Chapter 8

August on Cape Cod -- love it or hate it -- is the definitive peak of the already peak summer season. Many of those fortunate enough to be able to afford it, rent cottages and homes for the entire month. In some cases, full-time residents move out of their homes for the month and make enough money just from an August rental to survive the glacial winter months. For most businesses, it's make or break. It's the last chance to make the big money and tide over a business until pretty much June of the next year. The 'shoulder' months -- April, May, September, and October -- are notably erratic from a money-making perspective. Weather has a big effect in those months and New England weather is ... well ... New England weather. The expression is, 'If you don't like it, wait a few minutes and it'll change.' Although hyperbole, some days you'd tend to agree with that assessment, even in summer. Anyone who has been caught unaware in a boat when a famous Cape Cod fog bank rolled in would not argue the point much.

The club's August business was much more stable. Most of the memberships were year-round residents -- albeit affluent ones -- or the equally well-heeled summer residents. The hotel was typically booked solid, sometimes years in advance, for August. The club had many August events planned for this period as well. Members-only cookouts. All-guest clambakes. Pool parties. The list went on. As such, there wasn't a lot of extra free time. That three-day holiday at the end of July was a distant memory for Molly and me after only the first week of August.

Things didn't tend to improve as the month went on. Because the club hired mostly college students, some of them would need to leave by the third or fourth week of August. This sometimes left businesses short-staffed during the time that they could least afford it. The problem could usually be made up for and the club typically planned pretty well, but often a few kids would have changes of school or plans and need to leave sooner. There was also the inevitable attrition in staff as a few kids were fired each summer for repeated tardiness or other infractions. Some would intentionally get fired towards the end of summer so that they could have a week or two of 'vacation' before school started. This was my fifth summer. I knew how the game was played.

Thankfully, Louise and her staff had done a pretty great job both hiring and planning this summer. There had been only one firing and only two changes of plans in departure dates that I knew of. One girl had her parents gift her with a week in Europe (much like Molly's vacation earlier in the summer) and was leaving during the second week. She was kind of a princess anyways, and no one would really miss her style of 'work', which mostly consisted of letting everyone else cover for her as much as she could get away with. Her parents were club members, so it was a tricky situation for management. The next year, I heard they instituted a policy forbidding club members or their immediate family from working for the club. Probably a wise choice if this girl's work ethic was any indication. Molly's family were affluent enough to join, but they belonged to a yacht club in town instead and didn't have much need for the beach club, it's access to the sound beaches or pools. They had all that in spades right in their back yard.

The middle of August came without much fanfare. The weather was good so far for the month and Molly and I continued to spend as much time together as possible. We had managed to stay on the same schedule all summer and that held true in August, at least through the first two weeks. The staff was very kind to both Molly and me in this regard and knew we were dating. This courtesy was also a testament to my and Molly's work habits. Had we been troublesome or too distracted to work together professionally, I'm sure they would have separated us in the schedule. I was pretty proud that we were able to date and work together and still maintain the respect of Louise and the other managers. It was my last summer at the club with almost 100% certainty, but I wanted to go out well-liked and respected. There was a remote chance that I'd be back if job prospects weren't there after graduation and I wasn't the type to burn bridges. A good reference, even as a waiter, was better than no reference at all.

There weren't any awesome new sexual experiences in the first two weeks of August, but Molly and I continued to find time to make love regularly. Sometimes it was frantic and hurried in the cab of my pickup. Other times, it was more leisurely and languid in her room on the rare occasion that her house was empty. My parents worked all summer and vacationed in the off-season, so there wasn't any time to be had at my house. Molly's parents spent a lot more time on the Cape in August -- like so many others -- so we found ourselves with a lot less privacy. Her folks also entertained a lot more in August and there were often at least one group of house guest floating around. On one occasion, while trying to find a little quiet time in the poolside cabana, Molly and I had to scramble for our swimsuits and apologize to Molly's father's business partner and his too-young bride when they caught us indisposed. She wasn't much old than we were, and I think she understood. I think they had the same general idea as us when they headed for the cabana. Molly's father -- thankfully -- laughed it off when Molly told him the story. I was mortified and beet-faced while she told it, but he seemed unperturbed. I guess that was a clear sign that he either liked me or trusted his daughter. I hoped it was either the former or equal parts both and not just the latter.

