Letting go of her hand, Eric trotted over to where the General held the old marine trunk on one end and the kids shared the handle on the other side. “Where are we going with this?”
“Down the hill. I think by the wall will be a good spot for us. Plenty of camouflage.”
Camouflage? Iris looked up. Even though it was broad daylight, she wondered if there wasn’t a big old white full moon shining down on them. Nothing.
“And here we go. This is nice and close to the water but away from the sand.”
Emily and Gavin were practically jumping out of their skins with excitement. If Iris guessed correctly, the two were in on the General’s mischief.
“Can I pick first?” Emily asked, grinning from ear to ear at the old man she’d grown fond of.
“Then me?” Gavin added enthusiastically.
The General gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You two will get first pick.”
Jumping up with excitement, both kids cheered. At that moment Emily turned to face the General and froze in place. Iris lifted her gaze to follow where the child was looking, and spotted Eric’s grandfather smiling at her.
“Grampy!” Emily took off at a fast dart as her great grandfather opened his arms to meet her halfway.
“How’s my buttercup?”
Immediately she prattled on all that happened without slowing for a breath. “And then Uncle Eric took us fishing. Except we didn’t have time to fish before we dropped Gavin’s bag in the water.”
“Oh no,” the old man said gravely.
“It was okay. Uncle Eric diveded in after it.”
“Good for Uncle Eric.”
Emily grabbed hold of one hand and Gavin of the other, and together they dragged the old man to where the General stood by the footlocker.
“What have we here?” Their grampy came to a stop.
Turning to face the voices, the General’s eyes rounded for a flash in time before he cleared his throat and flipping the locker lid open, announced, “A little afternoon fun.”
Eric’s grandfather dropped his gaze to the contents and let out a belly laugh. “Now that is my kind of fun.”
Iris looked down at the chest filled with every size water gun imaginable. Old fashioned squirt guns, super soakers, fireman soakers, streamers, blasters, and everything in between.
“Come on.” Eric’s granddad handed Gavin a water gun almost as big as he is. “You can be on the Navy team like your uncle and me. We’ll show these Marines how it’s done.”
“That’ll be the day.” The General handed a gun to Emily. “We’ll show them, won’t we?”
Iris watched the interaction. From the communication, it looked to her like maybe she and Eric were the only ones who hadn’t known his grandfather was here.
“Pick your teams,” the General called out. “Last man dry wins.”
“I’m in.” A hot dog in one hand, Eric’s dad came hurrying over waiving the other. “I’m with Dad and Eric.”
Emily threw her arms around Eric’s dad. From the way Eric had described his family dynamics, all this affection from the children for their grandfathers wasn’t what Iris had expected. Then again, nothing today was going the way she’d expected. A sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach told her that the world had just shifted on its axis. After today, everything would probably be very different. The recent happy days of fun and games with Eric and the children looked to be coming to an end.
***
Every time Eric suspected the day couldn’t get any stranger, fate stepped in to surprise him. Who knew the General kept a stash of water guns for liquid battle. Only a retired Marine Corps General would keep enough weaponry on hand to start an aquatic war. As each of the participants loaded up their water guns, others on the Point noticing the activity eagerly came to join the fun.
So far they had three teams. Navy, Marines, and first responders. All sprinkled with friends and family. In some ways it reminded him of gym class in school where everybody had to pick who was on their team, but unlike his youth, no one was left out. Torn between her love for her Grampy and Grandpops, and the man who had come to mean as much to her these last couple of weeks, Emily finally opted to battle at Iris and the General’s side, with her biological grandfathers assuring her there would be no favoritism. The phrase all is fair in love and war got tossed around a time or two, but Eric had a feeling Emily would be treated like precious cargo anyhow.
Standing in place, considering the new battleground, a sudden spit of icy water hit him in the arm.
“Oops.” Standing over Gavin, squirt gun in hand, Thelma flashed an un-apologetic smile. “Just showing the young man how it works.”
“Ah!” Thelma squealed and whipped around to catch Louise holding her weapon to one side.
“Sorry.” Her friend shrugged. “Testing the trigger.”
Eric bit down on his back teeth and swallowed a laugh. He was starting to think maybe Thelma and Louise were more deserving of their names than he’d given them credit for. Those two definitely deserved each other.
A foil covered tray in hand, Lucy came walking down the path. Mrs. Hart, dressed in a bright ankle length dress and carrying a similar sized tray, followed behind her.
“Joining us, dear?” the General asked his wife. As if confirming the request, two happy and wet golden retrievers barked at Fiona Hart.
“Maybe next time.” His wife smiled at him.
Grinning, the General nodded and raised his gun. “The boundaries for the battle ground are from the Sycamore cabin to the Willow, to the Elm, over to the Birch. Refill zones are anywhere along the shoreline and the creek as well as the rain barrels scattered around some of the cabins. Your objective: Soak all opponents. The rules…” He paused to survey the teams crowded around him, and his already contented smile brightened even more to match the twinkle in his eyes. “There are none.”
Lucy came marching across the lawn toward the main house. “There’s one rule.” She waved a finger at the General. “Anyone who shoots at me or Mrs. Hart while tending to the rest of this crowd won’t be sitting at our kitchen table for a month.”
