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Try something completely new to shake up the routine. We embrace the idea and travel to a hip new hotel with groovy rooms and an odd-shaped pool. Music plays softly from hidden speakers, muffling the human conversations, and we like that part. The rooms feature record players and actual vinyl records displayed on shelves with a few selected books. There is a vintage woody station wagon parked out front, suggesting the Beach Boys. Wine is available at 5:30 p.m.

“The colors in the rooms are very cool,” Mel says.

“I love the albums!” Martina says. “I haven’t played the Beatles’ ‘Revovler’ in decades.”

“Let’s go to the beach anyway,” Mel says.

They want a new experience but they want the reassuring parts of the old experience. The sun, the sound of the waves, the squall of seagulls, the sounds of people setting up their beach towels and coolers. Kids playing by the water. Focused runners running on the wet sand just inches from the waves.

Martina drives and they bring their gear, the towels, sunscreen, newspapers, and apples, and water. Martina carries the beach bag and Mel carries the towels.

They spread their towels out and recline. Martina can feel the heat of the sand warm her tight back muscles, her aching sacrum, her shoulders. She relaxes a bit. And a bit more. And becomes one with the sand, finally after all these months of anxiety. The heat of the sun holds her and Mel together.