During the third week of August, tragedy struck the club. Cape Cod weathered a near miss by a hurricane. During the days leading up to the storm, the ocean was angry. The skies remained fairly clear and bright -- typical August beach weather. The wind wasn't really an issue, either, until the storm hit, but the surf kicked up well in advance of the coast-scraping storm and began to make the water treacherous. Things got out of control about twelve hours before the storm was due to make its closest pass. In a deadly turn of events, the area towns and safety officials finally agreed to close the beaches on the south and east-facing coast of the Cape and Islands, but it turned out to be just a few hours too late.

Jim Daniels, one of the lifeguards at the club, was killed making a rescue the morning before the storm. The club had allowed a few small Sunfish sailboats to be used by some of the more experienced day sailors in the membership. The skies were clear and the wind wasn't really what one would expect ahead of a hurricane, but the seas were high. One of the small boats capsized in the early afternoon, and Jim apparently swam out to assist the boaters. Neither had been wearing life vests -- foolish in that kind of boat even in good conditions -- and Jim swam out to them with two vests while they tried to right the boat. Apparently they weren't as experienced as they said they were and were having difficulty getting it upright. They shouldn't have been on the water at all in those conditions. For that matter, boats much larger in size were staying put that day. Jim made the rescue and got both people into vests, but a large wave caught the boat at the wrong time and in the wrong position. It was thrown over a wave violently and, according to the two people rescued, it struck Jim on his upper body. Apparently, the boat's hull hit him in the back of the head. The eventual coroner's report listed the cause of death as blunt force trauma; he was killed instantly as they found no water in his lungs. I found all this out much later from police officer who was a friend of the family. The Harwich harbormaster's boat rescued the two foolhardy club members about ten minutes after Jim was hit and disappeared under the waves. The Coast Guard recovered his body about six hours later just before the worst of the storm began to roll in.

Jim's girlfriend, Elise, was devastated. They had emerged as one of the steady couples in an environment of frequent one-night-stands and even more frequent 'friends with benefits' relationships. Molly had gotten very close to Elise over the summer and I liked her a lot, too. She was going to be a senior at Boston University in the fall and worked very hard. She was at school on an academic scholarship and still found time to maintain her grades and be a star member of the Terrier's track team. At the club, she was always there helping others and had a grace about her that belied her years. She seemed much more mature than your average 21-year-old college student. Jim had also attended BU, but they had only met this summer. They were both looking forward to spending their last year in school together.

Because the hurricane was due to make such a close pass to the Cape, the club was forced to suspend operations. They managed to get dinner served the night of Jim's tragic death, but the mood was somber and the weather matched everyone's mood. Word had spread among the members and guests and most had watched the search-and-rescue operations from the beach. Coast Guard boats, helicopters and a Falcon jet had all braved the oncoming storm hoping against hope to find Jim alive. The dining room was eerily quiet and the band was even given the night off. It didn't seem appropriate and everyone understood. The guests and members were extra kind and understanding of any foul-ups and many reservations for dinner were canceled outright. Elise was, of course, given the night off. They weren't sure she would return to work at all.

Dark clouds had rolled in around sunset and the wind had picked up dramatically. The rain hadn't started yet, but it wasn't far away if the weathermen were right. The storm wasn't expected to make direct landfall, but it would skirt close enough to the Cape to ruin most vacationers days the next day. Some of the wind and rain might linger for as long as two days as it was a large, slow-moving storm and was expected to cause a lot of erosion damage. The club was expected to be closed for at least the next day and would somehow serve the guests that remained as well as it could. Managers were called in from days off and some staff were asked to stay in the hotel to provide some services to guests. Widespread power outages were expected and some guests actually cut their vacations short to avoid putting their families in harm's way.

