gram know I’d read it. That part of me didn’t want her to be right, didn’t want her to know I’d caved.
I drew in a breath that rattled. “I read Dad’s letter.”
Immediately, her grip on me tensed. “You don’t have to answer him, you know. Not until you’re ready to. There isn’t a time limit or an expiration date or anything like that.”
I pulled away enough so I could see her face, swiping my palm along my cheeks. It came away damp. “I don’t know if I’ll write back. Not yet. I think…I think I still need to wrap my head around it.”
She pushed my hair over my shoulder, then grasped the tops of my arms, giving them an affectionate squeeze. “You’re growing into such a fine young woman, you know that? Your parents…they’d be proud.”
Great, I was going to start crying again. “Did you know Dad was struggling?” I asked her, thinking about his letter. “Before he left, I mean.”
“I knew he was having a hard time, but I never dreamed he’d leave us.” Gram still smoothed her fingers through my hair, the lulling movement comforting. “If I’d known, I would’ve talked him out of it.”
I tried to think what I might’ve done differently if I’d known Dad was going to leave that night. What if I’d come out into the kitchen and saw him writing that note? What would I have done? Would that have changed anything? I would never know.
Gram cleared her throat, and her eyes were bright. “I’ve got a surprise for you. I wanted to save it until tomorrow, but I think you need something to make you smile today.”
I swiped the back of my hand across my cheek. “What is it?”
“I’ve kept the surprise quite well,” she said smugly, her hands sl
iding down to grab mine. “But I think you need to try it on to see it in the full effect.”
“Try it on?” I frowned a little, sniffling. “Is it for Costume Catering?”
Gram smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you. First, can I ask you a question?” She lowered her voice. “What was Donnie wearing?”
A laugh burst out of me, strangled but genuine. “It was costume week at school. He was a moth, I think.”
“Costume week! Why didn’t you say anything? I’m the queen of costumes! We could’ve come up with fun ideas.”
“Next year,” I promised her, knowing it wasn’t a hollow Halloween promise. I allowed her to draw me to my feet. “Now, about that surprise?”
That night, despite not sleeping at all the night before, I couldn’t fall asleep. But tonight, I wasn’t tormented by the idea of opening Dad’s letter.
No, I was instead tormented by Lucas.
More like the idea of Lucas. I’d seen him yesterday when I’d picked up the pitcher for Gram, but it already felt like a lifetime ago.
Even though I wanted to call him, I wasn’t sure I could. I understood what Donnie had said earlier—my life didn’t revolve around a guy. If Lucas wanted to leave, it wouldn’t ruin my life. But the fear was still there. That nagging idea of “what if?” What if I let him back in only to get hurt again? What if we broke up a month later? What if he didn’t want me back?
With the Halloween Bash tomorrow, I had no idea if Lucas had accepted Hailey’s proposal to be her date. After everything I’d put him through—after I’d told him he should—he deserved someone who wanted his company. In all honesty, I couldn’t remember why they’d ever broken up in the first place. And if I couldn’t remember why, it must not have been a big enough deal. Maybe it was a hurdle they could easily overcome; maybe they already had.
When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore and that my brain was about to explode, I rolled over, pushing onto one elbow and reaching toward my nightstand. My cell phone laid right on top of the envelope, Dad’s letter tucked safely inside. I still didn’t know if I wanted to write him back or not, but I couldn’t help but feel protective of the letter now. Protective of the words he’d written for me.
Funny how I’d wanted to throw the thing away.
I swiped up my cell, and as I unlocked the screen, it started vibrating. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I saw Lucas’s name flash, along with the picture I’d set to his contact info. It’d originally been a photo of us after one of his football games last year, posing under the stadium lights, but I’d cropped it, so it only showed him.
I got so distracted by the photo that the call almost went to voicemail before I pressed accept. For a moment, I watched my phone, slowly lifting it to my ear as if it were about to explode. “Hello?”
“It’s after midnight.” Lucas’s voice came immediately, without hesitation. “Happy Halloween.”
A quick glanced at my alarm clock told me he wasn’t wrong. “Happy Halloween.” My heart beat so loudly in my ears that I almost couldn’t hear myself speak. “Did you wait up so you could call me at midnight?”
“I might’ve been.”
A pause filled the air, and I hated it. Our lingering history clung to the quiet, filling the moment with white noise. “You know, we never went on our fourth outing,” I told him, running my fingertips through my hair.
“After the corn maze, I wasn’t sure—well, I wasn’t sure if we should’ve been friends anymore.”
There it was. Lucas finally admitting what I knew early on—being friends wouldn’t have worked. But was he admitting what I always feared? That he was finally done being a part of my life?
“Listen, I…I wanted to call and say I’m going to the Halloween Bash tomorrow.”
My stomach flipped. “Me too. I have to work it.”
“Oh. Really? They booked Gram for it this year?”
This time, when he claimed Gram as his own, I didn’t correct him. “Yeah.” I wanted to tell him about her excitement, how she’d practically screamed when she’d gotten the email, but the words choked off.
