Three weeks with my brother - Nicholas Sparks [73]
Though my dad was never comfortable in the saddle, I think it was his way of showing my mom that he was willing to work on the marriage. Years of emotional distance had strained their relationship, and Micah sometimes mentioned that he thought my mom had nearly reached the breaking point. Where once she was willing to stay married for the sake of the children, she now sometimes wondered aloud whether she would be happier without my dad. I don’t know if either my mom or my dad ever seriously considered divorce; I do know, however, that my mom spoke the word with increasing frequency, both on the phone and around the house. And my dad, no doubt, had heard her speak of it as well.
Rapprochement is always difficult; when distance has grown over the years, it’s sometimes impossible to overcome. Yet, horseback riding together offered my parents a way to do just that, and little by little my parents seemed to enjoy a budding sense of renewal between them.
My brother continued to live his carefree existence. After graduation from college in 1987, he and a friend went to Europe, and bicycled around Spain, France, and Italy for nearly a month. Upon his return, he shared stories about the adventure before taking a trip to the mountains to go white-water rafting.
In August, he began working full-time as a commercial real estate broker; he continued to date energetically. He brought a different girl home every couple of weeks to meet our parents, and every date seemed crazy about him. In time, my mom called me with the news that he’d brought a particular girl over twice. For Micah, that was just about the closest thing to a steady girlfriend he’d had in years. And when he brought her by a third time, I think my mom knew it was serious.
At Notre Dame, I was edging toward a degree in business finance, with the hope of attending law school after graduation. In March of 1988, a few friends and I decided to drive down to Florida for our final spring break. Because one of my roommate’s fathers owned a condominium on Sanibel Island, we opted to go there instead of the usual destinations like Daytona or Fort Lauderdale.
On our second night there, I noticed a woman walking with a couple of girlfriends through the parking lot of the condominium.
She was attractive—but so was practically everyone after an evening on the town—and she quickly passed from my mind. A moment later, however, when my friends and I had almost reached the lobby, we heard voices calling down to us from the external hallway on the sixth floor.
“Hey, are you guys staying here?”
When we looked up, we noticed the same three girls.
“Yes,” we answered.
“Well, we’re supposed to meet a couple of friends, but they’re not here yet, and we really have to go to the bathroom. Can we use yours?”
“Sure!” we shouted. “We’re on the eighth floor.”
They came up and introduced themselves as seniors from the University of New Hampshire, and we let them in our room to use the bathroom. A moment later, the three of them stood in the kitchen, but my eyes were glued to the woman I had noticed earlier. Up close, she had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, so unusual in color they almost looked unreal. It was all I could do not to stare.
“Hi,” I finally said. “I’m Nick.”
She smiled. “Hey Nick. I’m Cathy.”
I would love to tell you that the initial attraction was mutual, but I’d be lying if I did. The girls stayed in our room for a half hour or so and invited us down to their friends’ place. While we were there, I got their phone number from one of Cathy’s friends and promised to call the next day to see if they wanted to hang out at the beach behind the condominium.
When they decided to join us the following morning, I was palpably nervous about seeing Cathy again. I hoped I’d made a good impression on her, and when I saw her and her friends coming toward us on the beach, I quickly rose to greet them.
“Hey,” I said eagerly, “I’m glad you could come.”
To which Cathy replied, “Oh, hey, I’m Cathy. I didn’t meet you last night, did I?”
Despite the ego bruising,