Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she wore more makeup than Markie had ever had on, complete with bright-pink lipstick, fake eyelashes, purple eye shadow, and long, thick swaths of eyeliner that extended out from the outer corners of her eyes, Aphrodite style. Four different costume jewelry necklaces wrapped around her neck, one of which matched her three-inch-long earrings.
“Well . . . ,” Markie said, desperately trying to think of something to say other than, Oh no you don’t! Not on my watch!
Jesse cleared his throat, and when she met his gaze, he said, “Lola’s dressed as a genie.”
“Ohhhh!” Markie said. “A genie!”
“Like from the show,” Lola said shyly. “I watch it with Carol.”
“The I Dream of Jeannie show?” Markie said. “I didn’t know that was still on. I used to love that one!”
“It’s only on real late at night,” Lola said, in a tone that suggested she didn’t expect Markie was the type who would be up late enough to see it.
Markie assessed the child’s outfit again. The high ponytail was perfect—she would give her that.
“Ronda wanted to make me a cape,” Lola said. “But that’s not part of the costume.” She looked at Markie plaintively, seeking support from a fellow fan.
“Maybe she was worried you’d be cold,” Markie said.
Lola seemed unconvinced—it was a warm night—but moved on, reaching into her pumpkin. “She made me something.” Turning to Jesse, she said, “I mean, us.”
“You can keep it,” he said. “It’s your ‘Best! Night! Ever!’”
He waved his hands in the air as he spoke, clearly imitating something Lola had done earlier. He was smiling, though, not sneering, happy about her excitement, not mocking it. She smiled back as she produced from the pumpkin a small totem of two figures attached together, one holding a paper flashlight, the other clutching a Hershey bar as tall as the figure itself. She held it out to Markie, who admired it and handed it back. Lola set it carefully back in the pumpkin, pushing it with her finger until she was satisfied with its placement.
“Look at these!” She extended a foot for Markie to admire. “These are Patty’s. She said I could use anything I wanted in the whole apartment to make my costume.”
“They’re beautiful,” Markie said. “But can you walk in those for an hour?”
Lola nodded, and Jesse said, “If you consider tripping every few feet to be ‘walking,’ then yes.” He poked the girl gently in her tummy. “I thought I might have to carry her over here. I already warned her that my piggybacking days are over, and no way are we dealing with a scooter tonight.”
Angel, who had been weaving in and out between the three of them as they talked, spied Lola’s extended leg and attacked it with her tongue. Lola burst into giggles and fell to the floor.
“Not my makeup!” she squealed, pushing the dog’s face away. Angel wouldn’t be deterred. Turning to the dog, Lola said, “Hey, Angel, can you roll over?” The dog lay down and rolled over, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. “Good girl,” Lola said, rubbing the furry belly.
“You taught her to roll over?” Markie asked Jesse.
“Patty did,” he said. “Yesterday, while we were carving the pumpkins. So what do you think we should do, Mom?” He pointed directly at the back of Lola’s head.
Markie nodded conspiratorially. “You know, Lola, I had an idea earlier.” She paused to give herself time to make something up. “I have some old sheets upstairs. Some regular-size ones and some from when Jesse was a baby and had a crib.”
Lola giggled without taking her eyes off the dog. “Baby Jesse. Baby girl Jesse.”
“Grandpa Lola,” he fired back, and she giggled harder.
Markie looked at her son, who shook his head. “It’s just a thing we do. So what was your idea? About the sheets?”
“You two might think it’s silly,” Markie said, “but I saw it online.”
It was a shot in the dark, but it hit—Lola stiffened as she listened to hear more.
“I guess a lot of kids this year are dressing with their dog,” Markie said. “You know, matching costumes.”
Lola’s hand came to a stop on Angel’s belly.
“And I was thinking about those old sheets. White ones . . .” Markie paused for Jesse to catch up.
“Ghosts?” he said. “As in, cut holes in sheets and be ghosts?”
“Lame?” Markie asked.
“Brilliant!” he said. “Lola! Right? You and Angel could both be ghosts!”
Lola turned to look at him, and it was plain she was thinking about it. She gazed down at her pink high heels, then reached up to touch one of her dangling earrings.
“And,” Jesse said, clearly thinking on his feet, “the beauty of it is, you can still be a genie, too! Only, you’d be a genie under the ghost. A secret genie!”
“A genie ghost,” Lola whispered, and her hand moved away from her earring.
“Right, only everyone else would just see the ghost, right?” he said. “And the genie part would be, like, totally covered by the sheet. ’Cause otherwise you won’t match Angel.”
“Unless she’s a genie ghost too!” Lola said.
“That would be so cool,” Jesse said. “Except it’s . . . uh . . . already getting late, and I don’t know how long it’d take to rig her up in both costumes. But it sounds like my mom’s got a sheet for her, so I’m thinking we go with pure ghost, right? And you know, if we stopped at Mrs. Saint’s first and got those white running shoes of yours, that would be even better. They’d be harder to see under the sheet than those pink shoes.”
“It would look like I’m floating on air!” Lola squealed.
She jumped up and ran to the door, kicking off the high heels before she opened it. “I’ll get them now!”
Before Jesse could answer, she was tearing across the patio in her skimpy outfit and bare feet.
“Nice save, Mom,” he said.
Ten minutes later, they were ready to go, a resigned Angel wrapped in half of an old crib sheet.
Markie held up her camera. “Lola, can I get a picture of the two ghosts?”
Jesse stepped away, and Markie knew better than to try to coax him to be in the shot. But at the last second, Lola tugged on his sleeve to pull him closer, and to Markie’s surprise, he not only consented, but he also agreed to hold Lola’s pumpkin so she could pose with her hands in the air.
“No one sees that one but the three of us,” he told his mother as he walked out the front door, the two ghosts running ahead of him on the walk.
“I’m pretty sure everyone next door is going to see it if you let Lola have a copy,” she warned. “Maybe everyone at her school, too.”
He closed his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t considered the full ramifications of smiling for the camera, pumpkin in hand.
“You could always tell her there’s only going to be one copy, and it’s going to stay in this house.”
“Jesseeee!” Lola called from the end of the walk, where she was bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Come onnnn!” She bent to adjust the half crib sheet they had dressed the dog in, then dropped to her knees and hugged Angel around her neck. “Best night ever, Angel!”
His eyes on the girl and the dog, Jesse said, “Nah, it’s fine. She can have her own copy.”