It was a cloudless day toward the middle of August, the wind light and out of the southeast, the water clear as glass. Down on Fred Benson Beach nearly all of the umbrellas were rented out already, and two-thirds of the boogie boards. It was amazing how quickly people forgot there had been a storm.

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t have cried,” said Bridget. “Obviously he felt responsible. So on top of the grief, there was all of that guilt. I’m just saying it’s a disconcerting thing to watch. That’s all. It was so raw. I can’t get it out of my head, the sound of it.”

In her own head Pauline began composing the email to Leona. Checked in with Bridget! she’d write. All seems well. We’re about cleaned up from the storm. “Well, you’re going to have to get it out of your head and move on,” she said aloud. “You’ve got to be to work in half an hour, right?”

Bridget seemed not to have heard her. “It was just over a week ago. Isn’t that hard to believe?” Bridget pressed her palms into the table and regarded Pauline seriously. “You have to admit, it’s hard to believe.”

Pauline shrugged. Except for the flooding out on Corn Neck Road, really this storm hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. Though it seemed like it had come out of nowhere, that was true. For that, people blamed global warming, or they blamed the new president, or they blamed the capricious nature of this particular storm, which had changed direction at the last minute, barreling toward the island without so much as a by-your-leave. Even so, this was nothing like Hurricane Bob, in ’91. That had really been something. Pauline said as much to Bridget.

Bridget giggled. “I wasn’t even born until ’94!”

Pauline snorted. The fact that somebody who was born in 1994 was old enough to be headed to graduate school and hold down a job was just ridiculous. How old Pauline was getting!

Bridget’s face turned serious again. “It’s just that I’d never seen a dead body before,” she said. “I mean, at a wake, sure. But a recently dead body. That I had never seen. I guess that’s why I can’t get it out of my head. It was just—life, and then no life. Just like that.” She shuddered. “No matter what anyone did or tried to do. The life was just gone.”

Pauline took a bite of her whoopie pie. Raspberry cream. It was tasty, but this far into the summer Pauline really started looking forward to the fall, when the flavors got more interesting. Pumpkin spice, gingerbread, apple cinnamon. In Pauline’s opinion, everything got more interesting in the fall.

“I mean, Pauline, who comes to a summer vacation place and expects to die?”

Pauline regarded Bridget. Her face was so open and unsullied. There was so much ahead of her: she had so much to learn.

“Who ever expects to die, anytime?” she asked.