Free Starting Over by Barbie Bohrman

me.
    Uh-uh, not this woman. No way!

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T here are two types of people in this world: those who love Halloween and those who hate it. I fall into the former . . . big-time.
    Don’t get me wrong, Christmas is great too, and I love celebrating it with my family every year. Who doesn’t want to get presents from some jolly old man in a big red suit from the North Pole? But Halloween? Well, I fell in love with Halloween as soon as I was told that I could dress up in a costume and ask people for candy. The idea that I could become whomever I wanted for a day blew my mind. I was that kid who was already thinking of costumes by the end of the summer, and I was also that kid who had her mom sewing up until the moment I went trick-or-treating because I kept changing my mind about who or what I wanted to be.
    Some of my fondest memories of Josie are of the Halloweens we’ve shared. Even before she was born, since I didn’t know if she would be a boy or a girl, I bought unisex costumes so I would be prepared. Luckily, or really because she had no choice in the matter because I pretty much shoved it down her throat, she loves the holiday as much as I do.
    I usually help out as much as I can at Josie’s school events. This year, when they finally decided to take my advice and have a Halloween dance, I jumped at the opportunity to be a chaperone as well as help decorate. So for the last couple of days leading up to tonight’s dance, I’ve left work and hightailed it to her school to work with other volunteer parents to get the decorations ready. I would be a liar if I didn’t say that every time I set foot on the school’s property, I’m not a little anxious about running into Cameron.
    Okay, maybe a lot anxious.
    I haven’t seen or spoken to him since I practically sprinted out of the coffee shop a couple of weeks ago. And if I’m being honest with myself, I feel bad about that. One, because I assumed that he must be some sort of science-teacher Casanova with all the single parents of the female persuasion. And two, he was so nice, and even if nothing ever happened between us of the romantic variety, which I still am on the fence about because I bet Josie would probably freak out if it ever did, I meant what I said to him about needing a friend in my life. And he seems so genuine and kind that I think that he would be a great candidate to fill that position.
    So I’ve come to the conclusion that if I do see him, I won’t run. I’ll talk to him and be civilized and try to get to a point where we can be friends. Maybe . . . we’ll see. At the very least, I’ll apologize for my behavior that day at the coffee shop.
    I’m putting the finishing touches on my costume when I call out to Josie from my bedroom to see if she’s almost ready to leave.
    “Mom, that costume is awesome on you,” she says when she appears in the doorway.
    I turn around to find her in what I can only assume is supposed to be a costume, but I’m not sure. She’s wearing a green, oversized T-shirt over tan leggings with a thin green mask like Zorro’s over her eyes.
    “What the hell are you supposed to be?” I ask her.
    “Leonardo, I think,” she says. “Oh wait, no, that’s Carrie’s costume. I’m Michelangelo, and Lorelei is going to be Donatello.”
    “You’re all going to be famous Renaissance painters?”
    “Mom, haven’t you ever heard of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
    “Ooooh, okay! Oh that’s kind of cute,” I say and go back to putting on the final piece of my costume. “Here, help me with this, please?”
    Once she’s done, I take a step back and inspect myself . . . I do look awesome!
    I bought this Batgirl costume from a seller on Etsy about three months ago and have been dying to wear it. It’s authentic Barbara Gordon circa 1960s style: black vinyl bodysuit with the yellow bat sign across the chest, matching yellow gloves with the spikes, and a yellow belt with a bat on the buckle. To finish it