something swiftly wraps itself around my neck and drags my head upwards, and I am suddenly inhaling blessed, glorious air and the sun is beating down on my face again.
"Meredith, stop !" I suddenly hear Grant yelling and I realise he is the one holding my head above water while his other hand is still wrapped around my wrist. Abruptly, I sag in relief, my limbs ceasing their fight against some horrible unknown monster.
And as my legs float downwards, my toes suddenly touch the floor of the pool.
Oh.
Well, this is embarassing. My eyes move upwards and I lock gazes with Grant's emerald green ones. He is panting lightly with the exertion of keeping me from drowning in four feet of water.
I don't know how long we would have stayed there like that, with me paralysed in utter mortification, if Milo hadn't blithely swanned back as though I hadn't almost just died.
"Sorry about that. One of the girls suffered a cramp right in the middle of the pool, poor thing," he tells us before stopping short in astonishment. So near towards the shallow end, Milo's impressive pectoral region rises above the water and I see some of the mothers who are reclining on the pool chairs lean forward, their hands going up to their eyes to lower their sunglasses. "What are you guys doing?"
Ginny, whom I suddenly realise is squatting casually at the edge of the pool, staring at me with fascination, chirps, "Daddy just saved her from drinking a lot of water and dying."
My face flames and I feel Grant release his grip on me after directing my hand to the comforting edge of the pool, and I silently swear to never let go of it ever again.
Thankfully, Milo lets it pass and we resume our Superman poses. I'm stunned to realise I can continue despite suffering the panic attack a mere five minutes ago. In fact, it feels like one of the nightmares I'd had in the first few weeks after Mike died, horribly nasty and unpleasant but difficult to hold on to after jolting awake.
When the lesson is finally over, I scramble back onto the safety of dry land with a huge wave of relief flooding through me. Milo tells us he will see us next week, "where you guys will swim your first stroke! Yes, Meredith, away from the side of the pool."
I just shove that horrible thought out of my head. Next week could take care of itself. I turn around to look at Grant, who has wrapped a towel around himself.
"Hey, thank you," I call to him. "I'm sorry, that must have looked really stupid."
He gives me a smile, a real one that lights up his eyes. "Well, that looked just a little bit stupid. But it was my pleasure. It's not everyday I get to save a damsel in distress."
"Except in my case, I suppose it was more of an unglamorous octopus in distress."
As I am about to turn and trudge towards the shower room for a much-needed hot shower, I see his mouth give a twitch from the corner of my eye but he manfully refrains from further comment.
"So, I nearly died!" I declare dramatically to Laney before swigging back a swallow of ice-cold beer. "I swear, I was this close to opening my mouth in the water today."
As I tell her the events of the day, more and more people start trickling into the bar. We arrive early, so we have prime spots right in front of the young, handsome bartender, whom Laney set her sights on the moment we arrived.
"Wait, wait. So who is Grant? I was under the impression you were the only one Milo was coaching," she interrupts, tipping her bottle at me accusingly. She looks fantastic, her smoky black eyeliner making her eyes look all dark and mysterious
Emmanuelle Arsan
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