“Okay, here goes nothing,” Scooter said as he started to reverse the boat.
“Watch out to your port,” Ben said frantically as a wood piling came precariously close. “Put it in neutral, quick!”
I shut my eyes and clutched my hands together. While I didn’t see the boat hit the piling, I felt the thud. Mrs. Moto yowled and cowered in my lap.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard Ben tell Scooter that it seemed like a minor scrape. What’s one more dent? Marjorie Jane already makes us look like trailer trash at the marina with all the marks on her hull. This one will just blend in with the others, I thought to myself.
“I guess he’s a little rusty,” Ben said in an effort to calm my nerves. Or maybe it was to calm his nerves. I wasn’t sure.
I rubbed my temples. “I’m not sure a little rusty a
