Straight on Toward Paradise

by Kristin Wallace

  Five seconds in the car and the truce was over.

  “I’m not just going to let you go off to some party without finding out the details,” Emma said, a little surprised by how easily those questions had flown out of her mouth. The mothering instinct seemed to have taken hold at some point.

  Imogene’s affronted sigh filled the car. “Yes, midnight, and no one older than eighteen. It’s only high school kids.”

  “Uh huh, because high school kids have never gotten into trouble,” Emma drawled. “Do I need to drive you and pick you up?”

  “No…” Imogene folded her arms.

  Emma sighed and directed a glance at Paige. “What about you?”

  “I always go trick or treating with everybody on the block,” Paige said. “Then I have a sleepover at Carly Martin’s house.”

  “Have I met Carly Martin?” Emma asked, wondering if she would be punished with sulks for not knowing Paige’s friends either.

  “She’s in the play.”

  Emma did recall a cute girl with glasses and a mass of dark curls. “Well, that sounds like fun.”

  “You can come, too,” Paige said. “A bunch of the parents walk with us.”

  Hang out with the other parents for several hours? Endure the awkward glances and stilted conversations of people who had no idea how to talk to Thomas Bertram’s wayward daughter from his first marriage? “Oh…I don’t know.”

  “It’ll be fun,” Paige insisted, her face eager.

  Like Emma could say no now. “Sure, I’ll tag along,” she said, gritting her teeth a little. Uncomfortable silence could be endured if Paige had a good night on her first Halloween without her parents.

  “You girls never did tell me what you wanted to be,” Emma said.

  “Alice in Wonderland,” Paige said.

  “A witch,” Imogene jumped in. “I saw a picture online, and it was cool.”

  “Okay, Alice and a witch,” Emma said, determined to brave her way through the next few days and try not to remember that Halloween represented everything she’d grown to resent.

  The Strip was bustling with afternoon traffic, and finding a parking space took a few minutes. Imogene’s prediction about a run on costumes proved to be correct as the store was bursting at the seams with people. Paige found an Alice costume easily enough and went to try it on. The kids’ costumes were cute, but the ones for the teens and women were alarming. Every single one, whether a nurse, a pirate, or a fairy, seemed to be the R-rated version. Tiny skirts, cleavage everywhere, bare midriff, fishnet tights. When had Halloween become an excuse for women to look like…

  The thought was cut off as Imogene approached, with a costume in a clear plastic bag. The front depicted a woman in a black and red bustier top and a mini-skirt that barely covered the downstairs. A long, black cape flowed down past thigh-high stiletto boots. The title on the bag read “Temptress Witch”.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Emma burst out.

  Imogene’s face went from excited to disgusted in an instant. “You said I could be a witch.”

  Emma pointed at the bag. “I thought you meant a regular witch with a cute dress and a pointy black hat,” she said, forming a triangle above her head. “Not a Temptress Witch. You don’t need to be tempting anyone.”

  “That’s not fair!” Outrage stamped across Imogene’s features. “You let Paige pick out a costume!”

  “She didn’t choose something so—”

  “Ladies…good afternoon,” a baritone voice rumbled in her ear.

  Emma didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind her. The shudder that swept down her spine told her Reece Casings had magically appeared…again.

  Imogene’s smile of sheer joy confirmed what Emma’s body already knew. “Uncle Reece!”

  “What are you doing here?” Emma asked, not quite ready to turn around and get a full on view. “Did the girls call you again to come rescue them?”

  “I had a meeting across the street and saw your car pass by,” Reece said. “I figured you would wind up here.”

  Imogene held up the plastic bag with the “Temptress Witch” costume. “Uncle Reece, tell Emma this costume is fine for me to wear,” she said in an aggrieved tone. “She’s being ridiculous.”

  Reece waved a hand. “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine—” Emma brought her heel down hard on top of his foot, and he swore. “What?”

  “Look closer,” Emma said, gesturing toward the picture of the scantily clad woman on the front.

