Page 19 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Need a hand?” Mike asks.
I groan internally but plaster a smile on my face. “No. I’m fine.”
“Is shoving tarot cards down your pants considered fine?”
“Bea!” Mom calls from the patio. “Where are you?”
I turn and step closer to Mike, trying to hide the tarot card deck while not noticing how good the combination of thyme and eucalyptus smells.
“I need you to take videos,” Mom says. “Eaton and Pop-Pop are about to unwrap their gifts.”
“Isn’t that what your hired photographer and videographer are for?”
“But I need some on my phone. Grab it. It’s charging in the kitchen.”
“Let me help,” Mike says.
I’m about to tell him I can handle it all by myself, thank you very much, but then I slip on a puddle in the kitchen and stumble into Mike. My hand momentarily lands on his firm chest. I pull it away as if I’ve touched a hot pan.
His gaze darts down and up before his mouth quirks. “Wow, you don’t waste time.” His hand, the one not braced against the kitchen counter, encircles my waist, and then he squeezes.
I attempt to swat his hand away but instead look ridiculous, flailing Eaton’s moose and blankie. “Move. I need to get my mom’s phone.”
He reaches back and grabs the phone. Still holding me, his hand resting on the small of my back. “This one?”
I attempt to grab it but slide once again in Adam’s wet footprints. “My gosh. Why didn’t Adam towel off before coming inside?”
Mike steadies me. “Maybe you should take off those ridiculous sandals?”
“Maybe you should let go of me?”
“I’m just making sure you don’t fall and break something.”
“I’m fine,” I snarl, grabbing the phone and shoving past Mike. I feel close to tears, and I can’t stand the thought of Mikenoticing. He’d make it worse.Look, the cactus has feelings. How interesting.This is why I run out of the kitchen.
I dart around the crowd that has assembled on the patio to watch Eaton open his gifts.
“Bea!” Mike shouts, running after me. Which only makes me run faster.
And then my ankle wobbles, I lose my footing, and I fall, spread-eagle, into the pool. As I’m going down, I try to toss the blanket and moose to dry land, but instead I just fling them into the deep end. I see them hit the water right before I do.
I make an incredible splash. Water goes up my nose. My mom’s tarot cards end up spread out around me, floating on the surface of the water.
Eaton is crying and screaming because he’s overtired and needs a nap, and now his security blanket and moose are sinking to the bottom of the pool. Along with my mom’s phone.
Mike dives blithely into the water.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“For the love, Mike, I can swim.” I get to the side of the pool and pull myself out. I’m a sopping mess of crochet and denim.
Portia is laughing so hard she’s crying.
“You ruined the party,” Julie snaps.
“It was an accident.” I glare at Mike, who has retrieved the moose and blanket.
“We’ll wash them,” Dad says, taking the soggy articles from Mike.
