They tore at each other’s clothes, buttons flying and material ripping in the effort to feel the other’s skin against their own. He lifted her again and impaled her in haste with this throbbing sex, his hands on her hips. She rode him slowly, savoring each and every thrust. He hugged her so tight, she was afraid he might break her ribs. And as he climaxed deep inside her, her name became his song. She followed right after, her spasms his reward as they both collapsed on the bed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

There were no words to say. They took each other in, the unspoken declaration of love shining brightly in the room lit only by the light from the hallway. She couldn’t remember who finally gave the stare up to sleep, but it was almost as if fate was giving them this last time to hold on to.

Now all that was left was the memory.

Amanda continued to lie in the sand with her eyes closed even after the first drop of rain landed on her face. The day had started out overcast, the wind had started to kick up, and a storm was likely to hit the coast by nightfall. But she wasn’t ready to leave the daydream yet. As soon as she opened her eyes, it would disappear, and instead of being in Chase’s arms, she’d be alone again, on a beach with only infamy to keep her company. She’d have to return to the quagmire of regret and self-loathing she’d been stuck in for weeks without an end in sight.

Dear God, please help me.

Another drop hit her forehead, followed by a gust of something, but it didn’t smell like salty sea air. Amanda opened her eyes and two big brown eyes were staring back at her. She was nose to nose with a golden retriever with an apparent slobbering problem. One that she never heard approach to investigate her as she lay in the sand reliving the last time Chase took her and she dared to believe in storybook endings.

She yelped in surprise as she struggled to sit up and the dog jumped back several feet into the sand, as startled as she was. It began to wag its tail from its spot several feet away, its hind end up in the air and leaning on its front paws. The two regarded each other closely and the dog barked.

I’m going to be mauled by a wild dog, that’ll be a new one, Amanda said to herself, thinking that it was about time she somehow got hurt physically. Her penance would be that for all eternity, she would get hurt just thinking about him. It was actually a comforting thought, being put out of her misery.

“Bingo! Bad dog!” Amanda heard the reprimand from above her, and Bingo took off toward it.

The voice belonged to a woman. A woman Amanda had seen before who was now heading in her direction. She looked to be in her seventies and slender, wearing denim capris, a tank top with an opened button-down shirt as a cover-up, and white Keds canvas slip-ons. A big floppy straw hat covered her pulled-back gray hair.

“Sorry about that,” the woman said jovially as she joined Amanda.

“That’s okay,” Amanda said. “He just surprised me.”

“He’s harmless, but thinks he’s a cadaver hound,” the woman continued, and Bingo ran around her twice before bounding toward the water. “I know he should be on a leash, but by now it’s usually locals. Mind if I join you while he takes a swim? He can’t resist the sea foam that comes with the storms.”

“Not at all,” Amanda eagerly replied, thinking the timing couldn’t be better. Her own voice had begun to sound foreign.

“I’m Gertie,” the woman introduced herself as she gingerly sat down in the sand next to Amanda. “I think we’re neighbors. You’re in the Warren place, no?”

“Mandy,” Amanda said guardedly and with a stab of melancholy. There was only one person who ever called her Mandy, the final time he did was still fresh in her mind and saved on her phone. But she was supposed to be incognito. Small talk itself now presented a challenge. “I’m visiting.”

If Gertie sensed Amanda’s hesitancy, she didn’t let on. “You picked a good time if you’re looking for peace and quiet.”

“Hmmm,” Amanda agreed absently, trying to figure out if Gertie mentioned peace and quiet because she recognized her. She had been sitting in the same spot every day, even before the crowds thinned out. Having to second-guess every conversation for the rest of her life was going to be arduous.

They both continued to look out at the horizon, watching Bingo running along the shoreline, occasionally playing in the surf.

“This one’s coming in from the east,” Gertie said matter-of-factly.

“Should I be nervous?” Amanda asked.

“I don’t think so,” Gertie said reassuringly. “I haven’t floated away yet, and I’ve been here for fifteen years. They did have to drag me out during Hurricane Ophelia back in 2005 when I missed the evacuation warnings. I don’t watch much television.”

Amanda felt as if she’d been touched by an angel. Another random comment sent at a most opportune time. They wouldn’t be talking television. Her tension started to ease.

