6 comments/ 15646 views/ 6 favorites Coming From Behind Ch. 09-10 By: coaster2 Chapter 9 Could She do it Again? We took Wednesday off to relax and do a bit of sightseeing in Seattle. Catherine had been here before but it had been a long time ago and she didn't recall much of the city. I had never been here, so everything was new to me. If I took one lasting impression from the city it was traffic. It seemed to be present all day long, with rush hour being the worst. We ended up planning our day to avoid it, heading south back to the Kent area well before the normal crowd formed on I-5 or I-405. Instead, we went just south of our hotel to Emerald Downs and watched the horse races. Catherine loved it and as the sun set and the temperature dropped to the high seventies we sat watching the races, betting small amounts without any clue about which horse might win. It was fun and when we drove back to the hotel we were both tired but happy with our day. We made love after another shower and slept soundly. Thursday dawned sunny with the promise of another hot afternoon. Happily, our tee time was fairly early at nine-fifty. With luck we would avoid the worst of the heat. I watched Catherine carefully on the practice tee, looking for any sign of how she might play today. Her drives continued to be that perfect combination of medium height with a slight draw. Her long irons looked crisp and her short irons were her trademark height with a soft landing. She didn't have a backspin shot that she used regularly. She didn't feel confident with it I suppose. We didn't bother with the greens at this stage. The practice round would tell her what to expect and how to read them. Again, years of experience came into play and she knew what she had to discover about this course. She was teamed with two other women, one of whom she knew, the other a college student at U.W., a complete stranger. The tall young woman had entered as an amateur for the experience. She was already a fixture on the Husky women's golf team. The play was slow, as I was told to expect. Extra time was taken to measure and look at the course carefully by all three of the women. I was making notes as Catherine talked, again giving me the impression it was as much to herself as to anyone. I liked the look of her game that day. She tried a few new things out, expecting that the narrow fairways would put her in the rough more than once. She took some chances she otherwise wouldn't try just to see what it took to extract herself from problems if they occurred. I think I learned as much from the practice round as she did. Her sand shots were mediocre, so her strategy was to avoid the traps whenever possible. It was the one real weakness in her game. She wasn't as long off the tee as her opponents, but on this course, a par 72, 6500 yard test, that wouldn't be as critical. I thought accuracy would spell the difference. Her putting was normally very good, with her real strength at ten feet and closer. I couldn't recall her missing very many from that distance. We didn't keep score, so the only notes I made were distance references, contour of the fairways and shape and contour of the greens. If the rough was any indication, it wouldn't be ankle deep so I expected she would be able to manage it without difficulty. She remarked that the greens were consistent for speed but not easy to read. I wondered how hard they would be late in the day with the hot sun beating on them. By then her soft shots might begin to bounce and roll a good deal farther. We showered at the club and had dinner at a nearby restaurant before heading back to the hotel. We were tired enough to watch a bit of TV before retiring. There would be no lovemaking that night. It was important to be ready for the opening round in the morning. Again we had an early tee time. After a light breakfast in our room we left for the Meridian Valley clubhouse, a very nice large structure built into the hillside overlooking the tenth tee and a large pond near the practice range. The walk to the first tee was across a bridge and past the range. Again she would be in a threesome, surprisingly including the young amateur from yesterday. She had proven to be very good and very long. She had also been quite polite and conducted herself very well considering her age. Someone had taught her the etiquette of the game and she had learned it well. The third of our group was an older woman, nearing fifty I guessed. Catherine didn't know her and she kept pretty much to herself, not offering any information other than her name. The group shook hands and it was determined that the young amateur would go first. Number one was a short par four, three-hundred and forty yards with traps on each side in the driving area and two traps on each side of the front of the green. Out of bounds on the left where there were houses and large trees around the green, but otherwise not a difficult hole. The young student took the fairway traps out of play by blasting a drive well past them within sixty yards of the green. I just shook my head when I saw that. I couldn't hit it that far to save my life and it looked like she could do it all day, every day. Our older third hit a solid tee shot that was headed right for the