Sable
It’s been three days since my heat ended. Plum was kind enough to assist Bee in keeping the shop open for me while I was, ahem, busy…
With their help, I didn’t have too much extra work when I returned two days ago.
Unfortunately, with all of us having jobs we need to return to, we had to go our separate ways. The group chat helps alleviate the strain of being away from each other all day.
Fortunately, though, none of them left me alone for long, and over the last two days, the longest I’ve been alone is maybe two hours. It’s almost like they coordinated, so I wouldn’t be left alone for long.
Are they worried I’ll run away again? No… no, that seems silly. They must know I’m not going anywhere. These men are mine.
Today is probably the busiest day of the year for me, since it’s Halloween.
All day, shoppers have been stopping by between getting ready for tonight, and I’ve once again sold out of all candles.
Well, almost all of them. I have a box stashed in the back that I won’t be selling anymore because they smell like my guys.
Something I’m no longer willing to share.
And despite some of the sideways looks I’ve been receiving today, it’s been a decent day. Plus, I love Halloween.
Passing out candy with Grams was always one of my favorite ways to spend Halloween night. I stopped wanting to trick or treat when I was still young.
I preferred dressing up with Grams and Bee so we could pass out candy at the shop.
Plum joined us when we were about ten, and it became one of my favorite traditions.
Five years of trying to replicate this out in the world failed miserably, until last year.
I’m just grateful that last year I decided to come home for a short two-day visit on Halloween.
Grams, Bee, Plum, and I all passed out candy before getting drunk on margaritas while watching Practical Magic on repeat. I should have come home for Christmas too. If only I had known they would be my last with Grams… but we’ll always have Halloween.
“I miss you so fucking much,” I whisper to the mirror as I adjust her witches hat on my head. She loved dressing up all month long, but every year since I can remember, on Halloween night, Grams and Bee were always witches.
“If the town is going to accuse us of being witches, we might as well look the part!”
This year I’m honoring her tradition by wearing part of her costume. Mainly, her favorite witches hat.
Plum: Running a little behind. Be there soon.
Sable: No worries.
It’s only ten after five, which means that the mini trick-or-treaters haven’t even started, since they usually start showing up right at five thirty. It’s an unspoken rule here.
Bee won’t be here until closer to six. In her words, “I’m slow. Deal with it.”
After lacing up my bustier and layering a few black skirts, I pull on my cloak, going for the classic look. I’ll save the sexy version for the party later.
I’m setting up our chairs twenty minutes later, and filling the massive cauldron with candy when I hear giggling.
“You’re a witch!” someone says behind me, and I turn to see a very small mushroom pointing at me.
“You’re a mushroom! I can use you in my potions!” I tease, wiggling my fingers and winking at the kid that can’t be more than three.
“Ooooh! Yeah! Put me in a potion!” he cheers, and I snort a very undignified laugh.
“Perhaps…” I tap a finger to my chin. “But first, what do you say?” I ask, squinting, and pretending to think really hard.
“Trick or treat! Thank you! Bye!” He says in quick succession, his mom’s smile folding for a second as she cringes in that way parents do when their kid doesn’t quite grasp something.
“One at a time, kid,” she huffs, mouthing sorry to me, but I wave it off.
“Oh.” He frowns, pouting. There’s a long, silent pause as he considers his mother's words. “That was one, mom.”
I can’t help it, I cackle as the little guy leaves his mom at a loss for words.
“Touché, I guess.” She lets out a long sigh, shrugging.
“Have a happy Halloween,” I say as I put a handful of candy into his bag.
Tonight had started so well, but I guess that was never going to last.
I was hoping today would be better than the last few weeks with everyone in town whispering every time I’m around. Sadly, as three mothers gather at the foot of the stairs, leaning into each other and saying something that makes them giggle, my cheeks turn red.
I’m saved from the awkward encounter as their kids run off to score candy from the next business, but this does not bode well for the rest of my night.
Thankfully, Plum arrives just in time to save me from the next judgy gaggle of townspeople.
“Hey Sugarbat!” she greets cheerfully as she leaps up the steps dressed as an elf-witch.
The layered green gauzy fabric swirls around her hips over dark green leggings as she reaches me.
Sparkly eye shadow makes those silver eyes even more captivating.
