2010
"Why a French theme," Tabitha asks without looking up from the pumpkin she's etching. Chad is seated across from her, carefully applying bright orange frosting to a cupcake for his Halloween party.
"Because it'll give me an excuse to say let them eat cake," he replies distractedly.
"You know, the actual translation was closer to bread, not cake." She glances over at him and meets his gaze with a smirk. He's handsome and strong even though he doesn't like working out, his dark brows furrowing over equally dark eyes. Chad isn't her favorite person in the world, but he helps keep the boredom at bay when Tate is sulking in the attic. "Granted, it was this really sweet type of bread called Brioche, but it still wasn't cake."
"Thanks, little miss know-it-all."
"Don't blame me for paying attention in history class." He snorts, setting the piping bag aside and grabbing one of the gummy Frankensteins out of a carton. Monster cupcakes don't match the French theme he's going for, but it better matches the creepy spirit of the holiday. "So, is Pat the reason you're paying me ten bucks an hour to help you decorate? 'Cause I thought you hated me."
"I don't hate you, Tabby, I'm just not fond of your brother or, well, the rest of your family aside from Addie." Well, to be fair, Tate and Constance aren't fond of Chad or Patrick either since they're gay. Tabitha doesn't care who a person fucks as long as she doesn't have to hear the gory details. A lifetime of having to hear Constance entertaining her boyfriends has really killed the curious part of her. "And to answer your question, Pat was on-call last night, so he's been asleep most of today."
Chad stands up with the plastic tray of cupcakes in hand, moving across the kitchen to set them neatly on the counter by the fridge. He's been running around the kitchen all morning, most of the time spent making an apple pie that filled the kitchen with a scent that has Tabitha's mouth watering.
"I'll be home around four," Pat states, the muscular blond not even sparing a hello for his least-favorite neighbor. He's dressed in his gym clothes and has a bag gripped tightly in one hand, so it's obvious where he's headed. Tabitha goes back to focusing on the slowly-forming French figure, careful not to peel back too much of the orange skin lest she makes a hole in it.
"Tabby, could you give us a minute?" She sets the etching tool down and peels off the plastic gloves before exiting the kitchen, but not before snagging one of the mummy-topped cupcakes that she'd helped with. She can still hear their conversation in the next room and she eavesdrops without stopping to think about it. "I need help with these pumpkins, all I can get tabby to etch are the people she actually knows about."
"Who are those two?"
"Mine's Marie Antoinette and Tabby's is Coco Chanel. I thought I could do a famous French figures theme this year and I could bake one of those three-tiered cakes with each layer representing a different era."
"Have fun with that, I'm going to the gym." Tabitha turns herself invisible, quickly tossing the cupcake in the little trash can to avoid Pat thinking he's going crazy. She doesn't exactly need these dorks moving out before they gave Tate what he wanted, and one of them claiming to see a flying cupcake would do exactly that. But she doesn't have to worry too much because Patrick is stopping before he reaches the doorway.
"Don't forget to wear a condom. Oh, and pick up some Gala apples on your way back because these Golden Delicious just look sad floating in the bobbing bucket." They really do, but she just thought it's because a grown man has set up a bobbing bucket for other grown adults. It's depressing how much effort Chad is putting into all of this when his boyfriend can't get away fast enough.
"Why would I wear a condom at the gym?"
"I don't know," Chad returns sarcastically," could it be because you're screwing that twink trainer that looks like a discount Johnny Depp? Oh, and pick me up some gourds, too. I saw this picture in a magazine where they spray-painted them white and hung them outside like little ghosts, and I thought we could do it to draw in someone more interesting than the realtor."
"You're right."
"I usually am, but why am I right this time?"
"I'm screwing my trainer. And you know what? It's some of the best sex I've ever had."
"Military rules, honey, I don't ask and you don't tell. I'm curious though, is your admission to something I already know about supposed to hurt me? I've got news for you, I've been screwing our next-door neighbor, the one that models, and he's way bigger than you are. Even if I wasn't already following your example in a much classier and discreet way, living with you has made me bullet proof." Tabitha muffles a snort of laughter as Chad continues listing off grocery items that he needs, just imagining the shocked look on Pat's face. "Have you picked out a costume or will I have to do that for you, too?"
"Why are you even doing this?"
"Because we're going to have a house filled with people in just three days and one of us needs to be prepared. It's pretty sad when I can rely on the teen already dressed as Poison Ivy more than I can rely on the man I bought a house with. And yes, before you ask, it's the comic book version, so leave the kid alone about her taste." There's a tense moment of silence followed by the sound of something being thrown.
"This is such bullshit! All of this, the stupid pumpkins and cupcakes, it's like living with a fucked-up Martha Stewart! I don't give two shits about the stupid bobbing station, Chad! I want love from someone and I want to be able to love them!"
