Page 20 of Wrap Around
"Well, I guess then they decided to have a little snack," Lily continues. "I come downstairs and they're sitting on the kitchen floor looking guilty as sin with a whole empty jar in front of them. Gideon was daring her to drink the juice." She rolls her eyes, pursing her lips to try to hide her laugh. "Addy, drunk on pickles and sweet tea, screams 'I love pickles!' at the top of her lungs. Not to be outdone, Gideon here shouts back, just as loudly, 'I love pickles more!' which devolved into a debate over who loves pickles more, then who loves who more, then which one of them is a pickle. I don't really understand how they got there, if I'm being perfectly honest." She's shaking her head, but she's smiling.
Addy runs over to Silas, points, and says, "You pickle!"
Silas points to himself. "Me?"
Watching him with my sister and Adaline makes something in my chest pull tight. It's some kind of special torture, because I can't hate it—can't hatehim—when he's like this.
"Is it time to go?" Lily asks.
"Oh, wait. Hang on a sec." I open the back of my truck and open the paper bag.
God, this is stupid. I almost talk myself out of it—almost—but when I look over my shoulder, Adaline is bouncing on her toes, waiting to see what I have for her. Because, of course I have something for her.
First, I pull the stuffie out and present it to her. "Bluey can't go trick-or-treating without her little sister," I say. Adaline screams and jumps up and down, hugging the little stuffed dog tightly to her chest. I chuckle. "Bingo is happy to see you too, Bluey."
While she's distracted, I pull the rest of the surprise from the bag. It's cheap, just something I grabbed from the craft section at the dollar store, but I tried to fix it up a little. Some felt pieces glued onto a tan hoodie, a plastic black nose, and I grew myscruff out a little bit. It's nowhere near as expert looking as my sister's handiwork. In hindsight, I probably should have asked for her help, but I didn't decide to do it until after practice today.
I probably look ridiculous, but it's close enough that Addy knows exactly who I'm supposed to be the second I turn around.
"M'uncle Gid-On Lucky's dad!!!"
She's so excited, she's babbling unintelligibly, tugging her daddy's sleeve and pointing at me, jumping up and down, little hands gesturing wildly.
Silas crouches to her level, laughing, to try and figure out what she's going on about.
He glances up at me. "Apparently Lucky's dad and Bandit are best friends."
Addy claps her hands, looking so incredibly happy it hurts.
I smirk. "Knew I should have gone as Muffin."
Everyone cracks up, even Adaline, as if she understands the joke. And just like that, the tension lessens enough to breathe. At least a little. I feel better and worse simultaneously.
We follow after our little blue puppy as she races down the sidewalk, pumpkin bucket swinging wildly and dropping candy everywhere since it's half full already.
"Your neighborhood really goes all out," I remark.
Every house is decked out in fake spiderwebs, flickering lights, giant inflatables. Adaline does not appreciate the realistic-looking witch that cackles when you approach, until Silas holds her and shows her how it works. After that she spends a good five minutes running up to it, then running away squealing with laughter when it goesoff.
Kids swarm the street in every direction, little princesses and tiny superheroes, ghouls and ghosts shrieking into the night. Neighbors wave to each other, stopping to chat between candy handoffs. One of the houses has even set up a folding table at the end of their driveway, giving out full sized candy bars for the kids and tiny liquor bottles for the grownups.
Lily hoots with laughter and grabs one immediately. Silas waves it off with a smile, chasing after Addy when she finds another scary decoration to harass. I decide not to make any jokes about her technically still being underage for another two months. She hands me a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels, which I accept, peeling off the cap and tossing it back before I can second-guess myself. Lily smiles.
"This is different," I say, feeling the warmth in my chest and stomach immediately. I look around at the glowing pumpkins and happy faces. "Doesn't seem so evil from this side, does it?"
"Daddy would say it's the Devil tricking us, luring us in with paltry temptations that will rot our teeth and stomachs and give us nightmares."
"And then we'll have toothaches and heartburn to add to our eternal punishment," I say with a smirk.
It's quiet for a while, and Lily looks pensive. I worry she might think I'm judging her for doing everything so differently from how we grew up. Our church didn't celebrate holidays at all, not even Christmas or birthdays. And Halloween? That was the Devil's night, and joining in on such festivities would be perceived as a personal affront to God.
I’m positive Lily remembers the one time, shortly after we’d started public school, a teacher had handed out little bags of candy to everyone on Halloween day. Dad threw them in the fireplace like candy corn was a gateway drug to sin and threatened to continue homeschooling us.
"There's nothing wrong with doing things your way," I tell her. "It’s alright if people want to believe the other way too, but I don't think you have to be so strict in your beliefs either. I think you can believe in your own way. God is supposed to be all-knowing, right? So, you'd think he'd know your heart. And how could he ever judge someone so genuinely good as anything other than worthy of heaven?"
Her lips wobble, and she leans against my shoulder. "I'm not sure what I believe in anymore," she admits. "There's so much we were taught that I refuse to believe is the right way. Not just silly stuff like Halloween," she says, gesturing to where her daughter is charming everyone she walks past, proudly showing off her costume. Everyone coos over her like she's the cutest thing they've ever seen. Which, let's be honest, she is. "But bigger stuff, too. Like, if there's a God and he didn't want me to get pregnant, why did he have the church keep us so ignorant? Or if God wouldn't love someone because they’re gay–" I stiffen, unsure what she means by that, or why she's saying it. "Then why would he make them that way? As if loving another person could ever be wrong." She huffs and shrugs.
Ahead of us, Adaline turns around and yells something to her mama. Lily smiles broadly and runs up, gathering her up and snuggling her against her body. Addy wriggles down, pointing to another house with a giant pumpkin inflatable in their yard. Lily follows her to go look at it. Meanwhile, Silas pulls back, still a little ahead of me. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his dog onesie, watching on affectionately.
