“Yeah, an empty house sounds...terrible.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, elbowing him. “I don’t want to blink and have them be adults. I like them as kids. I don’t want to miss out because I’m preoccupied with things that don’t matter.”

He nodded. “That’s fine with me, Daisy. I get it. I really do.”

“So I will be more present here at home. And I will keep my nose to myself and stop putting it in other people’s business.”

He chuckled. “You really think you can do that?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Be supportive,” I reminded him.

His expression turned serious. “I just want you be happy.”

“I am happy.”

And occupied.”

I rolled into him and laid my head on his chest I looked up at him. “I am occupied.”

He grinned. “And banned.”

I arched an eyebrow. Jake could never be serious for long. It was one of the things I loved most about him. He knew when I needed support and he knew when I needed humor injected into a situation or conversation.

“I thought you were going to get me unbanned.”

He put his arm around me and hugged me, kissing the top of my head. “Nobody bans my wife. Nobody.”

THIRTY SEVEN

“Mom!” Grace yelled. “I can’t find my hat! I forgot my hat! For my costume!”

“It’s on your head, “ Sophie told her.

Grace reached up and patted her head. “Found it!”

We were all piled into the minivan – except for Emily who had elected to stay home to do homework – on our way to the dress rehearsal. Will was in the backseat and I was fairly certain that he’d come along just to see what would happen with the whole banned situation. I assumed he was hoping for some sort of showdown.

I was not.

“What about my hat?” I asked, glancing in the mirror on the visor.

I’d grabbed one of Emily’s wool beanies, a soft pink and white striped one that I’d pulled on to my head and had now tugged so far down that all of my hair was inside of it and my eyes were barely visible. I thought I might be able to disguise my way in.

“We’re just going to walk right in,” Jake said, reading my mind. “We aren’t going to make a big deal about it and we aren’t going to ask. Plus, since it’s rehearsal, it’s not like there will be an admission table or anything like that.” He glanced over at me. “It’ll be fine.”

“Just make sure you have cash for bail if we need it.”

He shook his hand and turned the van into the high school parking lot. “We don’t need cash. Plus, bail bonds places take credit cards.”

“That’s reassuring.” I glanced at him. “And slightly disconcerting that you actually know this.”

He grinned. “I know lots of things.”

The parking lot closest to the theater entrance at the high school was already mostly full when we got there, and families were hustling into the theater. Like Sophie and Grace, most kids had arrived in costume. There were deer and rabbits, and a couple of little kids dressed as birds. Several tall trees walked awkwardly across the lot, their gangly branches swaying in the autumn breeze. A couple other dwarfs were being ushered toward the door and a teenager dressed as the gnarled old witch walked behind them, munching on an apple. I hoped it wasn’t her prop. Two moms were stationed at the door, directing everyone where to go.

My hands clenched into tight fists and I took a deep breath.

Jake noticed. He reached over and touched my hand. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

“You take them in first,” I said.

“Daisy—”

“Just do it,” I said, lowering my voice. I didn’t want the girls to hear. “So if there’s any issue they don’t have to be a part of it.”

“I’ll stay,” Will said.

Jake’s mouth twisted for a moment, uncertain what he wanted to do. Then he sighed. “Alright. I’ll give you five minutes. But if you aren’t in there, I’m coming back out to get you and I’ll carry you in over my shoulder.”

“That wouldn’t get anyone’s attention at all.”

“You’ve been warned,” he said, pushing his door open. “See you inside.”

I watched him walk off, a dwarf attached to each of his hands.

“How long are we waiting?” Will asked.

“Maybe an hour?”

“Mom. No.”

I sighed. “I know. Just a minute or two.”

“The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be,” he said. “We should just go.”

“You sound like Jake.”

“You should also know that I’m supposed to text him updates if we’re still sitting in the car.”

I twisted in my seat. “What? He did not say anything like that.”

“Before we left the house,” he said. “He said he’d pay me five bucks if I’d text him every minute we stayed out here.”

“He didn’t even know I was going to stay in the car!”

“Well, I guess he did,” Will said. “Or he just guessed right.”

Stupid, clairvoyant husband.

“I’ll pay you six bucks not to text him,” I said.

Will tilted his head, considering my offer. “I don’t know,” he answered. “He’ll pay me the five and sometimes he tips me.”

“Ten.”

“Deal. But if we stay out here too long and he doesn’t hear from me, he’s going to come looking for me.”

“We’re at least going to sit here for a few minutes so he has to wonder why you aren’t texting him,” I said. “I want my money’s worth.”

Will chuckled and shrugged.

I hated that I disliked confrontation so much. I just wanted everyone to get along. Especially with me. I didn’t like being singled out and I didn’t like anyone thinking I’d done anything wrong, even when I knew that I hadn’t.

“Uh, Mom,” Will said, interrupting my thoughts. “Jake says we need to come in.”

“Well, duh. He’s trying to get you to earn that five dollars.”

“No, this is different,” he said. “He says we need to hurry up. I think something’s wrong.”

I pictured broken zippers and missing buttons from the kids’ costumes. That was definitely not Jake’s department. Or mine, either, if I were being honest. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t text him and he’s just saying we need to come inside now.”

I frowned. “Feels like a trap.”

“I don’t think so, Mom.”

“Fine,” I said, sighing. “Let’s go.”

The wind whipped at our faces as we headed toward the entrance. Leaves skittered across the parking lot, crunching under our feet as we walked. I glanced up at the sky. Thick gray clouds bloomed on the horizon and I wondered if they would be bringing rain or snow when they arrived. I hadn’t checked the forecast before we left but the air felt cold enough for the latter.

“What are we going to do?” Will asked, his chin tucked to his chest.

“We’re going to walk in,” I said. “And hope they don’t slap handcuffs on me.”

“I don’t think they have handcuffs.”

“Stop being reasonable,” I said to him as we stepped up on the curb. “And you’re going first and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Do I stop if they stop you?”

“No. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

“You’re being a spaz, Mom. And I can barely see your face, your hat is pulled down so low.”

“Exactly. Now lead the way.”

We approached the door and I was right on his heels. The mom on the left smiled at Will as we went through the door, then nodded at me. The other mom wasn’t even looking at us.

Will stopped to unzip his jacket and stomp his shoes on the rubber mat just inside the door, dislodging the bits of crushed leaves stuck in the grooves of his sneakers.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “We’re in.”

“Mom, seriously,” he said, still wiping his feet. “I think Jake is right. No one cares.”

“You’re only saying that because you weren’t banned,” I whispered at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Daisy.”

I whirled around.

Annabelle Kingston stood behind me, clutching the hands of two little boys. She smiled at me, a tired, harried smile crossing her face. “I can’t believe we made it to the dress rehearsal.”