Looking down at the table, Jake assessed his next move. He could easily end the game in four shots and head home. When the objective of the evening was not to find someone to share a couple hours with between the sheets, hanging out at the same bar five nights a week got a little old. But since the alternative was going back to his condo, turning on Sports Center, and being alone, he’d decided that playing pool with the added bonus of getting a peepshow was definitely the way to go.
Leaning over, he lined up his shot. Then, gripping the pool stick a little too high, he pulled back and hit the cue ball just to the left, banking the six off the side, not sinking it into the corner—a shot he could have made one handed!
Courtney giggled and jumped up and down, celebrating the fact that Jake had missed the shot. All four of Jake’s fellow firefighters nodded their heads in thanks. Chris, the station’s engine driver, even mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
After Courtney bounced enthusiastically—causing her lady-lumps to almost spill out of her shirt—she began circling the table, running her fingers along the felted sides, “looking” for her next shot. Really, she was just putting on a show. Obviously, she loved the attention, and who was Jake to judge.
*
Tessa’s nails dug into her palms as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her teeth were biting down on the inside of her cheek so hard she was scared she was going to draw blood. Breathing in shallow pants as she squeezed her thighs together, she tried desperately to concentrate on the small piece of the highway that was illuminated by her headlights. Her eyes were watering, causing her vision to blur, which made driving in these stormy conditions on mountain roads doubly—if not triply—dangerous.
Why? Why in the name of God and all that is holy did I decide to grab not one but two twenty-four-ounce Mega Monster energy drinks in Sacramento?
With a bladder the size of a peanut, she knew better. Sure, she’d almost fallen asleep several times on the long boring drive up the 5, but Tessa was quickly realizing that trying to hold in her bursting bladder while operating a moving vehicle—in the rain, at night!—was not proving that much safer than nodding off behind the wheel. Her wipers waved furiously back and forth in front of her as rain pounded down on her windshield. Tessa had never really given much credence to the idea that the sounds of water caused you to need to pee more. But after driving for the last hour in the rain with a full bladder, she was definitely signing off on that theory.
“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” Tessa repeated out loud to herself, trying to calm down. She talked to herself a lot. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was left over from moving around so much as a kid. The life of an Army brat was very nomadic. She’d been painfully shy as a kid, so making friends hadn’t been easy. Especially because each time she had known she would just have to do the same thing all over again in a year or so.
The trip down memory lane was not helping to keep her mind off the impending emergency she was facing. She really didn’t think she could hold it in much longer without potentially seriously damaging an organ or two. Just when she was either going to surrender to the panic that was rising up inside of her and break down crying hysterically or even pee her pants, she passed the wooden sign on the side of the highway that read:
Welcome to Hope Falls
Pop. 6,032
Yes! She was almost there. Thank God!
All she could think about was making it to Sue Ann’s Café, where she was staying for the night, jumping out of her car, and running to the restroom. She hadn’t been back to Hope Falls in close to thirteen years, but she did remember that the main strip Sue Ann’s Café was located on was only about five miles past the city limits.
Just five miles. Which, with these nasty road conditions, meant about ten minutes. She just had to hold it for another ten minutes.
Easy peesy. Right? Right!
Just as Tessa was giving herself a much needed pep talk, the road curved sharply to the left, and as she turned, admittedly going about five miles too fast, her front right wheel dipped into a pothole, causing the car to jar suddenly.
Uh oh!
Tessa squeezed her thighs even tighter. Her bladder was so painfully full it felt like it was about to burst. She needed to face facts. There was a distinct possibility that she wouldn’t actually be able to make it the ten remaining minutes to her destination without peeing in her pants.
Okay, she rationalized, if peeing in my pants is the worst thing that happens today, it’s not such a bad day.
Tessa always tried to keep things in perspective. There were children starving, wars being fought, people dying and suffering beyond her wildest imagination; peeing her pants—although humiliating!—didn’t even make a blip on the radar screen of tragedy. Even on her personal bad-day scale from one to ten, it would only rank about a five.