Hazel tucked the last few errant strands of auburn into my bob, scraping against my scalp to secure the wig in place. “Ouch!”
She winced. “Sorry, but you’re going to look amazing. I love that this year’s theme for trunk-or-treating is witchy starlets.”
We hadn’t talked about what’d happened yesterday, the vision I’d seen, and I refused to bring it up again. I couldn’t risk her running off. I needed her too much.
“Same,” I said, heading toward the mirror to fluff my ash-blonde locks before adjusting the sleeves of my black shirt. Holding up my phone, I glanced at it once more before fussing with the last few tweaks to my makeup. “How do I look?”
“Like you’d give Kim Novak a run for her money.” Hazel smirked, heading into the nursery. “Now let’s get your little Pyewacket ready to go.”
When the theme had been announced for this year’s neighborhood trunk-or-treat, which always took place on All Hallows Eve, I jumped at the chance to step into the shoes of my favorite movie witch, Gillian Holroyd fromBell, Book and Candleplayed by the glamorous Kim Novak. Too bad magic didn’t exist here back then because she would have made a supreme witch in real life.
I knew instantly that I wanted to go as her, making Aspen my perfect little Siamese cat familiar, Pyewacket.
A moment later Hazel came out with my little witchling, his velvet bodysuit and set of cat ears making me giggle. Luckily, it hadn’t been too complicated of a pattern to wrangle together.
When Atlas told me he’d be around for the holiday and asked what we were going as, he chuckled, knowing how many times I’d forced him to watch the movie about a Greenwich Village witch who puts a love spell on a charming and unsuspecting mortal publisher, played by classic heartthrob James Stewart.
“I’ll be your Shep,” he’d suggested, without missing a beat. “But don’t worry, I won’t get you to fall in love with me.”
Too late for that.
He’d laughed, and I’d tittered along too, my heart threatening to combust with all the emotions I’d overstuffed it with when it came to Atlas. But that was before I mucked everything up. Now, the thought of him showing up here after everything that happened yesterday had my nerves jolting in my belly. I needed to talk to him, but how would I even broach the subject?
Hey, I know you watched Saros eat me like a starved witch at a moonluck and you overheard I’m with Lynx as well. That whole being-in-love-with-me thing really isn’t going to work out too well. And by the way, you really can’t be with me because I’m certain it ends in your death.
Yeah, that didn’t seem like a good conversation starter.
I’d stick with the alternative of silence.
Thedingof our home system alerted us that someone was coming up the drive.
“It’s him,” Hazel notified me, not that I’d thought it would be someone else. Trunk-or-treating didn’t start officially for another thirty minutes.
I inhaled deeply, fussing with my outfit one last time and mentally preparing to spend the next few hours with my ex.
Here goes nothing.
* * *
“Smile for Auntie Haze!”My sister cooed at her nephew, making silly faces and floating a stuffed bat into the air to get Aspen’s attention. “There’s my little witchling.”
His eyes followed the toy, chestnut irises twinkling in wonder as he reached up, pawing for it. He looked adorable in his costume, cat ears pricked up from his tiny head.
Meanwhile, Atlas was dressed in a black suit, very usual for him. The only thing standing out was the black bow tie nestled at his neck, when he normally opted for a dark textured tie. His hair was combed over and sprayed light brown to mimic James Stewart’s character.
Goddess, he is handsome.Seeing him dressed like my childhood classic movie crush wasn’t helping matters much.
Luckily, the perpetual frown on his face lowered his attractiveness level, reminding me of what had occurred yesterday and the conversation I’d need to broach at some point today. Maybe once we’d gotten back home.
“You snap some good ones?” I asked, turning my attention away from my ex and fluffing my bob a few more times.
“Oh yes, definitely.” She lifted her hand a moment, snapping a handful of shots. “Now, Atlas, get in for a few with him.”
She waved him over, pointing to Aspen. Atlas strolled toward us, a smile plastered on his face for his son. Obviously we were both on the same page about doing whatever was necessary to make this magical for his sake.
He picked up Aspen, sitting him on his shoulder and holding on to his tiny fists, looking up. “How cute are they? Like twins!”
They truly were, with the same lips, nose, tan complexion, and almond-shaped eyes. The only thing that differentiated them was that Aspen had somehow gotten my chestnut irises. Otherwise, he was all Dad.
