TWENTY-SEVEN

Witches Ball

Halloween….

“An invitation to the Witches Ball.” The Gunnison Halloween Festival was set for 5 P.M.in the town square, and this invitation was for seven. It was Thursday, Halloween day, and I couldn’t wait to celebrate with the rest of the town tonight. Bailey was leaving tomorrow morning to go back to South Bend, and Jack was working the Festival, so Bailey and I were painting the town red, or black and orange since it was Halloween, and I was stoked. Looking at the invitation for a return sender, I didn’t find an RSVP. Strange. I was just about to toss it when Bailey walked in, and I showed it to her.

“Cool, we should go. It must be a private party.”

“I wish I knew who left it. If you want to go, I should find out if they need us to bring food, and I should pick up a bottle of wine for the hostess.” Growing up, my mother always said, “If someone goes to the trouble of hosting a party, you should always offer to bring food and never arrive without a hostess gift.” I’d always abided by that rule and never arrived invited to a social gathering without a bottle of wine. Making a mental note to call Lorraine since she probably knew who was hosting the party, I turned to the coffee pot and started looking for my coffee.

I’d spent the last two days packing for my move to Jack’s, but we were both too busy to haul the boxes down the mountain until this weekend. Maneuvering my way around stuff and finding my coffee and two coffee cups I hadn’t packed yet, I flipped the switch and turned to Bailey. “What are you up to today?”

“Depends. What time are we going into town?” Bailey inquired while I tossed bread into the toaster.

“I need to work on my Casino article, so I’m just staying home today. We can head in and be at the Festival when it starts. You’re all packed to leave tomorrow, right?”

“Packed and ready. I think I’ll head over to Crested first and do some shopping before we get ready. You need anything while I’m there?”

“Nope, I just need quiet and an internet connection.”

“Is Jack meeting us there?”

“No, he’s working the Festival.”

“You mean he won’t be walking around with us, his gun drawn, threatening men who look at you?” she laughed. She was clearly enjoying Jack’s possessive nature and, based on the costume she picked out, liked poking it as well. I laughed at her nonsense and poured our coffee. I’m sure Jack was just exaggerating when he went on about me wearing a revealing costume in public, and if he wasn’t, I guess we’d find out tonight.

***

“Mom, can you hook this for me?” I finished clasping the buckle on my boot and stood up, looked in the mirror and laughed. I was so getting thrown in jail.

Bailey entered my bedroom, stopped, whistled, and then said, “You better hide Jack’s gun.” She was not wrong; in fact, she was so not wrong I considered changing. This outfit might be poking at Jack a little too much.

Throwing that idea aside for now, I moved to Bailey, and she spun around so I could hook her necklace. She was wearing a less revealing cowgirl outfit, but not by much. Thankfully, the skirt was longer than my shorts and her boobs were covered. The overall look was flirty, but not risqué. She’d left the slut look to me.

“I’m having second thoughts about this outfit,” I announced while trying to cover my butt.

“No, you look hot, Mom. It’s perfect and Jack will love it.”

Thinking she really didn’t understand Jack, I explained, “Jack will love it in private. It’s the public part that concerns me.” My bravado about wearing whatever I wanted was faltering the closer we got to leaving. Jack was gonna go ballistic, I just knew it, and more to the fact, I didn’t think I was that comfortable showing this much skin, either.

“Nope, you’re not changing. This is a statement to Jack that you will always do as you please, no matter how much he yells.”

“Says the girl who is flying out in the morning and won’t be here to endure his anger,” I laughed.

“You rock the outfit, you’re wearing it, so grab your coat and let’s go.”

I looked in the mirror one last time, felt like making the sign of the cross to prepare myself against the up-coming war with Jack, and then grabbed my coat and purse. As I made my way to the front door, I snatched the Witches Ball invitation and a bottle of wine. I’d called Lorraine to ask if she knew who was throwing the ball, and she informed me it was quite an honor to receive the invitation and that it was hosted by a group of town leaders. “Only the who’s who of Gunnison got invitations,” she’d replied, so I figured, with my new position at the paper, I shouldn’t decline. So I bought wine and planned to make an appearance after enjoying the festival.

We headed to my Jeep, and for some reason, as I climbed in, I felt like I was heading to my doom. Chuckling for being so dramatic, I pulled out and turned my Jeep toward Gunnison and my first Colorado Halloween.

