Surface Tension

The pool water shimmered with that artificial, chlorinated blue that only exists in the backyards of people who have made it. Or appeared to. Eleanor sat on the ledge, legs submerged, watching her iphone screen reflect fractured light across the water's surface. Three missed calls from David. Her thumb hovered over the redial button, but she didn't press it. Not yet.

"You've got something..." Marcus gestured to his own teeth.

Eleanor's hand flew to her mouth. "Spinach. From the hors d'oeuvres."

"Gone."

His smile was too kind. That was the problem with Marcus—he saw too much, or at least saw things she'd rather keep unseen. They'd been working together eighteen months, this account theirmake-or-break, their promotion in waiting. Tonight was supposed to be celebration. The client had signed. Instead she'd slipped out here with a glass of white wine that had gone warm in the humidity.

"You okay?" He settled beside her, fully dressed, tie already loosened.

"Just thinking about how everyone in there is pretending." She nodded toward the house where laughter spilled through sliding doors. "Pretending their marriages work. Pretending they're not one quarter away from disaster. Pretending they know what they're doing."

"We signed the account, El. That's real."

"Is it?" She set the iphone on the concrete between them, screen down. "David wants another baby. I can barely keep my head above the ones we have." She hadn't meant to say it. The words fell out like objects dropped in deep water, sinking quickly.

Marcus was quiet for a long moment. The pool filter hummed its steady, artificial heartbeat. "My wife left me last month."

Eleanor turned to him sharply.

"I haven't told anyone at work. Didn't want the pity looks, the questions." He stared at the water. "She said I was married to the job. That I gave all my passion to spreadsheets and client presentations and had nothing left for her."

The silence stretched between them, heavy and honest.

"The spinach," Eleanor said finally, "was the only real thing about this evening."

Marcus laughed, startled and genuine. "What?"

"It was messy. It was unflattering. It was true."

Her iphone buzzed. David again. She let it ring.

"You know what I need?" Eleanor stood. "To jump in this pool. Fully clothed."

Marcus looked at his designer suit. Then at her.

"Last one in buys the next round."

They hit the water together, smartphones and mortgages and expectations momentarily submerged, surfacing gasping and alive, their carefully curated lives dripping away into something that felt, for the first time in years, like truth.