be so kind and gentle makes me want to call up that old daycare director and give her a piece of my mind. There is no way he was causing trouble with other kids over there. He was being bullied, I know he was. One of these days when I can trust myself to be civil, I’ll call her and ask her what she thinks happened. But I’m not in that place yet.
Dev walks up and puts his hand on my back, pulling me up against his side as we walk down the hallway behind the boys. I hold the bowl of candy under my opposite arm. “You ready to have some fun? Get your sugar rush on?”
I look up him, still impressed by how impossibly tall he is. “I was born ready. Are you?”
He reaches down and grabs my butt. “I already have enough sugar right here.”
I whack him on the stomach with the back of my hand, acting like he’s a troll for doing that, but we both know better. Of course there’s been no time this week for more sex, what with the kids at home at night and strict bedtimes for everyone, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it eighteen hours of every day. Forget buying a dildo; I’m only settling for the real thing.
I still can’t believe we did what we did in the back of his car. It’s awakened something inside me that I didn’t even know was there. I feel young, wild, and free. Even more so than I did when I was just out of college. And that’s a pretty big deal for a single mom with three kids. I’m going to relish it for as long as it lasts.
The kids are gathered in the foyer waiting for us slowpokes.
“Sophie, can you open the door?” Dev asks.
She nods very seriously, as if she’s been given a critical task. She stands there, holding it open so we can all go out before her. I kiss her delicate little cheek on the way past. I’m so proud of her.
Out on the porch are two giant lumps; they look like cone-shaped piñatas designed to resemble . . . pickles.
“Cool,” Sophie says. I’m pretty sure she has no idea what she’s looking at. I lock the door behind her, setting the bowl of candy we’re giving away on a chair on the porch next to the sign Sophie made instructing people to serve themselves.
“What’re those?” Melody asks.
Sammy runs over to the nearest piece. “That’th a crocodile! A big one! Awethome!” He looks up at me. “Mama, I want to be a crocodile!”
I envy my son’s creative vision. No way would I have pegged these two papier-mâché monstrosities as crocodile parts. “Not this year. You’re Spider-Man, remember?” I couldn’t believe my luck when he told me he wanted to be old Spidey again, and his costume still mostly fits. Yay for Spandex!
Jacob speaks up. “I can be Spider-Man’s pet crocodile. We can be a team.”
Sammy thinks about that for a few seconds and then nods. “Okay. I think Thpider-Man could have a crocodile for a pet.”
Dev leans down and whispers in my ear. “Crisis averted.”
“You’re telling me,” I mumble back.
Dev lowers Jacob and his chair together down the stairs to the front walk, and then spends a few minutes attaching the crocodile tail and head onto the wheelchair. When he’s done, we have a five-foot-long reptilian beast rolling down the sidewalk, surrounded by Spider-Man, a fairy princess, and a tiny, beautiful vampire, complete with cape.
I look up at Dev. “What are you supposed to be?” He’s dressed all in green. Now that I have time to focus on him, I realize how thoroughly he’s covered himself in one color. I can’t stop laughing.
He pauses and holds his arms out. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a green bean.”
I shake my head, grinning until I get a cheek cramp. “You’re too much.”
He doesn’t say anything; he just reaches out and takes my hand. We walk down the street together, the witch and the green bean, letting the kids go up to the neighbors’ front doors on their own. It’s a pretty big deal, because normally I insist on accompanying them all the way in.
Within two houses, a routine is established. The girls are in the lead, but they look back as they’re going up to each door, making sure the boys are close behind. Sammy walks next to Jacob, in the grass if necessary. He has taken