Water aerobics

"I don't see the point in this," Peter said with an exasperated sigh as he eased his body into the warm chlorinated water of the home's indoor swimming pool.

"You know the doctor said it would be good for your hip, baby," Carla replied, already floating happily in the water. "A bit of low impact exercise, he said."

"But water aerobics?" Peter looked askance at the group of mainly elderly women eagerly awaiting the start of class. "Really?"

"Alright, Carla?" an elderly man in his seventies, with a rotund belly spilling out over his swimming trunks and a few tufts of grey hair on his predominantly bald pate. "Haven't seen you in here before."

"Oh, you know how it is, Fred," Carla winked cheekily at the man. "Gotta keep the old man in shape somehow."

"If you need any pointers," Fred added. "Just give me a nudge, yeah?"

"I'm not doing this if you're just gonna flirt with all the old codgers," Peter hissed at her as Fred floated on by with an appreciative glance back at Carla.

"Old codgers?" Carla asked, amused by Peter's denial. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Thanks very much," Peter said, clearly affronted by Carla's inference.

"Oh, don't be like that," she said as his face grew dark, his brow furrowed. "I was only joking. I happen to think you're a very attractive man," she purred, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "For an old codger."

"Alright then," an extremely enthusiastic voice drew their attention to the side of the pool. "Are we all ready? Do we all have a noodle?"

"Noodle?" Peter shrugged at Carla in confusion. "What's a noodle."

"Here you go, Carla." Fred floated by with two noodles in his hand; he gave one to Carla with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. "I got you a noodle."

"Thanks Fred," Carla said with a smile, pulling the long pink foam floatation device towards her across the surface of the water.

"That's a noodle?"

"Uh huh."

"What does it do?"

"It helps you float while you do your exercises."

"I don't need a flaming noodle to float," Peter scoffed at the idea. "I'll be fine on me own."

"You can share mine if you want?"

"Oh no," Peter brushed off the offer. "I wouldn't want your boyfriend getting jealous now, would I."

"Start marching it out, yeah! Let's get warmed up." The voice instructed the group as music started playing from speakers built into the ceiling. "How are we all this morning?"

"Oh, hello," Peter said as he gazed up at the woman stood on the edge of the pool amidst a chorus of 'goods' and 'greats' from the group. "You know what, Carla, you can have Fred, I'll have Miss Thing up there."

Carla's gaze followed Peter's to the young nubile woman, their instructor for the day; she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Peter," Carla shook her head. "I wouldn't bother, baby. I mean, there's no way you can keep up with her."

"I can!" Peter protested.

"Ha!" Carla scoffed. "I'd like to see you try."

"Okay," Peter accepted the challenge. "You just watch me."

And so Peter marched and kicked and lunged and squatted; he raised his hands in the air and twisted his body around, moving his hips in a slow smooth circular motion. He did everything as instructed, revelling in proving himself to Carla.

"Alright then," the instructor said. "Grab your noodle, lay it across your chest, let it do the work of keeping you afloat, and… kick your feet out behind you. For… eight, seven, six, five…"

"So what now, ey?" Carla asked Peter as he stood in the water, noodle-less.

"I can do it without a stupid noodle."

And, to be fair, he did try. Flailing his arms about underneath the water, his attempt at keeping afloat, Peter lay down on his tummy in the water and began to kick with his feet. He kicked and he kicked and he spluttered as his face hit the water. Coughing as the water entered his mouth and his lungs, momentarily choking him, Peter gave up his attempt and stood upright in the water, glowering at being defeated by a damn noodle.

"Come 'ere," Carla said softly, moving her body along her noodle, leaving enough space for Peter. "Share mine. Come on."

Peter happily obliged. He positioned his body next to Carla's on the noodle and stretched out his legs so they were parallel to hers, and began to kick.

"Thank you," he said, leaning towards her and kissing her cheek. "For sharing your noodle."

"What?" Carla smiled at him, the love as clear and present in her eyes in that moment as much as it had ever been. "You think, after thirty years of marriage, I wouldn't share my noodle with you?"

"We should've had it in our vows."

"To love, honour, and share noodles."

"I love you," Peter whispered hoarsely, kissing her once again, on the lips this time.

"I love you, too," Carla responded with a loving smile. "You old codger."