Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [26]
“Right now, all I want to do is carve a pumpkin,” Matt said. “Cut me a break here.”
“Well, since you put it that way, I could use a break, too. I’m pretty much pumpkined out.”
He smiled. “Consider yourself sprung.”
Kate grabbed a cart and loaded it with four jack-o’-lanterns. She made her way to the front of the house, where costumed beer lovers had already gathered. Once there, she slowed her pace enough to check out the guests. The event, like her emotional state, was high school all over again. The women had taken the borderline bawdy path to apparel, while the men had gone for minimal effort. Among the male ranks, there looked to have been quite a run on Grim Reaper costumes. Kate counted five of them in the crowd already. Two Grims were tall and skinny, and the other three of more well-fed dimensions.
The taproom was in full Halloween mode, too. The front windows were edged with strands of orange lights that glowed warmly against the dark wood trim. Tealights adorned each table, adding to the festive look. And an appetizer bar had been draped with orange linens and decorated with absurdly grinning skulls that shone from within. Kate wished she could stay and mingle, but there was work to be done.
She thanked one of the tall-and-skinny Grims as he held open the front door for her and the pumpkin cart. A sharp blast of wind greeted her. No doubt a storm was brewing out on the lake. Chilled, she hustled the cart over the mosaic mural, then hung a left to the end of the jack-o’-lantern line that Laila had already started.
Once Kate had her pumpkins in place, she patted her pockets for a light. She had none, of course. She turned her back to the wind and headed to the bar to snag a pack of matches. Inside, she spotted Laila chatting with a Grim Reaper. Market owner Marcie Landon was with them. She was very fittingly costumed as a tape measure. The bit of tape showing from the front of the bright yellow box was probably marked to perfect scale. The tall-and-skinny Grim definitely liked Laila, hovering close enough to be in her personal space. Laila didn’t seem to be objecting, either. She was laughing at something the Reaper had just said. Kate smiled, waved, and moved on.
Outside again, she hunkered down by the first jack-o’-lantern and pulled out her pack of matches. Two sputtered and died even before she could get them to the tealight waiting inside, and the next two were snuffed by a draft coming through the pumpkin’s eyes.
“Okay, then,” she said to herself and sat down cross-legged on the sidewalk. Clearly, she would be awhile.
“You need a lighter.”
Kate looked up past a pair of sensible white server sneakers and standard Depot uniform to Laila’s serene face.
“I don’t suppose you have one?” Kate asked.
Laila pulled out a rectangular silver lighter adorned with what looked to be crystals. She flipped it open with a distinctive click, bent down, and did in two seconds what Kate hadn’t accomplished in four matches.
“Sometimes the old things are the best,” Laila said.
Kate smiled. “Obviously, you haven’t seen my house.”
* * *
AT ELEVEN that night, Kate lay in bed, unable to sleep. The contractor had found her leak. Evidently, when Junior had regrouted the shower tile in her master bathroom, he hadn’t inspected the shower pan. It had completely failed. Even worse, he’d reset the toilet without a proper seal, and raw sewage had swept underneath her bathroom floor. The water damage from the shower and toilet had infiltrated her living room, causing her floor to warp. The contractor was coming back tomorrow to pull up her water-damaged floor and tile. Kate had tried to call Junior several times but he wasn’t answering—probably in his best interest, given the problems he’d caused.
The good news was that it seemed like a pretty simple fix, and the contractor thought he could do it for a couple thousand dollars. More than