20. Hildy #2
By some miracle, they managed to slip and scramble her body back into position by the time the whistle blew, though they’d probably both need physical therapy later.
And maybe the other kind of therapy. Shaking off those memories, Hildy gripped the pool noodle with both hands, ready to enter the fray.
“Can you go any faster?” she asked, several shuffling paces later. “More gallop, less stagger?”
“I’m trying not to drop you.”
Hildy bucked her hips, urging him forward.
“Not helping,” Walter grunted.
When they finally reached the midpoint, Fiona surprised her with a swipe to the ribs.
“Hiyah!” she bride cried out.
“Nice one, babe!” Robbie held up a hand for a high five.
“I thought she might be ticklish,” Fiona confessed.
“Not there,” Walter said under his breath.
Hildy pretended not to hear. She was too busy being miffed their opponents had drawn first blood.
They traded blows for a while, one dull smack after another. When the whistle signaled the end of the first round, the two teams retreated to opposite ends of the pool. Hildy’s arms were rubbery, so she could only imagine how Walter felt.
“How are you holding up?” she asked him, after someone dressed like a medieval page squirted Gatorade into their mouths.
“I’m fine.”
Hildy eyed their opponents, hoping to see signs of flagging energy. Unfortunately, Robbie and Fiona were as bouncy as ever. “We should probably end this.”
“I would nod but—”
“My pelvic bone is in the way, I know. I’ll assume you agree.”
“With what?”
“The plan.”
Walter tilted his head in an attempt to look up at her. “Are you going to let me in on it?”
“Just hold on really tight.”
“So … the same thing I’ve been doing?”
“Correct. Now get me back over there.” She tensed her thighs. “Giddyup, partner.”
“I live to serve.”
“Good boy. There’s a lump of sugar with your name on it back at the stable.”
When the whistle blew for the second round, Hildy waited until Fiona raised her arms to strike before making her move.
“Hildy, what are you doing?” Walter sounded panicked, possibly because she’d leaned so far forward to poke Fiona’s underarm he was no longer entirely vertical.
“Letting her have it,” she replied, waiting for Fiona to seize this golden opportunity to steal their pool noodle.
“Don’t!” Walter jerked back.
The chain reaction kicked off when Hildy let go of their pool noodle to grab two handfuls of his hair before she went flying. Fiona lunged for the pink noodle, only to feel her own weapon slipping away. She swayed, arms windmilling.
Just drop it, Hildy thought at her. Without a noodle of their own, she and Walter would be sitting ducks—which was the whole point of letting herself be disarmed.
Instead, Fiona lunged after the falling foam sticks.
“Fee!” Robbie screamed, as his bride-to-be threw her weight sideways. When she hit the water, he plunged after her like a kid bobbing for apples.
Meanwhile, Hildy had let go of Walter to grab for Fiona’s arm. The movement must have caught him off guard, because the next thing Hildy knew, she and Walter were a tangle of limbs at the bottom of the pool.
She came up spluttering, largely due to the arm locked around her midsection.
“Let go,” she told Walter, wriggling free before he could give her the Heimlich. Hildy waded over to where the bridesmaids were fluttering around the edge of the pool.
“What if she drowns?” one of them said. “Can you imagine? Literal days before her wedding!”
“She’s not going to drown,” someone else countered. “Fiona’s a really strong swimmer. Remember that spring break in Cabo?”
“That was a lazy river, Christine. She had an inner tube!”
“What’s she doing down there?” another bridesmaid asked.
Hildy was wondering the same thing. After briefly surfacing for more air, both Fiona and Robbie had gone back under.
“Looks like she lost something,” one of Fiona’s attendants said. It sounded like they were calling plays on ESPN.
“Oh my God. What if it was her ring?” The bridesmaid with the fishtail braid cupped her hands around her mouth as she yelled, “Was it your ring, Fiona?”
Hildy felt a squeeze of panic. Had Fiona been wearing her epically expensive ring to pool-noodle joust?
Surely she wouldn’t … okay maybe she would.
But this wasn’t the Atlantic Ocean. All they had to do was find it.
She was thinking about joining the search when Fiona popped up again, followed a second later by Robbie.
“What is it, Fee?” her bridesmaids chorused.
Fiona silently held up her left hand.
There were several gasps of “No!” Others were too shocked to do anything but press a hand to their mouths.
“What are you going to do?” a bridesmaid wailed.
Walter edged closer to Hildy, keeping his voice pitched low. “Was it the ring?”
She shook her head. “Fingernail.”
“She lost a fingernail?” He sounded more confused than alarmed. “Is she bleeding?”
Hildy shushed him. She didn’t have time to explain the art and science of acrylics right now.
“Isn’t that bad luck?” one of the bridesmaids stage-whispered.
“What about the pictures?” another of them gasped. “She can’t do close-ups like that!”
“Don’t worry, Fee! You can use a hand model,” the bridesmaid with the braid assured her. “No one will know.”
Hildy raised both hands, urging everyone to chill. “It’s going to be okay. Someone here is bound to have nail glue. We’ll get through this.”
Fiona shook her head. “I should have known better than to get them wet. I just wanted to have fun with you,” she told a dripping Robbie.
“It was fun,” he assured her. “Until the end.”
No one pointed accusingly at Hildy, but she felt the heat of unspoken condemnation. “Sorry about that.”
“She gets carried away,” Walter said. “With the competitive spirit.”
Hildy rounded on him. “Or maybe it’s because my little pony got spooked and started running away?”
Walter made a show of clearing his throat, as if she’d just proven his point.
“Can we focus on what’s important here?” Hildy said.
Robbie nodded, his expression resolute. “Does anyone have a scuba mask? I am going back in. I won’t rest until I find that nail for you, Fee!”
“I’ll help.” Walter slipped under the rope to join the underwater rescue mission.
Hildy turned to Fiona, ready to apologize again or reassure her about the wonders of nail technology, but she was being pulled out of the pool by a gaggle of sympathetic bridesmaids.
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” one murmured, while another announced that she had already alerted Fiona’s beauty team.
“I’ll order champagne from room service,” a third promised.
Hildy wasn’t sure her presence would be welcome just now, so she watched them depart, followed by a triumphant Robbie holding his beloved’s fingernail aloft like a pale pink Excalibur.
Walter joined her on the grass, tugging his shirt back on. “That could have gone better.”
“You think?”
“Unless this was your plan?” He gestured at the bridal party leaving their own event early.
“For your information, I was trying to let them win. If you hadn’t panicked—”
“I was saving you from yourself!”
“I didn’t need saving. My self-control is legendary.” Except around you, she added silently. He really was a menace to her reputation.
“I guess it just happens.” His voice was muffled as he bent to slide on his shoes, but the words wormed their way under Hildy’s skin.
“What happens?”
He straightened. “You. Making a splash.”
She ignored the terrible pun. “And you’re an innocent bystander?”
He shrugged. “I’m just a reporter. I don’t make news.”
“You think I want to be the center of attention?”
Walter didn’t deny it.
“Here’s a PSA for you. I’m part of the story whether I want to be or not. So yeah, I know how to shape the narrative. Better than letting other people use me.” She let that sink in for a second before turning her back on him and walking away.