by Amie Denman
Henry laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Alice said. “Someone should go over there and tell them they’re not ready to get married if they honestly plan to have wedding rings shaped like skulls and she thinks his newest tattoo looks too much like his ex-girlfriend.”
Virginia and Henry exchanged a glance.
“I’m not making that up,” Alice said.
“That’s what we were afraid of. So,” Virginia asked as she leaned on the railing next to Alice, “why don’t you march over there and tell them either they shouldn’t get married or they deserve each other?”
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t help.”
“You mean they’d do it anyway?” Henry asked.
Alice shook her head. “I think they need a therapist who appreciates their sense of humor and their...”
“Good taste and judgment?” Virginia asked. “Good luck with that.”
“They have almost three weeks until the big day,” Alice said.
Henry nodded. “Plenty of time to get that tattoo altered and special order those unique rings.”
“You can’t help some people,” Virginia said. “You just have to let them make their own mistakes. And not too many people are brave enough to call off a wedding right before it happens.”
Alice sighed.
“Cheer up,” Henry said. “Perhaps they’re getting all their fighting out of the way before they get married and live happily ever after.”
“I better get back over there and see if they’re willing to take my advice against having black icing on their cake,” Alice said. “Unless you want your guests to have black tongues, it’s not the best choice.”
Wedding number twenty on Halloween night was going to be her scariest one yet.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS AND kids wearing Halloween costumes streamed through the front gates for the first ever Starlight Point Community Halloween Party.
To open the party, Jack Hamilton addressed the crowd. “We’re both a trick and a treat,” he said, smiling and charming the large group gathered at the front gates. “And we want to say thank you for helping Starlight Point have another great year.”
Dozens of employees had volunteered to work the afternoon event, and the vendors had opened their stands. Instead of selling hot dogs and fries, though, they were handing out candy in the spirit of the holiday, which was still a couple weeks away.
Alice almost wished she’d worn a costume. She’d loved dressing up when she was a child. Even more than free Halloween candy, she’d loved making a costume with her grandmother. She vividly remembered having coordinated princess gowns with her two sisters in pink, green and blue. She had chosen pink. Both of her sisters lived in different states now, but Alice treasured the picture her dad had taken of the three of them in their princess gowns on the front steps of their house.
She still lived in that house where her unworn wedding gown hung in the spare bedroom’s closet. Maybe it was time for a change.
“I’m here as a grandma tonight,” Virginia told Alice as they walked down the main midway to the first food and activity station.
“I can tell,” Alice said, laughing.
Virginia wore a fairy godmother costume complete with wings and a sparkling tiara. “June fixed me up with this costume,” she explained, “which you could probably already guess from how sparkly it is.”
“I thought so,” Alice said. “And I’m insanely jealous.”
Waving her magic wand, Virginia was surrounded by grandchildren. The oldest, Ross, was nine but still young enough to wear an astronaut costume. He held his little sister’s hand. At almost two, Abigail toddled precariously along the concrete in her princess costume. Her tiara had slid sideways and the purple netting under her skirt stuck out, but she was adorable. Augusta and Jack’s little girl, Nora, held her grandmother’s hand. She was dressed as a cowgirl and wore a big hat she could barely see out from underneath.
Each of Virginia’s grandchildren clutched an orange bucket with the Starlight Point logo on the side. The candy pails were free for local children, and all they had to do was fill it with candy at the food and ride stands along the midway. For parents, it was a fun and safe event, and they could also enjoy a complimentary cup of hot cider and a doughnut or apple fritter.
One of her granddaughters tugged on her hand, and Virginia smiled apologetically at Alice. “Sorry I can’t help out tonight, but I’m the babysitter since my kids are all hosting the party.”
“I think you’re having more fun this way,” Alice said.
“I know I am.”
Alice joined the volunteers handing out suckers from the table in front of the cable cars platform. The air smelled like fall evenings from when she was young. She remembered raking leaves and having a small fire in their backyard with her friends. Nate had come over and they’d sat watching the fire until the stars were bright.
Alice imagined her nieces in costumes and regretted she hadn’t called her sisters to see if a road trip for Halloween was possible. Holidays were more fun with children. At twenty-seven, Alice was beginning to wonder if she’d be the last of the Birmingham sisters to get married. Five years ago, she was in line to be the first.
Out of the darkness, Nate appeared and snapped a picture of a little boy dropping candy into his orange container. He talked with the boy’s mother and wrote something on a notebook he drew from his jacket pocket. When he saw Alice, he walked over to her. “I missed fall nights like this when I lived in Florida.”
“No flannel weather there?” Alice asked, surprised Nate was starting a conversation with a semi-personal comment.
“Only once or twice during the winter. And flannel was probably overkill even at that.” He drew a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “I like the smell of leaves and the cool air.”
Was that why he chose the damp forest smell for his soap or cologne? Did it remind him of home?
“I was just thinking about that,” Alice said. “How much I like autumn.”
