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“Um, he has them.”
The button refuses to release the magnet holding the gate shut. I could hop the wall but don’t want to startle anyone. I don’t know why I’m suddenly in such a hurry to leave other than that red flag blowing wildly, invisibly in the wind like a warning.
“But did you see them?” Romy presses.
“No, it’s bad luck,” Lally replies.
“That’s if the groom sees the bride in the gown before the wedding march.” Romy adds, “Chase Magnus down and make sure he has the rings.”
There will be no chasing, but I sense I’ve been spotted. Instinctually, I turn around to check at the same time Romy shoves Lally in my direction.
Sent suddenly off balance, and very baby giraffe-like, she stumbles.
Her eyes widen.
Her arms windmill.
Her purse flies toward a lounge chair.
Then comes the splash as she falls into the pool.
A long silence follows and my instincts kick in when she doesn’t immediately surface. Without hesitating, I do a shallow dive before opening my eyes.
Spotting her instantly, I swim deeper. Her skirt billows, but her arms and legs move laterally as if she’s trying to keep herself underwater. Eyes open, our gazes meet.
Tiny bubbles escape her mouth as if she sighs, then in one swift motion, pushes through the water toward the surface.
I follow, and after shaking off the water, I say, “Are you okay?”
“Just cooling off on this hot Atlanta night.”
“Flyboy to the rescue,” Ross shouts.
Some people clap and Linc whistles.
We move toward the edge.
“Why didn’t you come up right away?” I ask.
She smooths her hair. “Staving off the embarrassment for as long as possible?”
“But I saw Romy push you.”
“...In your direction.”
“Did you turn an ankle or hit your head?”
“No, but thank you. It’s just my pride that took another hit.”
Anotherhit? But I don’t ask what she means as we climb the ladder on the edge of the pool. I get a few striped towels from the stack for guests.
I overhear Romy saying, “In college, Lally was voted most likely to bring home a cat.”
“Is that because she was always attracting strays?” Ross chuckles.
Lally must overhear despite toweling off her hair. “Gee, thanks. You paint such a splendid portrait. But it’s because I was studying—”
But having already moved on from the spectacle of her falling into the pool, they turn back to their drinks, not interested in her response.
