his—or her—grapes.
Traditional outfits weren’t forgotten: angels, devils, witches, and ghosts, mingled with monsters, princesses, and skeletons. The imagination and handiwork of the hill’s residents always amazed Judith. She and Joe never wore costumes, but they joined Renie and Bill at one of Moonbeam’s curbside tables. The foursome drank mochas and hot chocolate while watching the steady flow of celebrants seeking treats—or store coupons—from local merchants. For the past few years, Judith had longed for the day her grandchildren would take part. Renie always hoped that she and Bill would become grandparents, but so far the three married Jones offspring hadn’t granted her wish.
The event began at three and lasted until dark settled over the hill. Damn, Judith thought with pangs of guilt, remorse and disappointment, I have a train to catch. I’ve always known life isn’t fair. But do my grandchildren have to find out when they’re only five and seven?
Mac’s inquisitive dark eyes gazed up at Judith. “What’s wrong, Grams? You look sad.”
“Nothing.” She forced a smile. “I’m guessing what your costumes will be.”
“Want a hint?” Joe-Joe asked, finally letting go of Judith’s legs.
Mac grabbed his younger brother’s arm. “No! It’s a surprise! We promised Dad!” he said as his father and grandfather hauled cartons, luggage, and bedding through the hall. “Joe-Joe wants to tell Grams what we’ll be for Halloween.”
“He won’t,” Mike said. “Help Gramps with the stuff that goes upstairs, okay, guys?”
Joe’s rubicund face was rosier than ever and he seemed short of breath. “What…about the…jellies?” he asked.
Judith hurried into the hall. “Set them down here. I’ll put the canned goods in the pantry.”
“Let me,” Kristin volunteered. “Grams is cooking dinner.” Dinner. The old schoolhouse clock showed it was seven-thirty. She’d forgotten about dinner. The McMonigle clan’s arrival hadn’t merely overwhelmed her; it had killed her appetite.
“How about pizza?”
“I’ll do it,” Kristin said. “Have you got fifteen-inch round stones?”
“Ah…no. I don’t often make pizza,” Judith admitted. As in never.
Kristin looked thoughtful. “I can use cookie sheets. Let’s see…I’ll need pepperoni, Italian sausage, ham, hot dogs, mushrooms, onions, grated mozzarella cheese, and tomato sauce. Or canned chopped tomatoes, if you have them.
Oh! The dough, of course.”
While Kristin listed her needs, Judith downed more hard cider. “This packs a wallop,” she said. “What liquor is in it? I can’t tell.”
Kristin smiled slyly. “It’s my own recipe.”
Feeling as if fog had invaded her brain, Judith wasn’t sure what her daughter-in-law meant. “You mix a couple of kinds together or…”
Kristin winked at Judith. “Not exactly.”
“Then how…” Judith paused. “Moonshine?”
“Living in a forest has its advantages,” Kristin said, opening the fridge. “I’m a country farm girl.” She searched the shelves, apparently for pizza makings. “I shouldn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t want Mike to get fired.”
“No.” Judith took another sip. “No, not fired. How about sued?” she asked, reeling just enough that she had to lean against the sink.
Kristin laughed. “As in going blind or crazy? I know what I’m doing.” She closed the fridge. “I found wieners and ham, but no sausage or pepperoni. Do you keep pizza makings in the pantry or the freezer?”
“Pantry? Freezer?” What’s a pantry? What’s a freezer? Judith wondered. After a long pause, she compelled her brain to function. She’d drunk only half a glass of cider. Kristin had finished her drink and seemed in complete control of her faculties. She has a hollow leg, Judith suddenly remembered. A large and long hollow leg. Noticing that her daughter-in-law looked apprehensive, Judith set her glass down on the kitchen table. “I don’t have all the ingredients you need,” she blurted. “You’re kind to offer, but let’s call the pizza parlor at the top of the hill.” She gestured at the bulletin board by the half doors. “The number’s there along with a menu and some coupons. Go ahead, call and get something the boys like. I’m so sorry about the mix-up, but Mother can be forgetful. We really didn’t know you were coming.”
Kristin grimaced. “I wondered. Gosh, I’m afraid we’ve upset you. I should’ve double-checked. Maybe we should go home.”
Judith’s step was unsteady as she moved toward Kristin and hugged her. “No! We’re delighted to see you.” She let go of Kristin before the younger woman crushed her rib cage. “Get pizza. I’m going to the living room and pass out.”
Kristin’s anxious expression returned. “Are you sick?”
“No,” Judith said, teetering toward the half doors. “I’m drunk.”
When Judith woke up an hour and a half later, she realized that the hard cider wasn’t the only cause of her