by Norah Wilson
That would take one heck of a wish…
Sid crossed the room to the closet beside the vanity, but before she could open the door, Danika said. “Wait!”
“What?”
“Let me get the door for you. I’m a magic sea queen, after all,” Danika pointed the pronged end of the trident at the closet doors, and said, “Abracadabra!”
“Hmm, that didn’t work,” Sid said. “Try spinning around really fast.”
“Okay.” She spun multiple times and the plastic fish rattled up a storm.
As Danika was spinning, Sidney grabbed the knob on the bi-fold door and pulled it open. “Hey, look. It worked!”
She stopped. “It’s magic!”
Danika dissolved in a fit of giggles, and Sidney laughed too. But in her head, the word was still echoing.
Magic.
Obviously, it wasn’t really magic. Sid had opened the door herself and they both knew it. But the word caused her to think about something Scott had told her about that maybe was real magic. Just the memory of it made her shiver.
It was back in August. They’d been fixing the Boisverts’ gazebo. Scott was in charge of hammering the thin sheets of lattice work into place, while Sid was in charge of handing him the tiny nails, one at a time.
As always, he’d told her it was a good thing she was there to help. But as always, it wasn’t all work. They’d talked. She told him stuff; he told her stuff.
There’s this place along the Prince River, Slamm’s Landing.
“That’s a weird name.”
“Well, that’s just what I called it. I came across the place when I was hiking. I must have been sixteen or so.”
“Oh, so back in the day?”
“That’s right; back in the day.” He’d smiled. He always smiled when she said things like that. ‘Back in the day’ or ‘groovy’ or ‘hip’. So she did that a lot. “There’s a big, flat rock on the bank, and the river is really fast there. Rapids, I guess you’d say. And the trees are set back so that you can get a real good look at the sky. When I was young, I used to bike out there in the summer. I’d get up on that rock and look right out over the river.”
“Was it a special spot?”
“Very special. I just knew there was nobody else for miles around. Just me, the river, and the big, blue dome of sky. I loved that feeling.”
“Ever go at night?”
“Yep, a few times on clear, starry nights. Though I shouldn’t have. Looking back, it was dangerous going that far afield in the dark, alone.”
“Ever make a wish there? On the stars, I mean?”
“Sure, I did. It’s the very best place in the world to wish on a star.”
On his cue, she’d passed him a nail, and he’d efficiently hammered another piece of lattice work into place.
“What did you wish for?”
“No way, Sid the Kid! I’m not telling.”
“But it was a long time ago.”
He’d shaken his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed to tell until the wish comes true.”
“Why not?”
“If you tell, it might not come true.”
“Oh my gosh! Is that a sword?” Danika clapped her hands together, but she did so carefully, fingertips splayed away from her palms to protect her inch-long nails.
“Sure is.” Shaking thoughts of Scott away, Sid reached into the closet for the plywood cut-out sword with its black-painted hilt and silver-painted blade. “And that’s just for starters. Wait’ll you see the whole thing.”
Chapter 17
APRIL LOOKED around the Far South Barn. Happy orange pumpkins glowed overhead.
She didn’t know why she was so darn nervous!
Wait. Yes, she did. Before the night was done, half of Harkness would have traipsed through. Not that the party had been all her doing. But it had mostly been.
It was early enough that it was mainly just the littlest kids. Hence, all the lights were on, blazing down on the transformed barn.
They’d gone sooo beyond the small event that had been initially envisioned. She shook her head. She’d actually thought those pumpkin lights were all there was to the decorating.
Ha!
Last night Ember and Jace, Titus and Ocean, and she and Scott had all made their way out to the barn after Jeopardy! to really deck the place out. Titus had brought a case of beer, which the guys and Ocean drank. April wasn’t much of a beer drinker—or a drinker at all. But Ember had cracked open a bottle of wine after the work was done. April had allowed herself a glass. And she’d allowed herself to be happy, to join in on the fun. Relax for an hour. Afterward, she tried to think of another time when she’d enjoyed that kind of camaraderie, but couldn’t dredge up a single instance.