He leaned on the staircase leading to the platform of the cable cars. Night insects swirled around him as he took a few more pictures. His camera flash lit up kids in colorful costumes from a distance. A little girl in a bunny costume stopped for candy, and a boy wearing a green dinosaur creation bumped into her. They both laughed and held out their orange buckets.
“My favorite costume as a kid was a sheriff’s outfit,” Nate said. “I had a real badge I borrowed from my uncle, but he wouldn’t let me use his gun. I pretended my orange plastic one was real anyway. I think I shot every tree, mailbox and squirrel in the neighborhood that night.”
“Does your uncle still live in Bayside?”
Nate nodded. “But he’s retired now and spends the winter in Florida. He’s leaving next week.”
Alice handed out candy and complimented children on their costumes. She wanted to ask about Nate’s father and whether his doctors thought he would make it through a long cold Michigan winter, but she was afraid to throw an obstacle in the middle of the conversation—a friendly and unfettered one for once.
“My sisters and I had matching princess costumes one year,” she said, “but I was pretty fond of my mermaid costume. I had to take really tiny steps because of the tail.”
“That’s the fun part,” Nate said. “Taking risks for free candy. Is this more fun than organizing weddings?” he asked.
“Less complicated,” Alice admitted. “It involves pageantry and planning, but children know exactly what they want and their demands are simple. And there aren’t usually disagreements and sticky situations unless somebody doesn’t want to trade candy.”
The tiny steps she’d taken in that mermaid outfit seemed like huge leaps compared to the mincing steps she and Nate were taking toward the one thing they didn’t want to talk about. Alice took a breath and resolved
to take a chance on honesty. They were adults. College graduates. Not uncertain youths driven by hormones, emotions and public opinion. What if she came out and asked him if he would be willing to talk about where they had gone wrong?
Unless he had changed drastically, he’d run away dodging pumpkins and candy buckets.
“Speaking of difficult situations, I heard about the Halloween couple with the skull rings and tattoos,” Nate said.
Back to small talk, when what they really needed was something life-sized.
Alice leaned over the table and handed a girl a pink sucker. “I love your superhero costume,” she told the girl. Alice turned her attention back to Nate. “I’m surprised you heard about the wedding couple from the dark side.”
“Henry told me you were wrangling some tough customers in the Wonderful West.”
She shrugged and handed out three more suckers. “The good news is they fought with each other instead of turning on me. I thought that was a temporary win.”
“Tell me their wedding does not involve the train.”
Alice laughed and looked up. Nate was smiling broadly and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. This surface conversation was nice and Alice wanted to enjoy it, but she was fooling herself. She and Nate weren’t friends, and she was kidding herself by pretending they could be.
If Alice was interested in putting on a happy face and living a lie, she would have married Nate five years ago.
“No, it doesn’t involve the train. And if I had my way, I’d force them to postpone their wedding until they can agree on balloons and frosting. I’d say their marriage doesn’t stand a chance and they should call it off.”
Nate physically flinched and took one step backward. “It wouldn’t be good for you professionally to encourage the loss of business and revenue for Starlight Point.”
His tone sent ripples of anger through Alice, and she knew the small talk was over. “As you found out the hard way, I’ll decide what’s good for me even if someone else doesn’t like it.”
* * *
“MIND IF I join you?” Henry asked as he strode alongside Virginia. He hadn’t planned to impose upon her family time, but he couldn’t resist. Virginia’s long blue-and-silver gown sparkled in the lights and he wanted to be close enough to see if the blue matched her eyes. “I noticed you have your hands full.”
“In the best way,” she said, smiling at her grandkids. “But you can come along with us in case somebody gets tired of walking.”
“They look like they’re going strong, but I’d love to team up with you. I look silly at this event by myself.”
Henry opened his hands as an offer to pick up either Nora or Abigail, but they both shook their heads and shrank back toward their grandmother.
“It’s a shy age,” Virginia said. “Nothing personal. They’ve never seen you before.”
Henry had seen them from a distance but always in a crowd. They probably didn’t view him as a friend of their grandmother, and the thought made him feel oddly left out.
“Good thing I didn’t wear the costume I planned,” he said. “It might have scared them.”
Virginia laughed and Ross looked interested. “What was your costume gonna be?” Ross asked.
“Airline pilot. Wings and all.”
“Cool,” Ross said. “But not scary, even to girls. Is it a real pilot’s uniform?”
“Yes. I used to wear it almost every day.”
“Why didn’t you wear it tonight?”
Henry smiled. “Believe it or not, I was afraid I was too old and people would laugh at me.”
“Grandma wore a costume,” Ross said. “And no one laughed at her.”
“You’ve got me there. I guess your grandmother is much braver than I am, and she has a much better costume.”
“Who says it’s a costume?” Virginia asked. “Maybe I am a fairy godmother.”
Ross laughed, took both girls by the hand and walked up to the candy station at the loading platform of the Silver Streak, leaving Virginia and Henry alone but watching from close by.