traps but came up short by only a yard or two. Catherine chose a three metal, setting up her second shot I assumed. She hit her patented right-to-left draw and watched the ball settle nicely in the centre of the fairway, about one-ten from the green. I smiled as she handed me back the club. She was off to a good start, once again playing her game and not someone else's. At the turn, Catherine was still even par. She wasn't making any mistakes but she wasn't making any putts either. It was one of those days when they were all around the cup but just not dropping. She'd kept the ball on the fairway for the most part, but couldn't seem to get her irons close enough to take advantage of birdie opportunities. On the other hand, to see and talk to her you'd never know she was unhappy. She kept that level disposition regardless of what was happening with her game. She bogeyed the par three twelfth when she found the left side bunker and couldn't convert her bunker shot when it came up fifteen feet long. Again, she didn't show any emotion and just kept moving along at her pace. I wondered just what kind of strength of character it took to be able to do that. I was much more an "A type" personality and I would be mumbling to myself at my mistakes. The next hole, thirteen, was a long, uphill par four playing three-seventy-five today. Well trapped, the hole actually favored a fade off the tee but that wasn't a shot Catherine played with any regularity. Instead, she deliberately hit her drive right along the edge of the rough, allowing it draw back onto the right side of the fairway. Now that took guts. This was the number two stroke hole and with a two-tiered green it looked every bit a formidable challenge. On our practice round the pin had been on the lower tier but today it was on top near the front of the tier, a miserable location. Catherine debated with herself on what to hit and finally chose a seven iron, which surprised me. It thought that would be far too much club for the one hundred and twenty remaining yards. Some day I'd learn to trust her judgment. She choked down on the grip and punched a low, running shot directly at the pin, watching it run up the fairway onto the green and up to the bottom of the slope to the upper tier before stopping. She had an uphill ten footer for a birdie. The last time I'd seen a shot like that was at Bandon Dunes and it was into the wind on a blustery day. I just shook my head and smiled. She knew exactly what she was doing. As she handed me the club in exchange for her putter she smiled and said, "Scotty taught me that shot." She got her first and only birdie of the round when she made a solid stroke up the slope and directly into the cup. It was a no-doubter all the way. A high five was in order along with a big smile. She was back to even par. When we had made the turn at nine I could see a couple of red numbers. It looked like someone was two or three under, but that was early on. We'd know better where we stood some time after our round was over. The last of the competitors had only just teed off. Catherine finished the round at even par, with only one birdie and one bogey on her card. We showered in the facilities after she had handed in her card for the day. Sitting on the patio we had lunch and relaxed, keeping an eye on the scoreboard. At that point, several women were under par. The leader was on the fifteenth and at that point, four under par. We could easily be five or six strokes off the pace by the end of the day if one of the late starters got hot. The only thing that got hot that afternoon was the sun. When the last of the competitors arrived at the scoring tent, one woman was six under, while there were a group of women at three and two under. Six back on the first day. That wasn't going to make it easy. Was another big comeback in the cards, I wondered? Catherine wasn't bothered by the scores, either hers or her competitors. "Two more rounds to go, Terry. As my father loves to say, 'early ripe, early rot.' Strange things can happen in a round of golf. I didn't take any chances today because I didn't have to. I just wanted to get my game going for me. I might have made three or four putts that didn't drop and I'd be up there in red figures too. But sometimes it's like that. Tomorrow's another day," she smiled optimistically. That was Catherine. She wasn't going to let one round affect her, good or bad, or in today's case, a steady round in par. Saturday there was a cloud cover that promised to hold the temperature down. There wasn't any threat of rain. According to the weather service it was just a small band of high cloud passing through. It would still be in the eighties but with a breeze that might cool things down for the afternoon. That would be a pleasant relief from the heat of the past four days. If Friday's round was steady, Saturday's was almost frightening. Catherine was much more aggressive, something I hadn't seen in her before. But whatever the cause, she was shooting "lights out." Five birdies and one bogey on the front bore testament to her mood. I thought for a while she might be angry with herself but that didn't seem to be the case either. One thing was for certain, she was back in the hunt and whatever the