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“I don’t know. It’s first thing in the morning, so it’s probably freshly cleaned,” Lucy points out pragmatically.
“Maybe,” Mel replies doubtfully. “Even so, people pee in there…Can you ever fully eradicate the effects of that?”
“I for one don’t see a problem with kissing in a men’s bathroom,” Montgomery interjects, his eyes locking on Emily who blushes pink with pleasure. Guessing there’s a story there, but, of course, as the outsider of the group I don’t know it.
“Either way,” Stafford cuts in, “they’re not going to finish their kiss with the lot of us standing out here heckling them like a bunch of medieval family members trying to make sure they make the marriage official.”
Everybody looks Stafford’s way.
“What,” Anderson asks, “are you talking about?”
“Aww, babe,” Lucy croons, “you’ve been reading my romance books haven’t you?”
“What? No,” Stafford quickly denies it, but his red cheeks tell a different story. “Well maybe just the one,” he admits. “But in my defense it had a sword on the cover.”
“Yeah, that totally excuses it,” Montgomery says dryly.
“Romance books are for everyone,” Lucy tells the group, “because anyone can enjoy the magical serotonin boost provided by a happy ending.”
“Hear, hear,” Emily cheers, lifting a fake glass in the air, then nudging Montgomery to do the same. He does so without hesitation, adoring eyes on his wife.
“Especially ones with sword fights,” Stafford lifts his water bottle to join the pair of imaginary cups.
“I do like sword fights,” Anderson says with a shrug, adding his imaginary cup to the mix.
“You guys are ridiculous,” Mel says with a laugh, but she too lifts a pretend glass. Then they all look expectantly at me, so I step forward with my own glass, imagining it’s something fancy, like a champagne flute. It is my wedding day after all.
My fake wedding day, but still.
Every bride deserves a champagne toast.
“To romance novels and also to Reynolds and Nora,” Lucy intones her gaze flitting my way as she smiles broadly. Again her unconditional acceptance takes me aback and suddenly I’m fighting tears. Thankfully everyone’s answering round of cheers covers up my display of emotion and by the time we all step back from the circle I’ve recovered myself.
“My goodness,” Lucy comments, “whatever Reynolds is doing in there he sure is taking awhile.”
“We had bean burritos for breakfast,” I say quickly, then wince because who needs to hear about that?
“I thought you said you didn’t eat breakfast this morning,” Emily says with a frown.
Shoot. I did say that, didn’t I? I’ve lied so much this morning I can’t keep track of everything. And this is only the beginning. What happens when I’m sitting in police interrogation trying to keep my story straight?
“Right,” I amend hurriedly, “I didn’t eat breakfast. But Jack did. He offered me a burrito too, but I passed because, you know, what bride wants to be gassy on her wedding day?”
All three women wrinkle their noses and just like that I’ve managed to course correct and keep my story afloat. I sigh in relief.
“Okay, well maybe one of you should go into the bathroom and check on him,” Mel suggests to the men. “No bride wants to be gassy on her wedding day, and no groom wants to spend his wedding day glued to the toilet. Noah, will you go make sure he’s okay?”
Anderson is quick to agree, dropping a peck on Mel’s cheek before setting off. Of course, as it turns out, the bathroom is only a few feet away down the hall. Something I wished I’d realized before I said that’s where Jack went. Obviously if Anderson goes in there he won’t find Jack. And then what?
“Hey, are you guys coming?” Jack’s familiar deep voice travels down the hallway as he reappears from his dash to the car. I let out the breath I was holding.
I may be bumbling this whole thing up with my talk of beans and gas and whatnot, but Jack is here now. He’ll fix my mess.
“Reynolds, there you are,” Anderson says, backtracking away from the bathroom to fall into step with him. “Nora said you went to the bathroom.”
Jack’s eyes flit my way. “Uh, yeah, that’s what I told her, but really I ran ahead to finish the surprise I planned for her.”
A surprise for me? In spite of our current situation, I feel a spurt of excitement. Given how often my mom would show up randomly in my life, almost always waving her hands at her sides and trilling, “Surprise,” I’ve always had a pretty negative connotation with the word. At least until I met Jack and he showed me the fun part of surprises.
