Page 14 of My Wife
The plan was not to be a wedding day reject. Rather, I wanted to make it on my own.
No sooner do I turn onto Main Street, than I need to use the ladies’ room. Actually, it’s more of an emergency and I can hardly appreciate how the pale pastel sky paints Cobbiton with watercolor brush strokes. I’ve always loved the early morning before most people are awake—these days I see it more than is healthy, being up most of the night since normal sleep habits are a rarity.
Just like everyone in this quirky town, the main street, intersecting 4th, has its own unique character. We have Once Upon a Romance, a bookstore; Spaglietti’s which has the best meatballs; the Buy & Bargain, my favorite thrift store ever; and what looks like a new hair salon.
Unless you’re Mrs. Gormely, the town gossip, the friendly chatter of the townsfolk fills the air, except right now. Only the bakery is open on this cold winter morning. Fresh bread, pastries, and pies hide behind its steamy window.
I never let myself get too comfortable anywhere because I inevitably have to leave. However, I have nowhere left to go. Cobbiton is my safety net and unfortunately, it has holes in it.
I park on the street and hoist my wedding gown a few inches so it doesn’t drag on the frozen ground.
Inside the Busy Bee Bakery, the sign on the bathroom door says,For Paying Customers Only. I’ve been running on caffeine and fumes, so I may as well get another coffee and maybe at least a couple of Nina’s famous Danish kringle pastries with honey and pecans—I’ll surprise Grandma Dolly with an assortment of baked goods.
The buttery scent and the coffee-infused air give me a second wind. Or perhaps I’m on my third … or fourth wind? I’ve lost count.
It kind of feels good to be home. Yet, I’m not ready to face the public if I run into anyone who asks why I’m wearing a wedding gown and makeup that’s over twenty-four hours old. I plaster on my ‘Everything is fine face,’ trying not to stand out too much, and get in line behind a tall man and a toddler.
Nina, who owns the bakery, is the friendliest person on the planet, but that also means she chats up all the customers, asking about their lives and the day ahead.
That’s all to say, the line tends to move slowly.
I have to pee so badly I can feel it in my eyeballs. Short of leaping over the counter and retrieving the key—which might prove difficult in this gown, never mind the fact that I couldn’t clear a hurdle on a good day—jumping the line is the only thing that will keep me from having an accident.
Desperate, I tap the man ahead of me on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me.”
He doesn’t turn, keeping his massive back toward me. Shoulder to shoulder, he’s practically a yard wide, built of solid muscle that tapers to a trim waist and a very firm, um, backside. I can’t help but notice since I’m practically eye level with it.
I’m short. He’s tall, so perhaps he didn’t hear me all the way up there. Also, his son is antsy, so he’s probably trying to keep him occupied.
Always look on the bright side!
Clearing my throat again, I say, “Pardon me, sir, I’m just wondering if?—”
His head snaps in my direction.
I shrink back from the imposing big cat.
He has a scar on his lip, wears a snarl, and all but bares his teeth.
I shiver and not only because I really, really have to pee.
He slowly looks me up and down with what can only be described as a joy-starved gaze.
“Hi. Um, if it’s okay I’d like to please scoot ahead of you to ask Nina for the bathroom key and then come back and grab some things. But you can order while I’m gone. I mean, as planned since you’re in line waiting too.” I realize I’m rambling, but the flow of words won’t stop like I’m negotiating a hostage situation and know if I go quiet, I’ll lose his attention and the robbery will continue.
I add, “It’s an emergency. I’m desperate.”
He grunts in reply. As he faces forward again, he mumbles to himself, “You and me both.”
The little boy with him has a serious case of the wiggles. If I wouldn’t look conspicuous and like a lunatic since I’m still wearing a wedding dress, I’d join him and do the potty dance.
He grips the child’s hand in his big one. There are still two people ahead of them, and the sweet little fussy fella sags as the man’s deep, rumbling voice echoes in my mind.
You and me both.
He has trim, dark blond hair but sports some stubble. His nails are clean, but he has calloused hands. The overall picture is that he’s tidy but has a certain kind of wildness that might solely be because of his size. Kind of like a domesticated wooly mammoth.
The snapshot I took of his face included a wide brow, stormy blue-gray eyes, a strong nose, and full lips.