  Reece focused on the bag again, and then his eyes went wide, and every muscle in his body seemed to go rigid. “Oh…hell…no.”

  Emma almost laughed out loud at the surprise on Imogene’s face. Saint Reece had just plummeted back to earth as a boring, old adult.

  “Oh my gosh! You guys are impossible!” Imogene cried.

  “You’re not going to be parading around in front of horny teenage boys who will assume you want something you’re not ready to give,” Reece said.

  Imogene frowned, and her cheeks colored. “They’re not—”

  Reece held up a hand. “I was a horny teenage boy once, and that costume…” He shook his head. “Why don’t you look for something else?”

  “There’s got to be a witch costume in here that’s a little more age appropriate,” Emma said, astounded to find that for once she and Reece were on the same page. “If not, maybe my mom can make you something. She always made my costumes, and they were amazing.”

  The idea of having a homemade costume must have freaked Imogene out enough to make her abandon “Temptress Witch” in favor of something more along the lines of “Cute Teenage Witch”. She spun on her heel and went back to the wall.

  “And check on your sister!” Emma called out as her sister disappeared. Then she finally got up the courage to turn and look at Reece.

  Thankfully, he was studying the bags stuffed with costumes hanging along the wall. He frowned as he got a glimpse of “Sexy Cop”, “Sexy Lady Pirate”, “Sexy Cave Girl”. There was even a “Sexy Nun”, which seemed wrong on so many levels.

  “When did Halloween costumes become so—” He swallowed and shook his head.

  “I’m not sure,” Emma said, amused by his expression of alarm. “I usually try to avoid Halloween so I haven’t dressed up in a couple decades.”

  Reece’s gaze shifted her way, and then back to the costumes. A smile that could almost be described as salacious turned up the corners of his mouth as he ran a finger down the outside of one of the bags. “I wouldn’t mind if you wore this one.”

  He’d picked out a super hero costume made famous by Linda Carter in the eighties. It even had the gold armbands and the rope used to make people tell the truth.

  “I don’t think I’d look anywhere near as wonderful as Linda did,” Emma said. “I don’t quite have the…” she gestured to her front.

  His smile turned hotter, matching the flare of heat in his dark eyes, as he stepped closer. “Oh, you would look more than wonderful.”

  “What are you doing?” she hissed, putting out a hand to hold him off. “We’re in the middle of a crowded store.”

  “It’s noisy in here,” he said, ignoring the pressure of her hand, which frankly wasn’t all that strong. “I have to get closer to hear you.”

  “Reece you can’t—”

  His chest lifted. “Say my name again,” he said in a rough voice.

  “Stop it.” She glared up at him. “This isn’t funny.”

  The flame seemed to douse. “You think I’m amused that every time I get near you, I lose my mind?” he asked, his tone soft but urgent. “You think I want this? I don’t understand it either, but I’m not running scared from it.”

  “I’m not running scared,” she hissed out.

  “Prove it. Go out with me.”

  “Fine.”

  “You—” He paused and something shifted behind his eyes. Triumph? Relief? She couldn’t tell. “Did you just say yes?”

  “Apparently.” She ro
lled her eyes. “Let’s do this, but can we wait until after Halloween? The process of finding an acceptable costume for Imogene might kill me first, and then we won’t have to worry about dating.”

  Reece’s lips twitched. “Now who’s being overly dramatic?”

  “Don’t laugh at me,” Emma said grimly. “You don’t live with us. You have no idea what it’s like to be in the same house with a teenage girl.”

  Another ghost of emotion shifted across his features, but this time he seemed almost devastated.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t live with you,” Reece said, clenching his jaw and looking away as if to hide whatever he was feeling.

  What had happened with him? One minute Reece was teasing, the next it was like storm clouds had passed overhead.

  Emma leaned closer, wishing she could read him better. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll spend a couple hours together and realize that deep down we still hate each other.”

  His gaze swung back, drilling her with another heated glance. “I have a feeling neither of us is going to get off so easily.”

