We pulled into the parking lot at the marina, which was filled with sportfishing boats, sailboats, motor yachts, houseboats, and a few starter superyachts.
I climbed out of the car and surveyed the marina, looking for something to spark my memory.
“Know which boat is yours?" Grayson asked.
I gave it a minute, hoping it would come back to me, then I shook my head in defeat.
“Can you explain to me how you are going to make it through an entire day without someone there to guide you through the nuances of daily life?”
I shrugged. "I’ll rise to the challenge."
He sighed and shook his head in frustration. Grayson escorted me down the dock to theIntrepid. It was a well-maintained 32-foot Sunwerks Zephyr with a teak deck, Bimini top, and solar panels.
"And yes, I've been looking after your boat,” he said.
"Thank you."
We boarded theIntrepid, and I pulled out my keys. I stared at them for a moment, then deduced which one opened the hatch. I unlocked it, and we climbed into the dim cabin.
I took a look around, hoping it would spark a few memories. There was a galley to port and a small settee to starboard. Forward was a salon, and forward of that was a day head and a V-berth. There was another aft berth below the cockpit.
The placefeltfamiliar. A vague sensation, but nothing concrete. Like I had been here before in a forgotten dream.
Grayson watched as I explored my new space.
His hopeful eyes followed as I stepped into the forward berth and looked at my things. He took a seat on the settee while I explored my domain.
I instantly went to a compartment and found a few pistols. I grabbed a subcompact black 9mm Bösch-Haüer PKT X9, press-checked it, and holstered it in my waistband for an appendix carry.
This was instinctual. I didn’t have to think about it. Like Tyson had said,don’t think. Just do. I was getting in my own way, trying so hard to put the pieces back together. I needed to just submit to the unknown. Embrace the uncertainty. The chaos. Trust it will all come back in due time.
Easier said than done.
I pulled the shirttail of my tank top over my waistband tocover the grip of the pistol, but you could still see the faint outline.
This wouldn't do.
Grayson would see it.
After what Tyson had said, I didn't want to walk around unarmed.
I grabbed a light sweater and put it on, fastened it at the bottom, then returned to the salon.
"Are you cold?"
"I'm skinny as a rail, and I have no fat on my bones. Yes, I’m a little chilly.”
He gave an understanding shrug.
I grabbed my laptop, took a seat at the settee across from him, and flipped open the lid. The security screen displayed, and I stared at it for a moment, trying to remember my password.
Nothing came to mind.
The harder I tried to remember, the more frustrated I got. Then I took a breath, relaxed, and didn't think about it. I put my fingers on the keyboard and let them do whatever they wanted.
The same way I had field-stripped the weapon, my fingers danced across the keyboard.
It worked. I was past the security screen.
