The mirror gave her an idea she was shocked she hadn’t thought of herself.
Karl might recognize her eyes beneath the costume, in the center of the muttonchop sideburns.
Wolverine, his favorite character, was the choice from the beginning.
At 5’1” Drea fit into a kid’s costume without a problem.
She kept telling herself she wanted to see Karl, see him interacting with kids, the kids they never had, but she wanted to see his new young wife too.
She only told Naomi, who said, “It’s silly, but fuck it, go for it.”
The reason she only told Naomi is because she knew that Naomi would say “it’s silly, but fuck it, go for it.”
Naomi also said “What if the new chica is dressed as Catwoman and you guys fight?” and that thought, the silliest of all, crossed her mind as she walked down Cascade, turning onto Hayes, where Karl had moved and decorated for Halloween, giving her the idea in the first place.
What if? so many things.
What If? was also the name of a comic book.
The last sex had been passionate, probably memorable even if it hadn’t been the last.
The confession of infidelity two days later was spine shaving in its suddenness, its unnecessary detail.
Then divorce proceedings like two wet dogs clawing each other’s eyes out in a scrapyard, followed by 18 months of complete silence.
She just wanted to look at him again, fully clothed, not in court, being nice to a child so she could plant that memory in her head like a sapling and water it, remind herself she hadn’t married a complete asshole and loved him for twelve years.
Drea merged into a line of kids, many of them taller than her, giving her some comfort, calming some nerves.
She turned left up the walkway of Karl’s new house, ugly forest green trim, she thought, cheap store-bought scarecrow tied to the faux gas light.
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