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"Mommy! I'm ready!"
"Okay, sweetie, just a minute." Diana turned around with the bowl of Halloween candy for trick-or-treaters, and stopped. She stared for a long moment at her six-year-old son, and then at Mozzie, looking extremely innocent, and then she said carefully, "Honey, I thought you were going as a Transformer this year."
"This is better," Theo declared. "Uncle Mozzie helped me."
"Yes," Diana said, still in that same careful voice. "I can see that. We worked on that Transformers costume for weeks."
"Yes, but Uncle Mozzie said that Transformers are --" The child paused, stumbling over the words. "Tools of the -- uh --"
"Tools of the military-industrial-capitalist axis shamelessly brainwashing children into accepting violence as the only means of resolving a manufactured good-evil dichotomy," Mozzie chimed in on cue. "Not to mention a transparent attempt to sell overpriced toys to preschoolers."
"Yes, but ..." Words failed her as she stared at her son in his oversized black-rimmed glasses, child-sized plaid suit jacket, and ascot. The fact that Mozzie had turned her beloved child into a mini-me was something she was desperately trying not to say in front of Theo just on the remote chance that it hadn't occurred to him, although that was a conversation she was definitely having with Mozzie later, possibly involving heavy objects. "What are you going to tell people you are?"
Mozzie's lips moved as he prompted Theo. "I'm hiding in plain sight," the child declared.
"... No. No, you're going as a Transformer."
"But, Mom --"
"Lady Suit --"
"You," Diana told Mozzie, "be quiet. Theo, you can wear that under the Transformers costume. That way you're hiding in plain sight even more."
Theo seemed to like this. With a death glare at Mozzie that promised painful conversations in his future, Diana hustled Theo off to change.
She half expected Mozzie to be gone when she came back down, but instead he was on the couch picking through the candy bowl. "You know, all of these options are loaded with corn syrup and chemicals."
"They're supposed to be, it's for flavor." She gave him a long, suspicious look. "Now, you're going to leave the porch light on, and hand out candy to children, and do nothing else while we're gone. Right?"
"Don't you trust me, Lady Suit?"
"No farther than I can throw you," Diana said. "No, wait, even less than that, because I can throw you pretty far, as you will find out if I come back to find out that you've been using my house phone to phonebank for a Nigerian prince scam."
Mozzie brightened.
"You are not allowed to use my house phone under any circumstances," Diana said hastily.
"What if the house is on fire?" Mozzie asked, reaching for another handful of candy. He didn't seem to be eating them, just reading the labels.
"Not even then. You can eat anything in the fridge -- within reason. Stay out of my bedroom. You are not allowed to touch the wine closet either. Uh ..." As Theo tugged impatiently on her hand, she tried to think of any contingencies she hadn't covered. She could let Mozzie be the one to take Theo trick-or-treating -- but no, the possibilities that occurred to her were even worse. Not that she thought he'd let Theo get hurt (the amount of trust she had in him to keep her son safe was startling to her every time she thought about it). But the number of cons that could be pulled off with an adorable six-year-old boggled the mind. "And don't do anything illegal!" she finished up as Theo hauled her toward the door with all the strength in his wiry little body.
"You really know how to take the fun out of housesitting, Lady Suit."
"You are not housesitting, you are watching the door for less than two hours. We'll be back before nine. And, um ..." She had a bad feeling there were probably terribly important things she was overlooking, but saying something might just draw Mozzie's attention to them. He knew better than to mess with the gun in its lockbox in the closet, right? He'd better. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she finished in a rush, as they went out the door.
That had probably been bad advice. At least judging from Mozzie's laughter as she went out the door.
When had she started trusting con artists to answer the door for her while she was gone? Her life. Honestly.
Her phone vibrated with a text. Glancing down, she saw it was from Peter. "Hang on just a minute, Mommy needs to check this," she told Theo, and then burst out laughing.
Had to talk Little Neal out of trick or treating as a con artist. Told him con artists looked just like everyone else. Guess who is responsible for this.
"Mommy! Can I go knock on the Wilsons' door?"
"Yes, yes. Look for traffic and keep hold of my hand, please." The only traffic was crawling tonight, anyway, as cars deposited little groups of ghosts and witches and cats on the sidewalk, while other parents went about with their costumed kids between houses decorated with pumpkins and orange lights. DC suburbs were a big change from the classy Manhattan neighborhood where she used to live, that was for sure.
As soon as she'd shepherded Theo across the street, she let him run on ahead while she slowed down to type, Just had a similar problem here. Where is our mutual friend now, by the way?
Taking Neal2 out while E & I have an evening in, the reply came back. Elizabeth says hi.
Hi back to her. And lucky you. I left M watching the house.
Hope it's still there when you get back.
She smiled to herself. At least wiser heads won the costume fight, she said, and snapped a quick photo of Theo as he held up his basket to a neighbor's door for candy. She texted it to Peter.
I'll show you ours. Hold on, let me ask Elizabeth to text you the pic.
The photo came through a moment later. It had clearly been taken in the Burkes' living room: a cute little sheet ghost ... holding the hand of an adult-sized sheet ghost. Even in the photo, Neal's bright blue eyes were sharp and bright in the adult ghost's eye holes.
Diana grinned to herself. Hiding in plain sight, she wanted to text back, but they were probably pushing right up against the edge of what was prudent to talk about over any source that might be logged or traced. Instead, she texted back: They're adorable. Happy Halloween!