"There. Isn't that better, sweetie? That fits you a lot better. The other one was a bit off in several ways, and this one . . . well, yes, you look a lot better in this one."
Janice was giving Ward a much-admiring look from head to toe.
"Uh. Yes, I do like the Batman suit a lot better than the clown costume. But won't Peter be upset? I mean . . . a clown costume," Ward said.
"Oh, Peter will never know it was meant for him if you don't tell him. He's a bit smaller than you, so the clown suit will be closer to his fit."
"It will still be short in the legs and droopy in the belly for him, though," Ward responded as he admired himself in the mirror. Yes, he had quite good musculature on his own, but the strategically added padding in this Batman suit gave him truly superhero proportions. He'd been particularly amused by the added padding in the crotch.
"Well, Peter's your husband. If he asks I'll just say you picked out the costumes."
"Leslie picked out the costumes, Ward. If she'd meant you to have the clown costume, she should have known the measurements better. She's your wife."
Janice knew exactly why Leslie had picked out the costumes she had, though. And Janice was willing to bet that there had been no mix-up with the measurements either. Leslie wanted to humiliate her husband, Ward. She'd been doing it in small ways for some time. And there had seemed to be little rhyme or reason to it. Ward was a hunk, and a real catch as a husband and father. But Janice just this afternoon had come to realize that her supposed best friend's motives and schemes went beyond making fun of and diminishing her husband.
They had both been in Leslie's kitchen earlier that afternoon, putting together their treats supplies for handing out later in the evening before they went off to their own costume party. Janice had gone with Leslie to pick up their costumes before that, and the differences between what Leslie had picked out for Ward and Peter had struck Janice even then as odd.
But then that afternoon Janice had seen Leslie in her dining room writing a note on a slip of paper. The doorbell rang, and while Leslie went off to answer that, Janice slipped into the dining room and read the note. It surprised and confused her, but later, as she worked it over in her mind, she thought she'd gotten the drift of what it meant.
When Leslie came back, Janice watched her slit the wrapper of a Snickers bar and slip the note inside and come back into the kitchen and open a cupboard, place the Snickers bar inside, close the cupboard, and come back to where Janice was working. The innocent expression on her face incensed Janice and at that moment she decided what she was going to do about it.
It was seeing the Snickers bar being brought into play with the note that had begun to clue Janice in on what was happening. That's when she volunteered to help the men with getting their costumes on and adjusted.
"But now that I've got you sorted out," Janice was continuing in the bedroom with Ward, "I'll have to go home and relieve Peter in case there are some earlier trick-or-treaters. He'll bring the kiddies over here to wait while he changes, and then you two men can take our combined broods around for their candy fix before you, Leslie, Peter, and I slip off to the costume party."
"Umm, thanks for the help with the costumes, Janice. And I won't say anything to Peter about the costume switch."
"No problem, sweetie. See you later. Time for me to become a nurse."
Ward watched Leslie exit the room, his eyes going to the swing of her hips. He had been embarrassed when she was in the room while he was changing. He was afraid that she'd see the effect she had on him—the effect she had on most of the men in the neighborhood. But if she'd noticed, she certainly hadn't said anything. That was Janice all over: inscrutable and unattainable, but oh so luscious.