Chapter Forty-Two Lee
Chapter Forty-Two
Lee
‘So this is a Roseport Halloween?’ I say two nights later, observing the scene in front of me.
‘Is it everything you hoped it would be?’ Nico asks.
‘It’s… a lot.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Nico sighs. ‘Roseport doesn’t really do subtle.’ He looks around, appreciating it as well. He wasn’t here last Halloween, and it feels good that we’re doing something for the first time here together.
‘This really is excellent hot chocolate,’ I say, sipping from the steaming cup cradled in my hands. It’s cool out tonight, and Phoebe wouldn’t let me wear a coat because it would cover my costume.
‘I told you Kat makes the best hot chocolate every Halloween. I like the crunchy orange sprinkles on top of the whipped cream.’ Phoebe exhales blissfully as Nico holds the cup in front of her mouth and she slurps through the straw Kat gave her.
We’re standing on Main Street, surrounded by a sea of people in costumes.
Every single store front is decorated to look like a haunted house with a different theme.
There are motion-activated animatronic skeletons that keep making me jump out of my skin, thick spider webs stretching from awning to awning, and an entire plastic graveyard has sprouted along the lawns with names like IMA GONER and AL BEBACK on the tombstones.
On one side of the street a vintage-looking car has been pulled over, its bonnet popped open while several posed skeleton mechanics in high-vis jackets work on it. Rita is dressed as a witch and handing out her most horrifying ice cream flavours. It turns out Halloween is her time to shine.
I look around at the whole scene, delighted.
Which is my predominant state of existence at the moment, by the way: delight.
Kat had to switch me to decaf coffee because she was ‘genuinely concerned’ about my ‘unnatural levels of perkiness’.
I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being perky before so I can see why it might be unnerving.
I actually think I could lift a car with the amount of endorphins flowing through my veins.
I might still be leaving in a few days, but I’m trying not to focus on that – it won’t be for ever.
There’ll be FaceTime and phone calls and voice notes and flights booked in as soon as possible.
It’s not perfect, but it’s more than I ever imagined would be possible, and more importantly Nico and I are in this together.
That fact still seems miraculous.
‘Well, if it isn’t the Hart family!’ Art suddenly appears in front of us, pumping Nico’s hand, while Annie stands beside him looking faintly confused by the entire world.
Art is dressed as a scarecrow, Annie as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, and she carries Button, their sweater-wearing Yorkshire terrier, in a small basket. He doesn’t look impressed.
‘Nice to see you, Art,’ Nico grins. ‘Excellent costumes this year.’
‘Thank you, thank you, you too.’ He gives the three of us a long look. ‘Are you…’
‘We’re from Bringing Up Baby,’ Phoebe huffs.
We’re having to explain our family costume quite a lot.
Phoebe came up with it, and she and Nico organised the outfits, telling me it was a secret until the big day.
Apparently they co-ordinated with the Roseport Players costume department, raiding their supplies.
I’m wearing a long, shiny gold dress that was once part of a Cleopatra costume but has been repurposed as Katharine Hepburn’s lamé evening gown.
Phoebe wanted to rip the back off the skirt and have me walk around with my knickers on display like in the film, but I vetoed that pretty quickly, citing potential hypothermia and mortification.
‘I got you a top hat for Dad to hold over your butt, like Cary Grant does in the movie,’ Phoebe grumbled, outraged by the artistic compromises she was being forced to make.
‘I was quite looking forward to that part,’ Nico agreed.
Nico got off easy in a lab coat and a pair of round glasses, clean-shaven, his hair slicked back.
Phoebe is the Brontosaurus that Cary Grant’s character is trying to rebuild, and Taco is resplendent in a leopard-print jumper and a headband with a pair of leopard ears on over the top of his actual ears.
We look insane. It’s perfect.
‘I am the Brontosaurus with the missing intercostal clavicle,’ Phoebe explains now, the small pale moon of her face the only part of her visible inside the bright blue inflatable dinosaur suit.
‘Even though when I Googled it, it turns out there’s no such thing as an intercostal clavicle.
But it’s a very old film. I guess they didn’t have Google then. ’
‘No, I guess not,’ Art agrees.
We chat for another minute or two and then they go on their way. Several more people stop us to say hello, and Phoebe grows increasingly irate about explaining our costume.
‘This would never have happened if you had the hat over your butt,’ she mutters darkly.
‘Oh look,’ I point to the other side of the street. ‘There’s Tara and Luke. Oh my god, she actually got him to dress as a cowboy!’
‘Bringing Up Baby!’ Tara squeals when she sees us.
‘Yes!’ Phoebe tries to punch the air but ends up bouncing off Tara and wobbling into several passers-by instead. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘This thing’s pretty hard to drive.’
‘Nice costume,’ Nico smirks at Luke, receiving a glare in return.
‘Doesn’t he look so hot?’ Tara winds herself around Luke, staring up at him from under her pink hat, stars in her eyes. ‘Finding leather chaps this close to Halloween was actually a lot tougher than you’d think.’