reason she was going to be a force to be reckoned with. She didn't change a thing until we got to the thirteenth. She had birdied twelve, canceling out yesterday's bogey, so she was now five under par. I wondered if she would try and drive past the traps today but again she opted for the three metal and once again flirted with danger by starting her drive out along the right rough before almost copying yesterday's draw back onto the fairway. She walked back to me with what I could only call a smirk on her face. "Seven," she said without looking as she handed me the fairway metal. I pulled the club out of the bag and handed it to her. I knew exactly what she had in mind. It would be a copy of yesterday's shot, except today the hole was in the back left of the upper tier. "It drops off behind the pin, Cat. You don't want to be long." "Got it," she nodded, not looking at me. She was already shaping the shot in her head. Once again, she choked down on the grip, took three or four looks at the pin, then snapped a low, running shot at the front of the green, ten or twelve feet right of the pin. The ball rolled obligingly up the slope, drifting left as it did so, and coming to rest six feet from the cup below the hole. "How's that," she grinned as she handed me the iron and I exchanged it for her putter. "Perfect!" I said with just as big a smile. There wasn't anything else that needed to be said. It was perfect. And so was the putt that put her six under with five holes to play. Fourteen was a par five dogleg right and should have been an easy birdie hole at four-hundred-and-ninety yards. Unfortunately, Catherine's drive was further left than she wanted it to be and her approach to the green was blocked by a tree. She did the sensible thing and laid up, giving herself a short wedge to the green for a birdie opportunity. Like everything else that day, she hit it perfectly and walked off the green seven under and shaking her head. She parred in from there, almost making another birdie on eighteen, a par five, when her putt lipped out and she settled for a par. Just the same, it was an extraordinary round. When I looked at the leader board I could see that she was now in the thick of the fight with the first round leader at eight under after nine. Sunday was going to be interesting. "That's the lowest competitive round of golf I've ever shot, Terry," she said as we relaxed with a drink and a sandwich after our showers. "You played very differently today," I said. "You were much more aggressive, especially on the front nine." "I was pissed off with myself yesterday. I wasn't taking any risks and so I wasn't getting any rewards. I decided that since this isn't my livelihood any more I didn't need to play patty-cake golf just to shoot an acceptable score and make a few bucks. It let me do some things I would never have done on the pro tour. I have to wonder now if I'd have done better if I'd just thrown caution to the wind and played to win." "You thinking maybe you might want to give the tour another try?" I asked, almost afraid of her answer. She looked at me and smiled. "No. I'm right where I want to be. This is fun because Monday or Tuesday I don't have worry whether the sponsors will be pleased or discouraged with my result. I'm enjoying this for what it is ... a competition. I think you can relate to that. It's a bit like when you were playing against Norman Fears. It was a contest and you knew how you wanted to play and you played it ... risks and all." I reached out and took her hand. I was pleased she didn't let this one round go to her head and that she wasn't tempted to go back on the tour. Besides, there was still tomorrow and the final round. In all likelihood she would still have to come from behind if she was going to win the tournament. But I was curious. "How do you expect to play tomorrow? I mean, will you be as aggressive as you were today?" "That depends on a couple of things. One, every day is different. Until I see how I feel and how my shots look I won't know. Two, it will also depend on where I am on the leader board. If I'm close then I might be a bit more conservative until I see how the opposition is doing. If I'm back more than two or three shots, I'll probably play the kind of game I played today. Take a few more chances and see if I can make something happen. It's riskier but, what the hell ... 'play to win' as the saying goes." I nodded. I understood the strategy perfectly. When we left the course that afternoon it was apparent that Catherine would be more than two shots back. And guess who the clubhouse leader was when we left? Miranda Caldwell. Was this the setup for a one-on-one showdown at Meridian on Sunday? Wouldn't that be something? When I checked the internet back at the hotel, I smiled as I saw the final scores for the day. Miranda was in the lead at ten under. She had also shot a seven under round today to go with her three under on Friday. Amazingly, Catherine was alone in second, with two players at six under and then a scattering of four, three, and two under players rounding out the top ten. "Well, Cat, looks like you're in the final threesome with Miranda tomorrow," I grinned. "You're looking forward to that, aren't you," she chortled. "You'd just