The agonizingly loud sound of Hopper's alarm sets Joyce's heart into a panic. She jumps as his arm leaves her side to smack at the snooze button on the nightstand and quickly starts falling back to sleep. His hand goes across her stomach, touching the soft skin close to her waist band and she sighs. Not wanting to leave the warmth of Hopper's bed, Joyce snuggles back into his chest and stretches lazily, her body perfectly aligned with his. Hopper's hand is back on her hip and Joyce loves the heat coming off of his body. It's not until he unconsciously thrusts his hips forward just a little bit that Joyce feels it. A part of Hopper she has never seen, matter less touched is wedged between her ass cheeks.
Joyce suddenly jumps out of his arms, not knowing where to go. Her sudden movements waking him.
"Joyce what's wrong?" He calls out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his thumbs.
"Umm Hop, you umm, your dick was uh…" Joyce couldn't finish her sentence, pointing down at Hopper's lap, he finally realizes what's happened.
"Shit." Hopper yells, grabbing for Joyce's pillow to cover his hard-on.
"Don't put my pillow on it!" She cries, moving back toward the bed.
"Well it's either your pillow or my hand, you make the decision!" Hopper yells back, trying to sit up without giving Joyce another show. His alarm goes off again, making both of them jump and he quickly yanked the cord out of the wall, the sudden silence of the room filled only with the sound of their breathing.
"Joyce, we knew this could happen. I'm a guy, and you're a very attractive girl and sometimes it just has a mind of his own and-"
"Hopper stop talking!" Joyce demands as she comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Hopper is still holding her pillow tightly over his middle.
"Look Hop, it's fine. It just took me by surprise that's all. I wasn't expecting to wake up to that first thing in the morning."
"So first thing in the afternoon is fine? Because that's what I'm hearing." Joyce huffs at Hopper's lame excuse for a comeback.
"That was so bad that if my pillow wasn't currently covering your dick I would throw it at your face."
"Well, I can always take it off." Hopper teases as he goes to move his hand.
"Don't you dare!" She scolds.
"Ok, ok." He laughs.
"Joyce?" Hopper calls out after a minute, watching as she shifts her line of vision from her hands to his face.
"How mad would you be if I said I liked how it felt?"
This time Joyce didn't care if she saw his dick. Quickly grabbing her pillow, she smacks Hopper with it. Knowing she's going to have to wash it before she uses again.
Hopper tries to cover his laugh with a cough and takes the pillow away from her so she doesn't hit him again. Looking down at the watch on his wrist, he realizes if they don't get a move on, they're going to be late.
"Come on Joy, I can drop you off close to the school and no one will be any wiser."
Missing the first two classes of the day had Joyce distraught. She was never late. So why in all the days she could have been, today was the day for her to miss a quiz. She had completely lost track of the date with everything going on this week.
Hopper didn't seem too concerned about anything at lunch as Joyce sat and watched him over the peanut butter and jelly sandwich had made for her that morning. He was sitting on top of one of the lunch tables, Chrissy sitting between his legs on the bench below. Her elbows were resting on his knees and that unfamiliar rage that accompanied jealousy filled her stomach again. Losing her appetite, Joyce put her sandwich back in its Ziploc, saving it for later. She got to her feet, attempting to throw her trash away when she felt eyes on her. Glancing up, her eyes met with Hoppers and he casually scratched the stubble on his chin with his pointer and middle finger.
Joyce instantly noticed his signal asking if she was okay. She replied with a roll of her eyes and glanced at Chrissy, before gathering her book bag and camera. She made her way to the front of the cafeteria and out the side door. The need for a cigarette was overbearing.
Yearbook was the last class she has for the day. Even though her classmate still didn't have a thing to do with her, it was easier knowing her work would be appreciated, or at least looked at fifteen years from now when her peers were flipping through their old class momento. Working on a piece for the wrestling team, Joyce flipped through her photos, taken one evening at a match with their school rivals. Hopper had their captain in one of his unbreakable holds.
Skimming through the rest of the photographs she had selected for this piece, Joyce noticed they all had the same key element. Hopper. She hadn't taken a single photo that didn't have him in it. She felt the skin of her collarbones begin to warm at the sight of him. He really was the perfect guy. He always had her back, in more ways than one.
