Three tote bags loaded with candy were thrust toward me. At the end of the driveway, two adults waited. One had a mug.
A faint memory curled through my head. My mom laughing with my dad. “I bet there’s more than hot cocoa in those cups,” she had said about a group of dads going through a neighborhood with their kids on Halloween.
I hadn’t known what she’d meant at the time. We had covered the same part of Bourbon Canyon each year, and always the nursing home where both sets of my grandparents had spent their last days.
The nostalgia was heavier than normal. I gritted my teeth together and diligently counted out two mini chocolate bars for each girl.
“Thank you!” they belted in unison before running toward the sidewalk.
The parents lifted their mug toward me. I dipped my head. I was about to shut the door, but another groupwas making their way toward me. Two adults and three kids.
Shit. I would have to get another bag. Did I shut the door? Tell them to wait? Ruin Autumn’s reputation by giving them only one piece of chocolate?
The boy who sprinted up the steps seemed vaguely familiar with his height and how he carried himself, but with the white-and-black makeup on his face, I couldn’t place him. A little girl skipped up the steps behind him, and a toddler was rushing to catch up. The parents didn’t hang back either. The stoop wouldn’t be big enough for all of them.
The older boy grinned at me. “Aunt Autumn always has the best candy.”
My stomach knotted. Tate’s family. I glanced over the boy’s head to find steady brown eyes watching me. Tate wasn’t dressed up. He wore a Copper Summit hoodie and a ball cap. He’d look like any other guy if it weren’t for the beard and the way he carried himself. His stance said he was in charge. Always.
“Chance, right?” I caught Tate’s surprise in my periphery. He must not have thought I’d cared enough to remember his kids’ names.
“Yep.” He grinned. “I’m Beetlejuice tonight.”
“I’m a pincess,” Brinley announced.
What was a pincess? How did I make conversation with a kid when I couldn’t interpret their words? Then she dipped into a curtsy.
Oh. “Do you have a castle, princess?”
“Nuh-uh.”
The littlest one, Darin, shoved between them and darted past me. I just watched him run. He yelled some word I couldn’t make out.
“Darin,” Scarlett and Tate called. Scarlett tried to crest the stairs. She was in a yellow dress that I should be able to place, but my knowledge of children’s characters was sorely lacking. The two older kids wouldn’t budge for her.
“No worries.” Autumn appeared. She had Darin on her hip. “Let me grab the second bag of candy. Come on in.”
Tate watched me, evaluating my reaction.
“Autumn’s house is usually our last stop,” Scarlett explained, sounding almost apologetic.
“By all means.” I stepped to the side. Chance and Brinley charged in.
Scarlett scooted past me.
Tate managed not to shoulder me, but he looked like he wanted to. “James.”
“Bailey.”
A trio was coming up the sidewalk, two adults holding a baby in a bumblebee costume. As they got closer, I recognized Myles and Wynter.
Autumn had failed to mention Halloween was a goddamn family reunion.
“There’s Uncle Gideon,” Wynter cooed. “Can you wave to Uncle Gideon?” I was pinned with big blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes. Elsa’s puffy black antennae flopped around when she waved.
Uncle Gideon.
Uncle.