love to see us go at it hammer and tong, wouldn't you?" "You bet. One on one and let the best lady win." "I've got to admit, it is going to be interesting for sure. Whoever wins is going to earn it," she said thoughtfully. "I've got a lot of confidence in you, so just play the way you want to play. You've got the game, that's for sure. Just play the best you can tomorrow and whatever happens, happens." "Hmmm, words from the old philosopher huh?" she said with a smirk. "That's me. A fountain of wisdom ready at a moment's notice to spout banalities." "Never mind that stuff, pal, what's the weather forecast for tomorrow?" I took me a few moments to pull up the National Weather Service map and forecast for the Seattle area. "Sunny, hot, but not as hot as earlier," I reported. "High eighties, maybe. But humidity is going up. That could be a factor." "It will be. I feel for some of the older women, especially if they are carrying some extra weight. That can really wear on you late in the round." "Good thing you're as fit as you are." "Nice of you to say so. Mind you, I've been getting a lot more exercise lately," she grinned. "Always glad to help out wherever I can. Just let me know when my services are required and I'll be there." "I might want a nice massage tonight if we decide to retire early." "That sounds like a very good idea. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow so you want to be in tip-top shape. We also get to sleep in a little longer since we're in the last threesome. Our tee time is just after eleven." "You sound just as up for this as I am," she chortled. "True. How can I not be? I've been in the presence of greatness and that tends to sharpen the senses." "Save the flattery for later. You wouldn't want it to go to my head, would you?" "If what I've seen in these last two tournaments is any example, I doubt very much that you can be distracted. I've been very impressed with your single-mindedness." "I have to," she said. "I've been able to concentrate much better than I did when I was on the tour. Too many times I was thinking about how I was doing or what my competitors were doing. With you being here I find it easy to just think about the next shot, or setting up the following shot. That, Mr. Monahan, is a good thing." "Whatever the reason, I can see the difference ... or at least ... that zone you are in when you're on the course. It's really interesting to watch. It has a lot to do with why you are playing well, I believe." "I know it does. I have a lot less doubt when I'm choosing a club or deciding on the kind of shot I want to make. I'm reading the putts with more confidence. Everything just seems to be feeling right. I think you have a lot to do with that. Your silent support doesn't go unnoticed. We make a very good team, Terry." "I think so too," I agreed, almost saying something about making it permanent, then changing my mind. I told myself she didn't need that kind of pressure, especially now. Just let it go until the timing is right. We chose a nearby restaurant and had what I thought of as a light meal. Catherine selected the grilled tuna while I had chicken bruschetta. We returned to our suite by nine o'clock and climbed into bed at ten o'clock. I had given her a shoulder and foot massage while we were watching a TV program. It was something I had been taught by my former wife when she was stiff from a long day's work at her office. I got a very nice thank you afterwards from Catherine before we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. Sunday dawned bright and sunny with only some scattered cloud in the area. We had our usual light breakfast before she began to prepare for the final round. I had already checked all the basics but she wouldn't leave the hotel without going over it all herself. I wasn't insulted. It was always good to have a second set of eyes and besides, it was her routine and I didn't want to interfere. We arrived at the course at nine-thirty and we checked in with the starter to confirm our time, then walked to the nearby range for some practice. Considering I'd only seen Catherine play a dozen rounds of golf or so, I was beginning to realize I could see small differences in her approach and even her swing. In this case, she was very relaxed and not trying to get anything extra out of her shots. I wondered if this was her plan for today. Coming From Behind Ch. 09-10 I thought about saying something to her about it but stopped and considered how to form the question so as not to throw her off. The answer was simple enough. "How do you see yourself playing to start off with today?" I asked her as we walked back toward the putting green. She looked at me questioningly, then looked away. "I haven't decided," she said, turning back to me. "Why?" "I think you need to have a plan. Indecision can produce indecisive play. Your strength is knowing what you want to do and then doing it. No doubts. It doesn't matter if you want to play defensive for a while before turning it on, but at least you know what you want to do." She looked at me again, seemingly trying to figure out why I was speaking out. "So ... you think I don't have a plan?" she said, but not in a confrontational way. "No ... I don't think you've decided