Lucky witch. I shake my head at her as she pulls me in for a hug.
She’s never beating the elf allegations, even if she tries to hide it with a witches hat.
“Hey, Sugarplum. Glad you’re here. I’m starting to get sideways looks, and the tried and true judgy whispers,” I huff as we take our seats beside the cauldron filled with candy. “I’m debating whether to start throwing salt.” She snorts at my joke, but glares out at the town.
“Of course, because these small-minded simpletons have nothing better to do than be assholes all year long,” Plum grumbles quietly as another set of trick or treaters approach.
“I should probably skip the costume party at Taron’s tonight,” I sigh, feeling defeated. I don’t want my presence to ruin his night.
“NO!” Plum snaps loudly, whipping to face me, her eyes wide, chest heaving. I lift my brow at her over reaction.
“That was dramatic,” I point out as the slightly startled kids retreat. Jeez woman.
She leans over, whispering behind the candy pot so the tiny tots climbing the stairs don’t hear her.
“What I mean is…girl, fuck that! Fuck them, too! Well, maybe don’t fuck them.” Plum wiggles her brows at me, making me snort a laugh. “But fuck letting them get the best of you.”
“I just hate feeling like all eyes are on me, and everyone is whispering mean shit I can’t hear, so I can’t defend myself,” I whine once their mothers help them back down the stairs. It’s picking up now, with a steady flow of little tikes coming for their candy.
“Trick or treat, smell my feet!” A small one interrupts as she approaches, looking to be about four, and holds up a stick with feet tied to it. There’s no way to describe the look of pride in her eyes that completely contradicts the sorrowful look of defeat in the mothers.
“She really wanted to be smelly feet for Halloween,” the mother explains, and I snort. “I tried to explain that you can’t be smelly feet, you can only have smelly feet but that only seemed to make things worse, so here we are. As you can see, I lost that fight,” she says with a long sigh.
“Another day, another reason to never have kids,” Plum says once the mom flees with her stinky foot child.
“You love kids,” I point out, and Plum shrugs.
“If my future kid ever wants to dress up as stinky feet for Halloween, I’m sending them straight to your house.” Plum grimaces, looking truly disgusted.
“That kid would be the best dressed stinky feet in history,” I say, already proud of my future niece or nephew.
“Yeah, I’ll just bet. Anyway, stop trying to get out of this conversation. Do you respect any of these people?” She asks, getting right to the point, before turning to face me, watching me with a very judgmental look, if I do say so myself.
“Not really, I mean, some of them, I guess,” I say, shrugging. Thinking of the few people in this town whose opinions do matter to me.
“Do the people you respect talk shit on you?” she pushes, looking as if she knows damn well they don’t.
“I don’t think so. I mean, I fucking hope not,” I say, throwing my hands up, and letting them land in my lap with a smack.
“Exactly, so if you don’t even respect them, why the fuck do you care what they have to say, or what they think?
” Plum gestures at Tiffany and Jen, who stand at the bottom of the stairs as their kids come to grab handfuls of candy from the bowl.
“Them, for example. Who gives a shit what they think?” Plum whispers, because while they’re bitches, my bestie isn’t going to talk badly about them in front of their kids.
Not loud enough for them to hear her, anyway.
“We’re going to the bar tonight because what we’re not going to do is let judgy old hags ruin our Halloween.
” There’s a hint of something in her tone that tells me no matter what I say, I’m not getting out of this.
I’m about to ask her what's up with her, when Bee finally arrives.
“What are you girls gossiping about?” Bee asks as she makes her way to the stairs.
I had been so caught up in my bullshit that I didn’t notice her coming.
Her layered, swirling skirts lend the look of a forest hag, while she carries a woven basket that definitely hides her margarita stash. The woman hasn’t changed a bit.
“I was telling Sable that she can’t let judgy butt heads stop her from having a good night,” Plum says with a smile as I jump up to help Bee up the stairs, even though she tries to wave me off, swatting me with her cane.
“Quit your protesting,” I tell her as I grab her hand so she can lean on me, while Plum takes the basket of goodies from her other arm. These stairs are old. If she falls, I’ll never forgive myself. Colter said he’d fix them. Maybe I should bribe him with more, um, desserts.