Turning over the next photograph, Joyce wrinkled her nose in disgust. In the background, cheering Hopper on was Chrissy. Joyce remembered the conversation Chrissy and Hopper had in the hallway on Wednesday when she dropped her English folder. Where are we going on Friday night? Chrissy had questioned as Joyce stalked to the cafeteria. Hopper had a date with Chrissy tonight. Thankful she hadn't finished her lunch, Joyce neatly stacked the photographs into their folder, before dropping it into her bag.
The parking lot at school had cleared with the exception of Hopper's truck and Joyce hung back at the staff parking lot, ensuring no one would see her hanging about. When Hopper's tall frame came into view, she waited until he was at his truck before running toward him, the hood of her flannel coat covering her face.
Hearing the sound of running shoes, Hopper looked up, surprised to see Joyce hadn't already started the walk home. He grinned as he watched her gracefully jump through his driver's side door and scoot down into the floorboard of the passenger side.
"You know you don't have to sit down there Joyce. There is literally no one here who will see you riding shotgun." He chuckled as he climbed into his truck and slid his key into the ignition.
"Still too much of a risk. I don't want anyone to say anything that might compromise your date tonight." Joyce comments sourly and folds her arms in the passenger seat.
"Come on, you can't be mad at me for going on a date that you forced me to set up." Hopper stated, turning his truck out onto the main road. Adjusting himself in his seat, he did a quick check in his mirrors, before letting Joyce know the coast was clear. He watched as her small form uncurled from the floorboard and climbed into the seat. Without being prompted to do so, Joyce slid across the seat and right into Hopper's side. He quickly put his arm over her shoulders like he usually did and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder.
"Guess today was a little stressful for you huh?" He questioned, as he flicked on his turn signal and turned right onto Murkwood.
"You could say that. I'm just not feeling myself today." She sighed, snuggling closer to his chest.
"I don't have to go on that date tonight you know. I can stay home, we can eat some soup or watch a movie or something. Maybe hang out at the tree house? I can read one of those cheesy romance books aloud to you if you want." Hopper offered, already planning out a night with her in his arms.
"We can't do that Hop. You know as well as I do if you cancel on Chrissy she's just going to show up at the farm. Which would lead to me, and I don't have the energy to deal with her tonight."
They sat in silence for the remainder of the drive, neither one of them knowing what to say. Finally reaching the farm, Hopper and Joyce quickly knocked out his chores for the evening. The sun had started to set when they unceremoniously walked onto the porch of the farmhouse, sliding off their shit covered boots.
"I'm going to go jump in the shower real quick, you can hang out in my room if you want. You gotta help me pick a nice shirt to wear." Hopper whispered as they climbed the steps toward his room. Taking his suggestion to heart, Joyce followed him.
Sliding off her jeans and putting on a pair of his sweatpants, she laid across his bed, making sure to use his pillow and not her own as she waited for him to get out of the shower. Mary had recently bought him an Orange flannel shirt that Joyce had fallen in love with. It wasn't too tight but showed off his form nicely. Maybe that and a pair of his darker jeans. Probably his nicer boots instead of the ones out on the porch.
Hopper got out of the shower, trying not to focus on the feeling of dread in his stomach. He really didn't want to go on this date. There was just too much that needed to be done at the house. The hayride was coming up in a few weeks for Halloween, not to mention that a fence still needed to be mended on the western pasture and he still needed to put plastic over the windows at the tree house. All of this he and Joyce could be doing together, but no. She was forcing him to go on a date with Chrissy, even though she knew good and damn well that he didn't really even like her. Hell, he didn't even want to be in the same room as her. He just wanted Joyce. The kisses they had been sharing over the past few weeks were more than what he could have ever needed. He just didn't understand why she couldn't see that.
Quickly running his towel over his hair, Hopper wrapped it around his waist and left the bathroom. Ignoring the trail of steam that followed him down the hallway. Opening the door to his bedroom, his eyes land on Joyce's small frame, currently snuggled up in his bed, her arms wrapped around his pillow. The fight he had been wanting to pick dropped from his mind. She never fell asleep this early. Walking over to the bed, he sat down facing her. Her hair had fallen down into her face and he reached out as gently as possible to tuck the strand back behind her ear. When she didn't move, he knew she was out cold. Guess she hadn't been lying when she said she was exhausted.
