Page 2 of Trick Play

“I specifically asked for a clown costume that wasn’t Chucky.”

He tapped on his tablet. “That’s not what it says here.”

“I can’t wear that. There are children at the event. This could scare them.”

He didn’t respond, merely shrugged. People behind me began to murmur.

“It’s for a charity thing. I need a clown costume that’s not that.”

With a heavy sigh, he typed on the tablet. “I’ve got one clown costume left, but it’s 3XL.”

Why the big demand for clown costumes? I shook my head. 3XL? I’d be lost in something that size. No way I could skate wearing it. I looked at the Chucky costume. Falling down on the ice would be better than scaring some little kid. And fortunately I had an ace up my sleeve.

“Okay. I’ll take it. The 3XL that’s not Chucky.” Then I messaged my mom while he went to hunt it up.

Mom, need your sewing skills ASAP.

Chapter 2

Jokes are supposed to be funny

Kelli

* * *

I smiled at the Halloween decorations on the lawn as I walked up the driveway of my parents’ house. The fake tombstones had been there since I was a kid, and they definitely looked the worse for wear. My folks loved Halloween. I winced and corrected myself. Mom did. Even though Dad had been gone for five years, I wasn’t used to it.

Mom had asked me to come and take care of any trick-or-treaters till she got home from the wedding expo she had a display at, since it was wrapping up today and she’d be late packing her stuff. I didn’t have any other plans for the evening, and I enjoyed seeing all the kids in their costumes.

I adjusted the red wool wig on my head. My scalp was itching after wearing it all day, but when you worked in a pediatric dentist’s office, dressing up for Halloween was required. Other than the wig, the Raggedy Ann costume wasn’t too bad, at least as far as comfort went. It was about as far from sexy as you could get. The dress came down past my knees, meeting my striped socks, so I didn’t have to worry about bending over and flashing anyone. I’d had to touch up the makeup at lunch and before I left the office so that the red dots on my cheeks and big fake lashes didn’t drip down, making me look like a melting doll. I hoped it had survived traveling here on the subway and bus.

Dylan’s car was on the street, so he was at the house for something. What? My brother wasn’t giving out candy because he was attending a costume party with his girlfriend. Maybe Mom had helped with what he planned to wear so he’d come by to pick it up. I wanted a picture if so.

I headed to the side door, using my key to get in. Normally I’d take off my shoes, but they were part of my costume so I left them on. I headed down the basement stairs first to get the stuff Mom had asked me to find.

Her sewing room took up half the available space, with wedding dresses on a couple of mannequins. At least she was organized, so it only took me a couple of minutes to grab the seam binding tape Mrs. Han wanted to borrow and head back upstairs.

Dylan came out of Mom’s bedroom buttoning up one of Dad’s old police shirts. He was wearing the uniform pants, shoes, even had handcuffs hanging from his belt. Fortunately, he didn’t have a gun. Those had been turned in when Dad died.

“What the hell, Dyl?”

He glanced at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I told Mom I’d take care of the trick-or-treaters till she got back from the show. What are you doing in Dad’s uniform?” Dad had been proud of serving as part of the Toronto Police Service, and if Dylan was doing something stupid…

He smoothed the shirt down, tucking it into his pants. “It’s for the Halloween party.”

“I thought you were going as Barbie and Ken.” That was all his girlfriend had gone on about at our last family dinner. Not that my brother looked much like Ryan Gosling, but beyond the blonde hair, she didn’t look like Margot Robbie either.

“Lisa found out someone else is dressing up as Barbie and Ken. So she’s going as a sexy prisoner and I’m the cop arresting her.” He picked up the handcuffs and spun them around his finger.

I blinked. A sexy prisoner? Like a prostitute? I bit back a snort. “Did Mom say it was okay?” I couldn’t imagine she’d be happy about Dylan using Dad’s uniform like that. I sure as hell wasn’t.

The doorbell rang before he could answer.

He paused in tucking in the shirt. “That can’t be Mom.” His eyes were sliding around, and damn it, he must have tried to sneak in to get the uniform when he knew no one was home. It had to be guilt bothering him, because Mom wouldn’t be ringing the bell.

I was tempted to let him worry but he’d soon see who it was. “It must be Mrs. Han. Mom asked me to get some seam binding for her.” I passed by him to open the door.