there's so much traffic he can hardly move, and worse, when he gets to the restaurant, theone with the buckets of mussels, it's gone.“Can you believe this?” He bangs on the steering wheel, and Helen looks at himlike she can’t believe it either.But then it hits him. “Today isn't today, is it?” Helen shakes her head.Albert parks by the beach and buys a tub of fries for lunch. He walks up and downthe boardwalk, but it's just not the same. He tries to put his arm around Helen but he can'ttouch her, and when he asks her what she thinks about Ocean City, about him, aboutanything, she has no voice to answer.He plants himself on the sand for sunset, and as the daylight fades away, so doesHelen. So Albert drives back home alone.The next morning, Helen is in his bed again, smiling, nodding. So Albert drives back to Ocean City, and just like the night before, the condos, the restaurants, the traffic,it’s all wrong.All of Ocean City must think he's a buffoon, the way the weekender families andthe sandy brown locals watch him pump gas with a ghost in his front seat.When Albert gets back to Virginia and pulls into his driveway, it's night timeagain, and Helen is gone. Before he goes to bed, he finds the letter that Helen left himamong her things, and he lays it on the pillow next to him as a reminder.It's Monday morning, and Albert remembers everything. He almost laughs athimself, relieved that he won't be driving to Ocean City just to jog his memory. Instead,he looks forward to toast and eggs and maybe a walk to work if it’s nice out.
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