  Emma shivered. No. Nothing about her growing feelings for Reece Casings was easy. The rising, all-consuming, can’t-stop-thinking-about-him tide of emotion threatened to pull her under, and now she wasn’t sure she would survive with her heart intact.

  Chapter 22

  Imogene eventually picked a more appropriate witch costume, though she sulked about it for the rest of the week. With her mother’s and the girls’ help, Emma even decorated the front lawn with fake spider webs in the bushes, three scarecrows in the garden, and two huge carved jack o’ lanterns for the front stoop. For kicks, Emma bought a funny witch, which was designed to look like she had flown into a tree on her broom.

  The decorations didn’t kill her, and Emma began to believe that she might end up liking Halloween again, after all. Of course, first she had to survive trick or treating with the other parents on the block, pray Imogene didn’t get into trouble at her party, and then go on a date with Reece.

  A date. With Reece Casings.

  Two, maybe three hours of uninterrupted time and conversation with a man who made her simultaneously want to strangle him and have her way with him.

  Oh, and adding to the confusion, her mother had a date with Brent Atwood…for the fourth time. It seemed her mother was dating a younger man. Emma didn’t know quite how to feel about that. As far as she knew, Mary Bertram had never really dated anyone. She’d gone out a few times while Emma was still in high school, but there hadn’t been anyone. Emma didn’t think there had been anyone since she’d left for cooking school, either.

  Brent Atwood was certainly handsome, and he seemed nice enough for someone who made his living pretending to be someone else, but still…it was weird. Her mother seemed almost giddy, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. It was sweet, but also kind of…unsettling. Was her mother actually falling in love with Brent? The better question might be, was Brent falling in love with her mother? He must have had plenty of other relationships with women before. Beautiful, talented, younger women. Emma hoped he wasn’t just trying to stave off boredom by trying to seduce a lonely divorcee.

  Seduce?

  Oh crap…Emma didn't even want to think about her mother and…

  Emma honestly didn’t have much time to worry about her mother, though. She had two sisters to prep for Halloween festivities. She left work early and went to pick up her sisters from school. The first stop was the High School. Emma headed for the dreaded pick up line. After a few months, pick up and drop off still terrified her.

  She was about to make the turn to get into the line when she spotted a dark-haired girl and tall, built guy making out in the student parking lot. Emma would have kept going, except she recognized the dark-haired girl. Brakes squealing, she turned into the other lot, pulling up right next to the car the couple was leaning against.

  Emma rolled down the window. “Imogene…”

  Her sister gasped and jerked away from the boy. No, not really a boy. He was too tall and the shoulders too wide. He looked like he had to shave every morning, too. Definitely not a freshman, and if the battered car they were using as a prop was his, that meant he was at least sixteen.

  “Who’s your friend?” Emma asked, though she kept her eye on the boy. It took one glance to realize she didn’t trust the arrogant smirk on his face.

  “Oh my gosh!” Imogene cried. “None of your business.”

  “No, actually it is,” Emma said, careful not to raise her voice or overreact. “Get in the car please.”

  Imogene’s eyes narrowed, and then her arms crossed. “Ricky’s taking me home.”

  “Nope.” Emma reached across the seat and swung the passenger door open. “Let’s go…now.”

  “You can’t make me!” Imogene snarled, all traces of the cease-fire disappearing.

  “Wanna bet?” Emma asked, still managing to sound pretty chipper when she wanted to yell, too.

  “Oh!” Imogene’s outraged howl echoed around the crowded parking lot, turning heads from every direction. When she realized how much attention she was attracting, Imogene’s cheeks turned red, and she climbed in the car, slamming the door shut.

  Emma spared another glance at Ricky, sending him her best don’t-even-think-about-touching-my-sister glare. The arrogant teen had the audacity to smile and shoot her an obscene gesture.

  “The little jerk,” Emma gasped.

  “He’s not a jerk,” Imogene said. “He’s my boyfriend.”

  “Since when do you have a boyfriend?” Imogene had never even mentioned a boy.

  Imogene’s lip curled. “You might know about him if you’d ever bothered to come home.”

