Page 13 of His Loving Wife

“Look, I don’t want this to spoil our time here.”

“Are you doing this because I rented the boat?” he asks abruptly. His shoulders clench ever so slightly.

“No, Andrew. Why would you even think that?” It was never my intention to retaliate. “If Aster stopping by bothers you this much, I can think of an excuse to give her.”

He pauses, like he’s thinking over something. “No. It’s only one dinner, right? We can get through it.”

“Thank you.”

All I can hope is tomorrow night passes quickly.

Chapter 8

10 Months Ago

The Hidden Oaks neighborhood was ready for Halloween. Proactive parents had already dressed the sidewalks and light poles with reflective stickers. Each front porch had a menagerie of carved jack-o’-lanterns and hand-painted decorations. Some of the more ambitious residents even draped plastic skeletons from their front doors.

It was all too macabre, in Kate’s opinion. Not only because of what they’d experienced that summer, but because a much more gruesome act was currently underway in her home: a showdown between mother and teenage daughter.

Willow stomped around her bedroom wearing a black sports bra and cotton shorts with fishnet stockings underneath. Her heavy eye makeup was already beginning to run from the tears, making her look very ghoulish indeed.

“You shouldn’t even have a say in this,” she screamed.

Kate stood in the doorway, her arms crossed.

“I’m your mother. Of course, I have a say.”

“But it’s my outfit! My body!” With each word, Willow slapped one hand against the other, as though her argument needed this physical punctuation to get her point across. “You told me I could go to a costume party.”

“And you can still go, if you get your attitude under control.” Kate nodded to the wad of fabric on the bed. “I just don’t want you wearing that.”

It wasn’t worthy of being called a costume. It was barely a garment. The Lycra material shrunk up to the size of a hand towel when it wasn’t stretched across the skin. When Willow had tried it on, the fabric was practically see-through. Kate had demanded she take it off immediately. There was no way she would allow her teenage daughter to go out in public in something she herself would blush to wear around her own husband.

“It’s a costume, Mom. It’s the one night of the year you’re allowed to be a completely different person.”

“And for some reason the fashion industry has twisted that to mean women should dress as scantily as possible.”

“Do you realize how judgmental you sound?”

Kate opened her mouth and closed it. She hadn’t ever pictured herself being in this scenario, where she’d have to argue about how a woman should or shouldn’t dress. She wasn’t protesting her daughter’s costume choice because of her gender, but her age. The outfit made her look too mature, and Kate feared her daughter wasn’t capable of handling the attention that might bring.

“Call me judgmental. Call me an old-timer. I don’t care.”

“I plan on telling Doctor Arrington about this.”

Noah and Willow had both been going to therapy since the home invasion, but Kate suspected her daughter liked the opportunity to vent about her problems, outside what happened that awful night. It gave her a little spotlight, something every teenager craves. Right now, Willow was using her sessions as a threat, a way to pressure Kate into more lenient parenting, but Kate refused to take the bait.

“Feel free to tell Doctor Arrington whatever is on your mind,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you want to attend that party, you need to find something else to wear.”

Willow let out a ferocious howl. Kate turned on her heels, cradling her head with her hands. A headache was coming. What had once been the family’s most celebrated night of the year was turning into a nightmare. And as much as she’d like to blame the events from the summer, she worried something more organic was at work. The fact her daughter was getting older, bolder, wriggling from her grasp so quickly she didn’t know how to pull her back.

“What do you think?”

The quiet voice at the other end of the hallway belonged to Noah. He was standing in his doorway wearing black sweats with neon skeleton bones sewn onto the front. Kate couldn’t help but smile.

“You look terrifying,” she said.

“Do you think ten is too old to dress up for Halloween?”

---