Page 76 of Finding Amanda

The rest of the day felt shockingly normal. Mark insisted on taking the girls trick-or-treating, and Amanda didn't argue. After spending Sunday searching for the two costumes, they'd spent the afternoon decorating their front porch with spooky plastic spiders and jack-o-lanterns. They'd even hung a white sheet from the porch roof to look like a ghost.

Sophie dressed as Hermoine, Harry Potter's brainy friend. Madi chose a Rapunzel costume, her long, flowing blond wig catching on everything as she modeled it all afternoon. Amanda waved goodbye to them as they drove away, headed for the neighborhood behind their house. Their home, set as it was on the main road, was not a great starting point for trick-or-treating. Happy to hold down the fort, Amanda set the alarm after they disappeared in the darkness and sat down to work. If Mark wanted to enjoy the annual door-to-door freeze-fest with the girls, that was fine with her.

She moved her laptop to the dining room table to be close to the door, in case a random trick-or-treater rang. Fortunately nobody walked their busy street on Halloween, and even if theydid, the long walk down their driveway kept the little ghouls and ghosts away.

Amanda checked her emails and schedule. With a shock, she saw she was slated to go out of town the following weekend. In the chaos of the previous week, she'd forgotten about a commitment to teach cooking classes at a retreat in New Hampshire. She took out the next day's agenda and added:confirm with clients,confirm with Mark,plan menu for weekend, andgo grocery shopping.

Finally, she settled in to get some editing done. After two hours, Sophie and Madi came in, red-faced and grumpy. Mark followed them, no cheerier than the girls. Their moods improved as they dumped their booty on the living room floor to pick through the brightly-colored labels and swap favorites.

Mark helped them, digging through the candy and pocketing the Paydays.

"Okay, girls," Amanda said, "time for baths and bed. Sophie, go run the water. Madi, put the candy away and take it to the kitchen, please."

High on sugar and sleepy from the long day, they whined until Mark gave them hisobey your mother or elselook. Sophie bolted up the stairs. After a thank-you glance at her husband, Amanda watched as Madi put each piece of candy back into its proper plastic pumpkin—hers was pink, Sophie's was purple—and took the buckets to the kitchen.

"I'm going to work on the faucet," Mark said. "Then, do you mind if I go through those clothes?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." The three of them went up the stairs, Mark disappearing into the master bedroom, Amanda and Madi joining Sophie in the bathroom.

Amanda managed to read a bedtime story and get herdaughters tucked into their beds by nine o'clock—much later than usual, but it was Halloween. Judging by the number of trick-or-treaters Mark said they'd seen that night, she figured hers wouldn't be the only grumpy children at school the next day.

She popped her head into the master bathroom to find Mark half-inside the bathroom cabinet.

"How's it going down there?" she asked.

A muffled, inaudible answer. Then he slid out. "Almost done. Turn the water on, would you?"

Amanda did. "Looks good up here."

"No leaks down here, either."

She turned the tap off. "I appreciate it. Hey, I wanted to remind you that you have the girls again this weekend. I have to go to New Hampshire to teach a class."

Mark sat up. "What class? What are you talking about?"

"I told you about it a while ago. I'm scheduled to teach at a retreat. Friday night, Saturday breakfast, and Saturday dinner, so I have to leave Friday at lunchtime. You can get the girls from school and?—"

"No." Mark stood up and wiped his damp hands on his jeans. "I don't want you going anywhere right now. It's not safe."

"It'll be fine. Nobody knows I'm going to be there."

"What if one of the women is in contact with him?"

"Don't be silly. Why would they be? It'll be perfectly safe. I have to do a book signing in Concord Saturday afternoon, but that's so public?—"

"What if he shows up there?"

Amanda's stomach flip-flopped, but she shrugged to cover her fear. "If he shows up, I'll tell him I'm not going to publish the manuscript. And then he'll leave me alone. Do you want to take a break and kiss the girls goodnight?"

His lips turned down. "Yeah. But we're going to talk about this later."

Of course they would. She left him to his work and headed downstairs to finish her day's editing. When she was done, she checked the clock to find it was after ten. Was Mark still upstairs, or had she been so engrossed in her work she hadn't realized he'd left? She looked into the living room and saw his jacket lying across the sectional. Apparently he was still slogging through the clothes.

Amanda filled two glasses with iced tea and carried them up the stairs. When she opened the bedroom door, she stopped short at the mess. "Holy cow, did your closet explode?"

Mark looked up from where he was standing beside the bed, surrounded by piles of clothing. He half-smiled. "What's that?"

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