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climbed the steps and stopped in front of her, touching her rigid green face. Mom opened the door and squealed, leaping over the threshold to crush me in a bear hug.
    I pulled away. “Mom, seriously? A life-sized Wicked Witch of the West standing on our front porch like some beacon to insanity? What were you thinking?”
    “Nice to see you too, Molly.” She brushed past me and jogged down the steps to the van. “Give me a hand.” She leaned into the back, wedging flea market junk into the crooks of her elbows.
    I sighed and walked down the steps to join her. She handed me two lamps shaped like watermelon wedges. “For you. They’ll help chase the zombies away.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Plus, they’ll look great in your room.”
    I stood in silence, the pink-frosted glass grating my palms. Mom dove back into the van. “Get the door for me?” she asked as she emerged, her arms overloaded.
    I lowered the hatch with my elbow and bumped it with my hip. I considered breaking the lamps in the process, but, for Mom’s sake, didn’t.
    “I’m sorry we didn’t stop by the Flemmings’ to pick you up. As you can see, we ran out of room,” Mom said as we walked up the porch steps. The lamp cords slapped my calves, threatening to trip me with each step. I managed to open the screen door with two fingers then backed against it, holding it open for Mom. I set the lamps on the coffee table and my bag on the floor.
    Mom emptied her arms onto the sofa then sat. “Did you have fun at Lenni’s?”
    “Mom, can we talk about her please?” I pointed through the screen at the black-shrouded, green-skinned witch. “It’s not even Halloween.”
    “Beautiful, isn’t she? You know how I love the Wizard of Oz. I saw her and had to have her. She’s carved from oak and hand painted.”
    “What will the neighbors think?” I scowled. The real question was, what would Bianca think? All I needed was for her to get the idea that I was making fun of her.
    “Mrs. Johnson came over and helped us carry her up the steps, and she had a fabulous idea. She said I should find carvings of the other characters and surround the house with them. She’s going to help me search the net. Although, I’m not sure displaying munchkins is politically correct…” Mom trailed off, lost in a yard fantasy that made pointy-hatted garden gnomes seem adorable.
    Boo bolted into the room. I scooped him up and he shook with delight. “So Dad is okay with this…witch arrangement?”
    “He’s the one who pointed her out. She was peeking from behind a tasteless array of lawn statuary. I would have never seen her if he hadn’t guided me over. Of course, it was love at first sight. The man we bought her from said he’d gotten her back in the sixties and kept her in a storage building. This is the first time she’s seen the light of day.”
    “Where is Dad, anyway?” I asked, hoping I could return him to his senses.
    “Upstairs checking email.”
    “Next time you decide to decorate the house, please remind yourself that your daughter doesn’t enjoy being humiliated in front of the whole town. You should have passed on the green, larger-than-life Wicked Witch of the West porch ornament.”
    Mom chuckled. “I think you’ll grow to like her. You have to admit, she’s charming.” Her eyes actually sparkled over the hunk of wood.
    “Not in a million years. Goodnight, Mom.” I pecked her cheek then hoisted my bag over my shoulder.
    “Goodnight? But it’s still early. Don’t forget your lamps.”
    “Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth. Tucking Boo into the crook of my arm, I took a watermelon wedge in each hand and climbed the stairs, green cords whipping my shins.
    I tapped on Dad’s office.
    “Come in.”
    I poked my head inside.
    He stood and stretched. “Those lamps are really something.”
    “Yeah. Something.”
    “And how do you like Ms. Wicked?”
    “I hope she gets termites.”
    He chuckled.
    “Why did you let her buy that