‘Yet, still upsettingly possible,’ Luke rumbles, but he smiles down at her, knocking the rim of his hat back so he can kiss her. Even I swoon at that, and Nico frowns.
‘You said my costume was hot, too,’ he grumbles.
‘Are you kidding? Nerdy Cary Grant?’ I fan myself with my hand. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Gross,’ Phoebe says flatly. ‘There’s Maya and her mum – is it okay if I go and do some trick or treating with them before I meet up with Nana?’
‘As long as it’s okay with Sandra,’ Nico nods. Phoebe ricochets her way over and then Nico and Maya’s mum have one of those wordless parent conversations, through a series of hand gestures.
‘Come on, Taco!’ Phoebe calls, and the dog trots off, letting Maya pick up his lead before they head off to join the queues of hyperactive, sugar-filled kids outside every door.
‘It’s chilly,’ Tara says. ‘Let’s go and stand by the bonfire.’ She pulls a silver hip flask from the pocket of Luke’s jeans and winks. ‘We can warm up.’
‘Sold,’ I agree, thinking that there surely must have been a scene where Katharine Hepburn was wearing a big coat.
‘Hi, Lee,’ Stefano calls as we pass. He’s wearing a Chewbacca costume and chasing his grandkids through the crowd.
‘Hi, Lee,’ Gerald and Carl say as they totter past hand in hand disguised as troll dolls.
‘Hello, Nico. Hi, Lee,’ Phil says. ‘Dost thou like me costume?’ He’s dressed as Henry VIII and I think that’s some sort of tribute to us.
‘You look amazing,’ I say honestly.
For a moment it’s like I can zoom out on it all, this scene that I’m a part of.
The bandstand holds the school orchestra – the students are dressed like zombies and playing a Halloween-themed playlist. Kat is set up next to them, selling her famous hot chocolate with Mei’s assistance, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights.
The funny thing is that, despite the crowds and the noise, I don’t feel anxious at all.
I glance over to where a group of teenagers are huddled together by the bonfire; their mood is jubilant – helped along by the fact that the school’s football team won their big match, or game, or showdown or whatever it’s called, this afternoon and they’re wearing those letter jackets, just like in the movies. When I mention this to Nico he grins.
‘Now I wish I had a letter jacket to put around your shoulders. You’d be in small-town America, Hallmark movie heaven.’
‘You’re so right,’ I agree. ‘I bet they have prom, too, right? A proper one in a gymnasium with streamers and corsages and awkward photos?’
‘I believe they do,’ Nico nods.
‘And one day that will be Phoebe,’ I murmur, already smiling at the thought.
Nico, on the other hand, looks stricken. ‘Christ, don’t say that. She’s already growing up way too fast. I’m going to be an emotional wreck when she goes to prom.’
I laugh, but I can picture it already. Phoebe in her dress… or maybe in a cool suit, and Nico taking pictures and blinking back foolishly happy tears while his daughter rolls her eyes, secretly loving it.
When I realise that I want to be there for it so badly it hurts I have to turn my head away and stare into the fire for several long breaths. Maybe I will be. Maybe I can be.
Suddenly it hits me, this thing Nico and I are talking about doing.
It’s a commitment, a real one, a long one.
That’s what we both agreed, but when I try and picture that future…
one where I’m not here all the time, one where I might miss things big and small, it hurts in a way that takes me by surprise.
It’s not just Phoebe who might struggle.
And there’s also the uncertainty about our marriage.
We haven’t spoken about it and I keep thinking I should bring it up.
But how can I when the thought of signing divorce papers makes my stomach turn?
How can I say, ‘I know we’ve barely started dating, I know I’m leaving to live on the other side of the world, but do you think we could give this whole marriage thing a real shot? ’
Way too much. We’re not actually in a Regency romance novel.
‘Darlings! There you are!’ Claudia appears, interrupting my reverie.
She’s dressed like Marilyn Monroe in a blonde wig, a pink dress, a significant number of diamonds that are almost certainly real, and dragging Charles Saunders along after her.
He’s wearing his usual immaculate suit, but with a bowler hat as well, which I suppose makes it a costume of some sort.
I haven’t seen him since the disastrous meeting on Saturday, despite the outrageous number of emails I sent begging for a face-to-face.
‘Hi, Ma.’ Nico kisses her on the cheek. ‘You look great.’
‘Oh, I know,’ Claudia agrees. ‘And to think, I just threw it together! Halloween completely slipped my mind this year, but this is charming, totally charming, isn’t it, Charlie?’
‘It is,’ he agrees, and from the way he’s beaming at Claudia, perhaps he’s not as unhappy with me as I thought.
I am flooded with optimism. Maybe we’re actually going to get away with this. All the situation requires is a heartfelt apology to seal the deal, and I am so ready to grovel.
‘Mr Saunders,’ I begin, ‘I really need to—’
‘Ophelia, baby!’ a voice shouts from nearby, and I turn around to see a man pushing through the crowd towards us.
Oh, shit.