“I thought you might be working tonight,” Virginia said. “Or volunteering is more like it.”
“I did for a while. I helped set up and hauled big bags of candy to all the stations, but they don’t need me right now. I’ll stick around and clean up, though.”
“It’ll be a late night for you.”
“Not that late,” Henry said, inching closer to Virginia. “After you finish grandma duty, how about having a glass of wine with me downtown? I keep hearing about a nice wine bar down by the water, but it doesn’t seem right to go in there by myself.”
Virginia glanced at her grandchildren, who were slowly making their way back from the candy line. “I don’t know. It may be a while before I could get away.”
“I’ll wait. The park’s not open tomorrow, so we could live it up and stay out as late as we want,” Henry said.
“Maybe I could call you.”
Henry was about to agree and consider the concession a victory, but loud screaming stopped him. He and Virginia snapped their heads to the source of the crying and Virginia started running toward her granddaughter who’d gotten tangled in her dress and fallen on the concrete midway. They rushed to her side and Virginia picked her up and held her close.
“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “Did you scrape your knee?”
“I tried to hold on to her hand,” Ross said. “But she started running to get back to you.”
Henry felt helpless and guilty. Virginia had been distracted talking to him. He was trying to set up a date, thinking only of spending more time with her.
“Don’t worry, Ross, little kids surprise you all the time,” Virginia said. “Your stepmother was one of the worst, always dancing away from me when I least expected it.”
June raced up out of nowhere and took her daughter from her mother. The little girl started crying all over again as Ross explained what happened.
“Sorry, June,” Virginia said. “I took my eyes off her for one second.”
June laughed. “It’s the dress. She hasn’t yet mastered the art of being graceful in a costume. That’ll come with time.” June held her daughter on one hip and carried her candy bucket in the other hand. “I’ll take her on a round of candy stops for a few minutes and then I’ll bring her back. She’ll forget all about it. Want me to take the other kids, too?”
June flicked a glance between Henry and Virginia as she asked.
“Not at all,” Virginia said quickly.
Henry felt as if he was a burglar lurking and listening to a family dinner while hiding in the broom closet. He’d distracted Virginia and put her in a sticky situation. Little kids fell down all the time, he didn’t need to be a dad or a grandfather to know that. But Virginia had stiffened toward him in the last two minutes. Did she feel guilty because she was talking to him instead of watching the kids?
He wanted to renew his offer of a late night wine date, but he felt selfish and awkward bringing it up.
“See you tomorrow,” Virginia said as she gave him a quick smile and walked away, holding hands with her two grandchildren.
He turned and headed for a small shed where extra trash cans were stored. It was never too early to start cleaning up the mess from the party.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I ALMOST WISH the Hamiltons had said no when I asked permission to close part of the Western Trail for this wedding,” Alice told Haley. “I made a big effort to sell the idea as something special and once-in-a-lifetime, and it was one of the first weddings we booked.”
“Maybe it’ll be fine. Everyone’s in the holiday spirit.”
“If it goes badly, there will be far too many witnesses—the park will be open during the ceremony.”
“What are you worried about?” Haley asked. “You’ve done all the prepara
tion you usually do. Every single detail is planned.”
“Everything we can predict is planned. And while the unpredictable things can be the fun part—usually—about weddings, they can also be the nightmares you see on social media.”
“Spooky wedding goes to the devil,” Haley said, making big air quotes with her fingers.
“No,” Alice moaned. “I should have listened to my gut instincts about this couple and told them to get married in a graveyard somewhere or, better yet, not get married at all.”
Haley narrowed her eyes. “If they aren’t right for each other, how did they get this far? They’re pledging a lifetime of commitment in only a matter of hours.”
Alice felt a familiar stab of regret. “I think they got caught up in the event itself. Halloween is one of the areas where they connect, with their shared love of the maudlin and grotesque. What if the ceremony and the fun of planning it is half their motivation for getting married in the first place? Then they’re really in trouble.”
Haley shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone getting so swept along in party planning that they’d marry someone they didn’t really want to marry in the first place.”
Alice sighed. “It happens. Believe me. Some brides want the fairy tale and if they sample enough cake and try on enough dresses, it will make Mr. Wrong turn into Mr. Right.”
“That’s the most cynical thing I’ve ever heard you say. You’re brutally honest,” Haley said, “but this is crazy talk coming from the woman who organizes those tastings and fittings.”
Alice considered telling Haley her big secret, but there was already too much drama in the air. Haley would ask for details, and that would be a dangerous foray into things she was better off not bringing up right before a major Starlight Point event. And if Haley asked questions about the groom himself...what would she say?
Nate was affable and well liked. Telling his coworkers he had been emotionally distant, kept his feelings under guard and she hadn’t been sure he loved her would not go over well. Especially if she said the truly nuclear thing—that she had loved him too much to marry him if she couldn’t be assured of having his entire heart.
