Chapter 29
On Saturday, I’m not sure who’s more amped up: me or Evie.
Her texts to me have become increasingly deranged, yelling about the price of black balloons, do we have enough plastic spiders,
and if she should run and get a wig for her costume or continue with her plan to tease up her real hair.
She’s going as the Bride of Frankenstein and Eddie’s going as Frankenstein. Originally he wanted to paint his face and hands
green, but Evie begged him not to. (I can’t have sex for the first time when my boyfriend is covered in green face paint, she texted me.) So he’s wearing a suit with shoulder pads and a plastic green cap with Frankenstein-style hair.
The plan is that after she puts the finishing touches on Eddie’s basement, Evie’s going to come over to my house to get ready.
Since the only thing Luke has to do is put on a hockey mask, he’ll meet us around eight, and then we’ll head over to Eddie’s
early so we can be the first ones there.
I’ve decided to do a more vintage version of Little Red Riding Hood to match Mom’s dress. Last night I watched approximately
four hours of YouTube instructional videos on how to create glossy, Great Gatsby–esque finger waves. I’m going to sweep my hair to one side and wear the curls down. According to the internet, I need clips, gel, a good curling iron, and patience. Lots of it.
I’ve been at it for over an hour and I’ve only done half my head when Evie arrives with an old wedding dress she found at
Goodwill, using a black trash bag as a garment bag.
“Hot damn,” she says, hanging her dress up in my closet. “Your hair is going to look so good.”
I suck on my pointer finger, which is the site of the third burn I’ve given myself during this process. “If I ever finish.”
“Want me to do the back?”
“Are you sure? It’s a steep learning curve.”
She motions with her hands as if to say, “Gimme.”
I’ve only shown her half of one five-minute video when she says, “Got it.”
And she does. She finishes the rest of my head in fifteen minutes. She’s so good at this kind of stuff.
“There. Done.” We both look at my hair in the mirror. My curls are pinned up to set so it looks like I have a short bob, ending
right under my ears. Evie stands behind me and we both consider my reflection. “You know, you’d look great with short hair.
Your neck looks a million miles long.”
“Someone hide the scissors,” I say.
She laughs. “No pressure, obviously!”
Though as I help her rip little portions of her wedding dress and rub charcoal on it for a spooky effect, I sneak peeks of
myself in the mirror and I don’t hate what I see.
Once we spray on a temporary gray stripe and get Evie’s hair pointing straight up from roots to ends, which took an astonishing amount of teasing and hair spray, we start on our makeup.
We’re both sitting on the floor wearing bathrobes, and Evie and I can’t stop catching each other’s eyes in the mirror and giggling.
“I can’t believe you’re going to have sex for the first time with your hair like that. Wearing a wedding dress.”
“I always knew I wanted to lose my virginity on my undead wedding night,” she jokes. She has on false eyelashes now, along
with dramatic smoky black eye makeup that looks incredible on her. “But maybe I should have gone with the wig.”
“No,” I say as I apply foundation. “It’s perfect.”
“At least I’m wearing one thing that’s sexy.” She pulls aside her robe to reveal a flash of blue lace.
“It’s something blue!” I say, and we both laugh.
Right as I’m finishing my makeup, Evie gets a call from Eddie. He’s at the liquor store with Victor and Victor’s cousin, who’s
a junior in college. He offered to get us alcohol if we paid him a hundred bucks, which a couple of us chipped in together
on.
“Can you get dry ice? I need it for one of the specialty drinks! No, we can’t only have beer.
It’s for the witch’s brew punch. I already got the plastic cauldron for it.
Yes, I do need the dry ice to make it! It’s an integral part of the overall effect!
” She covers the phone with one hand and says to me, “I’ll be right back. I have to talk some sense into Eddie.”
I watch her go. Maybe she should be a party planner.
While she’s gone, I take out the pins and brush out my curls—my hair cascades down my back in soft, shiny waves—and slip on
the red silk dress, and the red velvet cape. I look at myself in the mirror. My skin looks luminous from careful layers of
foundation and highlighter, and my lips are fire-engine red. I look . . . beautiful. Still, I turn my face to the side and
touch the bridge of my nose.
“Wow.”
I look over my shoulder. Luke’s standing in the doorway to my bedroom, wearing black jeans and a black cashmere hoodie. His
eyes are intent on me. “You should dress up as Little Red Riding Hood more often.”
I do a spin. “You like it?”
“I do,” he says, coming in. “Speaking of—”
Only now do I notice he’s got a crumpled Spirit Halloween plastic bag with him. He pulls out a mask and holds it out for me
to see. Looking closer, I see that it’s a wolf mask.
“I thought it would be more fun for us to match. Jason and Little Red Riding Hood? Random as hell. The Big Bad Wolf and Little
Red Riding Hood? Iconic.”
