A row of bushes covered in fake cobwebs and skeletons made of cut-up milk jugs led Harriet and Sam to her dad's house. As usual, he'd gone all out with the decorations, although he'd mercifully listened to her plea to keep things spooky instead of scary for Sam's sake.

Sam itched at the scales he'd sloppily face-painted onto his cheeks. "Do you think Grandpa will like my costume?"

"I'm sure he will," Harriet said. He'd certainly prefer it to hers. She'd decided to forego a complicated costume this year, instead opting to wear a simple t-shirt with a mummified dog holding a bone and saying, "I found this humerus." At least the joke would be sure to get a chuckle out of him, although Sam was still a bit young to know much body humor besides fart jokes.

Sam rang the doorbell far too many times, nearly spilling candy from his bloated bucket each time. "Trick or treat!" he yelled as his grandpa opened the door.

"Well if it isn't my favorite little dinosaur." Elijah plunked a king-sized Snickers bar into Sam's bucket and ushered them inside. "Come on in. Your grandma and I are just about ready to start bobbing for eyeballs."

"He means apples," Harriet's mother called from the kitchen as if she could see the look of sheer horror on Sam's face. "And they would have been ready half an hour ago if someone hadn't insisted on dyeing the water red."

Harriet hid her discomfort with a soft chuckle. Her father looked and sounded even worse than she'd expected. His breath rattled beneath his shaggy brown sweater, and the face paint failed to make him look like a fierce werewolf, instead showing him as the tired old man he really was as the makeshift fur drooped along with his wrinkles.

"Are you sure this won't be too much for you?" Harriet whispered as Sam scrambled into the kitchen to offer his grandma a packet of Skittles.

"I'm fine, my little peony. Besides, it was a hoot to finally have a reason to decorate! Nia's been on my case about taking it easy, but even the local fun police can't resist spoiling Sam."

He led her through the house so she could admire how much work they'd put into preparing for the party. "I just about sprained my wrist carving that," he said as he gestured to a jack-o'-lantern depicting a zombified witch. Or was it just an exceptionally mean-looking old lady? Harriet didn't ask. "Those booklets are full of fancy pants designs these days. No more goofy faces! Now it's all graveyards and goblins."

"It still makes more sense than the Halloween trees I've seen. They might as well start calling it Orange Christmas."

Elijah chuckled, which turned into a cough. "We'd better go check on Sam. Mind the spiders," he said as Harriet tiptoed around a plastic creepy crawly peeking out from inside a pair of her dad's slippers. "Sam'll get a nice big bucket of candy when he finds all five."

Sam emerged from the bucket of red water in the kitchen with a crabapple in his mouth. "Got one!" he yelled around the fruity mouthful before spitting it out.

"Why don't you give it a shot?" Nia said as she threw out Sam's apple.

Harriet dunked her head into the water, shivering as the coldness seeped through her hair. Her mouth brushed against something firm hidden in the murky redness, yet no matter how she contorted herself the fruits slipped out of reach. When her teeth finally sank into her sweet target, she rose to the surface to a round of applause.

"You've still got it," her dad said.

"Barely." Harriet gratefully accepted a towel from her mom and dried herself off as best she could. Now that her turn at the game was over, the urge to bake gnawed at her like a kid crunching on a caramel apple.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Hm?" Harriet's eyes snapped to her mother's.

"You seem distracted," Nia said. "Would you like me to fix you some tea?"

"That would be lovely."

With her mom boiling her a kettle on the stove, Harriet was forced to resist her urge to bake whether she wanted to or not. What had come over her? She'd only been bobbing for apples. The only thing bothering her had been the chill of the water. Surely that wasn't enough to warrant using Carol's trick?

It took all of her willpower to leave the kitchen and flop onto the couch in the living room between a pair of teddy bears dressed up to go trick or treating. The entire living room was infested with stuffed animals. Sam eyed a cross-eyed bat warily until his grandpa turned it to stare into a corner. "Don't mind him," he said. "He's just jealous he doesn't get to make his own mask."

A rainbow of crafting supplies lay scattered across the table with everything from construction paper to pipe cleaners and even beads that lit up when shaken. Sam didn't hesitate to start gluing as many green beads as he could onto a sheet of paper, no doubt grateful to have a replacement for the itchy green face paint that had already smudged to make him look less like a dinosaur and more like a seasick alligator.

Nia passed Harriet a piping hot cup of tea before settling down to add a fistful of feathers to her mask. "What's a witch without a bit of wildness?"

"A crazy cat lady," Harriet said as she sipped on her tea. The minty warmth eased the tension from her shoulders until she was practically melting into the couch. She wished this moment could last forever. Freshly brewed tea, all the candy she could care to eat, and a happy family. What more could she ask for?

Her father turned away from Sam to wheeze into his sleeve, his thin frame trembling as if a slight breeze could make him collapse in on himself. A healthy family, Harriet thought as her throat tightened. The heat going down the wrong pipe sent her sputtering.