“She’s probably so excited. That’s so awesome.” Lucas cleared his throat, speaking a bit firmer. “I’m going to wear that god-awful Prince Charming costume Mom got me. I—I forgot to get a different outfit. It’s either that or the mermaid tail.”
I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to think of something to say. “Tight pants and everything?”
Lucas’s laugh came through the other line, genuine, and it cracked apart the tenseness in me. For a split second, things felt normal. If only for a second. “Tight pants is better than no pants.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” I said with a small smile, but it quickly faded. He’d wear that prince costume tomorrow—did that mean Hailey was going to be a princess? Were they going together? But why would he tell me he was going to be a prince? “Lucas, I—”
“I know how hard today is for you,” he said abruptly, and I wished so, so badly that I could see his face, see what expression he had on, what emotion glimmered in his eyes. The phone provided a cruel barrier between us, shutting me out of what went on in that head of his. And gosh, I wanted to know what ran through his brain. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The breath I drew in pinched, but it wasn’t painful. “I’ll be okay,” I said softly, tucking my blanket closer to my skin. “Thanks, Lucas.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said softly, a thread of hesitation tied in those words. I didn’t want him to hang up, didn’t want this strange phone call to end. “Goodnight, Blaire.”
And without waiting for my response, Lucas ended the call.
I laid back against my pillows, staring at the ceiling much like I had last night. If I focused, his low voice still echoed in my ear. Why had he called me? To tell me he was going to be a prince at the Bash? To simply wish me Happy Halloween? After our argument at the corn maze, I couldn’t imagine him doing the latter.
Had he told me he was being a prince because he wanted me to be a princess? Was that it? Or was I overthinking that too?
I thought of the surprise Gram had been crafting for me. I couldn’t be a princess tomorrow, not even if I wanted to. For the first time in my life, I was going to be the one thing I’d always dreamed of.
The Village of Hallow went all out with the Halloween Boo-Bash each year. Our apartment was directly across the street from the park, making it hard to miss the big party. The music came through the brick walls, the laughter too, beckoning me to come to the window and take a peek. And so I’d go to the window, part the curtains, look out at the party in the park below. It always looked so strange, with so many people wandering around, fully in costume, laughing and having a great time.
However, being at the party was so much different than watching the party.
Or, at least, that’s what I thought as I looked out the shop’s windows, listening to Gram count off the last mini caramel cheesecakes. I rubbed my fingertips along the surface of my nail polish, lost in thought as I stared across the street. “There were a lot of trick-or-treaters this year,” I said to Gram, watching the orange and black balloons wiggle with the wind. “I can’t believe we ran out of candy so early.”
“Well, they’ll go across the street to the Boo-Bash and get their fill,” she said with a chuckle, picking up a large pan of mini cheesecakes. “Aimee!” she shouted, turning to face the direction of the kitchen. “We’re heading over!”
Aunt Aimee moved out from behind the wall that obscured the back, a jack-o-lantern apron covering her costume. She dressed as some kind of superhero, with a black-and-gray suit and a red cape that hung off her shoulders. “I’ll head over with the last tray in a bit. John should be there manning the display.”
Gram drew in a breath, nodding several times. “Great, great. Don’t forget to grab the extra—”
“—skewers for the finger-foods,” Aunt Aimee finished for her, rolling her eyes. “Go, Mom. Stop
stressing.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be great,” I told Gram with a smile. “Take a breath.”
“Take a breath,” Gram echoed, huffing a little, but did breathe in through her nose. “Can you grab the door?”
“Wait!” Aunt Aimee ducked back behind the wall, and when she emerged, she was holding a thin-bristled black broom. It was the one that we usually swept the kitchen with. “Since you don’t have a hat to make it obvious, you need to have this.”
I ducked to hide my wide smile as she passed it to me, my heart full. “Thanks, Aunt Aimee.”
The costume I wore was so much more comfortable than the normal princess getup Gram liked to shove me in, and when I’d put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, my heart could’ve burst.
Gram stopped, about to pass through the doorway, turning to look me in the eye. “I should’ve let you be a witch sooner, huh?”
Gram had outdone herself. I’d dressed in a shadow, a garment of darkness so much like me that I couldn’t wipe a smile off my face as soon as I’d put it on. The black dress hung down to my feet, pooling there, making it look as if I were rising from the ground. Small shoulder pads had been sewn under the long sleeves, lace-covered to make it look spookier. The lace accent was also on the hem of the sleeves, and it tickled my skin. The layers of the dress slipped gently against my legs as I walked, the smooth fabric like silk.
All in all, I loved it.
“Come on,” Gram said, stepping out further into the Halloween air, the costume she’d worn to Mrs. Avery’s tea party flowing with her. “Let’s go give them pumpkin to talk about.”
My smile stretched to a full-blown grin, and I shook my head. “Punny.”
I’d predicted that Halloween would be a chilly one this year, but Mother Nature had gifted the Village of Hallow a beautifully tempered atmosphere, chilly enough to be seasonally right. Enough of a breeze to rustle the leaves along the ground, adding to the air of the spooky night.