There she goes, Tommy said. Talking about something foreign to her. An outstretched truth. Exaggerations, he told Stanley at the party. She does this every time, he said. Gets drunk, and then it all comes out. One fictitious story after another. He shook his head and popped open another  beer. Makes you wonder. He took a swig. What makes her do this? At home, she’s quiet as a mouse. A real good woman. Runs that house like a machine. Cooks, cleans, gets the kids off to school. Kisses me goodbye in the morning. Says, have a nice day. Real pleasant like. Then I bring her to one of these gatherings, and she unloads with lies. Benny laughed. He, too, opened another beer as folks around the trailer at lot 55 listened to Joan talk about Tom.

The smell of burnt hotdogs filled the industrial air above the trailer park. Men tried to tune her out while wives and daughters listened like she was Jesus on the Mount. A real savior to them all.

And then he makes me wash his clothes, she said. Puts them in a big pile on the washer. Says he needs his work clothes done pronto. Shit stains in underwear. Smelly shirts. Pants with grease all over them. And he expects me to clean them all up. Wants me to scrub them with a brush, Joan professed. I just do it. No questions asked. 

So do I, Joan, a couple of housewives yelled. So do I.

Some kind of rally going on, Tom, Stanley said with a laugh. But she’s ruining the party. Turning this into a women’s lib sort of thing. Take her home, Tom. Time she goes.

Another thing he makes me do is have sex all the time. Sometimes, he hits me. Now I know the Bible says to please your man, but this here is too much, she told her legion. Tired of it all. Just tired.

She walked off towards the lake. Walked out in the water. Women followed her and watched as she slowly submerged herself in the water, then came up a new woman. A woman who was ready to move on with her life. One who had had enough.

Come in, she said. The water’s fine.