Goldfish at the Hotel Pool

The margarita was terrible — too much sour mix, not enough forgiveness — but Marcia drank it anyway. She sat at the edge of the hotel pool, legs dangling in the chlorinated water, watching her husband across the courtyard. He was leaning against the rental car door, laughing with his assistant, the one with the ambitious smile and questionable boundaries.

Marcia reached into her bag and pulled out the orange she'd taken from the complimentary fruit bowl. She peeled it slowly, the citrus scent cutting through the smell of sunscreen and impending divorce. Her mother had always said you could tell everything about a person by how they peeled an orange. Derek peeled his in one long, continuous strip, careful, methodical, like surgery. Marcia tore at hers in jagged chunks, letting the juice run down her wrists.

"You going to eat that?" A woman in a black swimsuit sat beside her. She looked like Marcia felt — hollowed out, swimming in something too small.

Marcia handed her a segment. "Help yourself."

"Thanks." The woman chewed thoughtfully. "My son used to love oranges. He's seven now. Lives in Ohio with his dad and his new wife. They bought him a baseball glove for his birthday. Little League." She laughed, but it was short, brittle. "I haven't seen him hit a ball in three years."

Marcia nodded. "We sold our house. The new owners wanted to fill in the koi pond. Something about safety regulations." She thought of the goldfish they'd buried beneath the maple tree three years ago when the pond filter failed overnight. Derek had dug the holes, methodical, efficient. He'd cried once, briefly, then gone back inside to answer emails.

"You ever feel like a goldfish?" the woman asked quietly. "Swimming in circles, forgetting what you saw three seconds ago, trapped in this glass bowl where everyone watches you perform tricks?"

Marcia looked at Derek again. He was checking his phone, missing the way his assistant touched his arm.

"Every single day," Marcia said.

They sat together as the sun went down, two strangers sharing an orange by a hotel pool, while somewhere in Ohio, a boy learned to swing a bat, and goldfish swam forgotten circles in a pond that no longer existed.