This barn had absolutely come alive last night with laughter and teasing, friendship and love. It really had felt like the walls themselves had pulsed with life, not just from their exuberance as they worked, but from every gathering, party and dance the old barn had housed over the years.
Even now, those walls absorbed the high, excited squeals and laughter of the young ones. If they could talk, she was pretty sure the old boards would be saying the more the merrier!
Her gaze drifted up to the loft. If that loft could talk…
April grinned. And because the only other person who knew the full reason behind the smile on her face was standing right beside her, her grin broadened even more.
“You look happy,” Scott said.
He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.
That was so Scott. He was happy to see her happy. No ulterior motive, just…Scott.
“I was thinking that as nice as the barn looked empty, it looks so much better with the kids, the costumes, the people.”
“Looks alive,” he said.
“Exactly.”
“Well, congrats to you. You set the stage.”
“This is hardly all my doing. You guys did more work than I did.”
“Yeah, but we wouldn’t even be having this party if it wasn’t for you.”
“And Sidney,” she said, looking up at him with gratitude. “This means so much to her, Scott.”
He smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Oh, there’s Ember.” April gave her a wave.
The town’s future doctor had been hectically busy setting up her new office. The shingle was already on the door, a nurse and office staff hired, furniture installed, supplies ordered. In a matter of days, the place would be open for business.
Ember waved back from the dessert table. In her hand she held a small orange paper plate with two pieces of April’s Halloween squares on it. She pointed to the treat and mouthed, “These are to die for.”
Beside Ember, with an assortment of squares on his own plate, Jace gave her the thumbs up.
Mrs. Budaker’s divinity fudge was going fast. A perennial favorite of the townsfolk, April understood that Mrs. B brought it to every gathering. But she was pleased to see that her own chocolate cheesecake bars with their dusting of dark chocolate were equally popular, as were a number of the other standard goodies she’d prepared. But the cheesecake bars were her very own recipe, one she’d never served to a crowd before. To see them disappear so quickly was heartening. She’d so badly wanted to impress, not just the Standishs, but the whole town. It was her turn to shine—or not—under her own name. Not on behalf of the Boisverts, or one of the restaurants she’d worked at. Hello, my name is April Dawn Morgan, and look what I can do.
She liked it a lot more than she could have imagined.
Being around Ember and Ocean had stirred something in her. They’d become fast friends, of course, but it was more than that. Both women had very different but equally lofty goals—Ember with her passion for healing and Ocean with her love of story.
Once upon a time, April had had her own dreams…
“Scott, you old dog! When did you get back in town?”
April looked at the man who’d just spoken
. He stood in front of Scott, wearing a wide, infectious grin.
“Good God, John? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Scott glanced at April. “April, this is John Redstone. John, April Morgan.”
“Pleased to meet you, April.” John extended his hand.
As April shook it, she noted how handsome he was. And just as tall as Scott, just as well-built. Probably a few years older. “Likewise.”
“What are you doing here?” Scott asked. “And out of costume too.”
He chuckled. “My sister’s son.” He nodded toward the boy in the spaceship costume who was currently ladling some eyeballs—peeled green grapes—out of the punchbowl. Then she looked closer. The spaceship cleverly disguised a child-sized wheelchair.
“Is that Bruce?”
“Yup.” John nodded with pride.
“He was barely a year old when I saw him last.”
“He’s five now. And he was hell-bent on coming here tonight. Pamela’s studying, so here I am.”
“Pam still in nursing school?”
“Last year, thank God. She’s worked damned hard.”
Scott turned to April to give a quick explanation. “Bruce’s dad isn’t in the picture. John’s helped a lot with Bruce.”
“Helped? We’re family, bro. That’s how we roll.”
“Speaking of rolling, how’s that new Harley working out for you?”
