Page 61 of My Best French Wedding

Hildy was wondering the same thing. After briefly surfacing for more air, both Fiona and Robbie had gone back under.

“Looks like she lost something,” one of Fiona’s attendants said. It sounded like they were calling plays on ESPN.

“Oh my God. What if it was her ring?” The bridesmaid with the fishtail braid cupped her hands around her mouth as she yelled, “Was it your ring, Fiona?”

Hildy felt a squeeze of panic. Had Fiona been wearing her epically expensive ring to pool-noodle joust? Surely she wouldn’t… okay maybe she would. But this wasn’t the Atlantic Ocean. All they had to do was find it. She was thinking about joining the search when Fiona popped up again, followed a second later by Robbie.

“What is it, Fee?” her bridesmaids chorused.

Fiona silently held up her left hand.

There were several gasps of “No!” Others were too shocked to do anything but press a hand to their mouths.

“What are you going to do?” a bridesmaid wailed.

Walter edged closer to Hildy, keeping his voice pitched low. “Was it the ring?”

She shook her head. “Fingernail.”

“She lost a fingernail?” He sounded more confused than alarmed. “Is she bleeding?”

Hildy shushed him. She didn’t have time to explain the art and science of acrylics right now.

“Isn’t that bad luck?” one of the bridesmaids stage-whispered.

“What about the pictures?” another of them gasped. “She can’t do close-ups like that!”

“Don’t worry, Fee! You can use a hand model,” the bridesmaid with the braid assured her. “No one will know.”

Hildy raised both hands, urging everyone to chill. “It’s going to be okay. Someone here is bound to have nail glue. We’ll get through this.”

Fiona shook her head. “I should have known better than to get them wet. I just wanted to have fun with you,” she told a dripping Robbie.

“It was fun,” he assured her. “Until the end.”

No one pointed accusingly at Hildy, but she felt the heat of unspoken condemnation. “Sorry about that.”

“She gets carried away,” Walter said. “With the competitive spirit.”

Hildy rounded on him. “Or maybe it’s because my little pony got spooked and started running away?”

Walter made a show of clearing his throat, as if she’d just proven his point.

“Can we focus on what’s important here?” Hildy said.

Robbie nodded, his expression resolute. “Does anyone have a scuba mask? I am going back in. I won’t rest until I find that nail for you, Fee!”

“I’ll help.” Walter slipped under the rope to join the underwater rescue mission.

Hildy turned to Fiona, ready to apologize again or reassure her about the wonders of nail technology, but she was being pulled out of the pool by a gaggle of sympathetic bridesmaids.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” one murmured, while another announced that she had already alerted Fiona’s beauty team.

“I’ll order champagne from room service,” a third promised.

Hildy wasn’t sure her presence would be welcome just now, so she watched them depart, followed by a triumphant Robbie holding his beloved’s fingernail aloft like a pale pink Excalibur.

Walter joined her on the grass, tugging his shirt back on. “That could have gone better.”