Looking at his watch, Hopper saw it was seven-fifteen. He had told Chrissy he would pick her up at eight. Going to his dresser he pulled out a pair of boxers and slid them on under his towel. Once he was safe in the confines of his cotton prison, he let his towel fall to the floor. Walking to his closet, he picked out a shirt he thought would be suitable for the occasion. An Orange flannel that his mom had bought him earlier in the month. Grabbing a pair of jeans, he pulled them on, jumping a few times as he got them up onto his hips.
By seven-thirty he was ready to go physically, but mentally, he wasn't in the game. He had no desire to leave the farm or Joyce, not even for a few hours. She was still sleeping when he put on his cologne, looking peaceful while she slept. He wished she was that peaceful all the time. Squatting down in front of her, Hopper once again slid her unruly hair behind her ear.
"I wish it was you I was going out for a night on the town with." He whispered, not wanting to startle her. When she didn't move, he leaned down and ever so gently kissed her temple. He could have sworn that she sighed in her sleep. Standing, he covered her with his old quilt and turned the light off as he went out the door. On to a date he has been dreading for weeks.
Joyce awoke in total darkness. Taking in her surroundings, she realized she had fallen asleep in Hopper's bedroom. Sitting up on the bed she read the time on the clock. It was nine forty-five.
"Shit." She thought to herself as she climbed out of bed.
Grabbing a piece of paper out of Hopper's desk, Joyce wrote him a quick note saying she had gone to the tree house. Quickly signing her name, she grabbed her coat off the floor and headed downstairs. On the kitchen table was a bag full of snacks and clean sheets. Mary's familiar script was flowing across a sheet of paper saying she had stocked up on their usual supplies, washed the sheets, and was heading into town with Greg to get plastic for the tree house windows. The maternal feelings Mary always exuded for Joyce were lovely, if not entirely strange. Joyce wasn't her daughter and yet she treated her like one. Always making sure she had clothes on her back and food in her stomach. She hoped that one day she would be able to repay the Hoppers for everything they had done for her.
Picking up the bag of supplies off the table, Joyce made her way out onto the front porch. She grabbed the spare key from under the loose board of the bird feeder and locked the house up, then made her way to the tree house.
She knew the path by heart, not even needing a light to guide her and being alone out in the fields didn't scare her as it used to. Two years ago she wouldn't be caught outside after dark unless Hopper was with her, but now she had no fear, at least not of the animals that usually stalked about the outskirts of farm at night.
Careful not to step off the path that led to the tree house, she sighed when it came into view. Her supplies seemed to grow heavier with each step she took. Stuffing the bag into her book bag, Joyce began the climb up the ladder, careful not to drop her key for the lock in the process. Opening the hatch, she climbed up and into her sanctuary.
It looked the same as it had a few days ago with the exception of the dirty sheets and clothing missing from the corner. Mary probably swung by and grabbed them, and Greg to gauge the amount of plastic he would need. Her books were still in the corner and Hoppers .22 still on the gun rack on the opposite wall. Glancing at the floor she noticed the random bits of dirt and grass scattered around on the floor. She hadn't been feeling herself, and the cleanliness of the tree house shown the effects. Going to their small kitchen area, Joyce filled their baskets with the snacks Mary had left. Fluffing the small table cloth that sat atop their makeshift table, Joyce began to clean. It was what she had been trained to do, so to speak. Go to school, come home, and before you even think about doing your own thing, clean the house, cook dinner, and clean again before homework. If she was lucky, and her father didn't get angry, she could then take a shower, do her school work and go to her room, hopefully being able to lock the door before he noticed.
She once again opened the hatch to the tree house and began to sweep the dust and debris out onto the grassy field that her tree was surrounded by. Picking up the little piece of trash here and there, Joyce was finished in no time. She quickly closed the hatch and returned the broom to its corner. The little bit of cleaning she has done had drained her for some reason. All she wanted to do was lay in the bed and wait for Hopper to find her.
Moving the cushions from the couch, she stacked them neatly at the foot of the fold out. Adding a fresh sheet and comforter, Joyce climbed onto the bed, putting her back against the opposing armrest. Using what little moonlight that was flicking through the trees, Joyce found herself lost in a new novel, and not for the first time.