And they were off, talking about their bikes. She held the sigh inside. Not that she didn’t like Scott’s bike. She did. But when it came to spark plugs and cylinders, she tended to tune out.
Pamela Redstone was a lucky woman, with a brother like John. A family like that. They hadn’t turned their backs on his sister. They’d embraced Bruce.
Ember joined them, having turned the dessert table over to Jace’s care momentarily. “Are you ready to see Sid’s costume?”
Finally! Sid had been working on it in secret, with only Ember privy to what it was. “I can’t wait. Where is she?” April scanned the remaining crowd.
“You have to close your eyes,” Ember said. “She wants to make an entrance.”
As instructed, she closed her eyes tightly.
“You too, Scott,” Ember said. “Keep them closed.”
April heard someone walk up—a couple of someones, actually—and knew it was Sidney and her friend Danika. “Come on, Ladybug,” she said. “I’m dying to see your costume. Can I look now?”
“Okay, then…tada!”
April opened her eyes. “Oh, Sidney!”
There her daughter stood—a shield maiden ready for battle. The cutest shield maiden ever—April was sure of it. She wore a brown approximation of a Norse apron dress, and her hair had been plaited. The thick braids hung down below her Viking hat, complete with horns, which had been fashioned from a plastic popcorn bowl. In one hand she held a painted wooden sword and on her other arm, she bore a shield made from an old hubcap. That was pretty ingenious.
“Whoa, well done!” Scott said.
“A Viking!” April clapped her hands. “Sidney. That’s inspired.”
“I’m not just any old Viking.” She turned around to reveal a patch tacked to her dress with a single word embroidered on it: Minnesota.
“I’m a Viking from Minnesota,” she said, striking a proud shield maiden pose.
Scott chuckled. “Sid, that’s absolutely the best—I mean, hands down best—costume I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s what I told her,” Danika piped up. “Sid’s so creative. Look at the sword!”
“Thank you,” Sidney said. “And you are the most outstanding Sea Queen I’d ever seen!”
“I agree,” a female voice said. “I’d say she looks positively royal!”
April looked over to see Faye Siliker smiling widely. Faye was dressed as an old granny—complete with round, wire-rimmed granny glasses and curly, gray-haired wig over her own sleek, blondish-white hair. Right behind her stood the big bad wolf. A very gray one. Arden.
April put her hand over her mouth to keep a laugh from escaping. A couple’s costume? Could Titus and Scott possibly fail to appreciate the significance?
“Attention, everyone!” It was Ms. Makepeace in her unmistakable teacher voice. “It’s time for the costume contest.”
Scott leaned over to Titus, who’d just ambled over to join them with Ocean on his arm. “Guessing you won’t win, bro.”
Titus laughed. They all did.
“Oh, shoot,” Ember said. “Customers at the dessert table. Looks like Jace could use some help.”
Before April could offer to spell her, Ember zipped across the room to help Jace with the surge.
Then Ms. Makepeace spoke again, drawing April’s attention.
“First, I’d like to thank the Standishs for hosting this party. I know it’s been a long time since the community has had a Halloween party, so thank you for that.” She looked over at April and her crowd. “Thanks, guys. The decorations are beautiful and the food—really superb!”
April smiled back at the teacher. They’d talked a couple of times since she’d taken Sidney to school. The last time they’d spoken, Ms. Makepeace—or Eden, as she insisted April call her—confided how delighted she was about the party. Well, she’d ostensibly called to speak about Sid’s enrichment curriculum, but once that was out of the way, the conversation had turned to the Halloween event. It was something the community needed, she’d said. Some families were feeling the pinch of the economic times. And some kids had no friends to go trick-or-treating with. As if April didn’t like her enough, the young principal had volunteered to look after the costume contest. As soon as Arden okayed the contest, April had given Eden the job.
There was a smattering of applause from adults and children alike, followed by it-was-nothing nods from the throat-clearing Standish menfolk while Ember smiled and waved from her position at the dessert table.