and you should do so before you walk onto the first tee. If you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to listen." She gave me one of her funny, wrinkled smiles. "I don't know how you knew ... but you're right. I haven't decided whether to attack or play cautiously until I see how Miranda plays. Or anyone else either, just in case there's another seven under out there somewhere." "You kicked ass yesterday by being aggressive when the opportunities arose. Nothing crazy, of course, but look what it got you," I smiled. "You thinking I should go after it?" "That's my gut feel. You've got the game for it and if you can get into Miranda's head early she might have a hell of a time competing." She laughed softly and shook her head, then took hold of my arm, pulled me to her and planted a serious big kiss on my lips. "Where have you been when I really needed someone like you? You're right, Terry. I've got nothing to lose. Play to win. That's what this is about. I've done it once before. I'd like to prove it wasn't a fluke. Now is the time to 'kick ass' as you call it. Let's go. Miranda awaits," she said, marching off to the putting green. I liked the look of Catherine's putting stroke when I watched her on the practice green. It was consistent and her judgment was good. I was getting a good feeling about her today. Call it intuition or just wishful thinking, I had a lot of confidence in her at that moment. I don't know if I was prescient or what but it took no time at all for Catherine to exert her influence on the game. When Miranda inexplicably took a double bogey on the first hole with an errant drive and a poor chip, Catherine birdied the first hole with a drive and a wedge within ten feet. Once again her deadly putting inside that range paid off and she walked off the first green having wiped out her three stroke deficit that quickly. It was all downhill from there. It was as if she had adopted the maxim of "when you've got 'em down, kick 'em." She took it to Miranda relentlessly on the front nine and by the turn it was all over. Her opponent scrambled to stay in the game but by then Catherine was ten under and Miranda had slipped back to seven under. Their starting positions had been reversed. Miranda was trying to catch up with more aggressive play but it was backfiring on her. You could see the frustration on her face, something that had never been there before. Catherine took her foot off the throttle for most of the back nine. You could sense she was in complete control and if she needed to step up, she could and she would. At the end of the round it was Catherine Walston 203, thirteen under par. Her six under round looked as easy as a stroll in the park. Miranda recovered somewhat but finished at 207, nine under for the tournament and one over for the day. No one else was within two shots. When she sank her tap-in on eighteen I watched her face and I couldn't tell if she was going to shout for joy or burst into tears. She came straight for me, wrapping her arms around me and giving me another of her great, loving kisses. "Thank you Terry. Thank you so much," she said, breaking away to shake hands with her competitors and the caddies. I was immensely proud of her, of course. She had shown that champion's determination once again and I had a feeling that she was going to be very difficult to beat in these regional tournaments. The trophy was nice and the money was great but it was the sense of accomplishment that she fed on. She was a winner again and it was beginning to settle into her psyche that she had turned a corner in her life. Chapter 10 The End of the Beginning Catherine skipped the Coeur d'Alene tournament in late August. We were in the middle of final design drawings for the clubhouse and decisions needed to be made. I couldn't get away and Catherine wouldn't accept anyone else on her bag except me, so we opted out. There was still the Southern Oregon Open the third week of September and I thought we might be able to sneak away for that. It was to be played on the new Centennial Golf Club in Medford, potentially a 7300 yard monster that would undoubtedly be cut back to a more sensible length for the women. James assured us the final drawings would be ready for submission to the council before the end of September, so Catherine went ahead and sent her entry in to the organizers and we promptly got on with other things related to Bending Willows. With Scotty's help and connections, we found a greenskeeper who came well recommended from a private club in Montana. He wanted to get away from cold winters and an ex-wife we were told. In his mid-fifties, he was no youngster, but he could do the job and it was an important one. We were still looking for a teaching professional. Catherine's two wins had not gone unnoticed and she had been invited to resume her residency at Ghost Creek but politely declined, reminding them that she was now an employee at the soon-to-be-rebuilt Bending Willows course. "Employee, huh?" I snorted. "I think executive would be more appropriate." "You've been eavesdropping, Terry. Besides, I didn't want to burn any bridges. We may want some friends in this business from time to time and we can't start building those links too soon." "Tell