Was it one of those invisible illnesses that were so difficult to diagnose but could cause unexplainable pain for a lifetime? The very thought made her shudder. On Monday, she would go for an MRI to make sure she didn’t have a brain tumor or something similarly horrifying. And as for being put inside that tube for the test? Well, she wasn’t letting herself think about it. Not yet.
“Good.” Nicole touched her shoulder. “Look, I know this party’s a big deal for you, but if you’re not feeling well, just tell me, okay? Dana and the other girls from the spa can totally hold down the fort if you need to rest.”
“I’m fine, Nic, honest. There’s no way I’m missing my own Halloween party.” Jessica had spent the whole day at the spa getting things ready, coming home only long enough to get dressed, and now she was itching to get back there and oversee the final details.
“Let me just get my purse,” Nicole said as she bent to pick up a bag that looked like a severed arm.
“That’s disgusting,” Jessica said with a huge grin.
“I know.” Nicole pretended to gnaw on the arm as they walked out to the car.
“First time I spent Halloween with your family, I knew Nic and I were meant to be,” Dennis said as he slid behind the wheel. “Y’all are seriously disturbed, and I love it.”
That Halloween had been the moment when Jessica was sure her sister had found the right man too. Any man who jumped so enthusiastically into the Flynn Halloween festivities was definitely a keeper.
Her mind flitted to Mark and his hesitance—even as a teenager—to join in the fun. Would he show up tonight? She had a feeling Ethan and Ryan might force him to put in an appearance, but would he dress up? She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him in a costume.
They pulled up outside the spa, and Jessica smiled at the sight. From the grounds behind the building, orange and purple lights filtered through the trees and stage smoke billowed.
Perfect.
Dennis parked, and Jessica hustled straight toward the back patio. Her mom was already there—dressed as Professor McGonagall fromHarry Potter—while her dad wandered through the woods in purple robes and a long white beard as Dumbledore.
“Oh! The Corpse Bride—I love it!” her mom said as she caught sight of Jessica. “And…a zombie? That’s rather unimaginative by your standards, Nic.”
“Not just any zombie,” their dad said as he walked over. “She’s obviously Sophia fromThe Walking Deadafter she’d been bitten in season two.” He gestured at Nicole’s tattered blue T-shirt with a rainbow on the front.
“Thank you.” Nicole looked vindicated.
Jessica left them to make sure everything else was in place. They had various scares staged throughout the surrounding woods, for those brave enough to take a “romantic stroll” through the grounds, and the witches’ brewing station was bubbling up plenty of green beer with dry ice smoke billowing.
“I’m here!” Carly announced, crossing the patio with a large white bakery box in her arms.
“Perfect timing.” Jessica led her to the dessert table.
“I’ve got ghost truffles, spider cookies, zombie brain cupcake bites, pumpkin cupcakes, candy corn Jell-O shots, and witch’s fingers. Sam’s bringing the rest of the boxes.” As she spoke, Carly was already placing desserts onto platters on the table. A Piece of Cake had provided the desserts every year since Jessica had turned the party into a charity event.
The deli would be providing finger foods. It saved her a lot of time and expense on food prep and helped draw a larger crowd at the same time.
“This looks amazing. What are you dressed as?” Jessica asked.
Carly wore a hot pink halter top that accentuated her cleavage and a black miniskirt with fishnet stockings and leather boots. “I’m a groupie. Sam’s a rock star.”
“That’s not a costume,” Jessica protested.
“Oh yeah?” Sam said from behind her. “Would you rather I was incognito?”
Jessica turned, and her breath caught in her throat. In jeans and a black leather jacket with his guitar slung over his shoulder—sunglasses in place despite the evening hour—Sam looked every inch the rock star, andno, she didn’t want him to change a thing. Having him here dressed like that…well, it was the best publicity her party could ever receive.
Things got busy after that. She checked on all the refreshments and made sure Maritza was in place at the front door to sell raffle tickets. The prizes had been donated from local businesses, and all proceeds went to the children’s ward at the hospital.
By seven thirty, the party was hopping. Music was pumping, and people filled the patio, decked out in costumes ranging from a dancing chicken to Emma’s disco ball getup. Jessica’s headache still pulsed dully behind her eyes, but thankfully it hadn’t gotten any worse. With the adrenaline of the party, she could almost forget she didn’t feel well.
She poured herself a cup of punch—the alcohol-free version because of her medicine—and took a sip. On the other side of the patio, she spotted a tall man in a mask, dressed all in black. The Phantom of the Opera. But she didn’t need to see his face, or even the smooth brown skin of his hands, to know the identity of this Phantom. She felt it in the tingle at the pit of her stomach when they locked eyes.Mark.
Unlike the bitter, brooding Phantom of opera fame, this man was kind, warm, and passionate. And just the sight of him made her heart flutter like a hummingbird.
She crossed the patio to him. “You came.”
