Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(45)

“That’s a word you just don’t hear enough,” Mom said, and Colleen felt a rush of affection for old Momster. She had her moments.

“Everyone should feel free to tap into their inner gods and goddesses,” Debbie continued, “and set free their muses and let their chakras flow! There is no right or wrong here, just Art! With a capital A! And of course, our fellow single people! Let loose your true selves, people!”

The students glanced nervously around; Colleen was quite interested to see what the true selves would be like. The Hulk? Wolverine (please, God)? Voldemort? Nope, everyone seemed like their regular selves. Ah, well.

Except for Orange Tooth, Droog the Vampire and a man so old Colleen wasn’t quite sure he was alive, everyone here was female. The usual, Colleen knew.

And that was the thing. All the women here were attractive enough. Clean, at any rate. They’d made an effort. Granted, the Thneed choked off much of Paulie’s appeal, but still. She was trying. The point was, normal, honest, decent women with good hygiene were always willing to go to these types of events, whereas the normal, honest, decent men seemed to be anywhere but.

“So let’s get started by going around the circle and telling everyone why you’re here and what you’re looking for in a relationship. Bert? Get us started, won’t you?”

Bert, the elderly man, was fast asleep in his wheelchair, drooling. Colleen grabbed a paper towel for when he woke up.

“Okay, then, Colleen, why don’t you get us going?”

“Sure,” Colleen said. “I’m Colleen, perpetual flirt, here with my mom to find me a stepfather.”

“And are you looking for love?” Debbie asked.

“Can’t say that I am, Deb.”

“Her first boyfriend just came back to town,” Mom offered. “He broke up with her years ago, and she’s still not over him. She wants to find someone. A beard. Is that the right term?”

See? Just when she was feeling warm thoughts about Mom, this happened. “Wow, thanks, Mom. I’d deny that, but I’m reeling from the fact that you’re so willing to blurt out my personal—”

“And you, Jeanette?” Debbie asked.

“Colleen made me come.” Mom looked around at the others in the circle. “My husband left me for a whore.”

“Same here,” said a woman who had to be eighty if she was a day and was eyeing Drooling Beauty. “An actual prostitute. He said if the dwarf on Game of Thrones could do it, then so could he.”

“I see. And you, Paulie?” Debbie said, completely unfazed.

“I, uh...well, there’s a certain someone who... He... I wouldn’t...” Her face blossomed into the fascinating mottled purple. Mom started shirt-flapping in sympathy. “It’s a case of, um, unrequited love.”

“Unrequited at the moment, that is,” Colleen said, giving Paulie a smile.

“Young luff!” chortled Droog. “How wonderful! Eh heh heh heh heh!”

“I... Is my turn over?” Paulie asked.

“It is if you want it to be,” Deb said.

“Then it’s over.” Paulie wiped her forehead with the tail of the Thneed.

The rest of the class took their turns, saying more or less the same thing—“I’d like to meet a nice person for a special friendship, possibly more.” So Match.com.

“Okay! Let’s get started,” said Debbie. “Stanley? Come on in.” A man came in, barefoot and wearing a pink terry-cloth bathrobe. “Stanley’s our model today, people. Make yourself comfortable, Stan.”

Stan stood in the center of the circle, turned so his back was to Mom and Colleen, and let the bathrobe drop to the floor.

Colleen and Mom recoiled in unison.

She hadn’t known it was possible for a man to be so...so...hairy.

And so naked.

And so, so hairy.

As in, pelt. As in, he could donate his back hair to Locks of Love.

“I think I found my stepfather,” she whispered.

“You are not funny, young lady. I’m telling Connor about this.”

“It may kill him.” Colleen hunched behind her easel, torn between the urge to pee in terror and hilarity. “Okay, time to make art,” she whispered to her mother. “Take a good hard look, Mom.”

“I can’t. I’ve been struck blind.”

“In my country,” Droog said, his tone conversational, “back hair is sign of virility.”

“Then, Stan, you must have twenty children,” Mom answered drily.

Coll glanced over to Paulie, who was giving off light, she was so red in the face. She was on the other side of the circle. The front side, God bless her, which meant she had to see the...parts...of Stan, Stan the Hairy Man. Lorelei sat next to her, chatting away, drawing without a care in the world.

Stan struck a pose, sort of a Mercury pointing to the heavens, and Colleen had to pretend to check her phone to hide her laughter.

“Colleen?” Debbie asked, leaning over her easel. “You haven’t even started yet. Is there a problem?”

“Nothing that a week of waxing won’t solve,” she managed.

“Okay, that’s rude,” Debbie said. “Bodies are all beautiful, all miracles of a higher power, all representative—”