Free Apocalypse Drift by Joe Nobody Page B

the kitchen, and the couple exchanged a brief , “Good morning.”
    It was known, but left unsaid, how important today was going to be. If the long-married couple had been able to read each other’s minds, they might have been surprised at how similar their thoughts were. Both understood that the conversation and eventual decision made that day would alter the course of their destiny. Both were deeply concerned about how that change would affect the other.
    Morgan waited patiently for Wyatt to brew his morning dose of caffeine before broaching the subject. As her husband wandered around the kitchen, gathering the necessary condiments for his routine, she plopped down at the table and pondered how to kick off the tête-à-tête.
    Their boat was docked at a marina on the far south side of Houston. A few years ago, a customer had gotten behind in his payments to Wyatt’s company. The man had been a good friend as well as a long-term client. Since the fellow’s business was failing, he approached Wyatt one day and offered the title to the vessel as compensation. “I don’t want to stiff you, Wyatt. I’ve tried to sell the boat, but the market’s been destroyed by the recession. She needs some work and tender loving care, but her hull is solid. I bought her right, and most of the parts she needs are stored nearby. I’m offering to sign her over, free and clear, if you’ll accept the title as payment for what I owe you.”
    In those days, Wyatt’s business was still trending well, and the couple had often dreamed about purchasing a boat. After a brief visit and hasty tour of the vessel, they agreed to the proposal, and the paperwork was finalized. Wyatt and David spent many weekends working on the boat. After it was habitable, Morgan and Sage accompanied the men and did their share of labor. The acquisition was one of the few hobbies the entire family could share.
    After Boxer had been refit, the family enjoyed several voyages aboard. That first summer, they cruised from the Mexican border to the Florida panhandle. They relished the quiet weekends aboard the boat without leaving the pier, while other holidays resulted in extended cruising. When Wyatt’s business turned sour, the outings to the marina declined. David’s leaving for the army, combined with Sage’s busy senior year in high school had all but eliminated their water getaways.
    Some months ago, when things started going downhill with the business, Wyatt contacted a broker and put their yacht up for sale. The boating world had suffered worse than the housing market over the last eight years, and they hadn’t received a single offer. Since the slip and insurance had been paid a year in advance, the boat sat unused and forgotten for several months.
    Morgan took a sip of coffee and judged Wyatt ready to continue their discussion from last night. “What condition do you think the boat’s in?”
    Wyatt briefly glanced up from the toast he was buttering. “I would guess she’s a little dirty, but the mechanicals should be shipshape. The last time we took her out, everything was fine.”
    “What would we do with all of our stuff? I mean, there’s not room on board for much of anything. Would we store it?”
    Wyatt thought for a moment and then replied, “I’ve read several articles about living aboard, and that always seems to be the hardest transition. We’ve surrounded ourselves with things - personal belongings and other items that just won’t fit on a small boat. From what I’ve gathered, it takes a while to get accustomed to a streamlined existence, but most people adapt.”
    Morgan mulled that over for a while and then looked up smiling. “There would be a whole lot less to dust.”
    Wyatt continued, “It’s the sentimental items that people mention missing the most. Pictures, the kid’s art projects, awards and trophies…that sort of thing.”
    Morgan pushed back her chair from the solid oak table, suddenly flooded with the memories of