Page 119 of You've Got Hate Mail
Again.
I turn away from Mabel. “I’m getting back to work.”
“Sure. You want lunch today? Dori can run it over.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“No problem. Oh, and for your awareness—the entire household knows about where you woke up this morning. Aunt Pip couldn’t keep that to herself.”
I suck in a large breath through my nose and let it out in the slowest sigh I have ever sighed in my life.
I need to get back to work.
To fix this place for Caro and Mike, the bride and groom who are paying an ungodly sum of money to have a private wedding here, and then for Cricket to move back into after they’re gone.
But I suddenly don’t want to.
I want?—
Fuck.
I drop my water bottle and push myself to my feet.
Ineedto take advantage of this hour or so without Lav to think.
Process.
Work through what I’m feeling.
So that I can get back on top of my life.
However I need to do that.
21
MY BIG FAT HAIRY BEAVER
Cricket
I don’t knowif I’ve ever been as angry as I am right now.
I’m sure I’ve wanted to be, but I’ve never let myself feel it.
So here?
Down in the cellar with the barrels of wine that have been aging since Pip’s husband died?
With all of my clothes off and my phone aimed at my vagina?
Yeah.
Yeah, I’m angry.
But I’m also weirdly… free?
Uninhibited and snarky and furious andfree.
“So this is what you all want,” I say as I bend over and record the thick hairy mess that I’ve let grow wild while I’ve been here. I spread my legs wider and get the camera right up in there, showing off my labia too. “You want to see the Cheeky Beaver’s beaver. Well. This one’s the one and only. The original.”
