15. Spooky Season
Since Audre has been Head of School at Tiffin, there have been strict—some might even say draconian—rules about Halloween.
Because it is, by far, Audre’s least favorite day of the year (she’d like to see it wiped off the calendar altogether), she made the following decree: Halloween would be celebrated only every other year.
Last year was an off year, which means, unfortunately, this year is an on year.
Audre pokes her head into Cordelia Spooner’s office. “I thought I’d check in. I know it must have been difficult going through Family Weekend without Honey around.”
Cordelia clicks out of Facebook, where she was looking at pictures of a prospective student named Lachlan Burke, who falls in a gray area academically but who is startlingly handsome.
Cordelia knows she needs to abandon the egregious practice of admitting kids because of their appearance and instead do what Audre has asked and do a deep dive into their parents’ bank account instead.
But old habits, etc.
“Thursday night I felt a little pang…” Cordelia admits.
In years past, she and Honey would eat dinner at Moon Palace on the Thursday before Family Weekend.
This year, Cordelia DoorDashed the food to her cottage.
She was halfway through a bottle of chardonnay and her Singapore noodles when she received another text from Honey: I wish we were together at Moon Palace. I miss you, Cord.
Cordelia was nearly drunk enough to send back a picture of a fried pork dumpling between chopsticks, but she summoned the willpower to remain elusive. The second Cordelia responds, she will relinquish all her emotional currency. She wants Honey to perish from missing her.
“… but aside from that, I was too busy to think about Honey.”
Audre nods approvingly, then turns the discussion to the ghoul in the room. “I suppose we have to celebrate Halloween this year.”
“It falls on a Saturday,” Cordelia says. “Which means…”
Audre groans. “A Halloween party.” Any time Halloween falls on a weekend, which has only happened once in Audre’s tenure, they hold a Halloween party in the Egg. “I feel like we just had First Dance. And the Kringle is right around the corner.”
Cordelia waves a dismissive hand. “First Dance was more than five weeks ago,” she says. “The Kringle is nearly eight weeks from now, and that’s only for upperclassmen. The kids need an outlet, Audre.”
Yes, yes, Audre knows. “I guess that means we have to come up with a theme.”
“Dr. Coopersmith suggested we go with a 1960s theme,” Cordelia says. “To tie into his history class. Isn’t that clever?”
Audre blinks. The 1960s is a rich theme, and the parents will love how it connects to the curriculum. “When were you talking to Coop about this?”
“One evening last week,” Cordelia says. “He joined me at dinner and asked how we celebrate Halloween around here.”
Audre doesn’t like to admit how jealous she is that Cordelia and Coop had dinner together—probably on one of the nights Audre stayed in her residence stress-eating Fritos with cheese dip from a can.
“Let’s go with it,” Audre says. “Halloween party, theme the 1960s.”
Cordelia claps her hands. “I’m going as Marilyn Monroe!”
Well, okay, Audre thinks.
“Good morning, Mr. Rivera,” Cordelia Spooner says.
Rhode, who is checking out his abs in the mirror (he’s been doing 150 crunches a day since school started, but a six-pack remains elusive), drops his shirt and whips around.
“Good morning, Mrs. Spooner,” Rhode says. Cordelia has, for the first time ever, breached the invisible line that separates the weight room from the cardio machines. Something must be up.
“Just wondering if you’d be willing to chaperone the Halloween party on Saturday night?” Cordelia says.
When Rhode read the school-wide email about the Halloween party the day before, he was instantly triggered.
Back when he was a third-former at Tiffin, he was told by his floor prefect—a total douchebag named Anson Atwater—that all the third-form boys were dressing up as Revolutionary War soldiers during the school day.
Rhode had dutifully cut a pair of his khakis into britches, fashioned knee socks out of tube socks, and borrowed a three-cornered hat from the theater department’s prop box—only to realize, upon appearing at the Paddock for breakfast, that every other third-former was in on Anson’s joke, leaving Rhode as the only person who’d already dressed up for Halloween.
He’d raced back to the dorms to change, which made him late for A-period.
Everyone had called him “Paul Revere” for the rest of the semester.
“Actually,” Rhode says to Cordelia, “this weekend is my weekend off. So sadly, I won’t be attending the party.”
Cordelia frowns. “But the theme this year is the 1960s. I’m going as Marilyn Monroe, and I was hoping you’d be willing to go as Arthur Miller.”
Rhode slow-blinks.