“That must have been harrowing,” Amanda said.

Gertie snorted with good humor. “Not really. I enjoy riding out a good hurricane. I think in my next life I’d like to be a storm chaser. I did feel bad about putting all those first responders at risk, though. Now they just call to make sure I’m okay and tell me if it looks like leaving is the smart choice. The locals are pretty tight-knit here.”

The sky got darker, and Bingo ran from the ocean and back to intermittently check on them. He was wet and full of sand and Gertie didn’t seem to care.

The more she talked and Amanda listened, it appeared there wasn’t a whole lot that Gertrude Millicent Bach got worked up about, ever. She had moved to the Outer Banks after retiring from her job as a labor room nurse and coming into a healthy inheritance from her mother.

“My mother was years ahead of her time,” Gertie said. “She up and left my father back when those things were seriously frowned upon. She was a real trailblazer. Moved me and my two brothers to a new town, started her own seamstress business, and taught us all to think for ourselves. It’s probably why I never married. I was having so much fun blazing my own trail, I didn’t want anyone getting in the way.”

“Any regrets?” a fascinated Amanda asked.

“Hell no, regrets are a waste of time.” Gertie laughed, then looked pensive. “But I will admit to this, watching a mother and father hold their newborn for the first time sometimes got to me. Not enough to make me go that route, mind you. I was a little too set in my ways to want to give up the freedom. Dogs seemed to feed my mothering urge well enough.”

As if on cue, Bingo ran back up to them. After giving Amanda another investigative sniff, he plopped down in the sand next to his owner.

“You all tuckered out, Bing?” Gertie said to the golden retriever, petting his wet head and asking, “How long you here for?”

It should’ve been a simple question, but nothing was simple anymore. Gertie certainly wasn’t prying. Amanda knew she couldn’t engage in a conversation and withhold information at the same time. She ached to take a step forward. If she really believed in divine intervention, then maybe this independent, spirited woman was sent to her in the effort to help Amanda reclaim her life. And while still hesitant, Amanda knew she had to start somewhere.

“I’m not really sure,” Amanda answered honestly, but before she could elaborate, the wind picked up and was accompanied by a clap of thunder.

“I’m thinking it’s time to get off this beach,” Gertie said while beginning to slowly rise. “Can I interest you in waiting out this storm over some coffee?”

Amanda jumped up and reached out to offer the older woman a hand.

“These old bones just aren’t what they used to be,” Gertie said into the now-howling wind and accepting the help. “Come on, I’m close by.”

Together Amanda, Gertie, and Bingo the dog walked the short distance to Gertie’s house, four houses away from where Amanda was staying. The rain began to fall but none of them rushed. Gertie even turned her face up to it, enjoying the feel of it. Amanda found herself doing the same, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt herself breaking away from the grip of self-loathing. She needed one more round of tears and the rain provided them.

Gertie’s house was cute and eclectically cheery, a small boxlike ranch. The closer they got, wind chimes hanging from the back porch clamored in the now-gusting wind and teeming rain. Gertie opened the unlocked door and invited Amanda in while she stayed behind to quickly towel off Bingo.

Once inside, Amanda was greeted by the scent of patchouli. The kitchen windowsill supported a planter of herbs—basil, dill, cilantro, and thyme. Seeing them reminded her of just how long it’d been since she thought about cooking. Plaques hung on the walls with sayings that read HAPPINESS IS AN INSIDE JOB and OF ALL THE THINGS I’VE LOST, I MISS MY MIND THE MOST.

The living room managed to look cozy despite the house’s open floor plan. There was an abundance of candles in all shapes and sizes in jars and holders. There were figurines of angels and Buddhas. Books were neatly stacked near a wing chair. Planters sat near or were hung from windows, beads dangling from them. Incense burners rested on the coffee table. Amanda smiled. She had been sent an intrinsic hippie.

And then Amanda began to frown. In the corner of the living room was a television. The all-too-familiar feeling of anxiety began to nudge her again. She wondered if there was any possible way to casually go and feel if it was still warm from recently being used.

Stop it, Amanda reprimanded herself, the woman has a television. Big deal, she says she doesn’t watch it.