He rushed over and pushed her back into the bathroom. “What do you need me to do?”
She laughed at how quickly he was moving now. “I don’t know exactly how to do this. We’ll have to wing it.”
“You didn’t pee earlier?”
“No, I held it, which is why I really have to pee now. Aren’t you the one who said I had a thimble-sized bladder?”
“Well, yeah . . .”
She turned to face him, her back to a stall door. “I’ll back up and lift the skirt in the back with one hand and you hold it up in the front.”
“Aren’t you worried I’ll see something down there?”
She snorted. “It’s highly unlikely, given the fact you’ll have about ten yards of crinoline in your face.”
“Why are you only using one hand to hold up the skirt?”
“So I can pull down my panties. What’s with all the questions? My bladder sphincter’s about to give out.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s disgusting.”
“Hey, it’s biology. Let’s do this.” She backed up, pushing the door open as she reached around her back. “Why aren’t you lifting?”
He looked startled as he followed her into the stall. “I didn’t know we were lifting yet.”
“Well, we are! Do it!”
He grabbed handfuls and started tugging upward. “Why are you still standing?”
“I can’t see the damn toilet beneath all of this crinoline. And I’m having trouble reaching my underwear.”
She could barely make out his expression from all the fabric in her face, but a sly grin lit up his eyes. “Lucky for you, I’m an expert at removing women’s panties. I volunteer as tribute.”
“You have your job, and I have mine.”
He shrugged playfully. “Just sayin’.”
Libby reached under her skirt and got her panties to her knees, but she felt unbalanced as she started to lower herself to the seat. “I’m afraid I’m going to miss.”
“You think you’re going to pee on my foot?” he asked in horror.
“No! I’m afraid I’m not going to land on the toilet. What if I miss the seat?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. This stall is barely wide enough to hold the toilet. How could you miss it?”
She put one forearm on the side of the stall and inched herself down.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. Now that she was in a crouched position, she could no longer see his face.
“I told you. I’m trying to find the damn toilet.”
“Would you hurry already? Someone’s going to walk in here and think I’m some pervert molesting a bride.”
“And this bothers you . . . ?” Her voice trailed off suggestively as she connected with the toilet seat. “Mission accomplished.”
“You’ve peed already?”
“No. I’m on the toilet seat.”
“You haven’t even started peeing?” His voice rose in dismay.
“I’m working on it.”
Libby heard the bathroom door hinges squeak open, then Noah’s voice. “Oh, hello. Don’t mind me.”
The door slapped shut in an instant.
Libby released a chuckle.
Noah chuckled. “I think we traumatized that poor woman. Are you finished?”
“No. I haven’t even started yet.”
“Why the hell not?”
“You’re listening! I can’t pee knowing you’re going to hear it.”
“What the hell do you want me to do? Cover my ears? I can’t exactly do that without letting go of your dress!”
“Then hum. Or sing.”
“What do you expect me to sing?” he asked in disbelief.
“I don’t know!” she groaned. “How about ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall?”
“If I sing the damn song will you pee already?”
“Yes. Do it. This is getting painful.”
He groaned, but then began to sing. “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer.”
Libby felt herself relax and began to pee.
“Take one down, pass it around—” He stopped singing. “Oh, my God. I think you’ve ruined beer for me forever.”
“You’re listening to me pee?” she shrieked.
The door opened again, and this time Noah oozed in a pseudo-cultured voice, “Good evening. I’m the Golden Cowboy Café bathroom attendant, and I’ll be happy to help you with your personal hygiene needs as soon as I’m done with the current customer.”
There was a several-second pause, the sound of the swooshing door, and then Noah said, “That’s the second woman who has run off in horror. If I get arrested, you better bail me out.”
“Unfortunately for you, I don’t have any money . . . or toilet paper.” She felt along the wall of the stall. “I think this stall is out, but my dress is hiding the dispenser anyway.”
“What do you want me to do about it? I’m holding up the front end.”
“Do you want me to drip dry?” she asked, annoyed.
“That’s what I do!” he protested.
“Newsflash, Noah. I can’t just give it a tiny shake and be done with it. That’s not how the female anatomy works.”
“I’m very familiar with the female anatomy.” The door hinges squeaked again. “Oh, hello, ma’am. That’s not as bad as it sounds, but while you’re here, could I ask a small favor? Would you mind reaching into that stall and grabbing us some toilet paper? The bride can’t find hers.”