“Because Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe were married,” Cordelia says. “And you teach The Crucible to the fifth-form at Halloween, don’t you?”
“I do…”
“It would be so clever!” Cordelia says. “We might win a prize if people connect the dots.”
Rhode nearly tells Cordelia that absolutely no one will connect the dots.
The kids won’t remember who wrote The Crucible (with the exception of Charley Hicks), and they won’t know that its author, Arthur Miller, was briefly married to Marilyn Monroe (the kids might not even know who Marilyn Monroe is).
What would an Arthur Miller costume even look like?
A suit, fedora, and eyeglasses? The whole idea is absurd, and the fact remains that Rhode has one weekend off per month and he’s not willing to relinquish it for some esoteric couples-costume idea with Cordelia Spooner.
“I’m sorry,” Rhode says. “But I have plans.”
Cordelia’s frown deepens; she turns away without another word. While it’s true that Rhode and Cordelia have struck a rapport while they’re at the gym, they aren’t exactly friends—and yet now Rhode feels bad about letting Cordelia down.
But not that bad.
When Chef Haz hears about the Halloween party, he groans, thinking he will now have to come up with a spooky menu of things like “ghostly goulash” or a spiderweb cheesecake.
He’s been asked to do worse, of course, but the anticipation of the request spurs him to sit down at his laptop to write an email to Jesse Eastman—not to complain, but to ask about his future.
Jesse Eastman banished Haz from the Dewberry Club in New York City to Tiffin when young Eastman started at the school.
At the time, Jesse assured Haz the move would be temporary.
He intimated that, when Andrew graduated, Haz would be reinstated as head chef at the Dewberry; by then, the embezzlement scandal (Haz “borrowed” discretionary funds from the club budget to pay his gambling debts) would be forgiven.
Young Eastman is set to graduate in the spring, meaning this will be Haz’s last year. Right?
Before Haz can figure out how to ask without seeming greedy, presumptuous, or ungrateful, a text comes in from Audre, clarifying that the theme for the Halloween party this year is the 1960s, and wouldn’t it be fun to do some retro cocktail party fare?
Chef’s mood brightens. That he can do. He clicks out of his email and writes up a menu.
Halloween Party
Let’s Twist Again Buffet
Saturday, October 31
SELECTIONS
French onion dip and potato chips
Pecan cheese ball
Cocktail franks
Stuffed celery sticks
Deviled eggs
Butter-baked saltines
Meat loaf sandwiches
Cheese dreams with tomato and bacon
DESSERTS
Jell-O fruit salad squares
Grasshopper cupcakes
In the hour before the Halloween party is to begin, Audre decides that, instead of dreading the evening ahead, she’ll embrace it.
She pours herself a glass of wine (hypocritical, since she’ll be checking to make sure the students aren’t drunk or drinking, but her job is stressful and she would like to relax, one glass of pinot won’t hurt).
She lights a pumpkin-scented candle and slices open the box of clothes that she salvaged from her mother’s closet when she moved her parents out of their house this past summer.
Audre’s mother has a flair for fashion, so Audre snapped up some of the pieces she’d placed in the pile for Goodwill—bell-bottom trousers, silk blouses, and a very chic paisley-print shift minidress, which Audre will wear tonight, paired with white go-go boots that she ordered last minute from .
She wraps a fuchsia scarf over her hair and puts on her biggest gold hoops, then starts on her glittery makeup.
She’s blasting the 5th Dimension; Marilyn McCoo was her mother’s favorite back in the day.
“ ‘Up, up, and away!’” Audre sings as she applies electric blue eye shadow. Who even is she, and why is she in such a good mood on Halloween?
Well, she knows why.
Cordelia swings by to pick Audre up, and when Audre sees Cordelia’s costume, she shrieks.
Cordelia is wearing Marilyn’s iconic white dress, a blond wig, and red lipstick. She’s powdered her face and added a beauty mark. Audre wasn’t sure Marilyn Monroe was the right choice for Cordelia, but she looks… fantastic!
“Cordelia!” Audre cries.
Cordelia spins around so the skirt of her dress flares. Cordelia’s legs look amazing, the time on the treadmill is really paying off, but is Audre allowed to say such a thing out loud?
“You look gorg too, boss,” Cordelia says.
“This dress was my mother’s,” Audre says. She sings out a few bars of “Let the Sunshine In,” before she blows out the pumpkin candle and instructs Alexa to shut off the music. “The boots are from . Twelve bucks!”