Page 93 of You're so Bad

She threw her head back and laughed. “Of course I haven’t. I’ll resent that old boot until he’s six feet under, and I’ll throw vinegar on his grave. But there’s no reason for you to resent him for my sake. Iamhappier. Bad things happen to everyone, honey, and even if it hurts so much you can’t breathe, you can come out the other side and find unicorns shitting rainbows. It’s okay to still hurt. And it’s okay to enjoy the view.”

I had to smile, because Nana really has a way with words when she’s worked up. “Unicorns shitting rainbows, huh?”

“If you make a piece like that, I want it dedicated to me.”

“You got it.”

I sketched out a design for a unicorn-shitting-rainbows-mug when I got to The Waiting Place this morning, before I jumped back in with Snake Lady. I haven’t put her in the kiln yet, but I look forward to baking her.

“Anyway,” I tell Rafe, “I didn’t bring you back here because I need an intervention. I had an idea. You think Sinclair would want to hold a big Halloween event at the end of October? Maybe we can get each of the artists to come up with spooky shit to sell, and we could hold special classes for making something…”

“Terrifying?”

“Halloweeny.”

He glances at the Bianca snake monster, frowning, then concedes my victory with a nod.

“It’s a good idea. Areallygood idea.”

I grin, running with it, because Halloween’s always been my favorite holiday. There’s something heady about pretending to be someone else, letting your base impulses roll out. Courting fear for the fun of it.

I’ll bet Leonard likes it too.

I put a pillow over the thought’s mouth and asphyxiate it.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much ofThe Sopranos.

I clear my throat and wave a hand to the curtain separating my workshop from the front room. “We could have a reception in the floorspace in the atrium with bobbing for apples—”

“Hard pass.” He crosses his muscle-man arms. “I’m not sticking my face in other people’s spit water.”

I roll my eyes. “So don’t do it. But I reluctantly admit you might have a point. We don’t want to spread the plague. How about…” I snap my fingers. “A caramel apple decorating station. You can lead it since you’re the painter.”

“Yes,” he says dryly. “So much skill goes into creating a caramel apple.”

“I knew you’d see things my way.”

“So what are you going to teach them?” He takes a good long gander at my ugly babies. “How to terrify their visitors with snake statues?”

“Nah, I was thinking I’d go simple—have them coil clay into a snake bowl or something like that.”

He leans in closer to study Bianca’s face, then turns toward me with a raised brow. “Is this a wedding present?”

I hadn’t planned on it, but I start laughing, because it’s perfect. I’ll have to make some sort of Colter statue too. Maybe a troll with a bent back and a nose the size of an heirloom tomato. His and hers monsters.

I tell Rafe, and he starts laughing right along with me.

“Give him a big forehead,” he says through his laughter. “He’s always had a punchable forehead.”

“And a receding hairline,” I add, tears coursing down my cheeks. About a year ago, Colter got a bug in his bread about having a receding hairline. He kept doing mirror checks and even took photographs every morning so he could compare them.

“You should put them in a really pretty box when you’re finished,” Rafe says. “Becca in The Paper Place is a master wrapper.”

“That’s a thing?” I ask, laughing harder.

“I didn’t think so,” he says, wiping his eyes, “but then I saw what she can do. I shit you not, she’s a miracle worker. A bit too nice, though. Every time I talk to her, I get dragged in for twenty minutes, but she can wrap one hell of a gift.”

“Oh, it’s on. And if they call me up and ask why I made my monsters look like them, I’m going to gaslight them into thinking it’s all in their heads.”

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