On August 27 we move the boat from the marina-that-is-not-really-a-marina, to a real marina (Wentworth by the Sea). Since it’s still in-season, it’s ridiculously expensive. My pregnant sister and her family are scheduled to come to dinner and it will be easier if we are on the dock rather than a mooring ball. We decide to check out various boatyards so we can quickly move the boat and get work done while we are here. We find a reputable boatyard and are in the midst of a conversation with the manager when my cell phone rings. I see it’s my sister and unthinkingly silence it. Matt’s cell phone rings. Again, it’s my sister. He raises his eyebrows at me. I grab the phone and go outside. It’s time. One of the babies’ heart rates is low, they want to induce labor and she’s headed to the hospital. We meet her there to collect her two older children from her husband and then drive to her house to wait. The next morning she calls and says there is no progress and that she’s coming home. I’m not surprised. Like me, she’s a Type A and there are still a lot of projects she wants done before the babies come. I help her for the next week but am anxious and on edge. Although I voice none of this, I am concerned about the birth process and the babies. Will they be ok? The babies, twin girls, are born on Sept 3 and all is well. Matt moves the boat to the Kittery Point Yacht Yard in Maine. He spends most of his time at the marina working on the boat. The marina is an hour from my sister so we see him mainly on weekends.