“Yeah, she’s about to tinkle all over me if I don’t get her into a stall and help her with her dress. Please don’t call the copsonme.”
Jumping into action, the women pushed open the handicapped stall and directed him in. My dress barely cleared theentrance.
“What can we do for you, honey?” one woman asked. Not to me, mind you, but to Jake. I had become invisible in thisscenario.
“Make sure you get all the tulle under the dress,” the other addedhelpfully.
“I will,” he said, setting me on my feet and closing thestalldoor.
“If you need anything, hon, we’ll be rightouthere.”
I rolled my eyes and Jake held back a laugh as he helped me lift my strapless, A-line sweetheart wedding dress up around my waist and held the layers of fabric out of the way. I barely made it over the seat before I was relievingmyself.
Interestingly enough, I’d never noticed how loud urine could be until I was listening to mine cascade into the bowl below me while my brand-new husband was hovering above me, pretending not to hear. As my cheeks blushed in embarrassment, my mouth went intooverdrive.
“I don’t know if I ever told you this,” I began in a conversational tone, “but my college boyfriend once recorded himself peeing for a full minute fifty-eightseconds.”
“No, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned that before,” Jake said, his voice monotone, not seeming the least bitimpressed.
“I mean, maybe it doesn’tsoundamazing, but I’m telling you, that video went on and on. I was able to totally dry my hair in the time it took for him to empty his bladder. How do you guys hold somuchpee?”
“Casey,” Jake interrupted. “I don’t mean to rush you along, but I’m in a girls’ bathroom with my hands up your dress. Can we talk about your ex-boyfriend someothertime?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m almost done, actually. I was just making small talk to ease theawkwardness.”
“Uh-huh, because it’s not at all awkward for you to be fondly remembering another guy on our weddingnight.”
“I’m not remembering him, per se… just his netherregions.”
The ladies on the other side of the stall began to giggle something fierce. Shit. I’d forgotten they werethere.
“I was just kidding,” I called out to them. “I never think about any other guy’s privates.” Oh, no. That came out allwrong,too.
“Casey.” Jake abruptly stopped me from any more unnecessary babbling. “You’re done. No morechatter.”
“Right. Sorry.” I finished the clean-up and flushed. Jake’s face came into view as the layers of my dress began to fall down around me. Thankfully, he appeared ratheramused.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” he said, shakinghishead.
“If that was meant as a compliment, thenthankyou.”
“Are we done here, or do you have any further interesting facts about past hookups you’d like to sharewithme?”
“No. None as interesting asthelast.”
“Thank god. Hey, what happened to the other dress you were planning to wear for the reception?” he asked, pushing open the stall. “That would have come in handytonight.”
The women had pressed themselves against the wall as they awaited Jake’s exit. He flashed them his megawatt rock star smile, and I thought both might slide to the floor in a puddleofglee.
I stared at him in the mirror as I washed my hands. “I changed my mind at the last minute. I figured, when will I ever wear a more beautiful gown, or look as pretty as I dotonight?”
“You don’t need a fancy dress. You always look beautifultome.”
It was a lovely sentiment ruined by the sharp intake of air from one of the women, followed by a chorus of contented sighs. We exchanged a knowing glance in the mirror. They were going to need tending to before we could leave. Jake nodded at me before wedging himself into the middle of his restroom groupies and smiling for aselfie.
The security guys were waiting for us when we stepped out; and so, unfortunately, were the paparazzi. They were quick to snap shots of Jake and the three of us women with a clear view of the women’s bathroom sign in thebackground.
“That’s not what it looks like,” he said gamely to the photographers before addressing his own staff. “What’s the limosituation?”
