Chapter 13

 

“You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Tori’s lips warmed into a smile as she floated down the stairs.

Gossamer webs of cotton stretched across the railings, cradling spiders with glittering eyes. Candelabras lined both sides of the foyer.

“Did Grandma do all this?”

Tori’s mother shook her head. “At one time your grandmother had hired help who decorated the house for every holiday. Now she’s down to a groundskeeper and a weekly cleaning lady who can only manage one section of the house at a time. That leaves a lot for her to manage herself.” She smiled. “Your father found decorations in the attic. We thought you and Kimmy would enjoy something festive.”

“It’s amazing. You and Dad did a great job. Where’s Kimmy?”

Just as Tori mentioned her brother’s name, her father walked in with a giant candy bucket with a smiley ghost painted on its front. Arms and legs stuck out from the soft vinyl cylinder. “Happy Halloween,” Kimmy said. He grinned widely. “Treat!”

“You have your priorities straight, little bud.” Tori laughed, ruffling his hair. “Are you ready?”

Kimmy’s cheesy smile said more than words could.

“Okay, let’s go.” Tori took him by the hand as her mother opened the door for them.

“Your grandmother’s resting now, but she looks forward to seeing you in your costumes when you get back.” Tori’s mother snapped a photo.

“Thanks, Mom. Have fun at dinner.”

“We will. See you later tonight, hon.”

House after house, Kimmy was the sweetest of treat angels. In less than an hour, his and Tori’s treat bags overflowed with hard candies, taffies, chocolates, and enough candy corn to plant a field. At first, Kimmy was enchanted with the idea that his candy bucket costume could also be functional, giggling every time Tori or one of their grandmother’s neighbors dropped a treat in the outer compartments of the costume. But as the evening wore on, his smiles turned into pouts, followed by frequent eye rubs.

“Getting tired, little bud?” Tori shoved a chocolate drop in her mouth, letting it melt before unwrapping another.

Kimmy whimpered.

“I think we’ve got enough candy to last us until Christmas, at least,” Tori said, deciding to cut the night short. “You did great.”

Yawning, Kimmy raised his arms.

Finding her brother surprisingly awkward to hold while dressed in his costume, Tori switched arms twice before finally setting him back down on the ground and taking his hand. “Almost home,” she said.

Tori’s grandmother answered the door when they arrived, her arm balancing a tray of caramel-covered apples. “Oh, look at you darlings. Just lovely!”

“Thanks,” Tori answered with a grin. “Kimmy was awesome tonight, but he’s pooped.” She removed his shoes and unsnapped the straps at his shoulders. After the bucket slid to the floor, Tori scooped up her brother to help him wriggle out of the costume.

“My, what a lot of candy,” said her grandmother, eyeing the stash.

Kimmy, happy again, squeezed wrapped nougats between his hands.

Tori’s grandmother handed her the tray of apples. “Do you mind passing these out to trick-or-treaters as they come along? I don’t get too many, but I like to have something to offer just in case. I’ll take care of getting Kimmy up to bed.”

Relieved, Tori nodded. “Sure, no problem.” She relaxed on a chair her grandmother had left outside on the porch just for that purpose.

A faint silhouette of the moon had already appeared even though the sun hadn’t yet set. The sleeves of her costume barely warded off the night’s chill, making her wish she’d brought a sweater with her. She never did like the idea of a coat covering up one of her costumes, but she was more than done for the night.

Tori’s grandmother returned more quickly than she’d expected; the door closed behind her with a grumpy groan. As if she’d read Tori’s mind, she unfolded one of her lumpy shawls. “Your parents are still at dinner. I don’t expect them to return for another hour,” she said, glancing at her watch.

Tori thought she saw more meaning behind her grandmother’s eyes, but she wasn’t sure what it could be. When she didn’t say anything, her grandmother cleared her throat.

“I’m happy to give you the key back for another night if you’d like to use this time to go visit the lantern.”

“Oh,” said Tori, wide-eyed. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you. The lantern’s not there anymore.” She suddenly felt guilty for having hidden the lantern in her room. It wasn’t hers to take or to move from its original location, even if it was technically still on her grandmother’s property.

“What do you mean?”

“I gave you the key back because I brought the lantern to my room last night. It didn’t light when I went to see it. It’s—” She gulped. “I’ve had it hidden in my room all day.”

“I see. What do you plan to do with it?”

Tori’s forehead creased. “I’m not sure. I doubt my parents would let me take it home. But, it’s yours, not mine—I’ll go bring it down,” Tori said, standing from the chair. “I can return it.”

“I don’t see any reason to go out there tonight,” said her grandmother as she gazed past the porch, toward the gardens. “However, it might look nice here on the porch.” She pointed to a row of hooks screwed into the wooden beams above them. “I use those to hang my flower baskets in the summertime. Let’s try putting the lantern there. At the very least, it will make a lovely Halloween prop. Go on, now. I’ll stay here with the apples until you get back.”

Tori raced up to her room, somehow managing to drape the shawl around her shoulders in the process. She opened her bedroom door and sucked in a breath when she realized she could see inside the room even though the lights weren’t turned on. The corner where she’d tucked the lantern emitted a strange glow.

“Jared?” Her voice cracked as she leaped to the corner and pulled back the quilt, now warm from the light of the lantern. There was no condensation. Makes sense, she thought. It’s not cold in here like it was when I saw the lantern outside. She peered inside, but Jared wasn’t there. A pale flame took his place.

Tori’s eyes stung with tears. Lifting the lantern by its handle, she whispered, “At least it’ll make a nice porch light.” Before stepping out of the room, she grabbed her grandmother’s nursing bag from the edge of her bed. “I might as well return this too,” she grumped, holding back sobs as she walked out of the room. No point in keeping a stethoscope if there’s no one to talk to.

The decorations leading down the stairs no longer cheered her. Before she opened the front door to join her grandmother, Tori stopped. Her free hand hovered above the doorknob. “Jared, if you can hear me, please come back. It’s Halloween night, and I miss you.”

The flickering inside the lamp danced in synch with flames from the candelabras. Silence filled the cavernous space. Even the decorative spiders seemed to be listening for a response. But none came.

Tori drew in a breath. “I hope that wherever you are, you’re happy—whether that’s in Havenbrim, back in Machin’s workshop, or wherever it is the light goes when his lanterns burn out. I’ll miss you, Jared. Even if no one ever believes me about meeting you, I will always remember.” She pressed her lips to the globe in a brief kiss before turning the doorknob and stepping outside.