Chapter 57

“Jennie’s Sea Urchin Emergency: Hotel Edition”

By the time Lisa and Jennie made it back from the beach, the sky had turned a deep shade of twilight. Lisa limped slightly, careful with every step, but Jennie refused to let her walk unassisted. She practically carried Lisa on one hip while balancing the beach bag, cooler, and a suspiciously heavy first-aid kit.

“Jennie…” Lisa said, trying to sound calm, though her foot still throbbed. “I can walk-“

“No. Absolutely not.” Jennie cut her off mid-step, narrowing her eyes at the hotel carpet. “You do not walk until I have personally inspected every potential hazard in this corridor. I will carry you like a queen if I have to. And I will.”

Lisa snorted, leaning her head against Jennie’s shoulder. “You are literally overreacting.”

Jennie gasped. “OVERREACTING? LISA! THIS IS A SEA URCHIN EMERGENCY! IT COULD HAVE LEFT SPIKES EMBEDDED, INFECTION RISK, WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE! EVERY STEP IS A THREAT!”

Lisa just laughed, too amused by Jennie’s intense dramatics to argue. “Fine… carry me then.”

Jennie, thrilled at the submission, marched them down the hallway with a heroic flare, waving the first-aid kit like a sword. “Onward! To the battlefield of towels and antiseptic!”

Once in their hotel room, Jennie immediately dumped Lisa onto the bed with alarming precision, flopping beside her. “Okay. Step one: Inspect. Step two: Sanitize. Step three: Ice pack. Step four: Monitor for any suspicious movement.”

Lisa blinked. “Suspicious movement?”

“Yes!” Jennie exclaimed. “SEA URCHINS CAN MOVE. YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE THOSE SPIKES COULD GO. I will not take any chances!” She rummaged through the first-aid kit like a general preparing for war, pulling out tweezers, antiseptic, gauze, and something that looked suspiciously like a tiny toy helmet.

Lisa tried to stifle her giggles as Jennie started cleaning the wound with painstaking care. “Jennie… it’s really not that bad,” she said again, wincing as Jennie dabbed at the tiny cuts with exaggerated precision.

“NOT THAT BAD?!” Jennie shouted dramatically, causing Lisa to jump. “LOOK AT IT! IT’S A FOOT ALMOST INFESTED WITH SPIKES! I SWEAR, I WILL FIGHT ANY MICROBE THAT COMES NEAR YOU!”

Jennie carefully wrapped Lisa’s foot in gauze and placed an ice pack on top, securing it with hospital-grade determination. Then she backed away, hands on her hips, inspecting her work.

“There. Safe. Protected. Fortified. You are now immune to sea urchins, bacteria, and minor zombie apocalypses.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, laughing. “Minor zombie apocalypses?”

Jennie nodded solemnly. “Yes. You never know when a zombie might show up and target feet. This is prevention.”

Just as Lisa was about to tease her more, Jennie pulled out her phone, opening a video call to the hotel front desk.

“Hello, yes! I need confirmation that your floors are clear of sea urchins. Yes, all floors. No, I will not take your word for it. I require visual proof. Yes, I am very serious. My wife was attacked earlier, and I will not have another incident!”

Lisa couldn’t breathe. She was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Even the hotel staff, who appeared on the other end of the camera with amused smiles, seemed to know this was not a normal guest situation.

Jennie ended the call with a victorious nod. “Good. They are aware. Prevention measures have been verbally confirmed. Crisis averted.”

Lisa shook her head, still laughing as Jennie flopped next to her on the bed, dramatically draping herself over Lisa’s legs. “Jennie… you’re insane.”

Jennie smirked, softening. “Insane… maybe. But this is love. Maximum-level love, emergency edition.”

Lisa leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Jennie’s forehead. “Well… maximum-level love is exactly what I need right now.”

Jennie sighed, finally letting herself relax a little. “Good. Because next time, we wear water shoes. And I carry a full medical kit, emergency walkie-talkies, and… maybe a tiny armored vest for your foot.”

Lisa laughed, squeezing Jennie’s hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jennie smiled, tucking herself closer. “Yes… and I’m all yours. Sea urchins be damned.”

The room settled into quiet laughter and soft chatter as the waves of chaos slowly ebbed, leaving only warmth, love, and a slightly wrapped foot. And somehow, the beach vacation had never felt safer-or funnier.