Page 58 of Not Another Beach Read
Allison laughed, the sound light and easy. It was nice to see her relaxed for once. She always seemed so tense at the café, especially when checking her phone. Today, I noticed her phone was nowhere in sight.
"Noah votes cannonball," she said. "Right, buddy?"
"CANNONBALL!" Noah shouted with far more volume than his tiny body should have been capable of producing.
"The people have spoken," I said with a dramatic sigh, then took three steps back.
I ran forward and launched myself into the air, tucking my knees to my chest just before hitting the water. The cool shock of submersion was immediately followed by the muffled sounds of cheers and applause as I surfaced, pushing wet hair from my eyes.
"Solid eight out of ten," called Paige from the outdoor kitchen. "Points deducted for minimal splash radius."
"I was being considerate of Grace's book," I protested, nodding toward where Grace had indeed covered her clipped-together pages with her towel at my approach.
"Smart girl," Grace said approvingly.
I looked at the stack of papers in her lap. "Another one? Didn't you just publish one like five minutes ago?" I asked, swimming to the edge of the pool nearest her chair.
"That's the publishing cycle, Sugar. Write one, edit another, promote a third. It's like having triplets at different developmental stages."
"My mom has supernatural powers," Sarah explained, guiding her flamingo raft closer. "She doesn't sleep, she simply recharges while her fingers continue typing."
"If only," Grace sighed dramatically. "Speaking of my books, my cousin called this morning in absolute hysterics."
Everyone paused what they were doing, turning toward Grace with expressions of concern.
"Is she okay?" Jenna asked, setting down a tray of what looked like miniature quiches.
"Physically, yes. Emotionally, devastated." Grace took another sip of her drink. "Apparently, she's received three strongly worded emails from her bridge club members about how I murdered their favorite character in my last book."
"Oh no," Paige said, though she was clearly fighting a smile. "Not the bridge club!"
"Oh yes," Grace confirmed gravely. "Apparently Meredith Anderson—you know, the one with the poodle that's dyed to match her outfits?—told my cousin that she's related to a 'literary sociopath' who 'toys with readers' emotions like a cat with a wounded bird.'"
"That's... oddly specific," Aunt Elyse remarked.
"And honestly, kind of a compliment," I added. "I mean, isn't that the point? To make people care so much they get mad when you kill someone?"
Grace pointed at me approvingly. "Exactly! Thank you, Holly. At least someone understands artistic integrity."
"So what did your cousin say to them?" Sarah asked.
Grace's face broke into a wicked grin. "She told them if they thought this was bad, wait until the next book, where I kill off TWO characters they love."
"You didn't!" Jenna gasped.
"I don't, actually. But my cousin doesn't know that, and neither do the bridge ladies. They'll be on tenterhooks for months."
Everyone burst out laughing, and I found myself laughing along, feeling unexpectedly comfortable in this circle ofwomen. Six months ago, I would have been lurking at the edges, convinced I didn't belong in their adult world. Now it felt... not quite like I was one of them, but like I had a place among them. A voice that was heard.
Noah had been lowered into the shallow end by his mom and was now splashing happily with a pool noodle, supervised by Sarah's twins who had appointed themselves his official lifeguards.
"Holly, would you mind keeping an eye on Noah for a moment?" Allison asked. "I need to help Jenna bring out the rest of the food."
"Sure," I agreed, swimming over to the shallow end where Noah was attempting to balance on his noodle like a seahorse.
"Hey bud," I said. "Wanna see something cool?"
I showed him how to use the noodle as a water cannon by blowing through one end, making him giggle uncontrollably. We were in the middle of a water cannon battle when the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the music.