"Deep breaths," her mom said as she gave her shoulder a tight squeeze. She understood. The sweetness of seeing those two together was tinged with the bitterness of knowing this might be their last holiday together, or at least their last Halloween.

"That sure is one fierce-looking T-Rex," he told Sam as he steadied his raspy breathing and examined the mask he'd created. "I'd love to see it in action. Grandpa's gotta go rest for a minute, but I'll be right back."

He dragged himself off the couch, pausing to take deep breaths before shambling to another room.

"Hey Sam," Harriet said, "I saw a huge spider earlier. Why don't you go see if you can track it down?"

Her mom thankfully caught on. "Your grandpa's seen five of those little boogers running around. I bet he'll give you something real cool if you can catch them all."

While Sam ran off on the scavenger hunt with Nia in tow, Harriet went where she knew her father would be.

He sat in his study, surrounded by a jungle of potted plants and the quiet hiss of his oxygen tank. "I didn't want Sam to see me like this," he said as he gestured to the massive machine.

Harriet took a seat in the rocking chair that was usually reserved for her mom, swaying back and forth as she stared at the orchids, ferns, and daffodils. Anywhere but at that machine or her father's sunken eyes. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

He let out a rattling sigh. "I can't do much anymore, my little peony, but I can still enjoy a visit from my favorite daughter and grandson."

"I'm your only kid," Harriet said with a smirk.

"It's a good thing you blossomed into such a wonderful woman, then. I just hope you'll take good care of yourself when I'm gone. Life's too short to be tangled up in worrying all the time."

"I'll try." She took his hand in hers. Gone was the rich shade of potting soil, instead replaced by a pale duskiness on his increasingly thin fingers. "Once you've rested a bit, do you think you'll be up for doing a little baking? Just you and me?"

"I'd like that very much."

Sam proudly presented a fistful of plastic spiders to his grandpa as soon as he felt up to coming out of his study. "You'd better be careful," he said, "One was hiding in the toilet paper."

"Who needs an exterminator when I have such a sharp-eyed grandson? I'd say you deserve a big reward for helping me find those little guys."

As promised, a massive bucket loaded with candy awaited Sam. Jumbo lollipops towered over candy bars, a nest of gummy worms, and chocolate-covered marshmallows. He'd even snuck in a bag of the satellite wafers Harriet had loved when she was a kid. Bits of candy rattled inside the wafers' thin shells as Sam passed her the bag.

"You found the first one," he said between marshmallows, "so you should have these."

"Thanks, buddy." Harriet's hands trembled as she stashed the candy in her purse. She'd get too emotional if she started eating those now. "And thank you, Dad. You always know exactly what'll tickle my sweet tooth."

"Speaking of which," he said, "let's get baking!"

His wife looked at him as if he'd told her to start decorating for New Year's. "Don't you think you're overdoing yourself a bit?"

"Nia, I'm not getting any younger, so I'd better enjoy the time I've got." He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "If it gets to be too much, I'll stop."

"Well, alright. But only if you save me some of whatever you're going to make. I'm going to need some sugar to get me through the rest of the night."

After debating what to bake, they settled on chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream. "Can't go wrong with the classics," Elijah said.

It didn't take long for them to immerse themselves in their old routine. They moved through the kitchen not as a frail old man with COPD and his stress-worn daughter but as two bakers joined together by the spicy scent of vanilla.

"I wish I knew how to help you," Harriet whispered.

"You already do, my little peony." His smile had long since gained a smattering of gaps, but the warmth was still there. He turned to cough, gripping the countertop to support himself before catching his breath and continuing, "Spending time with you makes me the happiest man alive."

She took his hand in hers and gripped it so tightly she could feel his pulse hammering away beneath her fingers, despite how faint it was. Maybe there was one thing, one last thing, she could do. "Nothing I do will ever be enough," she said, "but I'm glad it's better than nothing."

The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled as he gave her a gentle smile. "You will always be enough, and don't you dare let anyone tell you any different."

She kept his thin fingers in her grasp as they whisked the bowl, not wanting to let him go for even a moment.

"I just hope Sam never forgets how much I love him," Elijah said. His rattling breath eased to a steady rasping like the tide lapping against the shore.

"I'll make sure he won't."

By the time Harriet had finished piping chocolate sauce faces onto the buttercream, her father moved with an ease she hadn't seen from him in years. He swept one of the cupcakes off the plate and offered it to Nia with a grin. "I told you I've still got it."

She took a bite of the cupcake, moaning in ecstasy as the richness of the chocolate blended with the sweetness of the frosting. "That you do, honey."

"Thanks, Grandpa!" Sam tackled him with a hug, leaving a trail of frosting dripping down his sweater.

"Anytime, kiddo." The earlier warmth in his voice had dulled under the influence of the oven, but all Harriet cared about was how his breathing had eased from haggard rattling to a gentle flutter.