The party is still going, but we’re running out of appetizers. Fear not! I grab the bottles and the spices and the knives, and I get ready to save the night.

I feel like my knife-juggling is enough entertainment for the night, really.

Too bad no one’s really watching.

I’m having fun anyway.

Oddly enough, people start swarming around me only once I’m done preparing the petit fours. Even Naomi. Et tu, Gram!

The guests have arrived! The decor is set, the costumes are dazzling… Here comes the best party of the year! It starts with dancing in our remodeled dining room. The right music, and sugar-frosted cookies laying around, what else do you need.

The zombie Roman legionnaire and the schoolgirl in torn up uniform are just Mom, and my little sister, who changed her mind on what costume she wanted to wear.

Lots of Mom and Dad’s friends around. I know these two. They’re Charlotte of course, the high school brat, and Pari. Mom never told me Pari’s full story, but from what she’s saying now, I gathered she’s doing well, now. She got a job at some rehab center. I hear Charlotte snarkily reply “oh, would that be the center that helped you, then?”

I really dislike this Charlotte character. If I were Pari, I’d probably also resort to turn my back to her and eat the cheese eyeballs.

Actually as the party progresses, we all start gathering around the cookies, and pretty soon, everyone has a plate in hand, including me. And I have to admit, these sugary bats and ghosts and pumpkins? They taste really good.

… Aunt Shanna didn’t get the memo about being in costume. Not in raincoats.