Flash of Panties

A flash story as promised, something in direct opposition of the longer tales I had been posting to date.

More flash stories will follow in the days to come.

Take what you will from them and leave your votes and comments behind.

-V

I picked up the napkin from my lap and dabbed the corner of my mouth before placing it to the left of my plate. "I'll be back in a moment, Sweety," I said as I pushed my chair back.

"Everything ok, Terry?"

Slinging my TJ Maxx dress purse over my left shoulder I stood up with a gentle smile. "Just have to go powder my nose." I looked down at Justin's half eaten steak. "Don't wait for me, I'll be right back." He grinned at me, that adorable chin dimple and flashing blue eyes making a faint flush spring across my midsection.

I walked my way through the partially crowded tables at Kans-S-City Steaks until I made it to the restrooms. A pair of faux-swinging doors cordoned off this section from the restaurant proper, a silhouetted outline of a cowboy roping a cattle made up a mural on the back wall. My heels clicked on the transom as I stepped into the ladies room, the sound sending echoes throughout the bathroom.

The first stall was closed and occupied so I made my way to the third and did my business with a minimal amount of fuss. As I was pulling up my panties I heard the unmistakable sound of a camera phone going off and the brief strobe of a flash. I knew it came from the closed stall but the idea of a bathroom picture made me uncomfortable. Tugging my skirt up, I wiggled my butt back and forth until the hem finally rose over my posterior. I heard the other door open and someone make their way over to the sink while I yanked the zipper up and flushed the toilet with my right foot.

Making sure that everything was in place, I drew a deep breath and unlocked the door, walking confidently towards the sink and the other bathroom occupant.

From her reflection in the mirror I could see she was pretty but had too much mascara on, giving her a slightly slutty look. Her brown hair hung free to her shoulders and was teased and sprayed into place, giving it that tousled look even though she was most likely out of bed ten hours ago. However, the most outstanding thing about her was her green sheath dress. It was iridescent and reflective, the green color shifting hues from "new spring leaf" to "angry bay water" as it clung to her body. She had to be five years younger (or maybe eight?) than my 31 years of age, and from the look of her waist, her metabolism hadn't begun to slow down at all.

Her eyes caught mine and she gave one of those combination shy smiles and smirks at the same time, her cheeks flushing slightly under her coating of blush. "Sorry if I scared you," she said, pointing to her iPhone on the counter near her bag. She was putting the final touches of lipstick on, rubbing the crimson red back and forth as she worked her jaw.

I turned on the water and rinsed my fingers, smiling in return. College was a long time ago for me and the ten (alright, fifteen) pounds I was carrying wasn't having me look at my best. Green eyes looked honestly back at me, my skin a very pale tan (or not tanned at all – I have to get outside more) was fairly blemish free. Maybe my dark hair could have had some more life to it but at least it was clean and dye free (mostly dye free, only a few stubborn places that continued to grow in with that ridiculous light brownish patchy coloring). "It's no problem. Just, you know...cameras in the bathrooms."

She nodded, "Lots of creeps." She recapped he lipstick and dropped it in her bag. "No, just took a pic for a Tinder guy I've been crushing on."

"Really? Why here?"

"He noticed my dress and wanted a pic to prove I was wearing something underneath."

Terry felt herself becoming uncomfortable at this girl's frank admission. "Oh my god! Why...I mean here? Now? Wouldn't you just tell him after the date?"

She laughed. "He's not out with me, he's with someone else. I just knew that he'd be here tonight, he posted it on Facebook. So I came in with my girlfriend, got a drink at the bar, and stayed long enough for him to see me." She picked up her phone and rapidly typed across its screen, her painted nails click click clicking their way. A moment later her phone made a twinkling bonging sound and she popped it into her clutch. "And now I'm done. Just a little something for him to look at while he's enjoying his meal."

The door to the bathroom opened, startling me out of my shocked reverie. A shorter, blonder version of the woman (girl?) I was talking to stuck her upper body in (giving me an unneeded view of her cleavage) and said, "Paula, let's go. We're never going to make the train."

"Relax, Sheila. The city will still be there." She looked back at me and shrugged. "Have a nice evening."

"You too," I replied, watching the two of them leave; their chattering voices sounding very much like twittering birds. Oh my god, was I ever that immature? I hope to heck not, because I'm pretty sure someone would have given me a cuff behind the ear. I gave myself a final critical look in the mirror, fixing a few stray hairs behind my ears. Hunching forward a little I reached inside my shirt and adjusted the girls so they looked perkier. Lifting my bra straps a bit I let them snap back down, my boobs settling more naturally in their cups. Not too bad, Terry.

I walked out of the bathroom and stopped by the swinging doors taking a deep breath. My gaze swept the restaurant; at 7:30 on a Friday it was more packed than not. But I did notice a few tables empty which I know did not bode well for the restaurant's future. With so many steak houses popping up all over the area, it was getting harder for the existing ones to remain open. I did not have much hope for the future of Kans-S-City.

But what I was really thinking was who the mystery guy might be that Paula, my bathroom buddy, had sent her updress pic to.

I made my way back to our table, letting my trailing fingers run across Justin's shoulders. There was a lot less steak on his plate than before I left, and from the way he was working his knife and fork, there would be even less. "Miss me?" I asked, as I sat back down, tucking the edge of my skirt forward.

