The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Page 98


“It’s a costume,” I said a little self-consciously. “For Halloween.” For the record, I loved Halloween. Other than Christmas, it was my favorite holiday. The costumes, the decorations, the little kids, and the candy… it had been love from the first October 31st I could remember.

Aiden tilted his head just slightly to the side. “What are you supposed to be?”

Was he serious? I looked down at my costume, thinking I’d done a pretty good job putting it together three years ago when I’d last worn it to a friend’s party. The overalls, the yellow shirt, the one-eyed goggle pressing into my forehead. It was obvious. “A minion.”

The Wall of Winnipeg blinked. “What the hell is a minion?”

“A minion. Despicable Me.” I blinked when he stayed silent. “Nothing?”

“Never seen it.”

Blasphemy. I’d ask if he was serious, but I knew he was. I stared right at him. “It’s one of the cutest movies in the entire universe,” I explained slowly, hoping he was joking.

He shook his head, his eyes flicking low again. “Never heard of it.”

“I don’t even know what to say to you, and at the same time, I’m not sure why I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it,” I said. “You have no idea what you’ve been missing out on, big guy. It’s probably the cutest animated movie after Finding Nemo.”

“I highly doubt that.” But he didn’t say he hadn’t heard of Finding Nemo. That was something.

“I have the DVD in my room, borrow it.”

Before he could respond, a knock sounded at the door and a bolt of giddiness shot through my chest as I clutched the bucket of candy in my hand and prepared myself for the trick-or-treaters on the other side.

Two small kids who couldn’t be more than six years old stood on the doorstep with really elaborate cloth sacks extended.

“Trick or treat!” they pretty much shouted.

“Happy Halloween,” I said, taking in the petite Power Ranger and Captain America as I dropped a few pieces of candy into each bag.

“Thank you!” they shouted back simultaneously before running to the adult standing at the end of the sidewalk waiting for them. The adult figure waved at me and I waved back before sticking my head back into the house. “I’ll be outside,” I called out to Aiden, grabbing the collapsible chair that I’d left right by the door earlier for this occasion.

I’d barely settled into the seat on the small patio outside when the front door opened and the legs of a chair just like mine peeked out, the big six-foot-almost-five man I was legally married to following after it.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he dropped his chair next to mine, further away from the door.

“Nothing.” He eyed me as he pretty much fell into the canvas. Honestly, a small part of me was worried it was going to rip at the seams when he plopped down, but by some miracle it didn’t. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared forward across the street.

And I stared at him.

He never sat outside. Ever. When would he have time? And why would he?

“Okay,” I mumbled to myself, moving my attention back to the street to spot a pair of kids three houses down. It was still early, only six, so I didn’t think much of the absence of little ones crowding the streets. In my neighborhood growing up, it would be five o’clock and the streets would be lined with the smallest children first, and by eight o’clock, the older ones would be busy making their rounds. Most of the houses in that neighborhood had been decorated to the best of their abilities—never ours though—but it had been awesome. Everyone had been into it.

My mom never really went out of her way to buy us costumes, but that didn’t stop my little brother or me from dressing up. I’d gotten really good about making something out of nothing. Every year, hell or high water, we dressed up and went out with Diana, chaperoned by her parents.

Even at my apartment complex, there were quite a bit of kids who had dropped by in the two years I’d been there. This, on the other hand, was a bit of a disappointment, but maybe it was just too early?

“You like all this stuff?” that gruff voice peeped up.

I sat back in the chair and plucked a small Kit Kat from the jack-o-lantern on my lap. “Yes.” I shoved half of it into my mouth, letting it hang out like a cigarette. “I like the costumes and the imagination. The candy. But I love the costumes the most.”

He eyeballed me briefly. “I can’t tell.”

I crossed my eyes and angled myself slightly toward him. “What? It’s not like I’m dressed up as a sexy rabbit or nurse at the Playboy mansion or something.”

His gaze stayed forward. “Isn’t that what most girls aim for?”

“Some… if you have no imagination. Pssh. Last year, I dressed up as Goku.” Diana and I had gone to one of her friend’s Halloween party. I’d gotten her to dress up as Trunks.

That had him glancing at me. “What’s a Goku?”

Yeah, I had to clutch the sides of the canvas seat below me as I leveled my gaze at his bearded face. “He’s only the second single greatest fighter in Anime history. He was a character on a show called ‘Dragonball’.” I realized I was whispering and ranting at the same time, and coughed. “It was a Japanese cartoon that I love. You’ve never heard of it?”

Those thick eyebrows knit together and one big foot crossed over the other as he stretched out in the poor, poor chair. “It’s a cartoon… with fighters?”

Tags: Mariana Zapata Romance
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