Then, on Halloween, he finally does.
* * *
“It’s a Halloween party, Megan. That means you’re supposed to wear a costume, not the clothes you wear every other day of the week!”
Suzanne has her hands propped on her hips. She’s looking me up and down with an expression of disgust. It’s Tuesday night, I’ve just arrived at her house, and we’re supposed to be on our way to Booger’s for their annual Spooktacular event, but I’m not sure Suzanne is going to let me out of her house without donning some ridiculous getup like the one she’s wearing.
“I refuse to be seen in public looking like a roll of toilet paper, Suzanne.”
Aghast, she looks down at herself. “I’m a mystical mummy!”
“Mystical? That explains all the glitter in your cleavage.”
“Seriously, I can’t let you out like that.” She waves