  “Don’t try that with me,” Emma said, feeling her blood start to boil. Why did Genie have to push her buttons continuously? “I didn’t see him at the funeral, which means he’s a new addition. You’re not even allowed to date.”

  Imogene’s huff of disgust filled the car. “Says who?”

  “Since I’m the one who’s in charge that would be me.”

  “You’re only in charge because mom and dad died!” she yelled.

  The verbal slap met its mark. “That’s right. Mona and dad are gone, and they had the bright idea to leave me in charge. Live with it.”

  “You don’t get to decide when I can date.”

  “Yes, I do,” Emma said. “You’re fourteen, and that’s way too young for…whatever you were doing in the parking lot. Besides, Ricky is too old for you.”

  “He’s not even eighteen yet,” Imogene muttered. “That’s only three years.”

  “Three years is a lot at your age, especially when he’s probably more experienced than you. You’re in a vulnerable place right now, and I don’t want some little jerk taking advantage of you.”

  “He’s not a jerk,” Imogene ground out. “He’s one of the most popular boys in school, and he noticed me! He isn’t taking advantage of me. Ricky likes me.”

  “Sure he does, until he gets what he wants,” Emma returned. “Then he’ll move on to score with the next freshman girl he can get. I’ve seen that type before, and he’s bad news.”

  “Ricky isn’t like that.”

  “He’s exactly like that.”

  “You don't even know him!”

  “Whose fault is that?” Emma countered. “I don’t want you seeing him anymore.”

  They’d made it to Paige’s school by now, which meant Emma and Imogene couldn’t continue arguing. Emma could feel the waves of hostility rolling off her middle sister, though. She was surprised the seat didn’t catch fire from the heat of Imogene’s rage.

  Paige must have sensed the tension the moment she got in the car because she went still. Her gaze darted from one to the other. “What are you guys fighting about now?”

  “We have a difference of opinion, that’s all,” Emma said through gritted teeth.

  “Emma doesn’t want me to date until I’m old and haggard, like she is,” Imogene said at t
he same time.

  Paige glanced at Emma. “You saw Ricky?”

  Emma turned in her seat, surprise flooding through her. “You know about him?”

  “Genie’s always talking to him on her phone,” Paige said, with a shrug. “He sounds stupid.”

  “He is not stupid, you little—”

  “Imogene, shut your mouth, right now,” Emma cut in.

  Imogene gasped. “But she—”

  “I don’t care. We’re not discussing this anymore.”

  Imogene folded her arms and slumped down in the seat, training her gaze out the window. Paige went quiet, too, and the rest of the journey home was made in absolute silence. When they reached home, Paige jumped out right away, probably to escape the seething tension in the car.

  Imogene was slower to get out, but then she leaned down to look inside at Emma. “I hate you!”

  Emma tried not to reel from the angry retort as Imogene slammed the door and stalked toward the house. She was lashing out, but the words still hurt. Emma had been trying so hard, and she’d hoped the Harvest Festival had been a turning point. Obviously, she’d hoped too soon.

  Feeling defeated and discouraged, Emma trudged inside. She went straight to the freezer and pulled out the chocolate chip mint ice cream. She ate the last bite and then threw the carton in the trash. For a moment, Emma stared at the empty container at the bottom of the can. She cursed her father for putting her in this position. Cursed him and Mona for going out that night and getting hit. Cursed fate for deciding she needed to become an instant parent to two girls who didn’t want anything to do with her.

  Then she went upstairs to help Paige get ready for trick or treating.

  Cursing her fate wouldn’t change the situation. Being angry with God and her father wouldn’t change a thing. Right now, they all had to deal…whether they liked it or not.

  Emma didn’t hear another word from Imogene until she walked out of her bedroom wearing the alternative to the “Temptress Witch”. This one was called “Blue Witch” and featured a cute, form-fitting blue dress, with a hem that was cut in several wide V’s to create a pretty fringe. A flowing black cape, black hat, and black half boots completed the ensemble.