“Thanks,” Theresa said. “I’d like to pick up some of those extras from your shed, if that’s still okay?”

“Sure,” Alice said. “You’ve got Kendra’s key for the shed?”

Theresa nodded, pulling her hair back behind her, then swirling it all to one side in front of her shoulder, revealing the leaf pin.

I cringed. Did she really have to wear it so soon?

Bettina noticed it, too. Her face twitched, and she stiffened.

But Alice, our sweet Alice, was predictably chipper. She pointed at the pin. “I love it! We all have them, you know.”

“We all did.” I glared at Pia.

“I lost mine,” Pia said flatly. She shrugged.

Yeah, right. More like hid it away somewhere because it wasn’t her thing. That said, Pia had been the one who had gotten Jackie’s pin back for me. I still remembered her bringing it to my house, clutched in her palm, a satisfied look on her face. Victory.

“Let’s talk costumes,” I said, not wishing to dwell on the pins any longer. “You all saw the link I sent? Any questions?”

I didn’t expect any. It wasn’t like anyone else had come up with a better idea. As usual, I’d done all the work. But I’d much rather it be that way. The party was my baby, after all.

“I’ll take the squirrel,” Bettina said quickly. I knew she’d want to get her pick in before the others. Bettina did not like leftovers—she wanted dibs.

“And I’m the fox,” I said. “The orange and brown will go best with my hair.”

“What else was there?” Pia asked blankly.

“Wait, the fox? Don’t you hate foxes?” Bettina asked, half-distracted watching some relatives arguing over the punch bowl.

“No,” I said. “I just hate some of the things they do. Like stalk the poor mourning doves.”

“She thinks their mating call sounds like a woman screaming,” Pia explained to Theresa.

“Can we please focus here?” I asked, my annoyance sharpening like a lead point on a pencil.

Alice plucked a piece of cheese from a platter and nibbled it. “This will be sooooo cute. I want to be Bambi.”

“That would be perfect for you,” I said. Skittish, fragile, easily frightened. “And, Pia, the raccoon would be good with your hair.”

“Raccoon, good. Black mask, striped tights.” She tapped her behind. “As long as the dress is big enough to cover this, I’m in.”

Bettina motioned to Theresa. “That leaves the skunk.”

Pia tried to turn her laugh into a cough, but we all caught it.

“What?” I demanded. “That’s a good one, actually. A sleek black suit with the black-and-white tail?”

“I think I’d like to be an owl,” Theresa said.

“There wasn’t an owl in the costumes I sent around.” If my voice sounded bossy, I didn’t care.