Multiple heads nodded and a few people winced. Lucy had just ensured that everyone playing kept their guns pointed at anyone but her or the General’s wife.
“So,” the General slung his super soaker gun over his shoulder and slapped his hands together, “are we ready?”
Questions on soaking, headshots, and eliminations came flying at the General. His attention snagged away by the sound of two doors slamming, it took Eric a moment to recognize the tall blonde descending the hill in jeans as Richard’s sister. Earlier she could have fallen off the cover of any high fashion magazine. Now, she could have easily been on the cover of Fish and Stream. He could only assume the other lady rushing to keep up with Roberta’s quick pace was her sister. Now what?
Having spotted the women at the same time, even though she and he were on separate teams, Iris came hurrying over to stand beside him, her gaze quickly scanning Roberta’s more appropriate attire.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Roberta said in a rush, “even we Brits know how to dress for a picnic.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Roberta held her hand up. “No offense taken. But there’s been an update. We need to talk.”
“Okay.” A spare gun in each hand, the General called out in full Marine Corps command mode. Eric hadn’t noticed the General approaching, and his jaw almost hit the floor when the family patriarch handed one to each sister. “We’re starting. Pick a side and get moving. Y’all can talk later.” He spun around. “And go!”
To his surprise, Roberta looked left then right at the brigade of people scrambling for cover while firing spouts of water, and grabbing her sister by the hand, crouched and headed for a wall of shrubs shouting, “You Yanks do throw an interesting party.”
He was just thinking the same thing.
Chapter Nineteen
Apparently th
e General’s free for all rules meant even those soaked to the bone were still allowed to play. Iris and her cousins had one advantage over many of the guests: they knew all the best spots for ambushing unsuspecting opponents. While she’d been hit a few times, compared to some of the other folks on the team, they were pretty high and dry.
“Okay,” Lily crouched behind the hydrangea shrubs, “Eric’s grandfather is as bad as the General when it comes to this war zone stuff.”
Large hair comb in her mouth, Cindy wrung out her ponytail then clipped it to the top of her head. “Tell me about it. That old guy is like a stealth bomber.”
“More like a torpedo,” Iris suggested.
“What did he do in the Navy anyhow?” Poppy asked, pressed against the wall.
“All I know is he retired as a captain.”
“Captain? That’s impressive,” Cindy said.
Poppy squinted, eyes to the sky. “What’s that in the Marine Corps?”
“Full bird Colonel,” Iris answered.
“Oh, that is impressive.” Poppy nodded.
“So, what’s the plan?” Cindy leaned in.
“Spread the word.” Iris huddled with her cousins. “The Navy team is using the back of the Elm as home base. We’ll surround them on three sides. When you see me step out in the open, that’s the sign they’re moving. Everyone count to three and we’ll show those squids what a Marine soaking is all about.”
“Sounds good,” several voices echoed.
Iris made her move around the side of the cabin. The only one of her team dressed in brown, she was able to easily blend in with the foliage and skirt the perimeter. Almost to her objective, Lucy came hurrying down the hill, weaving her way from bush to shrub.
“I think we have a problem.” Lucy reached Iris, huffing heavily, her hand to her heart.
Iris seriously didn’t like the looks of that. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. I just wanted to reach you before your grandmother and guests track you down.”
“Track me down? What are you talking about?”
“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Queen of England has descended on us.”
“Queen of England? Lucy, what in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“The two people insisting on speaking with Eric.”
Eric? Uh oh.
“The woman is not only wearing a linen suit, she’s wearing stockings. Who wears stockings on a warm day like this? Oh yeah, and sensible black pumps.” Lucy shook her head. “Do you know anyone besides the Queen who wears yellow with black shoes?”
“Probably lots of people. Who exactly—”
“Did I mention she has a proper British accent? I don’t know about the man with her, she hasn’t let him get a word in edgewise.”
Sometimes she really needed to learn to skip a few chapters and get to the point. “Lucy. Is it Emily’s grandparents?”
The housekeeper’s hands landed heavily on her hips. “What do you think I’ve been telling you. We have to do something.”
At the sound of the slamming screen door, pointing her water weapon toward the ground, Iris looked up the hill to Hart House. Lucy had a point. At a distance the female visitor did indeed look like the Queen of England from a decade or two ago. And the dour expression on the woman’s face did nothing to ease the knots forming in Iris’s stomach.
Walking briskly, her grandmother escorted the Queen and a stately gentleman down the path directly toward the battle zone. Blast. Eric would be with the rest of his team and Iris needed to boogie if she wanted to both head off the visitors and warn him. Turning to Lucy, she rested her hand on the woman’s arm. “Thanks. I’ll handle it from here.”
“You do that,” Lucy said. “I’m going to find the General and his school buddy.”
“School buddy?” Iris paused mid-step, momentarily forgetting the urgency of her mission.
“That Navy captain is an Annapolis graduate like your grandfather.” Lucy waved over her shoulder and continued hurrying down hill.