"Mmm hmm," he replied, grinning as he chewed. His tongue flicked out, licking up a bit of sauce that was wetting the corner of his mouth. He swallowed and grunted. "I was watching the game." He motioned towards the bar area where tonight's hockey game was playing. "Looks like the Rangers are going to pull it off."

I poked my chopped sirloin absently, nodding. "Another game seven win, huh?"

"You'd think they wouldn't let it get that far."

"I'll say though, it's nice to watch and root for hockey all the way to Memorial Day."

Justin nodded vigorously. His knife hand twitched towards the distant screen awkwardly as if he was going to make a point, but instead he knocked into his beer glass and set it rocking. "Oh, shit!" he cursed as he tried to steady it, but instead it crashed to table and spilled towards him and into his lap. "Crap! Damn it!"

"Oh, Justin!" I squealed, dancing back in my booth even though none of his Amstel Light was heading my way. Giggling at my husband, I watched as he wriggled his way out of his seat and patted his stomach and crotch with his napkin.

Our waitress came over with a thick white towel. "I'm so sorry sir, are you ok?"

Justin grimaced but smiled. "Yeah, just my pride."

I waved towards the bathrooms, "Sweety, go clean yourself up." He grinned at me and then looked down at obviously wet pants with an arched eye brow. Feeling self-conscious, he turned and walked away, head shaking at his own clumsiness. "Thanks," I said to our server who had already wiped up the beer and was wet wiping the table clean. "He's normally better trained than this," I said with a smirk.

She laughed, moving his plate back into position and picking up his empty glass. "You do what you can, you know? I'll bring him another one, ok?" She tilted her head towards the restrooms. "Should I also bring a bib?"

We both giggled as she turned and made her way back to the kitchen area. What excitement Justin had caused was already fading away as the other diners turned back to their meals and conversations. I sighed, a sensation of contentment running across my shoulders as I settled back into my seat and resumed eating.

Rrrrzzzzzzzzzz.

What the heck was that? It felt like the table was vibrating. I looked around; no one else seemed startled or bothered so it had to be here. Craning my neck over I couldn't see anything leaning on our table or touching it. It was when I moved the menu and condiment rack that I saw Justin's cel phone sitting there, face up.

I smiled, realizing he must have it on silent. Hoping that none of his spilled beer had actually gotten to it, I picked it up and felt along the back, happy to feel it was dry. Looking at it, I gave the front a quick swipe until the passcode screen opened up. I tapped in 0918 (my birthdate) and the screen flashed to where he had it last.

He must have just received a text, and it read, "Aww, U don't comment back? My pic 2 much 4 U?"

My lips hardened and I beetled my brow a bit. Paulapal90. Who is Paulapal90 and what picture? I scrolled upward. "Lol! Wouldn't U like 2 eat them off of me?" What the hell? Scrolling up more, a comment from Justin, "Now that I would love to eat instead of this meal!" Who the heck is he texting back and forth with? How dare he? And then another thumb roll up the conversation until an embedded picture appeared on screen with the caption, "Green lacy panties. Now U know."

And the picture was that of a pair of spread woman's legs ending at the aforementioned green panties, framed by an iridescent greenish colored dress, obviously taken in some sort of bathroom. Sent to my husband's phone.

My husband, Justin. The person on Tinder that Paula, my bathroom buddy, had been crushing on.

The screen became blurry and then I couldn't read any of it as unspilt tears filled my eyes. My breath became shallow and it was difficult to breathe through the constriction I felt in my throat. I know my pulse was pounding though because I could feel it throbbing behind my eyes as I sought to find some solace on what I'd just learned.

Unable to control the pain anymore, I dropped Justin's phone to the table top and grabbed my purse, trying to get out of the booth and away from here.

"Hey, Terry. Where are you going?" Justin's voice emerged from the deafening din of the surrounding diners, hitting my fragile self-esteem like a chainsaw. I could make out his form through the hot salty tears blinding me, blinking them away to fall down my cheeks.

Stupid. The stupid jerk. Stupid. How could you, you stupid jerk? Why? Why to me, Justin? What did I do to deserve this?!

My inner voice was howling while I felt my fists clenching. And then I acted. My left foot came up and snapped down, heel first, slamming into the top of his foot. As he tried to scream and keep his balance, my free hand grabbed the heavy plate his dinner was on and whirled it around. The edge of it smashed into his temple just over his ear, causing his head to careen to the side before the porcelain shattered.

"You rotten son of a bitch!" I scream and someone grabbed me from behind and leaned back, preventing me from stomping on Justin's feet again. "I hate you! How could you, Justin! I loved you! Why!? Why did you do this to me!?"

He was hunched over on the floor, scalp bleeding from a ragged cut, our waitress had a towel pressed to his head while other people were scrambling about and whoever it was that had me restrained was still trying to hold me upright as my knees collapsed and I fell limp.

"Why, Justin?! Why?"

* * *

Hello is this Diane Campbell. Theresa Farrow was arrested today on assault charges after a confrontation with her husband, Justin Farrow. The altercation took place at a popular Patchogue restaurant on Route 112 where Mr. Farrow suffered numerous broken bones in his foot as well as some lacerations and a suspected concussion. He is currently at Stony Brook Medical undergoing observation and has been classified in stable condition at this time. Many eye-witnesses report that Mrs. Farrow seemed distraught and her actions had come out of nowhere. She is currently held on $2,500 bond.