“That's not even possible,” he said.
“It is for me,” I said. I put my hands on my hips. “These are hard questions.”
He shook his head and leaned back into the chair.
I walked toward the stairs and stepped gingerly into the cool water, staying on my tiptoes as I waded in deeper. I smiled at the girl in purple and she flashed me a gap-toothed smile. I navigated around her as she dove under again, her feet kicking up a spray of cool water. Her dad was in the pool with her and he offered a smile of apology.
“I have four of my own,” I told him. “There's usually more splashing than swimming going on when I take them to a pool.”
He chuckled.
The water lapped against my stomach and I tried to go higher on my toes. Jake always dove right in and I always took my time, trying to adjust to the water. It never worked and I'd eventually decide to just lower myself into the water and get it over with. But it was like I had amnesia because each time I hit the water, I'd do the tiptoe dance, as if this time I would somehow adjust better.
I made my way toward the deep end, where the water was out from the shadow of the clubhouse. It was a little warmer and, after taking a deep breath and mentally counting to three, I sank my shoulders into the water, biting back a squeal. One more quick breath and I went all the way under, the water like ice on my sun-warmed hair.
I slicked back my hair, cool and refreshed, and hung on to the side of the pool. Jake was still lounging back on his chair and I imagined he was probably napping. Again. Most of the other chairs on the deck were occupied and there were about a dozen people in the pool. A toddler tooling around in an inflatable duck, his mom steering it expertly in the shallow end, and a pair of elderly women doing what looked like water aerobics. I wondered if it was Water Aerobics day but couldn't remember the details of the activity. A few teens were huddled by the rope that separated the shallow end from the deep end, hanging on to the thick cording and talking animatedly. I was wondering what they were talking about when movement on the deck caught my eye.
Two girls walked in unison, which was the reason I noticed them. It was almost like they were robots synched together, their arms and legs swinging in perfect time as they crossed the pool deck. They wore matching orange bikinis that fit their bodies the exact same way—perfectly. They kicked off their sandals at the same moment and walked single file to the steps into the pool. I stared with unabashed fascination.
They moved through the water, side by side, their long blond hair clinging to their shoulders as they whispered to one another, even adjusting their sunglasses at the exact same moment. It was like something out of a creepy science fiction movie. They were clearly identical twins with one of those weird connections. But they still looked robotic, like they were not quite human.
They settled on the opposite side of the pool from me, resting their elbows on the deck. They dipped their heads back into the water, then pulled their long, wet locks over their shoulders. The one on the right tilted her head to the side and seemed to be looking at me from behind her sunglasses. She turned and whispered to her sister. The sister's gaze locked on me and then she nodded and whispered back.
They glided across the deep end toward me.
Somewhere in my head, the theme from “Jaws” played.
They separated in the water, each gracefully pulling themselves across the deep end with smooth movements, both of their heads above the surface of the water. They came up on either side of me and reached for the wall at the same time.
“I'm Mary Cole,” the one on my left said. She pushed her glasses on top of her head and revealed bright green eyes.
“I'm Carrie Cole,” the one on my right said, mirroring her sister's movements.
My head swiveled back and forth. How had I missed seeing these two yesterday? I'd walked the entire resort with Jake on the first day and we'd gone to the barbecue the night before. If these twins had been there, I would have definitely noticed.
“Uh, hello,” I said.
“We're sisters,” they said together.
I bit back a smile. “You don't say.”
“You're new here,” Carrie said, eyeing me.
Mary squinted at me. “You're in Delilah's place.”
I was completely unnerved. “Yes. My husband and I are staying there.” I pointed to him on the chair. “That's him right there.”
They both rotated their heads in his direction.
“He's hot,” Carrie said.
“For an old guy,” Mary said.
“Yeah, for an old guy,” Carrie said.
I bristled a little at their frank assessment. “I'll let him know,” I said cooly. “Can I help you with something?”
They both peered around me to look at each other, then leaned back.
“You found Harvey,” Carrie said.
“On the trail,” Mary added.
They weren't asking questions; they were making statements.
“I used to go out with him,” Carrie said, her voice lowering a notch.
“Me, too,” Mary said.
I looked at each of them. “You both dated him?”
They nodded in unison.
Well, then.
Carrie flipped her hair off her shoulder. The first non-synchronized move. “He liked me better.”
“Yeah, right,” Mary said, her eyes narrowing.
“No, really.” Carrie's voice was indignant. “He told me so.”
Mary sniffed. “He told me the same thing.”
They glared at one another and I felt decidedly uncomfortable and out of place. I looked in Jake's direction. He was out cold.
“Why are you here, anyway?” Carrie asked.
I glanced at her and she was staring at me, her green eyes practically glowing in the afternoon sun.
“Me?” I asked. “We won a trip to stay here at Windy Vista.”
“I've never won anything,” Mary pouted. She ran a hand over her damp locks. “I came in third in the seventh grade talent show.”
Carrie mirrored her movement, her fingers caressing her own wet hair. “I came in second.”
“That was only because Jimmy Jones was the judge and liked you,” Mary said.
Carrie shrugged, then looked at me again. “How did you win it?”
I stared at her blankly for a minute, wondering if she was asking me about winning a seventh grade talent show. Which I most definitely had not. But then I remembered. Windy Vista. I'd just told them about winning a trip here when they'd gone off about the talent show.
“Oh,” I said. “We entered a contest.”
Carrie looked at me. “We? You mean you and the hot guy?”
“The hot, old guy,” Mary clarified.
“My husband, yes.”
“So, Harvey was all, like, dead and stuff when you found him?” Carrie asked, her eyes clouding just a little.
My brain was threatening to explode. “Uh, yes. Unfortunately.”
“What did he look like?” Mary asked.
“Excuse me?” She'd just said she'd dated him. That she and her sister had apparently both dated him. I wondered if it was simultaneously. Twins shared things, didn't they?
“I've never seen a dead person before,” Mary explained.
Carrie shot her an annoyed look. “He probably still looked like Harvey.”
“Shut up.”
They both waited for me to answer, their green eyes like lasers aimed at my face.
“He looked like...a person,” I finally said. I didn't want to remember the lifeless eyes staring skyward, his mouth slightly open, the lips pale, almost colorless, or the tone of his skin that had already started to shift from rosy to lifeless. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get out now.”
“I'll bet if he hadn't broken up with me, he'd still be alive,” Carrie said.
“Me, too,” Mary said. “I mean, if he hadn't broken up with me.”
“He broke up with you first.”
Mary snickered. “He broke up with you last.”