***

Gunnison business owners had pulled out all the stops. Each business was decorated to the nines with a ghoulish atmosphere, and there was plenty of candy for the goblins and ghosts. The bars and restaurants were open and thriving, tourists and locals all getting in the spirit of the holiday. Partiers were decked out as vampires, witches, the boys from Duck Dynasty. Bailey and I fit in and we had a ball. The sheriff’s department had barricaded the ends of several blocks so no cars could pass through, allowing everyone to mingle in the streets. With my hat and aviator glasses on, most I knew didn’t recognize me, and that afforded me the luxury of being seen by the deputies and Jack from a distance, but not having a badass sheriff breathe down my neck. I heard lots of comments like “You can cuff me anytime,” and “I’ll break the law if you haul me to your cell.”

Food and drink flowed and we saw a few fights between teenage boys, but all in all, the festival seemed to be a success. It was nearing time to leave to head to the Witches Ball when my phone rang, illuminating, “Bossy Calling”, so I answered it.

“Hello.”

“Where are you? I thought you’d have made it here by now.”

“We’ve been here a few hours, but we didn’t want to bother you,” I lied. Truth was if he didn’t see me, he couldn’t yell.

“I’m taking a break, you wanna meet up?” Oh, lord, decisions, decisions.

“We’re getting ready to leave. We got invited to the Witches Ball.” There was a pause and then an angry Jack spoke.

“You’re not going,” he snapped out.

“What?”

“I said you’re not going anywhere near that fucking ball.”

“Can you explain to me why, or is this just your general response to anything I want to do?” I replied, getting angry myself.

“I can give you two reasons.”

“And they would be?”

“One, the mayor organizes that party and he will be there,” I heard from behind me.

“And two, you’re not going anywhere else in that costume except straight home,” he barked as I turned around and looked up. Shit!

Hands on his hips, glaring down at me, his eyes raked over my body, and his jaw got tight. I could tell he was about to blow, but unfortunately for a drunken guy who walked up, slapped my ass, and shouted, “I want to confess, torture me, and I’ll tell you where the body is buried,” he let loose on him instead.

It all happened quickly. Bailey started to laugh—she’s twenty, everything is funny—the drunk threw an arm around my shoulder, and before I could remove it, Jack’s head spun around in a move comparable to the “Exorcist”; his eyes rolled back in his head as he lunged for the guy, grabbed his arm around my shoulder, and pinned him to the ground. He looked back at me and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Put your coat on and cover yourself. Then get your ass home before I kill someone.”

I went to say something, but he cut me off, “It doesn’t require a comment. Just put your coat on now,” he barked.

I still didn’t move, ’cause his bossy had stepped up to a whole new level and moved right on to jerk. I narrowed my eyes, and he watched me get pissed as he stood with the drunken guy, holding his arms behind him.

Again he ordered, “Put. Your. Fucking. Coat. On. Now.”

Bailey grabbed my arm and broke my stare, whispering, “I think you better put your coat on.”

I was trying to decide if doing as he wished was giving in, allowing him to dictate me, or if giving in was just the right thing to do since it bothered him, when I heard him count.

“One, two—”

“Are you counting down?” I hissed.

“I get to five, and that coat isn’t on, we got problems. Three—”

“You are not counting down as if I were a child.”

“Four—” I looked at his eyes, and he paused to see if I would comply. I could tell he wanted me to disobey. Insufferable man. So I decided to spoil his fun and put my coat on. He didn’t grin in victory, though, but remained angry.

Jack was still holding the drunk and pulling out his cuffs when I decided it was time to go. I put my arm through Bailey’s and pulled her with me; then I gave Jack an “I’m not speaking to you” look as Bailey and I headed off toward my Jeep.

“Straight home,” I heard Jack call from behind me, but that hit me wrong, so I turned back to him, and he raised an eyebrow in question.

Since I was a good twenty feet away, and he couldn’t reach me, I felt bold and replied, “Don’t wait up, Jack. I have a ball to attend.” With that parting shot, I turned and kept on walking, quickly I might add, since I was only brave when there was a good distance between me and Jack.

Bailey leaned in and whispered, “I think the costume pissed him off.”

I rolled my eyes at her intuitiveness and laughed, “Yeah, it pissed him off, and then he became a jerk and pissed me off. Pissed I can handle, but jerk? Not so much.”

Bailey turned around to see if Jack was following us and then turned back and said, “That Mark guy is behind us.” I looked over my shoulder, and he raised a bottle of beer at me.

“Walk faster,” I begged, and we picked up the pace. I didn’t need him mixed in with the already bad situation. I just kept walking, dragging Bailey with me, and when I saw my Jeep, we double timed it and got in.

“Witches Ball or home?” Bailey inquired.

“Honestly, I was tired and thinking home before Jack went all he-man jerk on me, so now I say Witches Ball just out of protest.”

“Awesome. That’s the spirit, Jennifer. Show him who’s the boss.”

I smiled at my daughter and her skewed view of Jack and me. She’d learn just as I had: that there was only one person wearing the pants in this relationship. I was just trying to ignore the fact.

