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Her entire face brightened. “Thank you! And thank you for helping with everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

I had spent a little over three thousand dollars helping with the last-minute decorations, extra catering, additional staff, and a few other things Willow suddenly decided the party could not survive without. Normally, I would have fussed more, but seeing the turnout, I couldn’t even complain.

It had been worth every penny.

Since the party begun, Willow had been bouncing from one ridiculous idea to the next, but the moment she climbed onto the little platform near the DJ booth with a large black bowl tucked under one arm, I knew whatever she had planned was about to be foolish.

“All right, everybody, shut up for a second!” she yelled over the music.

A few people booed just to mess with her.

Willow pointed into the crowd. “And if any of you single ladies just booed me, I hope the name of the person you pick for this next game has bad credit.”

That got everybody laughing.

I shook my head from where I stood near the bar.

Earlier, Willow had made every single man at the party write his name on a slip of paper and drop it into the bowl. She refused to explain why, which should have been everybody’s first warning. Now she had all the single women gathered around the front of the room while the men stood nearby looking suspicious.

Willow lifted the bowl. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Halloween Husband!”

The room erupted.

One of the men yelled, “Hell nah! I ain’t participating in that!”

Willow immediately pointed at him. “Oh, yes the hell you are! Your name is already in this bowl, sir! You should’ve read the imaginary terms and conditions before you came through the door.”

I burst out laughing.

She continued, fully committed now. “The rules are simple. Every single woman pulls one name, and whoever you pull is your husband for the remainder of Halloween. That means until midnight, that is your man.”

A woman near the front raised her hand. “What if I don’t like who I get?”

“You better learn to love him quickly.”

Everybody laughed again.

“No exchanges,” Willow added. “No returns. No switching husbands with your friends because hers got better teeth. No secret trades in the bathroom, and absolutely no divorces before midnight.”

Someone yelled, “What if he gets on my nerves?”

“Marriage counseling is by the punch bowl.”

The room lost it.

Willow wasn’t finished. “And fellas, don’t get excited. Being a Halloween husband does not automatically entitle you to sex, money, food, a ride home, access to anybody’s Netflix password, or a place to stay after midnight. This marriage expires at twelve-oh-one, and some of y’all need to be ready to vacate immediately.”

Even the DJ started laughing.

The game started, and it was even more ridiculous than I expected. One woman pulled a man she had apparently been avoiding all night and screamed so loudly the entire room turned toward her.

Willow clutched her chest. “See? The universe has spoken.”

“The universe is a bitch!”

“No disrespecting your mother-in-law!”