He puts on the wolf face mask to show me, carefully pulling the cheap plastic band over the back of his head. Black and white,
the plastic is etched with deep grooves. It’s more of a masquerade than a full-face mask.
“What do you think?” He pulls up his hood to hide his hair. “Am I anonymous enough?”
“You can still see your lips,” I say stupidly. “You have very recognizable lips.”
He takes a step toward me, the corners of those recognizable lips pulled up in the ghost of a smile. “I do?”
“Yes.” I don’t know what else to say, so I turn back to the mirror and smooth my dress.
He slips off the mask and tosses it on my bed. “Oh, hey. Before I forget. The last of what I owe you.” From his pocket he
pulls out a small, folded piece of paper and hands it to me.
It’s a check. I unfold it. It’s the rest of my fee for helping him.
“Wow.” I sit on my bed, hard, still staring at the check in my hands. Receiving this much money for only a few weeks of work
should be sending me to Pluto with excitement. And I am excited. But it also makes me sad. The money was the main reason I
said yes to this. The whole point of our spending so much time together was so Luke could get better prepared for his role.
But now . . .
Luke’s watching me, his brows knitted together in a worried way. “What’s wrong?”
I fold the check in half and lean over to put it away in the drawer of my nightstand, where I’ve been keeping the other one.
“Nothing. I’m just sorry it’s over.”
I smile at him, but there’s no way my eyes don’t betray at least a shadow of what I’m feeling.
“Cee,” he says softly, taking a step toward me.
“Okay, party people!” Evie bursts into the room. She stops short. “Shit. Sorry. You seem like you were talking about something serious.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Nothing serious. What’s up?”
“Holy shit, look at you. Stand up and give Mommy a spin.”
I laugh and do as she says.
“This girl is red hot. Right, Luke?” Evie asks innocently.
“She’s a smokeshow,” Luke agrees.
Luke and I go downstairs to wait while Evie gets her wedding dress on.
Mom’s on her laptop at the kitchen table, and gasps when she sees me. She pulls down her reading glasses. “Oh, Claire! You
look beautiful!”
“Thank you, thank you,” I say, embarrassed she’s making such a big deal of it.
“When does the party start? How are you getting there?”
“I can drive if you don’t need your car,” I offer. “I’m not planning to drink.”
Mom closes her computer and stands up. “Not planning to drink and not drinking are two very separate concepts.”
“Did you drive over here?” I ask Luke.
He shakes his head. “Ubered. A friend is borrowing my car for the night.”
“I’ll drive the three of you,” Mom says decisively.
She’s letting me go to an unchaperoned party where it’s obvious there will be alcohol, and she’s letting me wear her treasured vintage dress. I’m not going to push the envelope beyond that. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Oh, honey,” she says. “You truly look so beautiful.”
“Mom,” I say. “It’s just a Halloween party.”
But of course I’m a little bit pleased.
On the way to Eddie’s, Mom is still in a sappy mood. Luke’s in the front seat, on account of his long legs, and Evie and I
are in the back. I wonder if this is all fun and new for him, or if going to a high school party feels juvenile. Maybe both.
Mom keeps glancing back at us in the rearview mirror.
“What?” I ask, when I catch her eyes for the tenth time.
She sighs. “Nothing. I just can’t believe how fast it goes. It feels like yesterday that I was rocking you to sleep as a baby.
And now you’re all grown up. All of you are.”
Evie leans forward. “Luke owns a house, so he’s been all grown up for a while.”
“My mom took care of everything for me,” Luke admits. “I still don’t fully understand the concept of mortgages or lending
rates.”
“I don’t even know what a mortgage is,” I say.
Mom makes a tsking noise. “Remind me to sit you and Nicky down for a ‘life lessons’ talk. I’ll teach you about taxes and adjustable-rate loans.”
Throughout town, trick-or-treaters spill into the streets.
I spy princesses, monsters, vampires, and one incredible homemade jellyfish with LED lights on its tentacles.
Mom has to slow to a crawl on Garibaldi, which is one of the most popular streets in town.
When we finally get to Eddie’s, which has a huge cauldron of candy out front with a sign to take one, Luke puts on his mask and pulls up his hood, even though we’re going to be the first ones there.
“Claire,” Mom calls out her open window, after we’ve all gotten out. “Get an Uber when you’re ready to come home, even if
someone offers you a ride and claims they’re sober. If you or anyone else seems like they’re in trouble, call me. And if anyone
needs a ride but can’t get one, you call an Uber for them, too, okay? No matter the cost.”
“Okay,” I tell her. “I will. I promise.”
Evie and Luke are halfway to the front door when Mom says, “And, Claire?”
I turn, trying not to let my impatience show. It’s threatening rain, and I’m pretty sure I felt a drop or two against my head.
Plus, it’s cold. I want to get inside. “Yes?”
She smiles at me. “Have fun.”