Page 62 of Suddenly Entwined

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After school that afternoon, we have barely enough time to come home, grab everything we need, and pack up some cheese and crackers for them to munch on in the car.

“I dropped my last piece of cheese!” Lou cries a few minutes later as I pull into the parking lot.

“Five second rule,” I tell her, cutting the engine and grabbing the swim bag.

We have a few minutes to spare when we walk through the automatic doors into the lobby, the strong scent of chlorine and humidity filling the air. A receptionist waves us through the turnstiles and we hustle toward the women’s change rooms.

“Where’s your bathing suit, Caro?” Louisa asks as I stuff the tote bag full of clothes and towels into the locker and pocket the tiny silver key.

“My suit? I’m not swimming, honey.”

Natalie adjusts her goggles. “Parents go in the pool for the baby levels.”

Inthe pool? I don’t have a suit here. Surely, Berg would have told me that if it was a requirement. It’s probably optional.

“I’m not in the baby level!” Lou cries as I lead them to the showers.

“Uh huh, are too. That’s why you need an adult there.”

I press my fingers to my temples. “Hold on, so you’re telling me I have to go in the pool? Or else what happens?”

Lou shrugs but Natalie speaks up. “She can’t do her lesson.”

“What!?” Louisa’s cry of outrage echoes off the tile.

Fantastic.

I smooth a hand over Lou’s head, noticing the rims of her eyes already turning red. “I’ll explain things to the teacher. Don’t worry.”

The pool deck is a fluster of activity when we emerge from the changing rooms. Parents are crammed into plastic chairs, babies are wailing, and it’s about eleven degrees hotter than it needs to be. What fresh hell is this?

“That’s my teacher,” Natalie announces, reading the sign with her swim level on it and heading off to a group of kids her age clustered around a lifeguard with a clipboard.

“And where do you meet your class, Lou? Hmm?”

I scan the area, trying to envision Berg’s text.

Louisa tugs my hand. “There.”

We approach the small group of children not far from the viewing area where a dark-haired instructor that can’t be older than seventeen is taking attendance.

“Hi,” I say, hurrying over, “I have Louisa here.”

She barely spares me a glance.

“No suit, no swim, Mom. You know the rules.”

“Oh, um.” I laugh nervously, “I’m not the mom and I actuallydidn’tknow the rules, so I was hoping we could make an exception for today.”

She shakes her head. “You can buy suits at reception.”

“You can?”

This is good. I can do that.

“We’ll be right back.”

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