Page 23 of Pumpkin to Talk About

He’s got me there. I consider before saying, “There are a couple of skeletons that will jump out at you. I’ll steer you clear of those.”

It’s silent for a moment, then he grumbles again. I’ve got him.

“Fine,” he says. “But if anything pops up suddenly, I’m leaving.”

“I’d expect nothing less. You want me to pick you up?”

He hums, as if he’s not sure he wants to say what’s coming next. “I should probably go with Annie and the kids. Since it’s my last night with them.”

“Oh. Right. Okay, then. I’ll see you there.” I let him say goodbye, and then hang up before my voice can betray me any more than it already has.

One thing’s for sure. I’m going to miss Mike when he’s gone.

I try not to dwell on it too much as I get ready to go. The whole point of the last week was to enjoy each other while we can. And we’ve certainly done that. My cheeks heat at the memories of everything we’ve done on this bed. My heart aches at the sweet nothings he whispered to me as we fell asleep, limbs entangled and skin slick with sweat. My brain can’t seem to understand that this has been temporary. He leaves tomorrow, and then my life will go back to normal.

Though, I can’t help but wonder if anything will ever feel normal again.

I shake myself, as if it’s possible to let these emotions out through my feet and fingers. It’s not, but it’ll have to do.

I get dressed as quickly as I can, opting for black leggings, a short-sleeved sweater dress, and my well-worn combat boots. Usually, the kids wear their costumes to these things, but the adults don’t. I’m well aware that my normal clothing choices look costumey, but I’ll fit right into the vibe, anyway.

When I’m as ready as I’m going to be, I leave my house and make my way downtown. A carnival has been added to the mix in one of the church parking lots, and the smell of fresh popcorn hits me as soon as I get close enough to it. Children scream as one of the rides dips precariously, then saves them at the last minute.

It takes me less than a minute to spot Mike where he stands next to Annie at a cotton candy booth. Claire hangs onto one of his hands like she doesn’t want to let him go.

I know the feeling, kid.

As if he senses my eyes on him, he turns around. I wave, and his smile lights up the evening like a crescent moon.

Shit. I am in so much trouble when he’s gone.

The deep breath I take in through my nose is laced with the scent of sickly-sweet, fried dough. I let it out slowly and make my way over to their little foursome.

“Hi, Miss Allen!” Nicholas perks up as I get closer, his painted-on dalmatian nose wiggling with excitement. “I finished that book. Can I get the next one on Monday?”

“Sure thing.” I smile down at him, then turn my attention to Claire. “My, my. What a beautiful butterfly we have here.”

She buries her face in Mike’s side, her wings bobbing with the movement.

“Claire is having a little trouble with Uncle Mike leaving tomorrow,” Annie chimes in.

“I understand,” I say quietly, but I don’t bother looking at Annie when I say it. I’m glued to Mike’s warm, brown eyes, hoping that he understands what I’m trying to say. I don’t want him to go either, even though I know he has to.

His eyes fall to the ground as he squeezes Claire a little closer to him. “Come on, kiddo. You want to do some rides?”

“You hate rides.” Her voice is muffled by the fabric of his jeans. When she shifts her face, she leaves a trail of glitter face paint on his hip.

“I do,” he says. “But I’d go on one for you, if you want.”

She shakes her head, more of her glitter shedding onto his pants.

“I know what might be fun,” I say slyly. She peeks out at me cautiously, intrigued. “Let’s watch your Uncle Mike bob for apples.”

“What? No,” he says quickly, but Claire removes herself from his side with a giant smile.

“Oh, that would be fun.” She hops up and down. “Will you, Uncle Mike?”

“But… water. My hair…” he protests feebly.