"Then leave! Oh, wait a second, you can't because we both sunk all of our money into this death trap of a house. Do you actually think I like carving these stupid pumpkins or listening to that bitch next door complain about the inaccuracies in her history textbook? I'm trying here! I'm trying to make this place warm and inviting and spectacular, I'm trying to get this stupid Halloween party shot by Elle friggin' Décor so someone will see it and want to take it off our hands. Once that happens, you're free to have all the trainers you want and I can fall in love with a twenty-five year old whose biceps are even better than yours. Now get off my back, carve a goddamn pumpkin, go get a fucking outfit, and man the hell up. "
The silence that follows Chad's speech is tense, almost like a poisoned cloud settled between the two men; a full year's worth of frustration finally out in the air and they won't be able to recover from it. Tate and Tabitha have watched them ever since they moved in, but they've never had a fight like this one, which meant they'll never take in a baby for Tate's adopted mom to call her own.
"I can't believe this is who we've become," Pat states after a moment, voice quiet and sad. "Hallow-queens arguing over pumpkins. We were supposed to have a baby and this..." He scoffs softly, the pain etched into every line of his face easily seen as Tabitha peeks around the corner. "A great life that just seems like it's a dream now." She watches as Pat strides out the door, leaving Chad behind to take out his anger on one of the pumpkins that has already been gutted.
With a howl, he picks it up and throws it across the room, a loud crack resounding in the otherwise silent house.
2011
"Seriously," Ben asks as Tabitha approaches the table of the outdoors café he and Tate are sitting at. "You're only seventeen, Tabitha, you shouldn't be smoking."
"I think I've earned it after everything I've been remembering," she retorts, sitting between the two men. She takes another drag off the cigarette, enjoying the way the smoke swirls when she blows it out. Ben has paled and is sending a hesitant glance in Tate's direction. "I told him what Daddy did, so you don't have to tiptoe around the subject." Tate had taken it badly, throwing anything he could get his hands on and swearing he'd make their father beg if he ever shows his face again. She can't tell him their father is in the basement, though. He's her daddy, she can't turn on him or she'd be disloyal. Right?
"How're you feeling today?"
"No worse than usual, I guess. I... I still get moments where I can't stand to be touched, but at least I can handle being in the same room as my brother without remembering all the bad things." Flashbacks have been happening more and more lately, that thing she now knows as fear making her stomach twist. At least Tate's trauma has been buried so deep that he can't seem to reach it anymore, so she doesn't have to worry about comforting him.
"Tabby Cat's really strong," Tate says, covering one of her hands with his. It's a comforting gesture and it helps to ground her when the bad thoughts come. Tate's touches are nothing like their father's had been, he's rarely gentle and it makes a huge difference compared to how Hugo used to cuddle them afterwards. "I remember..." He trails off for a moment, eyes glazing over as he stares at something no one else can see. Tabitha turns her hand over so she can grip his, digging her nails in until he snaps back. "I remember afterwards that my sister would always be the one to help me with the cuts and stuff. She was like my own nurse or somethin'."
"Yeah, you have a strong sister, Tate," Ben agrees with a gentle smile that Tabitha forces herself to return," and she has a strong brother. Are you two going trick-or-treating tonight?"
"I'm going to the beach with a date."
"I'll probably go to a party," Tabitha murmurs, taking her hand back. "Just dance until I'm too tired to remember things or until I meet someone who doesn't smell too much like weed." At a stern look from Ben, she holds up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Relax, I'm not going to be smoking anything, it's just that joints, among other things, get passed around a lot during raves."
"You could always pass out candy," he suggests.
"I'm seventeen and I'm sober, so why can't I go out and have a good time with other kids my age? I'm pretty sure it's completely normal for girls my age to hook up every now and then. Y'know, relieve stress in whatever way we can." The stern look doesn't leave his face and she shrugs a shoulder, grinding her cigarette out under the toe of her dark blue heels. "Or I could go to a hotel and just pig out on room service while watching scary movies."
"I like that thought a lot better." She gives him a faint smile, leaning back comfortably in the chair to look around her. The café has hay scattered over the sidewalk and bales of it stacked up with carved pumpkins and plastic witches seated on them. As always on Halloween, parents and children alike drag each other to and fro, the parents looking exhausted while their costumed little demons have caught their second wind. Free candy makes all kids forget manners, their goal the sugar hiding behind strangers' doors. Halloween's always been Tabitha's favorite time of year, the costumes and parties in full swing because who doesn't love being scared?
"Alright, this has been a great chat, but Tate and I have some errands to run for Constance." Tate leans his head back and groans, looking like a puppy that's just been told he's going to the vet to get snipped. "Apparently she sent her newest toy to the store last night for chocolate chips, but he just used the money to fill up his bike." Tabitha stands and brushes off her skirt before grabbing a handful of Tate's sweater. "Come on, loser, we're going shopping."
"Jesus," Tate whines, getting up reluctantly," I hate it when you quote Mean Girls at me, Tabby."
"Get over it, Tater Tot." She pushes Tate ahead of her and sends Ben a flirty smile over her shoulder. "See you later, Benny!" He gives a half-hearted wave in return, one hand wrapped around his cup of coffee. "Constance gave me fifty bucks, so you want to go see what drugs we can buy?" Halloween is the one night of year that the dead could mimic the living fully, which meant drinking, eating, and getting high.
"Thank God for Halloween."