“Well, well. Lyall, I suppose we’ll have to get this young person her first champagne.”

“Fresh out,” Rose and Lyall say together.

“Okay, then that’ll be another round for the ladies. And for me . . . When did you last clean your lines, Lyall?”

“Earl, darling, my pipes are clean.”

“Proof of the pudding’s in the eating, I guess. Right, pint of IPA, easy on the head.”

Lyall starts to come back to that but closes his mouth so his lips make an audible slap. “No, not in front of the kid, I think. You’re lucky you keep gentle company, darling.”

It’s not until Lyall’s poured half of Earl’s beer that Earl’s face shows he’s got the joke. He laughs a little heh heh heh laugh and wags a finger at Lyall. Lyall smiles and blows him a kiss.

As the three of us settle down at a table, I suddenly have to pee so bad my teeth itch.

Rose’s eyes drop down to my knee, which is bouncing at the speed of machine gun fire. “Now, if y’all’ll excuse us, we’re gonna have a gossip and gussy-up.” She takes my hand and we walk to the bathroom like girlfriends.

Peeing is the most wonderful thing in the world. It is total, full-body joy. Whoever was in here before me had asparagus. I don’t know why, but smelling someone else’s asparagus pee always turns me on a little. God, I am a weird fucking pervert. And I hate having thoughts like these around other people, because once you think the thought consciously, really registering it, there’s always the danger that in two more drinks’ time you’ll be blathering your dorkiest secrets to everyone.

Rose is waiting for me by the sink, poufing up her hair in the back. The skin around her cleavage is deeply wrinkled and soft-looking. I don’t stare. She takes a tube of lip gloss out of her bag, puts some on, and offers it to me as she presses her lips together and pouts and scrapes the excess away from the edges of her lips with her orangey-pink fingernails. I memorize the steps and mimic her. She checks her phone.

“I sure hope Giddy didn’t take a spill or nothin’. Said she’d meet us an hour ago, and now she’s not returnin’ my SMS messages. You think we should call in?”

“Maybe we should give it another hour.” I lean in, just in case someone comes in and overhears. And because it’s nice to be close to Rose. “She might be, um, busy. I caught her making out with Milty in the chapel earlier . . .”

“No! When?”

“On my way here.”

“Ooo, and they’re still at it?”

“They left while I was ringing the bell.”