Chapters later, a rustling brought her out of her fictional wonderland. Glancing out of the big window she froze. A light was shining through the woods. Of the four people who knew where the tree house was, none of them needed a flashlight to find it. Her pulse started the quicken at the thought that her father had found her hideaway. What if he was trying to come and get her right now? Carefully getting up from the bed, Joyce tiptoed toward Hopper's gun rack.
When Hopper had first found out about her father's abuse, he had taught Joyce how to use his rifle.
"It won't kill them if you aim for an arm or leg, but it sure as fuck isn't going to feel good." He commented as he stood behind Joyce, showing her how to aim.
Remembering the hours of target practice by Hopper's house, she moved back to the couch, once again looking out the window to see the light had gotten closer. Sitting with her back to the wall and the twenty-two in her lap, Joyce watched as the flashlight circled the tree house twice. Not coming close enough for her to see who was wielding it, she watched it retreat back into the woods in the direction of her trailer.
Twenty minutes later, the sound of Hopper's secret knock filled the tree house as he opened the hatch. Joyce had the twenty-two pressed into her shoulder, not sure if someone had learned his secret knock.
"Jesus Christ Joy!" Hopper yelled as he climbed the rest of the way through the opening.
"What's going on, Why do you have my rifle out?" He asked, worry clear in his voice.
Joyce was off the couch and in his embrace in seconds. Wrapping her arms the best she could around Hopper's waist, she handed the rifle over to him.
"Joyce you're scaring me, please tell me what the hell is going on." He stated against her hair.
"There was someone out there Hop, out in the woods. They had a light and I know you and your parents don't need one. They left and headed east like they had walked here from my trailer! What if it was him? What if he found me?" The words rushed out of Joyce's mouth in a jumbled mess. Hopper could feel her shaking under his arm.
"Look, Joyce, it's okay. I'm here now. I'm here and nothing is going to happen to you okay? We need to calm down and catch our breath before you go into a panic attack. Just breathe." Hopper encouraged her as he put the safety back on the rifle and laid it across the small table.
"I can't keep doing this Hopper. One day he's going to find me and he's going to beat the shit out of me. It gets worse every time. You've seen what he can do."
"I know honey, I know just breathe okay, you're starting to scare me." He pleaded.
At the mention of Hopper being scared, Joyce began to focus on getting air into her lungs. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to recover from a panic attack when she was already exhausted, she sank against him. He carefully grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into his arms.
"I got you, Joy, I always do."
He placed her on the bed before toeing off his boots and unbuckling his belt.
"You shouldn't be out here now anyway, it's too cold without the windows covered."
"I don't want to be a burden on your family Hopper. They already do so much for me." She whispered as she picked at her fingernails, a habit Hopper knew meant she was nervous.
"Your not a burden Joyce. My parents love you, I love you. We will do anything for you and you know that." Standing to slide off his jeans, he begins to quickly unbutton his shirt. A small part of him is ecstatic that Joyce doesn't look away like she usually does. Sliding in beside her, he opens his arms.
"Come here and let me hold you."
It takes no more encouragement for Joyce to snuggle into his embrace. Her hand lands on his chest, absentmindedly playing with a few of the curls that started to appear two years ago. They lay there in silence, Joyce just breathing in the smell of him. His fingers are running through her hair, trying to soothe the anxiety he knows is bubbling beneath in her body. It's when Hopper shifts that Joyce smells a hint of a flowery perfume on him.
"How was your date?" She whispers into his collar. Hating the fact that she can smell her on him.
"Nothing special. Went and got a hotdog, and then she talked my ear off as we drove around. Then I took her home." He waited for Joyce's reply but she didn't say a word.
"I feel like you're mad at me." He stated as he pulled her closer.
"I feel like I'm mad at you." She began to pick at her fingers again. He put both of her hands in one of his to stop her.
"Let's just not talk about it okay? I just want to lay here with you. And I'll say it again, you are the only woman I want to be with."
"I know Hop. You don't know how much I hurt because I want to be with you too."
Hopper placed his thumb and pointer finger on her chin, encouraging her to tilt her head up. When her eyes met his in the dark, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip.
"All you have to do is say the word and I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me."
"That's what I'm afraid of. What if I want you forever and you decide you don't want me? I would be completely lost without you." She admits.
"You really think I wouldn't want you for the rest of my life? I want to be with you more than anything. Not just here, but everywhere. I want to walk down the street with you on my arm. Showing everybody that you're mine, and I'm yours."
