The sun was a brilliant, unforgiving glare on the pool deck, turning the white loungers into little mirrors. Ugh, finding a chair was basically an Olympic sport, Katy thought. Her gaze swept across the sea of tanning bodies, and then she saw it: a single empty spot. Next to a guy. Perfect. She began the delicate operation of navigation. Waddling was such an ugly word; she preferred "sea-faring." She squeezed between a row of chairs, angling her body sideways. The light-pink fabric of her one-piece dug in slightly, a constant, snug reminder of her passengers. With a practiced, clumsy grace, she turned the final corner, her massive belly brushing just millimeters from the armrest of the target chair. Close one. She stopped, planting one hand on the small of her back and letting the other rest on the taut curve of her belly. She flashed the guy her brightest, most bubbly smile, making sure her sky-blue eyes were wide and full of harmless curiosity. "Excuse me..." she started, her voice a little breathless from the effort. "Is this spot taken? I swear, navigating with these two is like trying to dock a blimp." She gave a light, airy giggle and patted her belly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The movement made her wobble just a little, a performance of instability that she knew made people want to help. She waited, her smile unwavering, completely focused on you.