I look over at her and find that she’s pressing her fingers to her temple like it’s throbbing.
I cut off the vacuum and close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her.
“Breathe, sweetheart. You’re going to give yourself a headache.”
“What was I thinking?” she cries with a frown. “I’m six months pregnant. This is too much.”
I place my hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “You wanted to do something fun and spend time with friends and family on your favorite holiday. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, nobody cares if the entertainment center is dusty or there’s a crumb on the floor. That only matters to you because this is our home and you want it to look nice, but everybody else is going to be focused on all these crazy decorations, the food, and Osiris in the corner.” I point to the scary realistic mummy she bought. I came down the other morning and screamed because I thought someone broke in.
She laughs at that and cracks a smile. “I see your point.” She inhales a breath. “It’s going to be fine.”
I step back and finish vacuuming, winding up the cord and putting it back away in the closet.
An hour later, we’re finished cleaning and setting out the decorations, so we get ready and change into our costumes.
/> I’m kind of thankful that this year they’re simple. Last year Thea went as Maleficent and I was a dark prince.
Once I’m ready I’m tasked with the job of putting Prue in her costume.
“Ugh,” I groan. “Thea, you know she hates wearing these things.”
She parts her lips, applying mascara. “She has to wear a costume too. Those are the rules.”
I sigh. “Fine, but she’s going to hate me for the next month for this.”
Wrangling Prue into her costume is a chore. She hates them and tries to take them off. But every year, Thea insists on her wearing one.
Next year, I’m burning the costume.
I grab the costume off the end of our bed and make a face. It’s a fucking unicorn. Poor Prue.
“Come here, Prue,” I call, clucking my tongue.
She runs up the stairs but when she sees the fabric in my hands she turns and runs like she already knows.
I sigh and chase after her, back down the stairs.
I find her under the dining room table and I call her name. “Prue. Come here, girl.”
She’s not budging, though.
I groan and stand up, heading into the kitchen so I can get a treat.
Normally, the sound of me opening the treat jar would send her running, but not this time.
“Prue, come on, please,” I beg.
I crouch back down under the table and try to get her, but she refuses.
“Your mother is going to kill me,” I warn her.
She looks up at me with big brown eyes and slowly creeps toward me.
“I’m sorry, girl,” I tell her honestly as I put the costume on her.
She looks ridiculous, but I’m sure Thea will think it’s adorable.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Thea comes down and goes, “Aw, Prue, you look adorable.”