me what these relationships can do?" "Simple, when we're overbooked we can contact other courses to see what's available, and vice versa. Also, some of the bigger promotions can book three courses for a weekend. We may want to participate and if we have good relations with the other people, it makes it that much easier to get cooperation. If we get closed for any freak situation like a flood or something, we need to find places for our members and guests. That sort of thing." "Okay, you've obviously thought this out so I bow to your superior experience and judgment." "Wise decision," she smirked. I had not pursued any more talk of marriage since I first brought it up. I thought it might be smarter to wait until the big project we worked on was complete and then, when we had some time to ourselves, I could ask again. Hopefully this time I would get a positive response. Just the same, I felt we were living and acting like a married couple so I really wasn't missing anything from our relationship. In Mid-September, James and Brett scheduled a meeting with Catherine, Scotty and me to give us a preliminary look at the finished plans for the clubhouse, pro shop and out buildings, integrated into their locations on the new course. It was an exciting moment that afternoon when we gathered around the big plywood table that we had made for just this purpose. No matter how good the computer graphics were, they still couldn't do for me what a set of design drawings could. Brett and James had worked together to integrate both the course and buildings to show everything we could imagine, including the pathways, parking areas, drop off locations, putting and chipping greens, and driving range. As they rolled back the top sheet of the plans, I was holding my breath. It took me a few seconds to focus on what I was looking at. The more I looked, the more I saw, and the more I saw, the more excited I became. "Incredible!" I said to no one in particular. "It's better than I imagined it would be. Fantastic! Great job, guys." "It's wonderful," Catherine echoed. Scotty was nodding his approval. "First rank, lads. First rank," he declared. "Have we got all our bases covered for the approvals?" I asked. "Yes, as far as I know we've got everything just the way they wanted it," James said. "I can't see any problem in council with this, especially if Ms. Sandoval is on our side." "How much more work has to be done before we can present this as a complete set of plans?" I asked. "Electrical and HVAC are still at the sub-trades for their review but I'm sure there's less than a week's work to finish," James said confidently. "We've already got approval on the irrigation, drainage, and sewer system," Brett reminded us. They're happy as hell we won't be putting any strain on the county systems since we have that spring water to use." "Wilford Contracting has most of the estimates completed and they don't expect any surprises from the electrical or HVAC," Catherine said. "We're in a soft market right now so it's a great time to build." "That's great everyone," I smiled. "Well done! I can't wait to get started." "Aye, Lad," Scotty said seriously. "It will be a grand day when we open once again." We left for Medford on Tuesday, knowing it would be a full five to six hour drive including our stops. We chose the Marriot Courtyard since there was no Embassy Suites in the town. I guess we were getting spoiled but it wasn't about the facilities at the hotel that mattered, it was about the golf. As it turned out, the hotel was just fine and there were several very nice restaurants to choose from as well. Catherine didn't win the tournament but she did finish tied for third. She played well but somehow didn't seem to have the fire in her belly that she did in Seattle. I didn't expect her to win everything she entered but I thought something was missing this week and I couldn't put my finger on it. "So, how do you feel about the tournament," I asked as subtly as I could on our drive back to Portland. She turned to me. Looked at me for a few moments, shrugged, then turned back to gazing out the windshield. I was about to rephrase the question when it dawned on me she was lost in thought. It took her a few minutes before she said anything. "Did you mean it?" "Did I mean what?" I asked, not knowing what she was referring to. "About being with me for a lifetime. You said that, you know, back in July." "Of course I did. I meant it then and I mean it now." There was an exit to Roseburg that I almost missed before deciding to turn off. "Why are you turning off here?" "Time for a break and a conversation. Would you like a coffee or something else? Something to eat?" She shook her head, still not looking at me. "No thanks. Coffee's fine." I found an espresso shack just off the entrance to town and pulled over in an unoccupied area near the shack. I got out, but Catherine stayed in the wagon, still lost in thought I guessed, judging by the expression on her face. I passed her the usual latté she would order and I had my dark coffee with three creams as I got back into the Audi. "Talk to me, Cat. It's like this has been bothering you all weekend ... even before that maybe." "Terry ... I ... I've ... I've never been in love before. I