Down the Rabbit Hole

She gasped.

“I know. It’s crazy. It hasn’t even been a year, so it’s probably too soon, but I know what I want. Just tell me I have a shot, that you’ll think about it, that we can move in that direction. And when the time comes I promise I’ll do it right,” he continued. “I’ll get a ring, get down on one knee, all that stuff, but please tell me now, so I can breathe, that you still love me. Tell me I have a shot at making you mine forever, my wonderful, patient, loving girl.”

She could barely speak for the smile on her face, but as a tear of joy dribbled out the corner of her eye, she said, “Oh, Jeremy. I do still love you. And you have way more than a shot.”

Something brushed against her leg, and she looked down.

“Hey!” Jeremy pulled her gently to the side and confronted the kid who was scooping up her phone from the ground.

The boy flushed and held it out to him. “I was just picking it up for her.”

“Hang on.” Jeremy took Macy’s phone back and handed the boy his own. “Take this one instead. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Cool!” The kid grinned and took off.

Macy laughed. “That was not necessary.”

“Trust me, I have my reasons.” He gazed at her warmly. “I never want to lose you again, Macy.”

She shook her head. “You never really lost me before. I was yours all along.” She smiled. “And I always will be.”





A TRUE HEART


MARY KAY MCCOMAS





For my granddaughter and copilot on this one, Allyson Elizabeth McComas





Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.

—JAMES A. BALDWIN


Our differences are only skin deep, but our sames go down to the bone.

—MARGE SIMPSON





CHAPTER ONE




“I am so late!” Elise muttered, bursting through the doors of Candy’s Costumes on the north end of State Street. Catching sight of her brother’s wife, Molly, standing before a mannequin dressed as Bo Peep, she added, “And I’m so sorry! I had the hardest time finding this place. I thought it would be bigger.”

Looking around, she could see that the space required to contain Candy’s colossal collection of costumes was in the length of the building, not the narrow forty-foot width of the storefront. It was cavernous, with an overstuffed appearance that made her feel a little claustrophobic.

“That’s okay.” Molly’s attention was on Bo Peep. “I’ve been standing here trying to decide if I want to go cutesy, creepy or cheap flashy floozy.”

Elise mulled it over for a moment. She did adore her big brother, but . . .

“What about Roger? If you go as Bo Peep, will he go as a sheep or a big bad wolf?” They looked at each other, squinting in thought, and came to the same conclusion—Bo’s problem was forgetfulness, not a wolf. There was love in her laughter. “So, Roger as a sheep. I might reconsider and go just to see that.”

“Reconsider anyway. I want you to come.” Molly started picking through a row of neatly hung storybook costumes. “Look at these costumes! They’re fantastic. I can’t wait to see what everyone else wears. Liz thinks you can tell a lot about a person by the sort of costume they pick; more than you can if they’re wearing regular street clothes.”

Elise was considering a mermaid’s tail for Molly and Roger as a starfish, or maybe a seahorse, when something occurred to her and stirred suspicion. She glanced over her shoulder. “I wonder what Liz’s cousin Bill will come as—do they have a nice-guy-with-a-great-personality costume, do you think?”

Molly flinched, but didn’t turn away from the fantasy costumes she was browsing through. “Going by this place, I’m guessing they do.”

“Ah.” She chuckled, good-natured. “The truth reveals itself: Cousin Bill needs a date.”

“And so do you.”

“Not if I’m not going.”

“Elise.”

“Molly.”