He peeked around the door to count the ghosts or pirates climbing up to their porch. He grabbed up two wrapped Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups apiece and knelt behind the door.When the bell rang, he slid the door open wider and stuck out his long arm. Waiting until he felt the edge of a bag under his wrist, he dropped the candy. Then he repeated the process twice more.“Painting your arm was too much,” she said. “And where is my candy?” He always overbought for Halloween, but he was thoughtful enough to buy her favorite. She was going to add five pounds in the next three days.“It’s only food coloring. It will wash right off.” He took one wrapped cup from his stash and started to hand it to her. “I have to drop it in a bag.” He pulled her blouse out with his right hand and dropped the candy from the dyed one. She saw right then that she should change from her office clothes. She had her own plans for this night. He would stay close to the door and answer every ring of the doorbell. She. More than anything, though, it was the frustration which was eatingaway at him. Frustration that, romantically, he was on his own.Frustration that, despite his knowledge, he struggled to find work.Frustration that whilst he knew he had fallen deeply in love with Emma,the feelings did not appear to be reciprocated. Above all, though itwas the frustration that, thanks to the years of abuse he'd sufferedfrom Anne, had robbed him of what little self-respect he'd ever had.As he had increasingly done over the past few weeks, Richard put hishead in his hands and cried uncontrollably. In his despair, he'd notheard Emma come in through the front door and she was now standing infront of him."What's the matter Richard?" she gently asked.Richard looked up in shock. No-one, especially not Emma, was supposedto see him like this."It's nothing. Don't worry," he replied trying to dry his tears."If that's what you're like when nothing's wrong, I'd hate to see youwhen there is something wrong. I think.
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