I've come here to sell you my bodyAfter several hours of walking the halls, terrorizing gift-shop volunteers and staring into bottomless cups of coffee Ben sits back in his chair and stretches, clearly restless. I am reading and loathe to put the book down so I sling my bag toward him and he catches it in his hands, plunking it into his lap and pulling open the zipper. Finally, something to do, he says.
I can show you some good merchandise
I'll pull you and I'll pill you
I'll Cruella De Vil you
And to thrill you I'll use any device
We'll give you crazy performance
We'll give you grounds for divorce
We'll give you piece de resistance
And a tour de force
Of course
I'm never exactly sure why he doesn't play games on his phone or something but Ben travels very light and is weirdly terrified of becoming attached to his phone. This is the longest he's ever had the same one, all previous ones would be stolen/left or misplaced in hotels worldwide. He's not good at keeping things secure. Maybe it's better that he remain ambivalent about the phone after all.
He digs through until he finds the first bit of lip makeup. He unscrews the top and sticks the end in his mouth. He frowns and opens his mouth wide, blotting the end of it on his tongue. LALALALALA he says. Yuck. What the hell is this, Bridget?
Lip stain, I tell him, deadpan. I'm trying not to laugh. It's supposed to be a serious day. Lochlan's getting the first of the last casts. We have given the power tools to Sam until Lochlan is healed so that he won't get out of it at the first sign of discomfort. I am holding my breath that this works or he is facing surgery and a lifetime of never throwing fire or pulling me out of the ocean with one arm ever again.
Why is it different? He is painting his tongue with it. He reaches out and grabs my arm and uses the lip stain to draw a heart on my upper arm with an arrow through it. He writes MOM in the centre and then draws another arrow pointing toward my face. I am frowning too now.
Don't waste it, it costs twenty dollars.
I'll buy all of them for you, then. Only it's gross. Tastes like a marker. He tries a second one. Same face. LALALALALALALA he sings again as he taps it on his tongue.
Exactly.
Why did you buy that instead of all the fruity yummy greasy deliciousness?
I got tired of the wind sticking my hair to my lips.
Was it the wind or just a good hard-
It was the wind. I don't wear lipgloss at night.
Maybe you should start. He wagged his tongue at me. It's striped red and pink now. I finally allow myself some out-loud laughter and resolve to wear the sticky stuff, even if it sticks to everything.
I start to tell him that, but he has moved on and is now taste-testing an orange mini-sharpie.
I didn't even know that was there. Should have used it on my lips.
Or maybe on his.