Chapter Eight

Eli

A high-collared black cape lined with red velvet lies on my bed when I return from my evening jog around the farm. On top of it is a transparent pouch containing what looks like plastic dentures with long fangs.

I flatten my palm against my forehead. Didn't I tell everyone I wasn't going to wear a costume? What is this Dracula outfit doing on my bed, then? Was it Janice's idea? Or Quinn's?

Quinn. She's like the wind here in the countryside. Strong. Refreshing. Coming at you from every direction. It catches you when you least expect it and slaps your face when you're unaware. It makes you feel alive. It messes everything up. Then it sweeps you away and you just find yourself getting dragged along. You fight it at first, but then you find it almost fun and satisfying to give in. You almost want to tame it, to catch it, but you can't, so you just go along.

My eyes grow wide.

Fuck. Since when have I thought about a woman this much? And since when have I been a poet?

I know one thing. It's been too long since I've had a woman. That's probably why Quinn is messing me up.

Still, I'm not wearing that thing.

I throw the cape in the hamper along with my dirty shirt on my way to the shower. When I'm done, I put on my clothes and head downstairs. I hear the music blaring even before I get down to the second floor.

It seems like the party has already started.

I follow the music to the living room. As I pass through one of the arched entrances, I duck to keep the cotton wool cobwebs from getting stuck in my damp hair.

There are even more cobwebs inside the room, especially in the fireplace. A few have plastic spiders entangled in them. Different hats - a jester's hat, a wizard's hat, a witch's hat and a Viking helmet - are lined up on the mantel, and above them glow-in-the-dark stars of all sizes have been stuck to the stones. There's a cauldron on the rug where the coffee table used to be, and on the windowsills pumpkins of all sizes sit between brass candlesticks.

Considering Quinn, Janice and the kids had only a few hours to decorate, this isn't too bad at all.

Speaking of the kids, they're seated on the beanbags in the corner, going over a book. Just as she requested, Marianne is dressed up as a pixie. Well, a fairy, Tinker Bell to be exact, but close enough. Two pairs of transparent wings with golden edges stick out from her back just above a large, glittering green bow, and her golden hair is braided and coiled to crown the top of her head. Clive sits next to her in his red, white and blue Captain America costume, shield on his back.

A fairy and a hero who can't even fly. An unlikely pair for sure. And yet they seem to have hit it off. They almost look like brother and sister, in fact.

It must be because Marianne hasn't been around a lot of kids. I'm guessing Clive is the same. So what if they're a few years apart? I always seem to get along better with people who aren't exactly my age. And what if she's a girl and he's a boy? Kids are kids until the world sees them differently.

In any case, it's reassuring.

Janice is in the room as well, all dolled up. Literally. She looks like a real life rag doll with her orange wig that has braided pigtails running past her shoulders, a frilly white bonnet, a blue and white dress and striped red and white knee socks. She's occupied at the moment, making sure each cupcake and sandwich on the food table looks perfect.

Meticulous as always.

But where's Quinn? I turn my head just in time to see her enter the room, and my breath catches.

She's dressed just like Marianne, and yet her costume looks entirely different. The green fabric clings to her body like a second skin. It hugs her waist and molds around her breasts, which are nearly spilling out from the top of the dress. The tattered hem reaches halfway down her thighs while a layer of sheer yellow chiffon stretches below her knees.

Who knew she was hiding such an amazing body beneath those boyish, childish clothes she always wears?

It takes all of my will to bring my gaze up to her face as she walks towards me.

"Where's your costume?" Quinn asks.

"What costume?"

Her ruby lips form a pout.

"I said I wasn't wearing one, remember?"

"Spoilsport," she accuses.

I want to tell her she looks great, but the compliment gets stuck in my throat.

She turns her back to me so I can see the top of her spine. My eyes follow it down beneath her dress, to the small of her back and lower. Even from the back, her costume shows off her curves nicely.

She claps her hands. "Since we're all here, we might as well get this party started. Should we eat first or play games first?"

"Play games!" Marianne shouts.

"Play games it is. Janice, do we have the candies ready for the prizes?"

Janice gives a thumbs-up.

"Good." Quinn touches her chin. "Now, what shall we play for our first game? Let's see..."

~

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we are down to our last game," Janice announces two hours, seven games - or is it eight? - and several candies, cupcakes and sandwiches later. After the first three games, the kids started snacking on the candies, so we decided to stop and eat first.

"And this final game is - drum roll please - apple bobbing."

Quinn claps her hands. Clive and Marianne don't seem to have heard. They're too busy going through their candy stash to listen.

Janice leaves the room and comes back with a basket of apples. She places a few inside the cauldron.

"Now, since there's only one cauldron, everyone will take a turn," Janice explains. "Everyone has a minute to get as many apples as they can with just their mouth. The apple has to be taken out of the water and dropped in the bowl to count. Whoever gets the most apples wins. Now, who wants to go first?"

Quinn raises her hand. "I can go first."

She kneels by the cauldron and leans forward. I try to look away from the top of her breasts. When I fail, I move to the other side. It's no use. I can see the outline of her panties against her dress, and it's every bit as enticing as the view from the front.

The fact that I can see her head moving up and down isn't helping either.

Fuck. I can't wait until this minute is over.

Finally, it is. Quinn manages to get four apples. Clive goes next and scores four as well. After I take off my sweater to keep the sleeves from getting soaked, I take my turn. I end up with five apples as well as a wet shirt.