***

Staring up at the huge luxury cabin decked out in orange and black twinkle lights, Bailey whistled. I just stared in envy. A two-story log cabin that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine stretched out before us. Wrap-around decks on both levels were filled with people in all sorts of costumes.

Bailey whispered, “Wow,” and grabbed my hand. She tugged me up the front steps and into the foyer. Inside, the furnishings screamed money: western and cabin décor that was tasteful and staged to an inch of perfection, proving that sometimes money could buy happiness. It. Was. The. Bomb. Huge, but comfortable, not ostentatious, more Ralph Lauren meets Gunnison. The party had all the trimmings: champagne fountains flowing on both levels, tables covered with food, chefs manning the stations carving prime rib, while bowls of shrimp, pâté, canapés, and crab legs stared back at us. Never had I been to a gathering like this, or seen a spread of food like this. To say I wanted to pull out my phone and snap a picture to post on Facebook, stating, “You won’t believe where I am” was an understatement. Bailey read my thoughts and snapped a picture; she posted it, tagging my name.

“Shall we?” I asked my daughter, the table of food laid out in front of us.

“I suppose you could twist my arm,” Bailey laughed and then grabbed my hand, and we hit that table like a cow to a trough. In other words, we loaded up.

Moving through the crowd, I observed who was here and kept an eye out for the mayor; Jack may not want me here, and truth be told, I didn’t want to have to deal with the mayor either, but I figured I could avoid him with this many people if I kept my eyes open. Standing off to the side, we people watched. Bailey and I loved to go to the mall when she was younger and watch the people, making up identities for them.

“Two o’clock, pudgy man with the blond bimbo. I say he left his wife at home and picked up a hooker for the night.”

I turned my head to the right and spit out my drink when I locked eyes on Bob, my editor, and Amber Welsh. Bailey laughed out loud at my display, pounding my back as I choked on my drink. My luck was not shining on me this night. Amber heard the commotion and turned her head. Recognition hit her, and I saw her look around for Jack. I had a very bad feeling that, when she didn’t see him, round two was approaching, and without Jack here to hold me back, I might not hold my tongue. And with my boss standing at her side, I really, really needed to hold my tongue.

Using my head for once, I grabbed Bailey’s hand and started walking towards the staircase, Bailey laughing as she followed.

“Wait, do you know them?” she asked.

“That’s my boss and the bimbo is an old girlfriend of Jack’s. She doesn’t like me, as in she hates me, so let’s go downstairs,” I replied, moving fast down the stairs. When we got to the bottom and turned the corner, I ran straight into Mayor Hall. Swear, if I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.

“If this is what the sheriff’s department is hiring these days, I’ll make sure to increase the budget for more.”

Bailey, being my daughter, of course sensed he was a player the minute he opened his mouth.

“You must be the mayor. Jack’s mentioned you,” Bailey interrupted.

“And you must be Jennifer’s daughter. You’re just as beautiful as your mother.” John’s eyes made their way to her chest, then her legs, and I instinctively stepped between them, grabbing her arm and moving her out of his line of sight.

“Mayor, how nice to see you again. Thank you for the invitation.” John leered at me, his eyes now moving to my chest. He tried to put his arm around me, so I stepped back and right into Amber Welsh. Fucking, fucking hell.

“I see while Jack is working, you’re out enticing all the other men in Gunnison. I knew when I laid eyes on you in Mike’s you were a slut.”

I sucked in a breath, and then heard Bailey do the same, and before I could shove the pointed toe of my boot up her ass, she stepped in. Oh, dear lord, I hate when Jack is right. I shouldn’t have come.

“Bailey,” I snapped and grabbed her arm before she defended my honor. She turned back to me, pissed the hell off, and I couldn’t blame her, but I needed to defuse this situation now.

“Get our coats, ok? I’ll be right with you.” Bailey looked between us both and relented. She nodded and headed for the coatroom at the front of the house.

I turned to John and Amber and, speaking through my teeth, said, “Pleasure seeing you both, as always. If you’ll excuse me, we’ll just be leaving.”

Without a backward glance, I turned in the direction my daughter went. I’d only made it three steps when I bumped into someone. Stumbling back, I turned my head and smiled.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I laughed.

“Follow me. I saw the altercation and know a shortcut.”

***

Finally finished for the night, I headed to my truck. I had a wayward woman to find, and I’d better find her ass at home if she knew what was good for her. My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I grabbed it and saw it was Bailey calling. If she thinks I’m letting her off the hook for that stripper outfit she put her mom in, she better think twice. If she wasn’t heading back to school, I’d tan both their hides and ground her for a month, but then again…

“Tell me where you are, and I’ll consider not grounding you for a month.”

“Jack, oh, God, Jack, please help me. Mom’s missing.”