So what if I teach a class where we take turns creating things with art supplies regarding a specific feeling…at night, so the camp can stay open, and I can bring in extra income, and use all the supplies we already have?
Genius.
Just like she said.
“People are gonna eat this up!” she adds, squeezing my arm and smiling.
“I hope so. I kinda need this to work. Thank you for coming with me to pass these around. I didn’t want to ask my sisters or Dom in case it doesn’t work out, you know?”
She watches me through narrowed eyes. “Why wouldn’t it? It’s genius.”
I staple the first flyer to a pole, trying to ignore her and my feelings towards the whole situation, but if I’m trying to be honest and lead this class through that lens, I should be honest with her too. “I’ve made such a mess of things, and this is me trying to fix it, but it’s better if I give it a try before I loop them in.”
She nods. “Makes sense, but also, trust yourself. This is a great idea; our town needs something like this.”
“I hope so. I posted on socials too, so let’s get this done and see how it goes.”
We spend the next few hours driving around town and dropping flyers in different stores as well as in neighborhoods. We laugh and we cry as we catch up on life. By the time I get back to the cabin and check my email, both my inbox and heart are full. About a dozen emails requesting information for the first session, which is Friday night, and a few others asking for kids sessions too. This could really work, but until I know for sure, I’d rather keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.
The class was fully packed.I decided to start with the younger kids and then move on to the teens. Two back-to-back, completely full groups, and I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be. I was thriving. I caught him watching me, and, for a moment, I wished he’d recorded it just so I could have proof of the magic starting to ensue here.
After the last student leaves, I close the door and slide down to the floor, a smile fixed on my face—a deep, genuine kind of joy I haven’t felt in a long time.
“That was amazing!” I exclaim, closing my eyes and just breathing in the silence of the empty room.
“It was,” he says. I pat the floor next to me, and Dom joins. I lean back, resting my head on his lap, looking up at him.
“It was so much fun. I can’t believe I did that. I wonder how many more things are out there I haven’t tried that would make me happy like this, you know? Things where I can use my degree, my love for art, my body.”
As I speak, I notice a change in his eyes. I don’t know what it is. Maybe the fact that I said how many things are out there?
I want him to see this side of me too, not just the girl who belongs to the world, who can’t be tied down by a house or a career. Or, at least, that's how everyone else sees me, and I don’t want him to fall into the same group.
I want him to see the capable side of me, especially since nobody has ever made me feel this way before. I want to be enough for me and for him. I want him to want me for the whole package.
“Do you want to go out and celebrate?” he asks, freeing me from my thoughts.
There’s a weight behind the question. Is he testing the boundaries of the just having fun arrangement we’d made?
I can see the desire in him, but I want it to be more than that. I want him to want to take me out and make a night of it, to show me off, but I also don’t want him to put his armor back on.
I sit up, a playful smile spreading across my face. I move closer, shifting to face him directly, and take his face in my hands.I don’t want to move too fast, and while I would love to tell him to do as he pleases, I need to take this slow and not jump headfirst as I always do.
“Actually,” I whisper, leaning in close until our breaths mingle, “I thought of a better way to celebrate.”
I watch the way he looks at me, part captivated and part wary of the trouble I might be. “And what is that?” he asks.
“What if I ride that mustache of yours until I come on your tongue, and then you fuck me into oblivion?”
34SPACE BETWEEN US
Dom
“Ain'tyou a sight for sore eyes,” Arnie says, trudging my way as I enter Lilly’s office. It’s impossible not to smile when I see him, and it’s been too damn long.
He welcomes me with a side hug, the same gesture he made when I first applied for the job, as if he couldn’t keep himself from wrapping his arms around me.
Other than my parents and my brother’s best friend—Aspen— I don’t hug.