Dinner ended mercifully early and I insisted that Molly let me take her home. The rain had started in earnest by then. There was no way she could ride her bike in the weather and the storm had come up so quickly, she hadn't made other arrangements or brought a family car. We had spent most of the lunch shift helping other staff to storm-proof the outdoor patio and pool areas. When the tragedy began to unfold, none of us would leave the property. The club understood and served us dinner and found spare uniforms for anyone needing them. At the staff dinner, there weren't many strong appetites on display.

After clearing the final tables, we ran through the rain, threw Molly's bike into the bed of my truck, and headed for her house.

She suddenly burst into tears as she sat next to me, my arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. She had been so strong all day, but had finally broken down. I wasn't doing much better. Jim and I hadn't worked together directly, but we had spent a lot of time at the beach and at parties together and Elise had become a true friend to Molly and me.

"We've got to go to Elise's place, sweetie," Molly sobbed as we drove.

"OK," I said numbly. "I'll try to make it there." The rain was pouring down as one of the leading rain bands from the storm had moved in. Some of the catch basins were overwhelmed and ponding on the roads was a problem. Elise lived in a small, one-bedroom cottage down a winding dirt path. That path was liable to be a muddy mess. Thankfully the Cape's soil is very sandy and there typically isn't much threat of flooding, but this much rain was still going to make things messy even on those roads with good drainage. Some of these cottage roads, particularly those affordable by working college students during the summer, were pretty rough. Thank goodness we were in my truck.

"She's all alone," Molly continued to cry. I assumed she meant with Jim gone and looked at her sadly. "No," she said, "you don't understand me. Her roommate was Claudia. She went back to school a few days ago. She's in her rental with the love of her life dead and she's all alone in a hurricane! We have to make it!" Molly was nearly screaming as she said the last line and then collapsed into my shoulder, her sobbing wracking her whole body.

With a little extra care, we made it to Elise's cottage. Molly looked at me and her crying stopped. She got another one of those looks in her eyes and her mood changed from sorrow to determination. "Thank you," she said. "Now let's go get her out of there. We have to make her come back to my house. It's safer and she'll be among friends. You should probably stay, too. Driving's not going to be safe for much longer and I might need your help with Elise."

I was worried about my family, but our house was pretty well protected from weather and wasn't near the shore. I wasn't so sure about Molly's house right on Nantucket Sound as it was, but it was well-built and relatively new. At this point, I wasn't so sure we'd make it to her house safely, nevermind the few more minutes it would take me to get to my own home on a good night.

Molly went right through the front door of Elise's without knocking. I followed and we found Elise huddled on her bed. Thunder and lightning was heard and seen occasionally now -- what next, I thought -- and each crackle and flash caused Elise to shake or start.

"He's gone, Molly," she cried. "Is he really gone?"

"He is, Elise," Molly answered. "I'm so sorry. But you've got to come with us. You can't stay here alone with this storm coming."

"Storm?" Elise asked, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. "Oh ... yeah ... OK." She was an automaton and she pointed out the few things that Molly asked her for. A few changes of clothes and a few other basics. Elise was still wearing her club uniform from when she was sent home. I wondered how she actually got home and resolved to ask Molly later.

"OK," Molly said to me, "Whatever we don't have, I have spares of. Let's get her -- and us -- out of here and to someplace warmer and safer."

I suddenly realized that it was abnormally cold for an August night. The storm must have been pulling cold air in or perhaps it was just the wind and rain making it feel colder. The one advantage of living in the Northeast during storms like this is that they did tend to run into cooler water and lose a little of their steam. They were usually moving pretty quickly, too, which meant they were over sooner. This storm was forecast to weaken some in cold North Atlantic waters, but it was also slowing and would affect the area for a couple of days.

Molly and I led Elise to the truck and put her into the passenger side. She didn't seem to notice the rain, even as it drenched her uniform. We closed her in and ran around to the other side of the truck, both getting into the driver's side. In just that short time, we were both even more wet than Elise, and our clothes hung to us uncomfortably. The dry things we had grabbed for Elise were soaked, too. I was dressed just in a t-shirt and my black work pants. Molly still had her uniform on. Our clothes dripped. I cranked the heater up -- in August -- to try to make us more comfortable. The rain was unnaturally cold, it seemed.

