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Getting away with a mortifying mishap? So far so good.
Finishing up, I was past the point of caring anymore. Frannie and I made our way to the sinks. We shared one since the rest were all being used.
“Lucy?” Frannie quizzed in her innocently sweet voice.
“Hmmm?”
“Did you hit my forehead with the thing you pulled from your butt?”
Airports are generally filled with a cacophony of sounds. White noise. Conversations. Overhead announcements. Phone calls. Streamed movies on laptops or phones. The women’s restrooms were always a bustle of noises.
Until now. Each woman who had been washing their hands, now looked at me through our reflections in the mirror. Some were horrified, putting two and two together while others were trying not to laugh.So much for women sticking together.
I caught a glimpse of myself briefly in the mirror. Fire crept up my face rapidly, the deep crimson matching the very thing that had caused the mortification in the first place.
Frannie was unperturbed, happily singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star until her hands had been sufficiently cleaned and rinsed.
There was nothing I could say in that moment to change anything. I wasn’t about to explain myself, nor did I owe it to anyone.
No. I swallowed the infinitesimal amount of dignity I had left, and ignored the snickering I heard as we left the restroom.
“Oh, look! There’s your mom,” I happily pointed out. Beth had her suitcase and was standing off to the side.
“There you are, honey,” she exclaimed.
“Lucy took me potty,” Frannie announced.
I was afraid we were going to have a replay of the sink conversation, so I hugged them both, saying how it was nice to see them.
And, like a coward, I left. But not before hitting a Hudson News for a snack. Turns out that embarrassing situations make you famished.Who’d have thunk?
The heat in my cheeks was receding, pooling around my throat as I perused the bags of chips, cookies, nuts, and energy bars.
Hanging from the ceiling, a television set was playing in the corner. Ordinarily I’d have paid it no mind, but when I saw Jake, Lauren and Liam on what appeared to be a morning show, I stood and watched.
Apparently, the host had better luck with caffeine because she was upbeat as a cheerleader who had just been crowned homecoming queen. She was asking questions about the upcoming movie, making small talk with them and then asked Rodney about playing the villain.
I’d seen him around but never knew who he played in the movie.
Then, the conversation turned to Lauren and how difficult it must’ve been to star opposite someone as good-looking as Jake.
“Girl, your job is gravy if you get to kiss that man for a living.” My attention was pulled from the screen and I turned to find the cashier watching the show just as intently, talking as if Lauren could hear her sentiment.
I smiled at the woman and she shrugged in a universal show ofcan you blame me? No, I couldn’t blame her. I knew what Jake’s lips felt like on mine. I knew what it felt like to be pressed against his body as he cradled my face. I knew what hetastedlike.
“Oh shiiiit,” hissed the cashier. My thoughts had once again taken over so I hadn’t caught the entirety of what the host asked. But what I did catch didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Jake had been spotted with a ‘mystery woman’ and though I was viewing him on a screen, I could see a sudden tenseness in his jaw. It was barely perceptible under the beard he was growing, but I noticed.
I waited on pins and needles to see how he was going to answer the host that had morphed from a Kelly Clarkson level of cheery to a tacky Wendy Williams.
“Well, that would be the thing now wouldn’t it, Whitney…” Jake put forth, “this ‘mystery woman’ as you put it must be damn good at what she does. She’s so mysterious that even I don’t know who she is.”
Whitney, or whatever her name was, obviously got the hint and moved on. But I hadn’t.
Paying for my snacks, the cashier continued with her own personal commentary and opinions on the matter.
“Whoever she is, I hope she’s gettin’ some. Take one for the team. Let us live vicariously through her, know what I’m sayin’?” she jabbered to no one in particular. She took my money and concluded her rant with, “I wouldn’t even care if my life suddenly was thrust in the public spotlight. I’d imagine the risk would be worth the reward, right?” This time she asked me directly, probably because the newsstand was now empty of people.
