Page 1 of Halloween in Sleepy Hollow
CHAPTER 1
ARI
I always knew Cash would be an incredible dad.
From the moment I told him I was pregnant—unexpectedly, I may add—he was all in.
Nearly five years later, his response is still burned into my memory. I was so nervous that morning, afraid Cash would think it was far too soon for a baby. That our fledgling relationship might be tested too much. That he’d feel pressured into more commitment than he wanted.
But in just a few sentences, all my worries disappeared.
“I know I want to be with you,” he said as we stood in the kitchen on Christmas morning, my heart pounding out of my chest and my poor first-trimester stomach churning. “And that includes having children with you. The timing of that doesn’t matter. I want you and our children. No matter when it happens.”
And in the years since, I’ve never doubted him for a second.
How could I when he’s done everything in his power to make our daughter happy?
His love for Winnie is in everything he does; from rearranging his work schedule so he can attend all her pee-wee softball games to having tea with her at the American Girl Doll store in Manhattan for her birthday. He shows how much he loves her every night as he reads book after book to her before bed, sometimes even falling asleep with Winnie cuddled up on his chest.
And tonight.
As I watch Cash crouched beside Winnie at the craft table, gamely glueing sequins onto a pumpkin at her insistent directions, my chest squeezes with love and affection for both of them.
My handsome husband looks nothing like the successful business owner he is, dressed as a fuzzy red dog with long, floppy ears and a jaunty tail. “I want you to be Clifford,” she informed him last month while we browsed the costume shop in nearby White Plains. “He’s my favorite dog. And you’re my favorite person.”
A beat later, Winnie looked at me with a sheepish expression. “You’re my favorite, too, Mommy. I can have two favorite people, can’t I?”
Of course she can. I know I do.
Before Winnie arrived, I was actually worried I wouldn’t have enough love for the two of them. But the second she was placed in my arms, and I looked over at Cash to see tears of joy running down his cheeks, I realized there was plenty of room in my heart for both of them.
And seeing my husband and daughter bonding like this—Winnie’s sweet littleface so intent on what Cash is doing, her adorable furred kitten paw resting on his arm—I couldn’t imagine being any happier than this.
Sometimes I think back to the early days of being back in Sleepy Hollow and I wonder how I got lucky enough to end up here.
Is it karma after everything I’ve been through? A fortunate twist of luck? Or perhaps, as I like to think, Cash and I were fated to be together all along.
Whatever the reason, I’m thankful for it.
As Winnie solemnly glues a red sequin to the tip of Cash’s nose, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Rather than pulling it off, he adds two more of them, so now he looks like a blend of Clifford and Rudolph.
I can’t resist capturing the moment, so I pull out my phone and snap a photo of them, making sure to include the sparkly enhancement to Cash’s nose. He catches me looking and grins widely at me before mouthing,It’s your turn next, and motioning towards the rainbow of sprinkles set out on the table.
In response, I arch my eyebrows at him before sending a quick text.
Maybe you can bring some of those home and we can have fun “decorating” each other after Winnie goes to bed.
A few seconds later, Cash pulls out his phone to read my text. His gaze heats. Then he quickly returns my message with one of his own.
Is it time to go home yet?
But he knows it’s not. We’ve only been at the Sleepy Hollow Fright Fest for an hour, and there’s plenty more still to do. Like the hay maze in the town park—a kid friendly one instead of the scarier adult-only maze on theoutskirts of town—and the assortment of games set up beside it. And the spooky storytelling session scheduled in the bandstand at six PM, which Winnieinsistedshe was old enough for this year.
The stories are meant for kids, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. She’s only four, after all. Even tame ghost stories could be too scary for her.
“I love Cash’s nose.”
Thea comes up beside me, chuckling as she glances in Cash’s direction. “Are those sequins I’m seeing?” she asks. “It’s a good look for him.”