On a good day, Molly's house was probably only ten minutes from Elise's cottage. On this night, fighting my way through wind and rain, it took me well over a half-hour to navigate us back. A few tree limbs had come down. They missed the power lines, thankfully, but in one case had completely blocked a main street. The detour took us another ten minutes. The rain was coming down in horizontal streets and my wipers and headlights seemed to be having little effect. When I finally pulled up close to Molly's front door, giving us a mercifully short run through the downpours, I breathed a sigh of relief. My hands actually hurt from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I knew trying to make it to my own house would be foolish, and resigned to stay at Molly's. Not that she would have given me much choice.

We once again got out the driver's side and ran around to the passenger's side. What little drying had happened with my heater going full blast was ruined seconds after we left the safety of the truck's cab. We grabbed Elise gingerly and shepherded her quickly into Molly's house. Molly's mother, Heather, met us at the door.

"I was worried sick, Molly," she said full of concern. "You should have been home an hour ago. I called the club."

"Sorry, Mom," Molly said. "We had to go get Elise. She's all alone. We couldn't make her wait out this storm like that."

"Oh ... you poor dear," Heather said. "You're..." She stopped short when she realized what she was about to say.

Elise looked at her blankly, but in a moment of clarity seemed to realize where she was and why. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"It's not a problem at all, dear," Heather said, her eyes getting misty. "As long as you need, you're welcome here." She looked at me. "I insist that you stay as well, young man. You're quite the hero for rescuing these two. I'll help Molly find some warm and dry things for Elise. I'm sure we have some dry clothes for you as well. You're nearly the same size as Molly's father anyway. You'll stay with Molly and Elise in her room. No argument."

"Yes, ma'am," I said blankly. "The 'rescue' was all Molly's idea, though. I didn't even realize Elise was in her rental alone," I offered. I was a little ashamed of myself and didn't want to take credit for my supposed knight-in-shining-armor bit.

"Nonesense," she argued. "You got them both here safe and sound in a hurricane, for heaven's sake."

"Yes, ma'am." I was done arguing.

Looking at me and indicating Elise, Molly's mother said, "Take her upstairs, get her out of those wet clothes, and get her into a hot shower. Molly ... help me for a few minutes. We'll collect some dry clothes and you can bring them up."

"Shouldn't Molly do the shower..." I started to argue, but my question trailed off as I was given 'the look' by both women and decided to comply, despite my own discomfort at the idea.

I led the zombie-like Elise upstairs through Molly's room and into the bathroom she shared with Elizabeth. She had slipped back into a semi-catatonic state where she could move and follow directions, but not much else. We were both still dripping from the rain. And we were both cold. I wasn't sure how to get Elise into the shower like this and still remain somewhat gentlemanly, but decided to screw decorum and just get her warm. I stripped myself down to my boxers and managed to get Elise out of her sopping wet club-issue uniform. Even in her bedraggled and mournful state, she was still a beautiful girl: tall, lean, and very athletic. I was embarrassed that my body reacted to her knowing that her boyfriend -- and my friend -- was dead less than twelve hours. I pulled myself together and led her gently to the shower. She was still in her bra and panties, but they were wet and nearly see-through. I resolved to wait for Molly to completely strip her.

Elise was oblivious to the fact that she was nearly naked in my arms. When the hot water of the shower hit her, she seemed to perk up just a bit, but she was still barely functioning and although I suggested she grab the washcloth or soap, she either wasn't hearing me or wasn't functional enough. I wondered where Molly was, praying for some help and uncomfortable with Elise alone in the shower. Not hearing any help coming, I grabbed the washcloth and got it good and soapy. I pushed Elise completely under the shower, letting the hot water wash over her head and wet her short-cropped blond hair. I used the washcloth to wash her gently. Her white bra and panties were invisible now anyway and were making the washing process difficult, so I decided to remove them. Molly was sure to be upset with me -- I thought -- if I didn't. It made washing her easier and I did it with as much clinical detachment as I could manage. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that seeing her there naked brought back memories of Elise strutting her stuff in a sexy nurse's outfit in that strip club on Molly's birthday and the subsequent limo orgy. The thoughts included Jim, though, smiling up at her on stage and the two of them enjoying each other carnally in the back of that limo. I was aroused and saddened and confused all at the same time.

