A Summer Memory

-Part 5-

(Charlie)

It took some time to adapt my way of thinking. I like to think it started to work, but in reality, I believed she was coming back. Surfing connected me to her even though she wasn't there. My victories in the competitions, I imagined as ours. Every day I missed seeing her on the beach drawing or in my arms talking to one another. In the beginning, I missed her more in some places than others. I thought about seeing Cat graduate, but surfing came between that. There was a major surf competition that I couldn't miss, otherwise, my career for that would have to wait another year or two. Catherine would've wanted it, so I did it. A little part of me thought that the larger I went, the more she would want to come back.

A lot of things I did for Cat. You could say I was a little obsessed, but it got better after that competition, or so I thought. I was determined to not think about her after the competition that set up the beginnings of my career.

It went much better than I thought. "Yee of little faith," Cat would quote. Now that I was much more successful, the competitions I would go to now would be on television. For the next year, I grew larger in the industry, with a side job at my dad's bar, which was not far from our house.

From my room, you can see the ocean waves. Catherine loved it because of the view and partly because she was also with me. I would still miss her but it's been so long only to remember a single week. Becoming more absorbed with surfing kept me out of my head thinking of her.

Never would I have thought she would come back again. It had been three years and I didn't think about Cat. I didn't recognize her when she ordered a drink, but her laugh tapped the glass of my clueless brain. I thought it was just a slight coincidence, but it wasn't. From a distance, I saw her drawing. I immediately suspected she was Catherine, but I didn't know what I would say. I had to gain the courage to approach her, but that didn't happen. Plus, what would happen if she wasn't actually Catherine? That would be terribly embarrassing. Between my thoughts and the bar's business, I lost my chance. I looked to see if she left while I got off for the night. She had left. I went to pick up her glass, but also look for clues. There was a folded piece of paper under the glass. Just as the one in her sketchbook all those years ago. There wasn't a name on it, only a drawing. So many questions ran through my head at that moment, but I had to push them out. I had to find her, not ponder in my own mind with endless thoughts. At first, I was thinking too much of the old Catherine that, I forgot, that three years changed her as well. Once I took that into consideration, I looked again for the beautifully long ombred hair. I doubted I'd see her again, my gut told me that it was too late, but I was wrong. There she was, Catherine, the woman that changed my life in one week. She seemed surprised to see me find her if only she knew, I was too.