“Let’s follow the same format that was used in the past,” Eden said. “We’ll get all the kids to gather at the front, then we’ll call you up on stage by your grade. Those of you who are home-schooled, come right up when you see your friends. Or just whenever you like.”
“Let’s go!” Sidney said. She and Danika took off toward the front, along with every other kid in the place.
April so hoped Sidney won something. Not that it would be the end of the world if she didn’t place. And not that she was one of those obnoxious parents whose kid had to be the best at everything. But Sidney was so happy. So alive. And she made a damned good Viking.
“For the adult contest,” Eden continued, her teacher’s voice cutting through the din without benefit of a microphone, “we’ve got three judges who’ve volunteered to roam the crowd—and by volunteer, I mean I cornered them and strong-armed them into it. Our judges are Donny Gravelle, Sissy Crocker and Buzz Adams.”
“Chief Adams is blind as a bat,” an unidentified voice called out from the crowd. “Why, he stopped me for speeding last week and I was practically crawling!”
April laughed along with everyone else, even harder still when Buzz called back, “Stop by my office for a ticket tomorrow, will ya, Earl? Save me the trouble of tracking you down.”
Everyone laughed, none louder than a round-faced older gentleman with straw sticking out at the wrists and ankles of his scarecrow costume. Earl, she presumed.
Scott turned to Titus, who had packed all that muscle into a blue long-sleeved shirt and work pants. “So, tell me, bro, who are you supposed to be?”
“I’m a security guard,” Titus answered, gesturing to his duty belt. But instead of a sidearm and a baton, it held a radio, flashlight, and other search & rescue gear. “Can I see your ID, buddy? Are you sure you’re old enough to be drinking that?” He gestured to the plastic cup in his brother’s hand, half full of punch. Nothing alcoholic in it, of course.
“Ask me later,” he answered. “When this shindig is over, I might just crack open a beer. Two if I win best costume in the adult category. You know, to celebrate.”
Ocean rolled her eyes at April. “Lame, lame, lame. Good thing you’re a sport, Arden. Someone had to represent the Standish men.”
Scott and Titus grinned at each other.
Scott himself had gone all out—that’s right, he’d put on a cowboy hat and hauled on some old cowboy boots he probably used for biking. She had to give him points for the lasso, though. He’d braided some twine he’d found in one of the barns into a rope-ish thickness, looped it up, and secured it to his belt. April thought he made a pretty damned hot cowboy.
Ocean was dressed—unmistakably—as Mark Twain, right down to the wrinkles drawn on with a grease pencil, the bushy white hair and mustache, and the unlit cigar she carried. And just in case people didn’t get the hint, she also toted a battered copy of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
Rounding out the Standish peeps, Ember made a beautiful, fiery-haired pirate. Not to be outdone, Jace had dressed as Jack Sparrow, complete with the dreadlocked wig, red bandana, and lavishly applied black eye makeup. She had to admit, the guy could give Johnny Depp a run for his money in the sexy department.
Then there was her own outfit… April ran her hands along the gypsy belt, heavy with its rows of dangling fake coins. It rode on her hips, atop her flashy, floor-length, orange and yellow skirt. She’d tied a matching strip of material—salvaged from hemming the skirt—into her otherwise loose hair. Completing the outfit, she wore a white peasant blouse beneath a tightly laced vest. The vest had been a loose, button-up affair, but had been cut down to size and modified with grommets to facilitate lacing up with a leather thong. And no, she hadn’t done that all herself. Sidney hadn’t been the only one to get a helping hand from Ember.
The effort had so been worth it, though. The look in Scott’s eyes when he’d first caught sight of her in the costume had set her breasts and belly to tingling. Just like they were tingling right now as she looked her fill of him in those boot-cut Wranglers that hugged his butt so faithfully.
He chose that moment to look over at her. The eye contact was electric. Suddenly, it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room. She wanted to move closer, move into his arms. Close enough to inhale his smell, feel his heartbeat.
