Second Chance Love by Shawn Inmon

Author:Shawn Inmon [Inmon, Shawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781507864616
Google: BdLrrQEACAAJ
Amazon: B00T6MU7AQ
Publisher: Pertime Publishing
Published: 2015-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

October was on the wane. For twenty years, Elizabeth had nursed a forlorn Halloween desire: to hand out candy to little costumed ghouls and goblins. She rarely had trick-or-treaters at her apartment, aside from a few children she knew from the building. In her neighborhood, most parents kept smaller children indoors after dark, even on Halloween.

Closing time came at The Prints and the Pauper. Elizabeth turned the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side, then caught the crosstown bus to Steve’s condo and changed into a witch costume. Steve had a meeting concerning the winding down of Larson Industries, and would not be home for a while, but that was all right.

Or not. For two hours, she sat with increasing dejection. The doorbell did not ring. Except for a few bars she had pilfered for herself, the bowl of Snickers, Butterfingers, and Skittles sat undepleted beside her.

At 7:30, Steve got home and walked into the living room. There sat Elizabeth, sitting next to a small pile of empty candy wrappers, watching Hocus Pocus on television.

“What’s wrong, Lizzie?”

“I wanted to spend Halloween here because I thought there would be lots of little ones out trick-or-treating in this neighborhood. I brought candy, but I'm the only one who's eating it. I might gain five pounds if we don’t find a way to give some of this away.”

Steve shook his head. “Lizzie, I live in the penthouse of a secure building.” At least for the moment, he thought. Steve had just listed the condo with Larson's real estate branch, but it would not enter the multiple listing service until the following Monday. “It takes a password just to make the elevator come to this floor. I’ve lived here eleven years and never had a single trick-or-treater.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s voice was small. “Of course. I should have thought about that.”

“Wait just a minute. I’ve got an idea. Stay right here.”

Steve retreated to the bedroom for a few minutes, then reappeared wearing a black tuxedo and a half mask covering the right side of his face. “I had this left over from a costume ball a few years ago. What do you think?”

Elizabeth started to laugh. “I think you look wonderful. Who are you supposed to be?”

“C’mon, Lizzie! I’m the phantom. Phantom of the Opera?”

“Oh! Like the old book by Gaston Leroux!”

“Well, kind of. Like the Broadway musical that Andrew Lloyd Webber based on the old book. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Phantom?”

Lizzie's face colored as if Steve had just pointed out toilet paper adhering to her heel. Her voice fell to a shameful whisper. “Don't ever tell anyone. I haven't even read the actual book, much less seen the play.”

“Not a soul," Steve stage-whispered. "It's on yo—"

"My Kindle. I know. I will get on it soon," said Elizabeth, playing along.

"Well, we’re going to have to take care of the play. It’s wonderful. But for tonight, you’ll have to be happy with having the Phantom escort you.”

“Escort me? I didn’t know we were going anywhere.”

“We’re not going far.

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