to enjoy this one, too. West Fork was the kind of town where it was still safe for children to knock on doors begging for candy. Too bad Cait had already ruined Molly’s favorite part of the holiday—carving the jack-o’-lanterns. They’d done it together since Cait was big enough to draw a face on the pumpkins with her marker and help spoon out seeds and slime. This year, when Molly announced that she’d bought two pumpkins, Cait had said flatly, “Wow.”
“You don’t have dance tonight. I thought this would be a good evening to carve them.”
Her daughter only shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.”
Without another word, Molly had marched downstairs, spread newspaper on the table to contain the mess and done it herself. She didn’t have a grain of Cait’s artistic ability, though, so hers were simple—triangular eyes, noses, wide mouths with missing teeth. But, by God, they had jack-o’-lanterns, one on the porch steps and the other on the railing.
Not half an hour ago, she’d lit candles inside them. Wrapped candy was heaped in a huge ceramic bowl on a side table by the front door, ready to hand out. She’d gotten dinner on the table early—although not as early as she’d planned—so they’d be ready. Cait had even come down when she called.
She then sat pretending to eat, head bent so her hair shielded her face, responding in monosyllables if at all to Molly’s one-sided chatter. The few glimpses Molly had gotten of Cait’s face had scared her. She’d been starkly pale and utterly withdrawn. Something was wrong. Even more wrong.
In irritation, Molly thought, Sure, there is. Something earth-shattering like Trevor acquiring a new girlfriend. She was getting exasperated enough at Cait’s histrionics to keep her from panicking. The sound of the doorbell was a relief.
She opened the door to a cry of “Trick or treat!” and found two small faces grinning up at her. The little girl wore a remarkably clever horse costume—she was a palomino with a shining golden mane and tail—while the boy was a pirate.
“Happy Halloween,” she told them, dropping candy into their proffered orange buckets and waving at the dad who hovered on the front walk. Another group was already turning up toward her porch.
She hadn’t quite finished dinner, but that was okay. Maybe Cait would condescend to take a turn. At least that didn’t involve interaction with her mother, the enemy. And she hadn’t said anything about going out.
To Molly’s surprise she appeared from the kitchen and grinned at the latest group. “Wow, you’re so cute. And you’re scary!” she said, handing out the candy. She mimicked fear at a Frankenstein. Giggling, the two carefully climbed down the porch steps to rejoin a shadowy adult figure—Mom this time?
Studying Cait carefully, Molly thought there was still something odd going on. Did she seem…frenetic?
Wow, I’m getting paranoid.
“You should have seen the horse,” Molly said, closing the door and smiling at her daughter. “The costume was pretty amazing. Almost better than yours.”
Cait rolled her eyes. “Which you designed and sewed by the sweat of your brow. And yeah, I remember you had bandages on every finger by the time you were done creating the tail. How could I forget? You’ve only bragged about my purple horse costume nine million times.”
“I hadn’t even thought of it in years,” Molly said, as evenly as she could manage. “I apologize for mentioning it. Will you get the next trick-or-treaters?”
Cait yanked open the closet and grabbed a parka. “I have to go somewhere.”
Molly had started toward the kitchen, but now she turned back. “Have to?” When there was no answer, she asked, “Where and with whom?”
“‘With whom.’ God, Mom.”
She crossed her arms. “You didn’t mention a party.”
“I’m not going to a party, okay?” Cait exclaimed with that new ugliness. “It’s like six o’clock. It’s not even dark! What’s your problem?”
“I asked where you’re going. Is that so unreasonable?”
“Yes! You don’t trust me at all.” She flung open the door, startling a solitary Mutant Ninja Turtle who had been reaching for the doorbell. He scuttled back a few steps.
“Trick or treat?” he whispered.
“Here!” Cait grabbed a whole handful of candy bars and dumped them in his bag so hard it rattled. “I’m going,” she told her mother, and took off down the steps, yelling over her shoulder, “Deal with it.” The parent waiting on the sidewalk took a step onto the grass to let her tear by. The flashlight the woman held wobbled.