Speaker 1: Calarogu Shark Media, Hello and welcome to Romance Weekly. This
episode is titled Haunted Heart's Part One, The Haunted Meat Cute.
Speaker 2: The shrill ring of Emma's alarm cut through the peaceful
October morning, startling her awake. She groaned, fumbling for her
phone on the nightstand. Six thirty am glared back at her,
a harsh reminder of the day ahead Halloween carnival preparations.
Before she could even sit up, a whirlwind of energy
burst into her room. Mom, Mom, wake up. Her eight
year old daughter, Zoe bounced on the bed, already dressed
in her witch costume, complete with a pointed hat a
skew on her messy brown curls. We can't be late
for the carnival set up. Emma couldn't help but smile
at Zoe's enthusiasm, despite her own reluctance. We won't be late, sweetie,
I promise. Now, how about you go downstairs and pour
yourself some cereal while I get ready. Zoe nodded vigorously
and dashed out of the room, her cape fluttering behind her.
Emma sighed, dragging herself out of bed and into the
shower as the warm water cascaded over her. Emma felt
the familiar knot of anxiety form in her stomach. She
had never been a fan of Halloween, with its emphasis
on scares and sugar induced hyperactivity, but as the only
single parent on the pta, she'd been guilted into chaperoning
the school's Halloween carnival. It'll be fun, they said, The
kids will love it, they promised. Emma wasn't so sure. Downstairs,
she found Zoe at the kitchen table, milk sloshing over
the edge of her bowl as she excitedly spooned cereal
into her mouth. Easy there, little witch, Emma laughed, pouring
herself a much needed cup of coffee. We don't want
to have to change your costume before we even leave
the house. Zoe grinned milk, dribbling down her chin. Mum,
did you know that real witches don't actually wear pointy hats?
I read it in a book at the library, But
I still like wearing mine because it's fun to pretend.
Emma ruffled her daughter's hair affectionately. Is that so well?
You learn something new every day? By eight thirty they
were in the car, navigating the morning traffic. Zoe chattered
away in the back seat, her words tumbling out in
an excited stream about ghosts, goblins, and how many pieces
of candy she planned to collect during the carnival games.
The school parking lot was absolute chaos when they arrived.
Parents and children swarmed everywhere, a cacophony of car doors
slamming and excited voices. Pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and cartoon ghosts
adorned every available surface. Emma took a deep breath, plastered
on a smile, and turned to Zoe, ready for some
Halloween magic Kiddo. Zoe nodded enthusiastically, practically vibrating with excitement.
As they made their way through the crowd, Emma's attention
was caught by a man struggling with an enormous box
of decorations near the school entrance. He was tall, with
tousled dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass.
Emma found herself staring, her steps slowing unconsciously. Suddenly, the
man lost his grip on the box. In slow motion,
Emma watched as an explosion of fake spider webs, plastic pumpkins,
and rubber bats erupted into the air. Without thinking, she
lunged forward, arms outstretched to catch whatever she could crash,
Emma found herself on the ground, tangled in a mess
of spiderwebs and Halloween paraphernalia, face to face with the
handsome stranger. His warm brown eyes crinkled with embarrassment and amusement.
I'm so sorry, he said, his voice a rich baritone
that sent an unexpected shiver down Emma's spine. I guess
I bit off more than I could chew with this
haunted house set up. Emma felt a blush creep up
her cheeks as she realized the compromising position they were in. No, No,
it's my fault. I should have looked where I was
going instead of trying to play hero. The man chuckled,
carefully extricating himself from the tangle of decorations and offering
Emma a hand up. I'm Jack, by the way, Jack Cooper.
I'm new in town, just moved here with my son
Max Emma Johnson, she replied, taking his hand and trying
to ignore the spark she felt at his touch. And
this is my daughter Zoe. Zoe, who had been watching
the whole scene with wide eyed fascination, suddenly piped up
Are you the one running the new haunted house, mister Cooper?
My friend Tommy said, it's supposed to be super scary.
Jack's face lit up. That's right, it's called Cooper's Creepy Castle.
We're setting up a mini version here for the carnival.
