Poolside at the End of Things

The pool water was that impossible blue that only exists in places where people have too much money and not enough to worry about. Mara sat on the edge, feet dangling in, watching her husband Marcus across the patio. He was laughing at something Lisa said—head thrown back, teeth flashing, that genuine laugh she used to think belonged only to her.

Lisa, her best friend since college. Lisa, who had started taking the same yoga class. Lisa, who now knew Marcus's coffee order by heart.

"You should try these new vitamins," Lisa had said last week, pressing a bottle into Mara's hand. "They changed everything for me."

Mara had been taking them for three weeks. They hadn't changed anything.

A fox darted through the hedge at the property line—sleek russet fur, alert ears. It paused, regarded Mara with ancient, calculating eyes, then vanished. The kind of creature that knew exactly what it wanted and how to get it.

Marcus was making his way toward her now, that careful look on his face—the one he wore when he was about to deliver news he thought would upset her. Had always upset her, until she stopped letting herself be upset. Now she just felt tired.

"Hey," he said, sitting beside her. "Lisa and I were talking about the fall trip. She wants to come along."

Mara turned to look at him. Really look at him, as if for the first time. The gray at his temples. The way his eyes didn't quite meet hers. The fact that she couldn't remember the last time he'd asked about her day.

"That's nice," she said. "She's good company."

He relaxed. The tension in his shoulders dropped. He hadn't wanted a fight.

"I was thinking," he continued, "maybe we should sell the place in Vermont. The bull market's holding, and we could use the liquid capital."

Vermont, where they'd spent their honeymoon. Where he'd promised her, wrapped in blankets against the mountain cold, that they'd grow old there.

"Sure," Mara said. "Whatever makes sense."

She pulled her feet from the water. The vitamin bottle sat on the small table beside her towel. She'd taken her dose this morning, would take another tomorrow. Small rituals of maintenance, acts of faith in a future she wasn't sure she wanted.

"You okay?" Marcus asked.

"Just tired," she said.

The fox reappeared at the edge of the pool, reflected in the water's surface—two foxes, one above, one below, both gone before she could tell which was real.

"I know," he said, already turning back toward Lisa. "Me too."