The maid’s apron Nash bought me still had its price tag attached when he ordered me to cook and clean for 15 friends at his Halloween party. He planned to spend the night playing vampire. When he called for me to start serving, I checked the clock and grinned. His surprise had just reached our door.
Nash sat at the head of our dining table in a black cape, plastic fangs flashing whenever he smiled.
“Gloria! We’re waiting!” he called.
Fifteen guests turned toward me.
I stood in the doorway wearing the maid costume my husband had chosen for me.
“Gloria! We’re waiting!”
The short black skirt scratched my knees, the white apron pinched my waist, and the lace cap kept sliding toward one ear.
Nash spread his arms as if presenting the evening’s entertainment.
“There she is! My maid for the night!”
The short black skirt scratched my knees.
A few people laughed uncertainly. His friend Ben, dressed as a pirate, looked from Nash to me.
“Was this a couples’ costume idea?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
The clock above the doorway clicked over to seven.
A few people laughed uncertainly.
I smiled for the first time since putting on that ridiculous apron.
“Dinner isn’t quite ready,” I told them. “But the surprise is.”
The doorbell rang.
***
Twenty-four hours earlier, that costume had been folded inside a plastic bag on our couch.
“Dinner isn’t quite ready,” I told them. “But the surprise is.”
Halloween had always been my favorite holiday.
I’d spent the week hanging orange lights, arranging pumpkins on the porch, and cutting paper bats for the hallway.
Two bowls of candy waited by the front door.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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