The Houseboat

James, a young man in his late 20s was sitting in the restaurant at the marina. His boat and truck were in the parking lot ready for the 2-hour drive to his cabin on the lake. He was waiting for his breakfast when he overheard the women at the table next to his talking about the exciting evening they had on the water.

They talked about watching the fireworks and how they cruised around the harbor, afterward looking at the lights of the city. They finally made it to the marina around 9 am.

One of the young women picked up her phone and read the text message she had just received.

“Oh, shit,” she said. “My boss wants that report I was working on by 10 am. I can’t get home in time and I don’t have my laptop with me.”

“Waiter,” she called. “Do you have a computer here that I can use?”

“No, miss, sorry,” he said.

James turned his attention away from the morning paper and looked at the women. She was in her mid-twenties, with dark brown hair that gently sat on her shoulders.

“Excuse me,” said James. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but your sudden outburst caught my attention.”

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“That’s ok,” he said. “You need a computer!”

“Yes,” she said.

“See that houseboat on the trailer in the parking lot,” said James as he pointed out the window next to him. “I have a computer, with wifi. You can use it if you want.”

“Are you sure,” she said.

“I’m James,” he said holding out his hand in greeting.

“Oh, I’m Saira,” she said shaking his hand.

“Come, I’ll get you set up,” he said rising from the table.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to the waiter as he led Saira out the restaurant door.

The houseboat was thirty-five feet long and had a deep hull that when launched was four feet below the water level.