He’s trying as hard as she is. The Doctor hammers flattened pieces of tire to the pilings where the boat will rest. He wants the kids to have fun. He didn’t have much of a childhood. When he was twelve, his father died of a heart attack. His mother died of grief a month later, then he and his twin brother were packed off to boarding school in Missouri. The Doctor’s Wife understands this and she understands the kids have to be taught that life goes on whether you like it or not. But she also imagines her children being chewed up by the propeller of the boat.
“Come on in, Mom,” the kids urge.
The Doctor’s Wife steps in to the boat, a fast looking red and white thing propelled by a not-so-strong 75 horsepower Johnson outboard. She perches uneasily on the edge of the front seat. The dogs stand on the end of the dock barking wildly. Bob is to be the first water skier. He is a big boy, already taller than six feet. He has to hang on for a long time before he pops up out of the water. There are certain people on the lake who have powerful inboard boats, pretty mahogany Chris-Crafts, but the Doctor’s Wife is not interested in having a particular boat. She is interested in living a productive life.