Do you like scary things, Zoe? Zoe nodded enthusiastically. I
love ghost stories. Mom doesn't really like them, though, she
says Halloween is just commercialized spookiness. Emma felt her face
heat up again as Jack raised an eyebrow in her direction.
Is that so, miss Johnson not a fan of things
that go bump in the night. Before Emma could formulate
a response, a boy about Zoe's age came running up,
his arms full of more decorations. Dad, I found the
fog machine. Jack turned, grinning at the newcomer. Perfect timing, Max.
This is miss Johnson and her daughter Zoe. They've kindly
volunteered to help us set up our haunted booth. Emma
opened her mouth to protect she most certainly had not
volunteered for anything of the sort, but the words died
on her lips as she saw the hopeful look on
Zoe's face. Can we muam please, Zoe begged, bouncing on
her toes. I want to see how a real haunted
house works. Sighing inwardly, Emma nodded, Sure, why not, We're
here to help after all. The next hour passed in
a blur of fake cobwebs, plastic skeletons, and spooky sound effects.
To Emma's surprise, she found herself enjoying the process. Jack
had a knack for making even the most mundane tasks fun,
cracking jokes and sharing behind the scenes stories from his
Haunted House business. As they worked, Emma learned that Jack
was a widower, having lost his wife to cancer three
years ago. The haunted house had been their shared dream,
and he'd finally gathered the courage to make it a reality.
In her memory, Emma felt a pang of sympathy, thinking
of her own failed marriage and the challenges of single parenthood.
So what's your story, Jack asked, as they hung a
particularly gruesome zombie prop If you don't mind me asking
that is, Emma hesitated, then shrugged. Not much to tell.
Divorced three years ago, Zoe's dad wasn't ready for the
whole family thing. He's in California, now chasing his dreams
of becoming a rock star. Jack nodded sympathetically. That must
be tough. You're doing a great job with Zoe, though
she's a great kid. Emma smiled, warmth spreading through her
chest at the compliment. Thanks, Max, seems wonderful too. You
two must be very close. As they talked, Emma found
herself relaxing, her earlier anxiety about the carnival fading away.
There was something about Jack's easygoing nature that put her
at ease, making her laugh in a way she hadn't
in years. Suddenly, a piercing shriek cut through the air.
Emma whirled around to see Zoe and Max huddled by
the fog machine, which was belching out thick clouds of
white smoke at an alarming rate. I think we broke it,
Max cried, frantically, pressing buttons no weight. Jack started, but
it was too late. With a loud pop, the machine
exploded in a massive cloud of fog, engulfing the entire booth.
Coughing and sputtering, Emma felt herself being pulled to safety
by a strong hand, Jack's hand. As the fog cleared,
Emma found herself once again face to face with Jack,
their bodies pressed close together for a moment, time seemed
to stand still. Emma was acutely aware of the warmth
of Jack's hand on her back, the flex of gold
in his brown eyes, the slight curve of his lips
as he looked down at her. Are you okay, he
asked softly, concern evident in his voice. Emma nodded, not
trusting herself to speak. Her heart was racing, and she
wasn't sure if it was from the fog machine mishap
or the closeness of this intriguing man. The spell was
broken by the sound of Zoe and Max's laughter. Emma
turned to see the kids covered in a fine layer
of fog residue, looking like miniature ghosts in their own right.
That was awesome, Zoe exclaimed, high fiving Max. Can we
do it again? Emma couldn't help but laugh, the tension
of the moment dissipating. I think once is enough for today, sweetie.
Let's get you two cleaned up. As they herded the
giggling children towards the restrooms, Emma caught Jack's eye. He
smiled at her, a warm, genuine smile. That made her
stomach do a little flip, you know, he said, leaning
in conspiratorially. I have a feeling this Halloween is going
to be one to remember. Looking at Jack's twinkling eyes
and her daughter's joy filled face, Emma found herself nodding
in agreement. For the first time in years. She was
actually looking forward to Halloween. Who knew what other surprises
this spooky season might bring.
Speaker 1: Romance Weekly is a production of Calaroga Shark Media executive
producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Portions of this podcast
may have been created with the assistance of AI
Speaker 2: Calaroga Shark Media