“In my car,” I tell her. “I’m changing into it when I go trick-or-treating.”
“You’re going trick-or-treating?”
“My niece is,” I answer. “It’s her first Halloween, and we’re all dressing up.”
“Aw, that’s cute.”
We’ve been seeing people in the ER and throughout the hospital celebrate all day. Passing out candy, dressed in their variety of costumes, setting out decorative pumpkins and friendly ghosts to set the mood.
“What about you? Are you taking the kids trick-or-treating?” I ask.
“Are you kidding?” She shoots me an eye roll, evidence she’s had her fill even though the festivities don’t start until the sun goes down. “It’s all they’ve been talking about. ‘Is it Halloween yet? How many days until Halloween? Can I wear my costume to bed?’ They’ve been driving me up the wall.”
I laugh at the image of Jayne wrangling her twin girls, seven and full of curiosity and sass, bombarding her with all the questions in the world. I’m sure the only break she’ll get is after the new year, once Santa has come and gone.
It’s almost quitting time, and I’m excited to see Avery in her costume. I already told Andrew I’d be out with my sister, and a part of me wishes he could come too. Partake in the Halloween fun and dress up in something to match my own witch costume. Like a wizard or a warlock. Or maybe we could even go all out and put together a whole couple’s costume like Barbie and Ken or Fred and Wilma. Even though Andrew said he’d be busy with a night of deliveries, I know if I invited him to come along, he’d drop all of that in a heartbeat. But right now doesn’t feel like the right time to be introducing him to Jade and Trevor.
I follow Jayne out, walking past another wall of Halloween decorations reminding us of our impending plans.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jayne calls out as she slips into her car.
“Bye!” I respond. She’s out of the parking lot at record speed. Meanwhile, I’m tapping out a quick message to Andrew to let him know I’m heading to Jade’s.
A response comes instantly with a picture of him and Buster. He’d gotten Buster the cutest bumble bee costume, and he managed to slip it on him. Buster has his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and the floppy antennae are hanging on for dear life over his head. The little selfie with Andrew’s own smilemakes my heart melt into a puddle. Instead of texting him back with some cheesy emoji like a smiley face with heart eyes, I call him.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he answers, sounding delighted at the sound of my voice. “I thought you were heading over to Jade’s.”
“I am,” I tell him. “I just wanted to tell you that the picture you just sent me is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”
A low chuckle rumbles through the line. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. In fact, I think I just found my new lock screen.”
“Really? That cute, huh? You aren’t worried people might see it? Ask you who that handsome man on your phone is?”
I gnaw on my lower lip, considering what sounds like a dare. A playful challenge I hope to win. “I know,” I finally say, still sounding a bit unsure.
“And…you’re okay with that?”
I shrug, pushing aside the fact that he can’t see me. “Maybe?” I tell him.
“Okay. I like ‘maybe.’ I can work with ‘maybe.’”
“I think so too,” I admit. It feels like a whoosh of air expelled from my lungs.
“I guess I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” I answer, excitement rattling my insides. “I won’t be too long.”
“Make sure to save me some candy.”
“I will.”
We hang up, and all the words, the boldly spoken ones and the nervously held back ones, swim in my head. There might be a hundred things we need to hurdle over before our relationship looks anything like what a typical relationship should be, but we’re headed there. And who’s to say what we have isn’t ideal? Sure, it may be somewhat of the atypical variety with so much of it left in limbo, but I’ve never felt more secure than I do when I’mwith Andrew. It isn’t our fault the circumstances of everything are working against us.
I get into my car, excited to see my sister and Avery but also excited to hurry home to Andrew at the end of the night. I jam my key into the ignition to turn it, but instead of the sure sound of the engine being brought to life, I’m met with a listless chug as my car fails to start.
