Poolside Confessions

Maria adjusted her oversized sunglasses as she watched her husband Mark across the pool, laughing too loudly at someone's joke. The afternoon sun beat down on her sister's backyard gathering, but Maria felt cold inside.

"You've been staring at that same **vitamin** D supplement bottle for twenty minutes," Elena said, sliding into the lounge chair beside her. "Are you actually going to take it, or is it just a prop in your personal drama?"

Maria twisted the plastic bottle in her hands. "My doctor says I'm deficient. Says that's why I'm tired all the time. But I think the exhaustion might be emotional."

"Mark again?" Elena had been her college roommate and maid of honor, the kind of **friend** who knew exactly when to press and when to retreat.

"He's been coming home late from work. Smelling like citrus and expensive perfume." Maria's voice caught. "Last week, I found a receipt for jewelry I've never seen."

Elena's silence stretched between them, comfortable and companionable. Across the yard, someone's golden retriever bounded toward the **water**, barking joyfully as it launched itself into the pool. The dog's owner—Mark's new business partner—laughed as he splashed after it.

"Remember when we went **swimming** in that lake in Vermont senior year?" Elena asked suddenly. "When you got your period unexpectedly and I had to lend you my sweatshirt?"

Maria smiled despite herself. "You told me nobody would notice. Then we walked back to campus with you practically carrying me because I was cramping so bad."

"That's what friends do." Elena reached over and squeezed her hand. "And that's why you need to talk to Mark. Whatever is happening, you can't just keep... dissolving like those vitamins in your hand."

The retriever shook itself violently near them, spraying droplets onto their legs. Mark glanced over, caught Maria's eye, and offered a small, cautious wave. Maria swallowed hard, opened the vitamin bottle, and dry-swallowed two pills.

"You're right," she said, standing up. "I'm done drowning in the shallow end."