The Boat

If I had known today was going to be the day my life changed forever, I probably wouldn’t have worn my pajamas to the gas station to fill my car up with gas. I probably would have brushed my hair instead of quickly throwing it up into a messy bun. But here I am, standing in my driveway with my jaw on the ground. In my pajama pants. What I thought was going to be a normal weekend was now turning my normally quiet street into a circus. Mr. Wilson was even out on his driveway three houses down to see what the commotion was all about. 

I didn’t know where this brand-new boat had come from or how it had managed to appear in my driveway in the twenty minutes I had been filling up my truck, but it was here, covered in balloons and messages of joy. But I couldn’t figure out who had left it or much less why they had left it. My husband and I desperately needed a boat to get our business back up and running, but hadn’t yet managed to save the money we needed. But here was the exact boat in the exact color we had been saving for. Who had left it and why? Who had the means to buy a boat as expensive as this one and why had they mysteriously left it in our driveway while we were away? 

My husband was away at some sort of fishing ‘convention’ and wasn’t due back until Monday night, so I was here to deal with the new boat all alone. And the reporters who showed up unannounced. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the anonymous benefactor to come and tell me the boat was delivered to the wrong house. For the next thirty-six hours I stared at the boat and waited. And prayed. And waited some more. I knew there had to be a catch. The moment my husband arrived home from his ‘convention’ I knew what had happened and why he felt so guilty. His guilt alone could account for the new boat. I knew the one chance to make our life work was over. The only thing I was taking into my new life with me was the boat. 


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