Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Once I had the stacks of plastic containers full of markers, glue, paper, paper plates, crayons, real and fake leaves, and folders to bring it all home with, I made my way back toward the build-your-own scarecrow area.
Normally, you had to bring spare clothes from home and stuff them. But since kids couldn’t bring anything big like that on the bus, we’d opted to buy bulk doll clothes for them to work with instead.
Finished with that, and checking to make sure the teacher and chaperones didn’t look horrified by anything Domenico was saying, I took a few steps back and sipped my coffee as I surveyed my hard work.
I sucked in a deep breath, letting the smile split my face, knowing just how awestruck these kids were all going to be.
And it was right then I heard a deep masculine voice.
“Is anyone working here?”
Well.
There went any pride I had in my work.
And my first impression of my boss, the elusive Dante? Yeah, not great.
Teeth clenched hard enough for my jaw to ache, I turned.
And there he was.
CHAPTER TWO
Dante
“Shouldn’t you be at the garden center?” Milo, my youngest cousin, asked as he moved to stand next to the chest press machine where I was doing my final rep.
Sure, it might be opening day, but that was no excuse to miss chest and triceps day.
“I’m heading there after I shower,” I told him.
“Only you would spend the day you’ve been looking forward to in the gym.”
“It helps me focus.” And burns off a bit of the nervous energy that had been needling me for the past few weeks.
Admittedly, a lot of that anxiety had to do with the fact that I was pinning all my plans and vision on… Domenico.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my cousin. I was more than happy to provide him a legit place to work so his parole officer stayed off his ass.
That said, Domenico wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who gave a shit about childhood wonder and lifelong memories.
I trusted that he’d hired the people whose résumés I’d pushed his way. Many were a bunch of young adults who had a past in drama and shit like that—people who would really commit to their bits in the haunted house and woods. There were two former early childhood education teachers. And, finally, one person who sent their résumé in on paper featuring Halloween decorations and included a paragraph about how excited they were to create an unforgettable experience for customers.
Hopefully, they would all pick up the slack Domenico might leave.
Though I did catch him at the grocery store buying extra-large black bags and tape to make dead bodies. So he was clearly committed, too.
“I heard my ma talking to your ma about it the other day.”
“Oh, yeah? What’d they say?” I asked, dropping my arms and reaching for my bottle of water.
“Your ma was going on and on about how proud of you she was.” Well, that felt good. “She said she thinks it shows that you’re getting serious about starting a family,” Milo added with his trademark playboy smirk.
“I don’t even have a girl,” I said, shaking my head as a laugh/groan hybrid escaped me.
“You know the moms. Wanna be drowning in grand babies. And you’re the last one to settle down. Didn’t your youngest brother even get married before you?” he teased, knowing perfectly well that August had settled down even before our oldest brother.
“She’s got Valley to worry about too. And who are you to talk? You’re still single too.”
“Eh, she’s on Elisa’s ass now that Smush is seeing someone. I figure I got another year or two before that shit comes my way. But, yeah, you weren’t doing yourself any favors by opening that place.”
“We’ve got other kids in the family too. I want them to have the same experiences we got to have as kids. Feels like the world is losing the spirit of the holidays in a sea of beige boringness.”
“Not your ma.”
No.
My mom went all-out for holidays still, Halloween included. If anything, she’d amped shit up since becoming a grandma.
She rented two fucking storage units to store all her holiday shit: one for Halloween and other, smaller holidays, and one for Christmas.
With October finally being here, I was sure she’d gotten one of my brothers to drive over to the unit, load up their cars, and bring the decorations to the house.
There was probably a whole graveyard set up, creepy figures ready to scare the bejesus out of trick-or-treaters, and purple and orange lights all over the place.
The pumpkins would come eventually, likely after she came to visit the garden center and picked out her own. I was sure to grow not only the cute, small pumpkins for the class trips, but big, hunky ones slated to become jack-o-lanterns. In orange, white, and green. The last two colors had come highly requested from my sister and cousins who wanted to decorate their front porches with all the pumpkins.