I didn’t reply. I just smiled and nodded and hoped he had no idea how I’d woken up this morning.
I wasn’t sure if Ben remembered Lights Out, but I suspected he didn’t. He’d never called me by my name, which made me believe he didn’t know it. I wasn’t sure he knew we went to high school together at all. I seriously doubted he remembered a twenty-minute make-out session from fifteen years ago. You could bet your ass I wouldn’t ever ask him either.
“You guys going to the Hurrah tonight?” he asked.
The Merriam Elementary School’s annual Halloween Hurrah was a fundraising event held every Halloween evening after trick-or-treating. It was a night of games and food and costume contests. Last year’s Hurrah had been tons of fun, and I’d been looking forward to going again. I’d be a lying shit if I said I hadn’t wondered if Ben and Olive would be there, too. And I may have fantasized about being accidentally locked in a dark closet with him, but the fantasy was always ruined when I wondered who was watching our kids while we had some fun in the dark. Oh, the troubles of being a single parent.
“Yes,” I answered. The girls were skipping together about four feet ahead of us. They had become fast friends when we started these walks together. “We’ll be there after trick-or-treating. You guys going?”
He put a hand to his chin and rubbed his beard. I’d never had a thing for bearded men before. When the look started to come back in style, I’d had my reservations about it. But he pulled off the beard about as well as Justin Timberlake did. And that was really, really well.
“Yeah, I was planning on it. Are you trick-or-treating close by?”
This was already like four sentences past our norm. He must have been feeling extra chatty today. “We live on Orchard. We usually do about three blocks up and down. It’s a good street. Lots of full-size candy bars usually.”
“Oh. Full size. That’s impressive,” he said, and rubbed his beard again. “Hey, um, maybe the girls would like to trick-or-treat together?” It was a suggestion, but he said it like it was a question.
He probably had a date and wanted me to take Olive with us so he didn’t need to look for a babysitter. Whatever. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like I really had a chance with the guy anyway. I wasn’t even sure I wanted a chance.
I’d thought about it, dating. A lot. But it had been so many years since I’d been with anyone but Will, and I didn’t think I was ready for that. I thought that might be the reason I’d developed a crush on someone so far out of my league — because I knew there was no chance of anything coming of it. For me, it was just a past time, just a crush, a reason to do my hair and put on some makeup before school once a week. That was it.
“Sure,” I said. “Lucie will love that. I don’t mind taking Olive with us.”
“Oh, um, okay. I was thinking I could come, too. Do you mind taking me with you?”
He smiled at me then. It was a playful smile, the kind usually exchanged between people who knew each other, people who teased each other. Had we become friends somehow through all of these silent walks?
“Oh!” I said, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah. I just thought, I mean. I thought you maybe had something else to do.”
“Nothing other than trick-or-treating and bobbing for apples.”
I cringed and hoped he didn’t notice. Bobbing for apples, AKA bobbing for bacteria, was the most disgusting thing at the Halloween Hurrah. Dozens of people sticking their mouths into the same tub of water? During flu season no less? And people thought this was okay?
Ben lowered his voice and nodded his head toward Olive. “I only get her half the week. I won’t miss out on that time for anything.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. I mean, of course you wouldn’t.” Geez. Could I form a complete sentence sometime today? P.S. I was totally swooning right now over this doting-daddy. And he was totally forgiven for mentioning the bobbing of apples.
“So it’s set then,” he said. “We’ll take the girls trick-or-treating. Then we’ll head to the Hurrah together. Sound good?”
We? Was this a date? Or a playdate? Did he just ask me out? Was I ready for that? I knew Will wouldn’t want me to waste too much time being the girl with the dead husband. I knew he would have wanted me to move on much sooner if he had a choice.
“Sounds good. The corner of Orchard and Pine at five-thirty then?”
“Deal. But why don’t you give me your number in case I get lost?”
If I was thirteen, I would have squealed and jumped up and down right on the spot. But I was thirty, so I would wait until I got home.
7:58 A.M.
Just as I expected, the school was a sea of purple and turquoise when we arrived. I waited for an ice pond to crystallize before me, and the students to start ice skating across it to the tune of a catchy song.
And just as I expected, the Fucker Mothers’ daughters were all in expensive, custom-made Elsa costumes, including lots and lots of tulle, glitter, and rhinestones. Vanessa’s daughter had a perfect crown braid in her blonde hair. Shauna had gone even further and mastered the waterfall braid for her daughter’s hair. Show off. I tried not to feel unworthy.
And just as I expected, the Halloween-themed Bento Boxes were filled with candy corn colors and spooky-shaped foods. Oh, and sushi shaped like pumpkins. If it wasn’t a food being shaped like sushi, it was sushi being shaped like another food.
And just as I expected, I heard nastiness coming from their mouths as the four of us walked past them.
“Oh, look who decided to brush her hair this morning.”
“She walked to school in four-inch heels? Who does that?”
“Someone desperate for attention. It’s no different than the woman who wears heels to the grocery store.”
“Does she wear heels to the grocery store?”
“Nah. I bet she wears those faded yoga pants with the stretched-out waistband. She wouldn’t bother dressing up unless Mister Joint Custody was going to be there.”
“Ha. So cute.”
9:04 A.M.
I had just sat down in my cubicle and logged in to my computer when my cube-neighbor, Nancy, popped up and stuck her head over the wall between us. This kind of behavior was not acceptable in rest rooms, and I wished the rule would carry over to work time, also — if only for their own benefit. I mean, nobody looked good from such a high angle.
“Happy Halloween,” she said, as she handed me a little tulle sack tied with orange and black ribbons. It was filled with Hershey’s Kisses and reminded me of the kind of favor you’d see at a bridal shower filled with butter mints. Mmm, butter mints. Why were showers the only time we were treated to such goodness?
“Thanks,” I said, accepting the sack of candy with gratitude. Bad angle or not, it was chocolate.
“And this,” she said, handing me the lottery kit. Once a week someone from the office went to the convenience store and bought a bunch of lottery tickets. We all threw $2 into an envelope for our chance to win.
Look, I knew the odds, okay? I knew I was probably more likely to fall off a cliff while taking a selfie, than winning millions of dollars in a multi-state lottery. But, in the slim, slim chance that one of those tickets was a winner, I couldn’t bear to be the only asshole left working here. So I put in my two bucks, just like every Friday.
Then I looked at the digital clock on my desk and counted how many minutes of suffering between now and trick-or-treating. I knew I shouldn’t get too ahead of myself. We could have a great time tonight. But that didn’t mean I had any kind of future with him — or that I even wanted one. Yeah, he was sexy, smart, responsible, and a good dad by all appearances. But there were other, very important, things I didn’t know about him. And I needed to get some answers before I started embroidering towels with our initials. For all I knew he could be the kind of person who went to the grocery store without a list. Or a guy who sprayed Febreeze on his bedding and considered it clean. Maybe he went to a tanning booth and took selfies in the bathroom mirror. I knew there were many things that could break this deal. But when I thought about that night in the dark, all I wanted him to do was make it.