Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Byron and I exchange a look. Sometimes, you have to take your victories where you can get them.
“Hot chocolate can wait until we’re back!” calls out Byron. “I’ll get him changed!” I exclaim, then run with Weston to his room for yet one more attempt at putting on the socks, after which who knows how much of the costume we’ll manage before he chickens out again.
Amazingly, it’s the whole thing: Byron has made a little Pumpkin Prince out of our son. I swear, the kid is somehow inexplicably a spitting image of both of us as he stands there in his little outfit Byron meticulously put together over the past month in the desperate hopes that this would be “the year”.
Apparently it is.
We take it slow at first, walking with Weston just to our nearest neighbors, all of whom are surprised to see our little boy out for the first time. Byron and I agreed not to push our luck; there’s no telling when Weston will decide he’s too spooked to go on.
Apparently that’s not going to happen tonight. With no warning, Weston suddenly wants to go everywhere in the whole neighborhood. At each household, he gets more and more in character, demanding that he must be acknowledged as the notable Pumpkin Prince. To our delight, everyone plays right along, some of whom go as far as to bow or curtsey to Weston and say, “Trick or treat, your royal Pumpkin majesty.” Weston is gracious and thanks each of them in turn, then wishes them a Happy Halloween before racing off excitedly toward the next house. Byron and I can hardly keep up.
By the time we’re back home, the little prince can’t stop talking about how much fun he had. He dumps his loot all over the living room floor and starts organizing by color and size. With Weston being far too wound up for hot chocolate anymore, Byron and I make it our own treat as we cuddle on the couch and watch our son dramatically recount (and at times reenact) his tales of venturing into the dangerous unknown that’s Halloween night, returning with his sweet and delicious spoils he hopes impresses his Pumpkin Kingdom subjects.
I guess he likes candy now.
And Halloween.
It’s half past ten when Byron and I finally get him cleaned up and in bed. “Sweet dreams,” I sing as I head toward the door. “Nighty-night, my little prince,” sings Byron, following me out.
But it’s Weston’s next question that causes us to stop in our tracks. “Are ghosts real?”
I stare back at our little boy. Byron, too.
“I’m just asking,” says Weston defensively.
I guess Byron and I are taking too long to answer. I step back into the room. “Why do you ask that?”
“No reason.” He clutches his bed sheets and frowns at us. Then he gives in. “I just wondered if maybe dogs turn into ghosts. Maybe. I don’t know.” He sulks.
I look at Byron pointedly. Byron nods back.
I guess it’s time.
We come into the room. I pull out the chair from Weston’s drawing table (he’s super into doodling and colors, taking after me) and sit in it while Byron sits on the edge of the bed. Sensing he’s about to get a talk, our son sits up in bed and clutches his pillow, staring at each of us suspiciously.
“You miss Casper, huh?” I start off asking. Weston nods. “We miss her, too.”
“We sure do,” agrees Byron.
I lean forward. My voice turns soft. “Do you … ever wonder where your name came from?” He shakes his head no. I smile. “Well, I once had a very good, nice friend. The nicest friend ever.”
“Wouldn’t go that far,” mutters Byron, smirking.
I throw Byron a look. We both chuckle. I return my attention to a somewhat confused Weston. “Anyway, he was my best friend. His name was Westley Harmeyer. And … he was a ghost.”
Weston’s eyes grow double. “A ghost? Really?”
“Yep. A real, true, seriously serious ghost. And though he annoyed me sometimes, Westley was a good person at heart. He taught me how to be courageous. If it wasn’t for him, I’d never have been brave enough to meet Byron, and now look at us!”
“You’re both Pumpkin Kings!” cries Weston.
“That’s right. And y’know what? It’s ten years ago today that Westley became a ghost.”
“Really??”
“Yep.” I take hold of Byron’s hands as I continue to tell Weston the story we’ve kept in all these years long. “Halloween is a very, very special time for us. It’s also the day your daddies got married.”
“I know that,” groans Weston, sick of hearing that story. “But you never told me about Westonlee!”
I chuckle. “His name is Westley. He doesn’t come around much anymore, but I always think about him. And when I think about him hard enough, I feel him …” I put a hand to my chest. “Right in here. In my heart. He never left me. He never went away.”