I tried to slip past quietly, but of course Karen spotted me. She froze. Her jaw clenched. Then, dragging her bucket behind her like a child dragging a backpack on the first day of school, she stomped toward me. “This is your fault.” I braced myself. “Good morning, Karen.” “No, it is not a good morning,” she hissed. “Do you know how humiliating this is? People are pointing at me. They’re whispering.” “Karen,” I said calmly, “you stole my boat.” “I borrowed it.” “You crashed it into a buoy.” “A small buoy.” “You ignored the Coast Guard.” “They were interrupting my event.” “There was no event.” “Yes, there was,” she insisted. “It was an HOA coastal enrichment excursion.” “You made that up.” Karen jabbed her trash picker in my direction like a medieval spear. “You have ruined my reputation.”
Jim appeared behind me at that exact moment, sipping his iced coffee. “Actually,” he corrected cheerfully, “you ruined your reputation. The internet just reported it.” Karen’s face twisted. “You. You and that stupid phone. You turned me into a meme.” Jim gave a polite bow. “My art has never been so appreciated.” “I hate you,” she spat. “Get in line,” Jim replied. Karen turned back to me, eyes wild. “You have to fix this. Tell them to take the video down.” I could not help but laugh. “Karen, you can’t just take down the internet.” “Yes, I can.” “No, you can’t.” “Watch me.” She marched across the dock to where a group of teenage boat hands were laughing at their phones. She pointed at them. “You. All of you. Stop watching that.” One boy raised his phone and said, “Is this you?” Karen shrieked, slapped the phone out of his hand, and immediately got scolded by a marina supervisor. I sighed. “She’s getting worse.” Jim nodded. “Oh, yeah. Entitlement spirals before it dies.”
But the real surprise came later that afternoon. I was sitting on a bench near the repair shop, waiting for the latest estimate, when I saw Todd walking toward me. He looked more drained than before, like each day married to Karen shaved off a year of his life expectancy. “Can I sit?” he asked quietly. “Of course.” He sat heavily, elbows on his knees. “I wanted to talk to you. Apologize again. And explain something.” I frowned. “Explain what?” He took a shaky breath. “Karen doesn’t handle consequences well. She never has. She grew up getting everything she wanted. Her parents never said no. And when we married, I didn’t realize she couldn’t accept denial from anyone.” I nodded slowly. “She thinks rules are suggestions, not laws. And she truly believes she deserves special treatment.” His voice cracked. “She thinks asking for permission makes her less than.” I exhaled. Finally, something that made sense. Not justification. Insight. Todd continued. “She’s terrified right now. Not of the Coast Guard. Not even the charges. She’s scared because she can’t control the narrative. People laughing at her. It’s her worst nightmare.” Jim muttered, “Maybe she should have thought about that before becoming a nautical menace.” Todd did not argue. He looked at me again, eyes heavy. “I don’t expect forgiveness, but I hope maybe one day you won’t hate her.” I shook my head. “Todd, I don’t hate her. I just want her to stop hurting people.” He nodded weakly. “Me too.”