I washed her for another minute before Molly finally arrived in the bathroom. She was still soaking wet and shivering, and she started to strip immediately. Seeing my state of arousal and the look of sadness and guilt on my face, she just smiled. "It's OK, sweetie. You'd have to be dead not to react like that. She's beautiful. She's crushed and sad beyond words, but she's beautiful."

Molly wanted me to continue, so I washed Elise's hair, careful to keep the soap out of her eyes. She was just staring at me or Molly blankly. Molly was now nude and had pulled off my boxers. They were now at the bottom of the large walk-in shower with Elise's bra and panties. Molly's clothes were in a similarly wet pile just outside the shower.

We stayed in the water for a long time, trying to get the chill of the rain and wind out of our bones. Elise just stood where we put her. I stayed mostly hard, but Molly and I just washed each other. Our bodies might have been aroused, but our minds were a million miles away. Just before turning off the water, Molly pulled Elise into a warm, wet hug. They looked lovely together, but my heart ached. Molly saw my discomfort and pulled me into the hug. Elise began to cry softly. It was the first emotion I'd seen from her since we pulled her from her cottage. The soft cry turned into wracking sobs and Molly and I escorted her from the shower, toweling her off between bouts of crying and finally wrapping her in a warm, terrycloth robe. Her head was wrapped in a towel, even though her short hair was nearly dry just from the toweling. Molly and I dried each other and put on robes as well. The robes helped hide a little of my embarrassment and discomfort, but I was still kicking myself for being unable to control my reactions.

I did some of my penance by picking up all the wet clothes and bringing them down to Heather. She took them from me and sensing my discomfort and my need for distraction asked, "Is she OK?"

"I don't really know. I don't think so. She's barely with us. Completely distant." I wasn't really speaking in full sentences either as the shock of the day's events seemed to finally catch up with me fully. "How do you recover from this?" I asked no one in particular.

"Time heals," Heather said and walked off with the wet laundry. Over her shoulder she said, "Go back to them. Molly will need your help. Elise might, too. You're a stronger and better young man than you're giving yourself credit for right now."

I smiled weakly and said, "Thank you."

Upstairs things hadn't changed much. Elise was still crying and in Molly's arms, but they were now sitting on the end of Molly's big bed. It was now fully dark outside and the storm seemed to still be getting stronger. Rain pelted the windows and the house creaked a bit with each gust of wind. The lights flickered a few times and I was glad we had finished our shower before being caught in the bathroom without light. Molly and Elise seemed to be alright, so I went downstairs again and asked if there were any candles or lanterns. Heather rummaged around in a storage closet and came back with several. We lit a few to leave in the kitchen and I took the matches and a couple of hurricane lanterns and tealight candles upstairs with me. I lit them and put them on each nightstand. I lit a final one and put it into the bathroom.

As I exited the bathroom, the lights flickered again and went out completely. I yelled down to Molly's mother to ensure she was OK. She answered that she was fine and was going to her room to read and go to bed early. Everything that could be done to prepare for the storm had already been done. Now we just needed to ride it out.

When I returned to Molly's room, she and Elise were under the covers. They had removed their robes and were naked, but burrowed under a summer comforter. Elise was still sobbing and hugging Molly to her. Molly motioned to me to lose my robe and join them. I had been distracted enough to lose my erection finally, but jumping into bed behind Molly started up my problem again. This wasn't the time or the place, so I resigned myself to falling asleep -- or trying to -- with my hard cock comfortably nestled between Molly's ass cheeks. There were certainly worse ways to fall asleep.

