Memory is elusive at best, if I'm saying anything profound. You try to grab it and it skitters away from you and hides. And if the memory is of an event that is rare, maybe even unique, without context to solidify it, it fades after a while until it becomes unreal, a vaguely remembered dream. Such is my memory of Kate and that day on the beach in Maine.
I was staying by myself at the old family house on the shore, recovering from what used to be called a 'nervous breakdown' after my wife had been killed in a car accident. It was a retreat to youthful memories of better times, of growing up surrounded by people who loved me. It was a great place to recover. A big old Victorian house set back on a low hill overlooking the ocean, far enough north to be isolated from the tourists. I spent my days sitting on the porch, looking out over the water or patrolling the little strip of sandy beach, idly seeing what the tide had brought in the night before. Some days I'd pack lunch and a thermos of coffee and spend a few hours at the old beach house. The old weathered place stood on pilings and had a couple of small rooms and a veranda from which you could watch the waves crashing on a rocky jetty a little ways off. It needed work, and I kept promising myself to fix it up, but somehow the time was never quite right.
That afternoon I hadn't found anything of interest on the beach, though I kept my eyes focused on the sand. I belatedly realized that the wind had picked up and the sky was getting dark. I looked to the west and saw heavy thunderheads rising up into the afternoon sky. No time to make it back to the house. I picked up my pace and ducked into the beach house as the first few drops fell, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Knowing how these unexpected Maine storms could develop rapidly into something you didn't want to be out in, I closed the shutters and lit a kerosene lamp. I could hear the wind battering at the shutters and the rain hitting the roof. It felt good to be inside and safe.
I had just taken an old book down from the shelf to wait out the storm when there was a pounding on the door. Who in the hell could be out in this!
I quickly opened the door, admitting a blast of wind and rain, along with a very cold woman.
"Oh, thank God! I was afraid there'd be no-one here. I thought I saw a glimmer of light, but then it was gone."
"Easy, there. You're safe, now. What the hell were you doing out in this weather?"
She stood up. By the light of the lamp, I got my first good look at her. She was young, maybe in her twenties, dressed in a bikini. If she weren't so disheveled, she'd be quite beautiful. She had long blonde hair, now streaming with salt water. Her bikini bra did little to cover her generous breasts. I'd guessed that even without the bra they'd be spectacular, they looked so firm and well-molded. Her hips were nicely rounded, accentuating a trim waist. The tiny wisp of bikini bottom clung seductively to her rounded ass.
The male in me took in all these things at a single glance and started a train of thought that the civilized human in me quickly squelched. The poor kid was cold, wet, and miserable.
"Here, sit down a minute while I get you some towels and a dry robe or something."
I dashed to the bathroom and was back in a moment with dry things. She took the towels gratefully and dried herself off as best she could. I couldn't avoid staring at her breasts when she reached her arms up to dry her hair. I'm sure she saw me looking, but she chose to ignore it. I envied the towel as it rubbed down that luscious body.
"Thank you," she said. "My name's Kate. I'm sure you want to know how I came here."
"In a minute. You'd better get those wet things off. There's another robe in the bathroom you can use when you're dry."
She thanked me and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later she appeared in a new bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. My animal mind insisted on pointing out to me that she must be naked under the robe.
I poured her a cup of coffee from my thermos. She took it gratefully and sat next to me on the davenport. The wind was howling, now, the rain lashing the old cedar shingles and the thunder was very loud. We could hear the waves crashing. I wasn't worried, though, this old beach house had withstood worse in its time.
"You're going to think I'm stupid," she said. "I was out in a kayak. I had no idea there was a storm coming."
"No," I said, "I don't think you're stupid. I got caught in it too."
"That's kind of you to say. Still, I shouldn't have been out. When the wind hit and the waves started, I was sure I was going to drown. I barely made it to the beach. I tied my kayak to one of your supports the best I could and ran for your door. The kayak's probably gone by now. I'm still shaking."
Just then there was a mighty gust of wind, and the old house shook. Lightning flashed and thunder followed immediately. Involuntarily Kate lunged for me and hugged me. I could feel her breasts against me through the fabric of the robe. I couldn't help but think that a simple tug on the belt would open it up and free those lovely mounds.
