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I threw up in my mouth a little.
I held the back of my head. "Did you teach my mom how to paint a vagina?"
Faith held up her paint speckled hands. "To be fair, it started off as a flower."
"And it just ended up as genitals?"
Faith winced. "Oops."
"I improvised." My mom cackled which segued into a yawn. She looked down at her watch. "It's past my bedtime. I should get going." She walked up and gave me a hug and I bent down so she could kiss my cheek. "Good night, Seb."
Then she enveloped Faith in a hug.
"Good night, Faith. Thanks for today, I had so much fun."
Faith's eyebrows danced. "Shall I pencil you in for another lesson?"
"I think I'll try my hand at miniature golf after all."
Faith hip checked mom. "Am I not a good enough teacher for you?"
"I had fun, but I don't think painting is for me. I'll leave it to the professionals." She winked at Faith.
"Do we need to have a talk about this?" I pointed toward the canvases.
My mom just laughed at me and turned to Faith. "See what I mean about him being s-e-r-i-o-u-s."
"I can spell," I reminded Mom, pinching the bridge of my nose.
She hugged me again. "I know, sweetie. Let loose a little, you work too hard."
"Let me walk you home."
She extricated herself. "I can find my own way. But just in case, I'll bring Willow with me."
My dog perked up.
"Come on, Willow," my mom called, patting the top of her thigh. My dog immediately followed.
"Hey," I said. "She has no loyalty."
My mom smirked as she left the room, and I was suddenly very aware that I was alone with Faith.
The wine stained her lips red, and I thought I saw her cheeks flush.
Faith turned on her heel and started putting her tools away. "I should probably wash these brushes; otherwise, I'll regret it in the morning."
There was a small sink in the corner of the room where she set out to do her task, hands moving quickly.
"Can I help?"
Faith glanced at me from underneath her eyelashes then nodded at the bottle. "You can pour yourself a glass."
I lifted the bottle and read the label. It was one of my favorites from Lodi. "Good choice," I commented, pouring myself a glass, and refilling the one next to Faith's easel.
"I can't believe you taught my mom to paint a vagina," I said, breaking the silence. I'm sure it would be a hilarious story to tell in about a dozen years but at the moment I could only be a little grossed out.
She set the paint brushes on a paper towel. "Again, it didn't start as a vagina. It just sort of evolved, and I went with it. It's just a body part. Half the population has one. And I think it's beautiful. A beautiful flower of its own."