Elise basically cried herself to sleep. It took the better part of an hour and her cries ranged from gentle sobs to violent wailing. Molly held her through it all, and I held Molly gently trying to give her some of what little remained of my own strength. Eventually, Elise's reserves ran out and she fell asleep. It was a restless sleep, but at least she was getting a little. I guessed that she wouldn't sleep well for many weeks to come, but she was with friends tonight and wasn't trapped alone in a small cottage in a hurricane.

After Elise collapsed, Molly managed to maintain contact with her but turned around to face me. Elise stirred a little but spooned in behind Molly and hugged her in her sleep. I turned as well and let Molly spoon with me. I heard Molly's quiet breathing as she fell asleep. It took me much longer to fall asleep. I was worn out -- mostly mentally -- but my mind wouldn't let me go. I kept wondering how an athletic guy like Jim could be taken by a stupid Sunfish and a wave. I wondered how Elise would get by. I wondered what would happen to Molly if something like that happened to me. A random event, snuffing me out before I had a chance to finish my life. Sleep eventually came, but it was fitful at best.

During the night, the power must have come back on. The storm was still raging outside and I heard the wind howling and the rain still pelting against the windows. It sounded like sand was also being kicked around and thrown against the house and windows. The light in the bathroom had woken me.

We had shut off everything but that light when the power went out, but it was now blazing a beam across my face. It's brightness was almost painful. I felt a sudden urge to take a piss as well. I got up and went into the bathroom to find the offending sunbeam and shut it off so that I could return to bed, but instead I found Elise just finishing up on the toilet. She was still naked. Embarrassed, I turned around quickly.

"It's OK," she said quietly, her voice still raspy and weak from all the crying she had done. "The light woke me up, too. I was afraid the power would go out and leave me in the dark, so I left the door open. The lamps are still burning out there, but this one went out."

It was more words than I'd heard her string together all day. She sounded shaky, but at least she was no longer catatonic. I heard her flush and realized I was still standing in the doorway. I was still naked, too. I moved slightly back into Molly's bedroom and heard her wash her hands. She came out of the bathroom and instead of running for the bed, she came up behind me.

Elise turned me around and hugged me tightly. She was warm and soft and still smelled of the shower and I hugged her back awkwardly, trying to keep myself in control. "Thank you," she said and broke the hug reluctantly. She smiled weakly at me and pointed to the bathroom. "Did you need it?"

I nodded. Thankfully I had remained mostly limp. This had two advantages. One ... I didn't make an ass of myself by getting a hard-on in front of my dead's friend's grieving girlfriend. Two ... I could still take a piss comfortably. I used the bathroom quickly and found a new tealight to set into the lamp in the bathroom, lighting it with the matches I had left. I turned out the light and went back into Molly's room to check the lamps in there. They were both very low, so I found new candles for them and re-lit them. The power grid probably wasn't stable and I wanted to be sure Molly had light if she needed to get up during the night. A digital clock on Molly's nightstand was flashing 12:00, but a watch on Molly's dresser showed it to be about 2:30 AM.

As I headed back towards the bed, I noticed Elise still standing there watching me. "Would you hold me?" she asked pitifully. "I feel so alone right now."

I nodded, silently praying that I could continue to maintain decorum. She pointed to the bed and I got in. Molly had drifted over slightly in the empty bed and as I entered the bed next to her, she groaned a little but didn't wake up. She draped and arm over me and down my leg. She was still toasty warm from the bed, but I tried to ignore how good she felt as she cuddled up behind me.

My aforementioned attempt at decorum took a fatal hit when Elise got into bed. She faced away from me, but she snuggled back into me and I was sandwiched between her and Molly. At another time, I'm sure I would have welcomed this, but my mind was wrestling with the guilt even as my cock started to harden. Elise grabbed my left arm and pulled it over her, hugging it to her chest and sighing gently. She either didn't notice my erection as it settled gently into her butt crack or didn't care. I'm sure it was the latter. She was asleep again almost instantly, though, so I could at least stew in my embarrassment alone. It again took me a long time to fall asleep.