Annapolis? Did her and Eric’s grandfathers know each other? That was a long shot. Lots of people graduated from Annapolis. But Lucy said buddy. Iris sighed. There was no time to think about it now. She needed to find Eric. But her grandmother was almost upon them. Thinking fast, she decided running interference would give Lucy and her grandfather time to find Eric. Taking off at a quick clip, Iris shot across the open field to catch up with her grandmother when a sudden kaleidoscope of colors flashed from all directions along the perimeter.
The world suddenly turned in slow motion. The Marine team spun around in the open from behind bushes and trees. The Navy team rushed forward, guns taking aim. Iris couldn’t have stopped the impending fiasco if the future of the universe had depended on it. Sprays and streams of water shot across time and space as the team members ran back and forth sending massive cascades of water descending around them. Dead center of all the laughter and screeches drowning out the normal pitch of ordinary conversation, the once pristine pseudo Queen of England stood dead center, soaking wet. Oh, hell.
***
Oh hell. Eric had seen his sister’s wedding photos enough times to recognize the woman with short, curly, salt and pepper hair as Adele’s mother-in-law. Her soaking wet mother-in-law. For a few very long seconds, Eric stood horrified as gushes of water soared through the air, targeting the oncoming group. Walking in front of Fiona Hart, Anne Hughes had taken the brunt of liquid barrage. Mrs. Hart had suffered only mild collateral sprinkles and Mr. Hughes, still standing behind the two women, remained unscathed from the skirmish.
Only the drenched woman’s appalled gasp snapped Eric into action. Bolting full speed ahead, he reached her at the same moment as Iris and the General. Arms extended and eyes circled large and round, Anne Hughes silently surveyed herself. If Eric correctly read the fury in the woman’s eyes, any minute she was going to rip him a new one.
“I’ll get a towel.” Cindy was the first to speak before dashing up the hill.
Fiona Hart came up beside the still stunned woman and sweetly called over her shoulder to her granddaughter. “You’d better make that several towels, dear.”
Laughing and smiling, Emily and Gavin came galloping up beside Eric and took position at either side of him, each looping an arm around his middle. From the sudden slip of all merriment from their faces, they too had taken note that their paternal grandmother was most definitely not a happy camper.
“I. Have. Never,” the woman managed to huff, looking up at Eric. “I suppose this is all your doing. You’ve turned my grandchildren into barbarians.”
His niece and nephew sidled up even closer to him.
Fiona flashed a disarming smile. “Perhaps we should get you back to the house to dry off.”
For the first time in his life, Eric understood the old expression if looks could kill. Clearly, Fiona’s attempts to disarm the situation had fallen flat. He also understood why Richard most likely had been such a stuffed shirt. Working all over the world, Eric had met plenty of Brits. Although overall, they generally had a slightly higher standard of polite—what he had often heard mentioned as British sensibilities—none quite reached the level of sensibilities as Richard and his mother.
Mrs. Hughes turned her steely gaze from Fiona to Eric. “Is this what you consider a proper environment for Emily and Gavin?”
“This,” Roberta came to stand beside him, pointing a thumb at her mother, “is what we needed to talk to you about.”
Mrs. Hughes quickly scanned her two daughters from head to toe. “And what do you think you are doing?”
“It’s called having fun, Mother. You should try it some time.”
From a few steps behind, her husband’s failed attempt to smother a laugh could be heard, and once again Anne Hughes cast a scathing glare, this time in her husband’s direction.
“If you will excuse the pun, I think this is much ado about nothing.” The General seemed to be the only person brave enough t
o plant himself next to the irate woman.
“Agreed.” Eric’s grandfather came to stand beside the General.
“Mum,” Roberta huffed, “until you showed up snapping like a rabid dog, the children were having fun.”
Richard’s father stepped around his wife and moved forward. “It does appear to me that under the circumstances,” reaching Emily and Gavin he stopped and smiled down at them, “the children look very well adjusted.”
Emily and Gavin remained still until their grandfather wiggled his fingers hello at them. The effort brought a coy smile to Emily’s face, and giggling, Gavin mimicked the wiggling fingers. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hughes didn’t appear to agree.
“See,” Mr. Hughes said to his wife before his shoulders sank and his smile slipped at his wife’s steely gaze.
The General leaned into her. “Perhaps this would be a good time to infiltrate enemy lines.”
White lines circled around the dark orbs that matched the gray in Anne Hughes’ hair.
“If you’ll hear me out,” the General continued, “as a military man I can relate to the sense of insubordination that comes with a family who doesn’t understand the importance of good order and discipline. Can you imagine how chaotic the royal house would be without protocol?”
The General seemed to be speaking the woman’s language. Her deep scowl eased from utter disgust to mere annoyance.
“So many of life’s problems come from a lack of unit cohesion. A strong command is key.”
The lady actually gave a short nod.
“On the other hand,” he raised his fully loaded super soaker, “there are times when the only way to teach the ranks a lesson is to join the battle.” He waved his arm that held the water weapon in the general direction of her husband. Without skipping a beat, he handed the water gun to the woman and cocked his head.
The General had to have completely lost his mind. What lunatic would hand the Queen of England a water gun and provoke her to shoot at her husband, the Prince?
Iris Page 13