6:22pm When my daughter and I returned from dinner we saw a woman across the way moving a table. Trying to be self sufficient she had placed the heavy table on a skateboard and was awkwardly rolling it down the path. The going was slow and every couple feet she needed to stop and reposition it on the board. She was going toward the car parking area that was still over a hundred feet away. “Let me help you,” I offered, jogging to catch up to her. She looked up, annoyed that she needed help but resigned to accepting it. “Thank you so much,” she replied. She was in her late forties, tall with long blonde hair that was becoming disheveled from exertion. She wore a white strapped top with a long green floral skirt covering her angular legs. Seeing that I would be occupied for a moment my daughter sat down on a nearby bench and began scrolling on her phone. The woman and I pushed the skateboard onto the grass out of the way. We each took an end of the oak table and began carrying it. As we walked my arms strained agains the weight. Sweat beaded on my forehead. The bottom of the table hit my legs and bruised my shins. I could tell she was struggling to but refused to take a break. “I am good,” she said when I offered a brief respite. We got to the parking lot. She approached a white economy car that had backed in. After opening the trunk we lifted the table over the edge and placed it face down. When we were done she thanked me again for the help. This time more effusively. I assured her it was no problem and I was happy to help. I even waved as she drove away. As I walked back to join my daughter the sun was beginning to set and the air smelled of sweet ocean salt.