Page 71 of I Can't Even

We were at the annual Gull’s Harbor art show, standing in front of an artist’s booth. This particular artist, Sadie Gentle-Wing according to the sign, worked in ceramics and seemed pretty obsessed with big, we’re talking huge, ovals in vibrant shades of pink, red and purple, which she displayed upright on enormous wooden stands.

Personally, I was not really focused on the art, because my man was holding my hand. Liam was holding my hand, yo! We were in public in our hometown at an art show and I was with him. We were together, a couple, the real deal. I was so giddy I was bouncing on my toes.

“It looks like a big sphincter to me,” Harry chimed in from behind us.

“Shh,” Soph hushed him, frantically searching for the artist, who was, yeah, standing right there.

Sadie was all decked out in flowing purple scarves and a bohemian blouse over a red broomstick skirt. She smelled faintly of sage and lavender and her long gray curls had streaks of purple and red in them.

“So close, young man.” Sadie clasped her hands together. “Actually, it’s a physical representation of the core of the female form, you know, the cradle of all human life, the vagina.”

I felt Liam’s fingers tighten around mine and when I glanced at him, his lips were pressed together as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. A snort came out of his nose, which he tried to turn into a sneeze. Yeah, he fooled no one.

“Come here, young man, and you can stroke it,” Sadie said.

The artist grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him forward. He gave his mother a horrified look but was too polite to put up any resistance. Soph opened her mouth to speak, probably to try and stop the humiliation of her teenage son, but Hannah and Em were not about to let that happen.

“Oh, yes, just like that,” Hannah purred. “Stroke it.”

“Better yet, use some tongue,” Em said.

Soph gave her a shocked look and Em shrugged. Our baby sis took a selfie of herself inside one of the va-jay-jays, with her tongue out. Very risqué. Which I was certain would be on her social media account in five, four—my phone chimed. Yep, there it was, and I had no doubt it was about to break the internet.

Now that we knew Em was working through her grief in such a public fashion, we had all signed on as followers to her account, figuring we could track her and hopefully jump in to help her should it be required.

“Save me.” Harry mouthed the words at me. His eyes were wide, and he tried to hide behind his choppy blond hair to no avail. He was the picture of discomfort as Sadie guided his hand up and down inside the large ceramic oval.

“On it,” I mouthed back. I stepped close to get the artist’s attention. “Sadie, tell me, is your work limited to the female form or do you also render the male sexual organ as well?”

Liam was standing behind me and when I said, male sexual organ, I heard him snort-sneeze again. Harry gave me a you’re my hero look and disengaged his hand from Sadie’s and knees-to-chested it from the booth where he hid behind Soph. I couldn’t blame him.

Sadie was talking about the plethora of examples of the male form in our society which was why she focused on the female. Liam remained behind me, looking as if he was listening. He was not. Instead, he was pressed up against me, whispering wicked things in my ear whenever Sadie turned to gesture at one of her sculptures.

My heart was hammering hard in my chest and my eyes were becoming unfocused as desire began to heat up my insides when I felt Liam’s lips so close to my ear.

“This is fascinating,” I interrupted Sadie. So rude! Meanwhile I started to back into Liam, forcing him to walk backwards or risk being trampled by me. “But we have to go.”

“We do?” Liam asked. I could hear the laugh tucked into his voice and was determined to make him pay for that.

“Yeah, I think I left the stove on.” I gave him a wide-eyed stare to get him to go along with me.

“Oh, the stove,” he said. “Right.”

With that, I spun around and pushed Liam away from Sadie’s booth. I didn’t bother to look at my family but yelled over my shoulder, “Don’t wait, we’ll catch up.”

I dragged him past several more artist booths until I found a footpath that led into a small community garden. Lots of trees, shrubs, benches, and trellises. Perfect!

As soon as we found a secluded corner, I jumped him. Anticipating my move, Liam caught me close and in moments we were making out with all the enthusiasm of two high school kids before the late bell.

I dug my fingers into his thick, soft hair while he pulled me up against him with his hands on my lower back locking me into place while his mouth met mine. The sounds of people chatting and laughing blended in with the scent of flowers in bloom on this warm sunny day, creating a happy background for the groping that was happening in this secluded little park.

“Having a good time?” Liam asked as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine.

“The best,” I said.

I couldn’t remember when I’d been this purely, simply happy. My feelings when I was with Liam buffered the sadness and confusion that had seemed to fill me to bursting in the aftermath of Babs’s death. I knew my grief was a combination of losing my mother and losing my sense of identity all in one blow but having Liam in my arms, well, it made up for a lot.

“We should probably get back before I take advantage of you right here,” he said.

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