“I feel uncivilized.”
I leaned in and grabbed a fistful of his vest with a cocky wink. “You look uncivilized, too.”
Lukas pried himself free. “Woman, this is a festival for children. Keep ye filthy hands to yerself.”
“Please don’t do the accent all night.”
“It’s that bad?”
“I hate it.”
Lukas chuckled. “All right, all right. Fine. I’ll stop. What’s the deal for tonight? Where can I help?”
Lukas’ costume certainly looked hot on him, but him asking how he could help was even hotter. He was the man I always knew he could be, and I was getting all hot and bothered under my sparkly princess gown. I willed those urges down, reminding myself what he’d said about this being a children’s event, and pulled my phone out of a pocket sewn into my skirt. “We’re the chaperones for a group of kids arriving at eight o’clock. I think there are five of them.”
“Five kids and two chaperones?”
I nodded. “They have some special needs that can make navigating an event like this a little tricky. We’ll have to be aware of certain sensory stimulations like flashing lights or too much smoke, but I have a list of activities we’re going to do that I think they’ll all really enjoy. Oh, that might be them there.”
Lukas followed my gaze to the parking lot where a white van had just pulled up to the curb. A man and woman got out of the front seats and slid open the sliding door on the side of the vehicle. Several children came out, and the last was lowered on a lift off the back of the van in a wheelchair. We crossed the foggy lawn to meet them, and I hoped we would be able to think quickly on our feet to make sure she could still participate in all the games.
We met the workers driving the van who thanked me for hosting this event yet again. They told me the children had been talking about it for weeks now and that everyone was excited to be there.
I grinned as I shook all the kids’ hands. “I’m so happy you’re here, too. We have some new additions since last year that I think you’ll love. My name is Kayla and this here is my friend Lukas. He’s going to hang out with us tonight. If you’re lucky, he might teach you some old-fashioned pirate terms.”
Lukas performed a swashbuckling jig. “It’s about time ye pipsqueaks got here,” he crooned like a pirate. “The princess hasn’t let me near any of the activities. Now that yer here, I can finally do what I do best.”
The children, all roughly eight or so years of age, stared at him blankly.
Lukas straightened and blinked down at them. “Don’t ye know what pirates do best, ye wee lads and lassies?”
I snickered into the puffy sleeve of my princess dress. “Wee lads and lassies?”
Lukas let my amusement roll off his shoulder as he planted his fists on his hips. “We cause trouble. That’s what. Now, are ye ready to cause trouble with me?”
The children nodded. Their escorts returned to the van laughing to themselves while Lukas and I had everyone hold hands so we could make our way back across the foggy lawn together and to the first activity station.
Lukas talked to the kids the entire time, especially to the young girl in the wheelchair, who seemed the least intimidated by his costume. In fact, she seemed more intrigued than anything else. Like the rest of the kids, she was in costume. She wore a witch hat and a long black velvet dress. Her shoes had cardboard buckles taped to them that had been painted gold, and someone, a parent I assumed, had painted a mole on her nose. The socks peeking out between the hem of her dress and the top of her shoes were striped and it looked like she belonged at the end of a yellow brick road.
The four other children were timid and shy. They hung back behind me, all holding hands, and stayed huddled together for moral support. Coming out to such a popular event like this was a big deal, especially for kids who might be more susceptible to sensory stimuli like lights, fog, and scary noises. As we walked, I assured them that we wouldn’t go anywhere scary unless they wanted to. For now, we were going to stick to some old-fashioned fun.
“Like what?” Addison, the young girl in the wheelchair, cocked her head to the side and nearly lost her hat. She set it back straight again.
Lukas turned to the first tent. Inside was a giant bucket filled with water. Beside the bucket were baskets full of apples. He grinned. “We’re going apple bobbing.”
Addison lifted her nose at that. “I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
Lukas swaggered out in front of her. “Fine then. I’ll do it in your place. Sound fair?”
Addison shrugged.
“There’s a surprise to be won, you know,” Lukas said.
I opened my mouth to correct him that actually, there was no surprise. But he held a finger up to me and crouched down in front of Addison. The other children gathered around and he made eyes at them, the way a camp guide might while sitting around the fire telling ghost stories.
“If you get an apple,” he began, “if you’re lucky enough, of course, you’ll have good luck for the rest of the night. You won’t have to try to have fun because, well, you’ll just be having it because of the luck. It’s an All Hallows Eve tradition. So, what do you think? Who wants to go first?”
I watched, bemused and impressed, as the first young boy stepped up to the bucket of water and went to his knees on the stool in front of it. He was too short to go without the stool. He had shockingly bright blond hair that hung in tight curls around his temples. His costume, a superhero I didn’t recognize, was half
