Page 37 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“Oh. Well. Alright.”

“I was kidding. I think Lily is happy with local business and doesn’t want to take on out-of-towners.”

“Problem solved. On to food.”

“Yes. Let’s.” He pulled the lattice strip away from his little leather-bound notebook. “Who’s doing the cooking?”

“I’d been planning on asking Olivia.”

“Really? Have you talked to her?”

“Well, no. I just…”

“Asking is always a good policy where women are concerned.”

“Well, certainly, I was planning to ask. Perhaps I can pop by tomorrow and woo her?”

I grinned. “She deserves that. You know she needs a reason. It can’t be money. Brounies can get all the gold they want. They work for self-satisfaction and appreciation.” As I said that, the seed of doubt formed that I probably didn’t give either Dolan or Liv enough recognition. “So, what are we having for dinner?”

“I want to know what you think, but you know, Olivia does such a grand job with Legendary Lunch, I was contemplating leaving the menu up to her.”

“A fine idea. The best really. Oh! Just a minute.”

I reached into my purse sitting on the floor by my chair and pulled out my phone. A minute later, I showed John David a photo of a bottle of Blue Moon wine.

He barked out a laugh. “White. Well, I guess we’re having seafood.”

“October is a month with the letter ‘r’. So, we’re cleared for oysters if that’s what Liv wants.” He was scribbling in his ancient looking notebook. “Why don’t you get a few bottles of this? Open one, try it, if you don’t care for it, create an illusion. On the day of the party, empty out all the bottles and refill them with a white that you like. Leave the bottles on the table so people can appreciate the label tie-in and serve themselves.”

“Rita,” he laughed softly, “you are both clever and surprisingly devious. I love it.”

“I don’t think I want to be known for being devious.”

“Very well. I won’t tell anyone who doesn’t already know.”

By the time I reached the last sip of tea in my cup, we had ironed out the big decisions.

“Just one last thing.” He looked up, pen at the ready. “About candles. I assume you will want to use blue.” He nodded. “There’s no shortage, just be sure you get unscented because some people, namely me, have a reaction to artificial scents burning.”

“Again, priceless advice.”

“Tell the truth. Are you doing games?” He grinned evilly. “I’m not coming if you are.”

“Just friendly parlor games.”

“No actors or supposedly dead bodies?”

He chuckled. I reacted. “Oh. Sorry!” he said. “Forgot.”

I did a bobblehead thing to indicate, “Okay, but don’t do it again.”

“I guess I’m the only guest whose blood pressure is in danger from fright. So, I ask this as a personal favor.”

“Just things like what’s your favorite song that has blue in the title? What’s the best blue thing in your house? Where on earth is the prettiest blue water?” He looked at me for approval. “Like that?”

“Sure.”

The next morning, I received Blaes for an interview.