CHAPTER TWO
OLIVIA
THE HALLOWEEN BONFIRE BLAZES AGAINST THE night sky, patrolled and tended by several residents to ensure everyone’s safety. Wizard’s Park is filled with parents supervising their children, most of whom are running around comparing their candy hauls and sneaking pieces from their buckets.
A line of people snakes behind the trees where the Mirror Lake Railway depot is awash in orange lights for the haunted train rides. Dean and I find Kelsey on a bench, trying her best to ration Nicholas and Bella’s candy, even though their plastic pumpkins are half-filled with empty wrappers.
“Sorry,” Kelsey says wryly. “But Nicholas did share his M&M’s with Archer.”
“Ah, well.” Dean shrugs. “This is the night for treats, isn’t it?”
He catches my eye and winks. I smile.
“Thanks, Kels.” I pick up a few wrappers littering the ground. “Nicholas, do you have all your stuff?”
“My sword is in Aunt Kelsey’s car.”
“Come on, Snowbell.” Dean hauls Bella into his arms and rubs his nose against hers. “Way past your bedtime.”
Dean and I load up with our children, their pumpkins, coats, gloves, and bits and pieces of their costumes. After saying goodbye to Kelsey, we walk back to the car and buckle the kids into their seats.
“Halloween candy,” Nicholas says as Dean maneuvers out of the crowded parking lot. “That’s an Important Thing.”
“True,” Dean agrees. “And town bonfires.”
“Jack-o’-lanterns,” I say.
“Ghosts,” Bella adds. “They were on train.”
“Yeah, but they’re not Important,” Nicholas says, his mouth sounding suspiciously stuffed with chocolate.
“On Halloween night, I think they are,” Dean says. “Along with witches, goblins, and monsters.”
“And angels and devils,” I point out.
“Devils aren’t Important Things,” Bella remarks.
“Sure they are. If there were no devils, there wouldn’t be any angels. You can’t have the good without the bad.”
“Or the sad without the glad,” Nicholas says. “Or the best without the rest.”
“Or the dad without the plaid,” Dean suggests.
We all chuckle.
I look out the window as we pass our former apartment on Avalon Street, remembering the fall mornings when Dean would sit on the balcony in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms. I remember pushing aside the blue curtains and joining him with a tray of coffee and muffins.
Now the French doors of the apartment are closed, the balcony empty. I don’t think anyone has lived there since Dean and I left, and the thought elicits a twinge of sorrow. That apartment was where Dean and I began our lives in Mirror Lake. The home where we both loved wildly and overcame so much. It’s a place that should still be filled with life. It’s an Important Thing.
I glance into the backseat of the car. Bella is already asleep, and Nicholas is struggling to stay awake. There’s a smear of chocolate on Nicholas’s face, and Bella’s hair is a mess from the cupcake hat.
Important Things, indeed.
I turn back around, my heart feeling both rock-solid and unbearably fragile. Nicholas was the one who started the Important Things family game, after he and I read Stuart Little and Stuart asks a classroom to name some very important things, like a note of music and ice cream with chocolate sauce.
“What do you think are Important Things?” Nicholas had asked me.
After he and I had listed all the Most Important Things—our family and friends, love, our house, our good health, the café, Nicholas’s and Bella’s schools and teachers, and Dad’s work—Nicholas thought we should keep an eye out for other Important Things and keep lists. The only rule is that we can’t repeat the same thing twice, but it’s okay if we forget that we already named it.
So our basket of Important Things gets fuller every day, and we keep track on our individual lists.
NICHOLAS
Star Wars. Bugs. Legos. Cartoons. Learning to ride my bike without training wheels. Reading with Mom. My best friend Henry. Playing baseball with Dad. Pirate sloops. Hamburgers.
BELLA
Flowers. Hoot the Owl. Crayons. Cupcakes. Hedgehogs.
LIV
Twelve Oaks. Good books. Clear fall days when the leaves are red and gold. Sailboats on the lake. The bouquinistes along the Seine. Nicholas and Bella’s laughter. Learning something new. Keeping your word. Ice Cream. Musicals.
DEAN
My wife and children.
(Nicholas: “You always say that, Dad.”)
DEAN
(List #2)
Frisbee in the park. Coffee. A brand new pen. Shaving soap. Bella’s drawings. Discovering a new transept wall at Altopascio. Watching Nicholas play soccer. The Crusades. A dedicated student. Jitter Beans. Library call numbers.
When we get home from the bonfire, Dean carries a sleeping Bella to her room. Nicholas adds “Halloween candy” to his List of Important Things before I coax him upstairs and into his pajamas. I tuck him into bed and turn off the light.
“Sleep well, Nick at Night.” I kiss him on the forehead. “I love you.”
He mumbles something in response and rolls over. I pass Dean in the hallway as we each go to say goodnight to the other child, exchanging a fist-bump of mutual triumph over the fact that both our children are in bed sleeping.
I go into Bella’s room. Dean managed to get her out of her cupcake costume, but didn’t bother changing her out of her white leotard and sweatpants.
Just the sight of my daughter sprawled out on the bed like a skydiver, her head nestled against the blue pillow and one arm around Hoot, makes my heart ache with love and gratitude.
I bend to kiss her, and her long eyelashes flutter against her perfect creamy cheeks. I pull the comforter over her before returning to the master bedroom.
“Oh, don’t take it off,” I say mournfully, leaning against the doorjamb as I watch Dean unfasten the ties of his cape.
“I’m too sexy for my cape,” he replies.
I laugh. “You’re too sexy for a lot of things, professor.”
Dean winks at me as he hangs the cape in the back of the closet. “If you ever want me to wear it just for you, beauty, all you have to do is ask.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I remark. “Same goes for my wings.”
I walk to the bathroom, feeling his gaze follow me and warm every part of my being. We get ready for bed and crawl under the covers, fitting our bodies against each other with a silent click that locks us together.
Despite all the changes in our lives, this falling-asleep position has always been a constant—resting my head on Dean’s chest, soothed by the sound of his strong, everlasting heartbeat and the gentle slide of his fingers through my hair.
I shift, pressing my breasts against him. A twinge of discomfort travels up my side, and I wiggle again. I rub the area under my left breast, where the skin is tender and a bit irritated from Dean’s scruff.
“What’s going on, squirmy?” he asks, his eyes closed and his body relaxed.
“You marked me with your whisker burn.”
“Ah. The price you pay when you dance with the devil.”
“Well, you do lure me into places where angels fear to tread.”
“That’s why you should give the devil his due.”
“Oh, I will.” I rest my elbow on his chest and lift myself to look at him. “After all, he does know how to show a girl one hell of a good time.”
Dean opens his eyes, his gaze meeting mine with hot tenderness. “Only when the girl is heaven sent.”
“We are such dorks,” I murmur the instant before our lips touch.