Leaning down, Hopper placed a light kiss on her lips. He was overcome with joy when he felt her press back. He felt her nip him, asking permission to enter his mouth and he gladly offered her what she wanted, running his tongue across her lower lip. He felt her hands go up to his hair, carefully running her fingers through it where she gently pulled his head back, wanting access to his neck. He felt her place a kiss over the pulse point in his throat and the sensation of her tiny bites were doing things to him he had only thought about with her. His boxers were becoming snug with the excess flow of blood and before he knew what was happening Joyce was straddling his thighs.
"Joyce. I don't think you want to do that." He breathed out, not wanting his growing length to take her by surprise.
"I just want to sit right here okay Hop? Just let me be close to you for a while, I promise I'm not going to do anything else. I just want you to be close to me."
Hoppers' hands are resting on Joyce's hip as she once again lays her head on his chest. He's sure she can hear the pounding of his heart beneath her ear. His hand moves to the small of her back where he lets it rest. Staying like this for hours, Joyce's exhaustion is more than she can handle, she's sleeping against his chest and Hopper doesn't move a muscle.
The weekend goes by in a blur of chores and helping winterizing the tree house. This weekend is the Hoppers Hayride for Halloween. With so much to do and so little time to do it, snuggle sessions between Hopper and Joyce have become scarce. They have mowed the lawns, decorated the farm for Halloween, started working on canning vegetables from the garden. The tree houses windows are now covered with thick sheets of plastic, and the back deck has been reattached. By the time Sunday rolls around, everyone on the farm is exhausted. Greg is called into the station to deal with an arrest warrant that has dropped in his lap. Kissing Mary on the cheek he heads out the door waving to the kids who are sitting on the front porch swing. The sight of Greg pulling out of the driveway reminds Joyce that she has run out of her necessities from home.
"Hop I have to go to the trailer." Joyce says as she threads her fingers with his.
"Whatever you need from the trailer I can get for you tomorrow after school."
"You don't understand, I'm bloated and I'm cramping. I need to go get that stuff. Not to mention my Halloween costume is still there."
"Come on Joyce, you know I can get whatever you need. I don't want you to go back to that place." He says with a note of finality in his voice.
"It's Sunday Hopper, he won't be there. I'll climb in my window like I always do, grab my stuff and bolt. You can meet me at the tree house and help me get everything inside. We will be back in time for dinner, I promise you."
He squeezes her hand. "I don't know, I have a bad feeling about this."
"I have to go. If I'm not back in an hour, you'll know where I'm at. You can simply swoop in and rescue me okay?"
Sighing, he lets go of her hand. She takes that as her signal to go.
Hopper is looking down at his watch. "You have exactly one hour Miss Horowitz. If you're not back by then I'm storming that trailer got it?"
"Yes sir." Joyce laughs as she gives him a small salute before leaving the porch and heading toward the fields.
The closer she gets to the trailer, the more anxious she becomes. Hopper was right as usual, something doesn't feel right. Climbing over a fallen tree, the small trailer she has lived in off and on since she was three comes into view. It's brown with rust and a lack of cleaning. Her small front porch should be condemned just by itself. Keeping to the woods, she walks up to her bedroom window and listens for any sign of movement inside. Finding the coast clear, Joyce steps on top of the cinder blocks below and slowly opens the window. Pulling herself through, she tumbles over the threshold landing firmly on her shoulder. She fights through the discomfort of falling at such a weird angle and rights herself. Sitting up and regaining her composure Joyce stands to her feet with the help of her dresser.
"Well, Well, look who finally decided to bring her ass home." A voice as cold as snow echos through her bedroom. Her heart rate doubles in seconds.
Stepping out from the empty space between her dresser and her bookshelf is her father. "I was wondering when you were going to bring your sorry ass home. Figured you wouldn't be too much longer. It's been about two weeks since you snuck in here last." Travis has moved so close she can smell the whiskey on his breath.
"Figured you just come sneaking back like you always do, taking what you haven't earned. You think just because it's in this house that you have some sort of claim to it?"
Joyce tries to steady her breathing as Travis runs his finger up her throat. Her knees have started to tremble and she anticipates the harsh hit she knows is coming. Looking down, he notices Joyce's jacket.
