Jake was being weird to her now, or maybe he’d just gotten too drunk, too. Instead of bantering, he just nodded in response to things she said and looked over at Yvette, as if for confirmation. He seemed into her, and maybe he hoped Leslie would take Marlon out of the picture. Or maybe he and Marlon had agreed to trade women while she was out of earshot. An exchange of cargo, like in the Iliad. Marlon and Yvette were currently giggling at each other, her sitting on the edge of the pool in her tiny white bikini, all lines and angles, him floating in the pale light, facing her. Leslie was submerged up to her shoulders and starting to feel too hot. When she looked at Yvette, took in her unbearable lightness, she felt like an inflatable pool toy. There was a crew of boisterous family members in the shallow end blasting Journey songs from a boom box. Jake kept going underwater, sinking to the bottom of the pool, and then bursting rapidly up to the surface. It was startling and unattractive. Alamo raced along the edge of the pool, barking every time anyone bobbed too close to Jake.

“I think I’m happy,” Yvette said, as if someone had asked. “I countenance my surroundings, and I formulate an emotional state. It’s a two-step solution.”

“It’s not required,” Marlon said.

“Yeah, I know,” Yvette said. “That’s a good thing to remember. You get to feeling like you have to account for everything. You’ve been married, Mar. You don’t have anything to talk about so you spend all your time, like, explaining exactly how you arrived in your emotional state. Because if it’s for some unacceptable reason, that’s apparently something your husband needs to know about.”

“You’re married?” Leslie said. She floated closer.

“I’m separated. Very separated. I’d say, if you’re thinking about getting married? Just, like, have a drink and read a book by yourself for a couple hours. See how good it feels.”

This was, by a long shot, the most focused Yvette had been all night.

“I wish my ex had wanted to read,” Marlon said. “I’d have been, like, full speed ahead, baby.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s the thing. Your husband always wants you to do the opposite of what you do want to do. If I’d wanted to go to the farmers’ market, or whatever the fuck your Katie was always doing, Zachary would’ve wanted me to stay home and read a book.”