Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
“How the hell does she do that?” Jackson mutters, clearly impressed.
“I was completely lost,” Becker agrees, shaking his head in disbelief.
Sydney speaks softly, almost wistfully. “She has a gift with them.”
The boys squeal with delight at the prospect of chips and lemonade. The next house we approach is decked out in purple and orange lights, creating an enchanting atmosphere. Luci begins walking with them, her energy infectious, as they near a woman dressed as a generic superhero at the edge of the porch.
Suddenly, Luci comes to a screeching halt. Cole and Barrett ask her why she stopped, while Syd takes off running ahead. Luci’s head nudges toward the house, and Syd turns slightly. In one swift motion, Luci pulls the gold mask over her face.
Syd returns our way, her expression serious. “Could one of you walk them up there? I need to talk to Luci.”
“I got it,” I say, joining Kingston as we walk up together. Luci passes us without looking up, her focus elsewhere.
A guy dressed as Aquaman is handing out candy, and I recognize his voice. “Wow, you’re as tall as Chewy and the biggest Boba Fett I’ve ever seen.”
I stay silent, and Kingston does too, as the boys thank the man before we leave. Luci and Sydney wait across the street for us, and I return to Becker, who is watching them intently.
“That’s Marshall Soames,” he mutters, his expression darkening.
“Head prick himself,” I reply, lifting my mask as we wait to cross the street.
“Runs in their blood. Julian is his younger clone,” Jackson adds, his tone laced with disdain.
Kingston lifts his mask as well. “Why does she do that with her fingers?” He points subtly toward Luci. I notice her listening intently to Sydney, her left index finger scraping the nail along her thumb, her right hand mirroring the motion, both hands resting in front of her waist.
“I’ve seen her do it a few times,” Kingston adds, a hint of concern in his voice.
Cole, overhearing us, runs across to them after Syd gestures for him to come. “Luci does that when she needs a minute. She told me,” he explains, his innocence shining through. Anxiety or stress, then.
“Worried that Julian might be home?” Becker muses, a frown deepening on his face.
I turn back to stare at the house, scanning for any sign of him. “Maybe…” I reply, uncertainty creeping into my voice.
“Daddy, let’s go! There’s the glow stick house!” Cole shouts, tugging at my hand with excitement. Luci waves him over after checking the street.
“Go to Luci,” I encourage, ensuring nothing is coming as he dashes toward her. He grabs her hand, and together they race toward the glow stick house.
Luci seems to know the owners as she chats with them, introducing Cole. The woman dressed as Glinda from *The Wizard of Oz* hugs Luci warmly. Cole and Barrett gesture for us to join them, and I see the couple laughing at their antics. Luci slips on a glow stick cat ear headband before adorning Barrett with glasses and necklaces. Cole, not to be outdone, receives necklaces, bracelets, glasses, and even a ball.
“Glow sticks have gotten fancier since we were kids,” I mutter, half in awe.
Luci laughs, handing Cole a batch of glasses and necklaces. He races back toward us, distributing them with glee. Barrett is busy adorning Sydney with everything he can find.
“Bye Mrs. Faye and Mr. Earl! See you next year!” Luci calls out as she walks down the steps, trying to suppress her laughter at the sight of us covered in glow sticks.
“Luci, take our picture! Please!” Cole yells, and we line up, him standing proudly in front of us. Barrett quickly joins in, and then it’s just Cole and me.
“Barrett and Cole now, then Syd and Barrett,” she directs. “Here, Barrett, take one of Aunt Syd and me.”
“I got it,” I say, taking the phone from her. Cole tugs at my hand eagerly.
“Can I take one with Luci?” he asks, his eyes shining with excitement.
I nod, smiling. “Go ahead.”
He stands in front of her, lifting his mask to reveal a wide grin. But then, in a moment of playful mischief, he steps back and pretends to use the Force on her. I switch to video, capturing the moment as she holds her throat, feigning distress, while he giggles uncontrollably. That sound-his laughter-always sends my heart racing, a pure joy that fills the air around us.
“Did you have fun?” I inquire softly, as I carefully tuck Cole into his bed, the comforting weight of a blanket enveloping him. He hadn’t drifted off during the car ride home, which gave me the opportunity to give him a quick bath to wash away the remnants of the day’s excitement. His entourage had insisted on making a stop on the way back, and I had obliged, seizing the chance to return the cooler bag to Baker.
With sleepy eyes, he offers me a small smile. “Tons and bunches of fun. Thank you, Luck.”
“I had tons and bunches of fun too. I absolutely love trick-or-treating and dressing up in costumes,” I confess, my heart swelling with nostalgia.
“Did your babysitter take you trick-or-treating, or was it your family?” His innocent curiosity pierces through the cozy atmosphere, and I feel a lump form in my throat.
I swallow hard, grappling with the memories that threaten to surface. “I used to go with Sydney and her brother once I met them. We would all dress up and roam around their neighborhood, collecting candy like it was treasure. And then, when Barrett was two, we started dressing up again to take him along.”
“Your mommy didn’t take you? Or daddy?” His eyes widen with curiosity, a reflection of his own circumstances, and I can only imagine the questions swirling in his mind. I choose to remain in the shadows of my past, aware that asking Easton Reed anything would be akin to swallowing razor blades. He oscillates between being coldly annoyed with me and coolly tolerant, but I’ve noticed he softens only for Cole.
“I don’t like to talk about them much. I lost them when I was three,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
A frown creases his little brow as he processes my words. “How did you lose them?” His question hangs in the air, innocent yet heavy with implications.
“Not the word I should have used. They died. They were in the car, driving home from a New Year’s Eve party. Someone hit them going really fast.” I add silently, *and really drunk.* The woman had escaped the bar before the bartender could intervene. I was home with our neighbor, an elderly lady named Junie. They were killed instantly, the impact shattering our lives. The memory of that stormy night, with rain pouring down in sheets, floods my mind. Their car flipped, and despite the seat belts and airbags, they were gone. Meanwhile, she walked away with just a few cuts and scratches, only to find herself in prison for manslaughter, receiving care while my life lay in ruins. The bitter irony of it all gnaws at me, a relentless reminder of how justice often eludes those who truly suffer. Movies were so much easier to navigate than this reality…