"Where did you get this thing at? I know you can't afford it on your own. You got you a sugar daddy out there somewhere?" Joyce doesn't answer, not wanting to give away any information that could lead back to the Hoppers. A hand smacks across her face so fast Joyce didn't see it coming and the all too familiar sting flashes across her cheek. She doesn't reach her hand up to touch the reddened skin. Knowing it just eggs him on.
"You're going to break into my house and then ignore me?!" Her father yells, his spit flecking onto her face and neck. He reaches out and grabs her tightly by her upper arms and she knows she is going to have bruises there. Just like she already has on her ribs.
"You're not going to leave this time you little bitch." He yells and smacks the same cheek again. Unable to fight back the tears that come with trauma to the face, she keeps her mouth shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction that she's hurting.
Grabbing Joyce by her hair, he pulls her into the living room. His favorite place to deliver punishment since the room is bigger than the bedrooms, allowing him more range to swing and kick.
"I'm going to teach you to leave again, and when I'm done with you, you won't be able to climb through any windows matter less walk." Joyce scrunches her face up, prepared to take whatever he wants to give to make through the twenty or so minutes she has until Hopper comes looking for her.
Banging at the door startles her, making her jump under her father's hand.
"Mr. Horowitz, this is the Hawkins Police Department. We know your inside, we heard you talking. Open the door or we're coming in!" A voice yelled from the other side of the front door. Grabbing Joyce by her neck, he pushes her onto the couch.
Crouching down in front of her he whispers into her ear. "Not a word from you or I'm going to break your arm, got it?"
Joyce nods her head and watches as Travis walks to the door, straightening his shirt as he goes. Opening the door, Joyce sees Greg Hopper taking up the width of the frame. Greg takes a look into the house, spotting her on the couch and then looks back to Travis.
"What can I do for your chief?" He asks, bringing his practiced charade to life.
"Mr. Horowitz, I have a warrant for your arrest. Seems you missed your court date on Friday."
"My court date is set for the 25th chief." Joyce's father spits back as he places his arms across his chest and leans into the door frame.
"Yes, sir, and today's date is the 27th. Now, why don't you go ahead and turn around and we can get this done and over with? Mary has dinner on the stove and I'm ready to go home." Glancing behind Greg, Joyce saw three more deputies at the ready. Knowing he wouldn't have a chance in hell of running, her father slowly turns around. His eyes back on Joyce.
"I'll deal with you when I get back. Don't you leave this house." He threatens.
"You alright over there Miss Horowitz?" Greg's voice calls as his deputies put her father in the back of their squad car. Joyce is afraid to move. Knowing her father can see her through the open window.
Greg steps out onto the porch, instructing the deputies to head back to the station. Letting them know he was going to take a statement from Joyce then head home. Not needing to be told twice, they follow their chief's orders. He waits for the deputies and her father to pull out of the driveway before he is at her side.
"Joyce, darlin are you alright?" Greg asks as he squats down in front of her. He can see the unmistakable hand print on the side of her face and places his hand on her knee, not wanting to startle her by touching her face.
"What were you doing here? You know if you needed anything we would get it for you."
"I don't want to be any more of a burden than I already am." She whispered so quietly Greg barely hears her.
"Honey you're not a burden. You know if you just let us help you the legal way you wouldn't have to see him ever again. I can make him go away."
Joyce shook her head. "Everyone would know. I would be treated as more of a freak than I already am." She's continuing to fight the tears that are wanting to leave her body, the only way of coping she has left. Knowing she's going to break soon, Greg helps her stand up.
"Come on darlin, get what you came for and let's go home. We're going to clean you up and put a hot meal in you. I'm sure Jim is starting to go stir crazy worrying about you." Joyce nods and stands shakily on her feet, but loses her balance and grabs onto Greg for support. She doesn't realize she hugging him until he wraps his arms around her. She's crying into his pressed uniform shirt, not even caring she's leaving tear stains on it. Greg simply holds her, letting her cry and patting her head until she can't cry anymore. Finally catching her breath she steps back from him. Trying to hide the shame she feels for breaking down in front of him, she walks into her bedroom and quickly grabs her Halloween costume and the remainder of her clothes. Greg loads her stuff into his Suburban and helps her climb into the seat.
"Come on Joyce, let's go home."