As I dry the front with a paper towel, I catch Quinn staring at my upper body. She quickly looks away, though, and as she tucks some strands of copper hair behind her ear, I can almost swear she's blushing. A grin forms on my lips as I put my sweater back on.

Janice goes next and gets two apples, which she gets furious about. Then Marianne goes last. She can't reach the apples if she kneels, so she just bends over the cauldron. She grips the edges and dives in.

Yup, dives in.

The water splashes and spills, but she doesn't seem to care. She just keeps going for those apples like some wild animal, sinking her teeth into them and throwing them out of the cauldron. By the time her minute is over, the rug is soaked and so is her dress, but her wet face has a huge smile, which grows even wider as Janice tells her she got seven apples.

"Seven?" She jumps up and down.

As Quinn starts to dry off, I simply shake my head in disbelief.

Who knew my daughter was so good at bobbing for apples?

~

"Your daughter is full of surprises, isn't she, Mr. Strauss?" Quinn pops another slice of apple inside her mouth as she sits back on the couch.

I sit back as well and take a sip from my bottle of beer.

It's just the two of us in the living room now. Marianne and Clive are asleep upstairs and Janice is busy with something else.

"Please call me Eli," I tell her. "There's no need to be so formal after we've played so many games together."

Quinn chuckles. "I guess you're right, especially since I beat you in most of them."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Frankly, I don't really know if she did and I'm not sure I believe her. I'm not saying she's lying. She just... seems to hate losing, just like that other girl from way back. Come to think of it, didn't she have red hair, too?

"I guess I'm glad I didn't force Clive to go trick-or-treating." Quinn grabs another slice of apple and bites the tip off with a crunch. "This party ended up being fun."

"Yeah, the kids seemed to have fun," I agree.

She throws me a puzzled look. "Only the kids?"

"And Janice."

She gives another chuckle. "You should let her have fun more often. She works hard."

"I think she finds hard work fun."

She shrugs. "Maybe you're right. But what about you? Didn't you have fun?"

"I did," I admit. "Though you seemed to have had the most fun."

"I thought it was Marianne. I still can't get over how she went for those apples."

"I didn't know she liked apples. And she doesn't even like her baths."

"Kids. Sometimes you wonder if they really came from you or they were dropped from another planet that didn't want them."

I grin.

She looks at me and smiles. "Maybe Marianne got her apple bobbing skills from you. I mean, you did great, too."

"Yeah."

"I bet she got some other stuff from you, too. Well, clearly not the looks, but maybe..." Quinn narrows her eyes at me.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Sorry, I can't tell."

I snort. "Clive doesn't seem like he takes after you, either. He's mature, smart, behaved."

Quinn places her hands on her hips. "Are you insulting me, Eli Strauss?"

I chuckle. She gets riled up easily, and I swear she looks prettier when she does, too.

Prettier? When did I even start to think of her as pretty?

"For your information, Clive got his brains from me," she says.

"And his stubborn streak?"

She sighs. "Maybe."

I take another sip of beer. "Seriously, though, who do you think Clive takes after?"

Quinn frowns. "If you're trying to ask me about Clive's father, don't. It's not my favorite topic."

Now I'm curious why. I thought he was dead, like Meredith, but from what Quinn just said, I'm guessing things didn't go well between them. I don't even think they were married. Was it an affair? Was he an older, married man? Were they college sweethearts who drifted apart maybe? Or maybe they were dating and then he left her after he found out about the baby. The suspense is killing me and I don't even know why.

"As far as I'm concerned, he's a ghost," Quinn says.

"Well, it is Halloween."

She doesn't bite. "Then let's talk about Halloween. What's your best memory of Halloween?"

I take another sip and shrug. "I wasn't really allowed to go trick-or-treating..."

"You weren't?" Her eyes grow wide.

"So it would have to be the parties. The ones in college were especially cool."

To my surprise, she gives an expression of disgust. "Nah. Those were too much even for me."

"So you did go to some?"

"Just one." She crosses her legs and my gaze gets drawn to her thighs.

"What did you dress up as?"

"Nothing special. Just a witch."

My eyebrows rise. That girl was dressed up as a witch, too. And she had red hair. And she hated losing.

I look at Quinn. What if she was that girl?

"Eli?" Quinn asks.

I touch her cheek and stare into her eyes. Amber eyes. Did that girl have amber eyes? I can't remember. And I didn't see her face. But I know she made my veins buzz the way they're doing now. And I know she felt amazing.

Was that Quinn? Maybe if I kiss her, I'll find out.

I lean forward, but before my lips can touch hers, Quinn pulls away. She gets off the couch with a glare.

"What was that?"

I could ask myself the same thing. What was I thinking? There's no way it could have been her. She looks like she's lived here all her life. And now that I'm looking at her clearly again, her hair seems darker. I see the scar beneath her left jaw for the first time, too. That girl didn't have that. She had a scar, but it was on her back.

I feel like punching myself.

What am I doing? Did I want it to be her so badly?

"I'm sorry," I say.

It must be the Halloween fever or something.

"I got caught up in a memory and mistook you for someone from a long time ago."

Quinn frowns. "Or maybe you're just drunk."

I shrug as I finish my beer. "Or maybe I got possessed."

She snorts. "I think I'll change and go home now."

"Now?" I set down my bottle. "You're not staying over? But Clive's already asleep."

"He can stay. I'll go home."

I glance at my watch. "But it's late. And dark."

"I can take care of myself."

I don't doubt it. Even so...

"What if you run into some ghosts?"

Quinn glances over her shoulder. "Then I'll kick them in the balls."