don't know if it's real or not. I don't know what to do," she sobbed, tears now trickling down her cheek. "There isn't anything to do. It happens. It is ... I mean ... it's not a tangible thing. It's in your head and in your heart. It won't let go of you. It's there all the time, just like you are with me all the time. I don't have a minute that I'm not thinking about you and wondering about you. Even when I'm asleep, you're in my dreams. I can't help it. There's nothing I can do about it. I'm in love with you, Catherine. I want to marry you. I want you with me for the rest of my life. Yes ... yes ... I meant it then and I mean it now." Both of us had put our coffees in the holders or otherwise there would have been a pair of scaldings to deal with. She had released her seat belt and turned to me, almost lunging across the center consol and wrapping her arms around me and kissing me with great force. "Yes. That's my answer. Yes. Yes I will marry you. When you explained it ... I mean ... how you felt about me, I knew it was the same for me. I guess I really am in love with you, Terry. But it's weird. I should be really happy but ... I think I'm scared. I don't know what to say or do ... except ... I've made up my mind. Yes," she smiled through the drying tear tracks. I held her tightly, happier than I'd been in a long, long time. My new life was great and I was excited by my tomorrows, but never so much as having Catherine with me at my side every day. I couldn't think of anything special to say. I'd already said it so I did up my seat belt, turned the car back toward I-5, and headed home. I don't remember much of the drive home. We stopped one more time for a bathroom and snack break before finishing the trip. We held hands along the way. I think both of us were emotionally and physically exhausted by the time we reached the townhouse. I made a sandwich and heated some canned soup for each of us while Catherine unpacked and had a shower. She returned to the kitchen in a t-shirt, shorts and barefoot. She wrapped her arms around me from behind and hugged me to her. I think it was her way of telling me she wasn't having any second thoughts. We kissed before I excused myself to shower and change. I don't sing in the shower because I shouldn't, but that evening I was very tempted. To hell with the tournament, I had won first prize. Two weeks later, Catherine and I presented our plans for the new Bending Willows Golf Club and with the vocal support of Delores Sandoval and with no intervention from any interested party, it was passed unanimously by council. All the preparation and hard work had come out with exactly the result we were hoping for. "I hope you remember your commitment to remove the portables by the end of next year, Terry," Delores smiled. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," I said with a positive note. "If our calculations are correct, we should have the club open and operating in all structures by this time next year, three months ahead of the deadline." "Excellent. Just as I hoped you would. I'm looking forward to the grand re-opening. I hope you'll invite me." "Count on it. In fact, I plan to have you cut the ribbon if you are allowed to do that. I also intend to invite the media. It might not be a big deal to them but it is to us." "I'll be there with my official scissors. You know very well no politician would miss an opportunity to get their picture taken." "Why Delores, I never once thought of you as a politician," I kidded. "You lie, Terry. But I do appreciate the invitation and you can count on me being there." "I think the only person that will be happier than us that day will be Scotty. It's like he's been reborn." I felt an elbow poke me gently in my ribs as Catherine joined us. "I hear congratulations are in order, too," the council member said happily. "Yes. Catherine and I plan to get married next spring. The details aren't settled yet but we'll let you know by invitation." "This is quite a whirlwind life you two are leading. Building a golf course, playing and winning tournaments, getting married. When do you have time to relax?" "He promised me he wouldn't go back to his old lifestyle of twenty-four/seven for work and I'm holding him to that promise," Catherine said solemnly. "Well, make sure he sticks to that, Catherine. He's one of a kind and you want to keep him nearby." Delores left to chat with some other council members and citizens, leaving Catherine and me alone. "At least she didn't ask the question," Catherine said. "What question?" "How many children were we planning on?" "Oh. Oh, yeah. Jeez, Cat. We haven't even talked about that yet. You should kick me for that." "I will later. You've had a lot on your mind and I didn't want to complicate things even more. We can discuss it later," she said, not seeming upset or concerned. "Yeah. Later ... okay. I won't forget." Later turned out to be that night in bed. Ever since she'd made the remark, I hadn't gotten the question out of my mind. What about starting a family? I wanted children ... at least two ... but what about Catherine? What did she want? And if she didn't want any, how would I feel? "You still awake?" I whispered. "Yes." "You thinking about what we talked about ... I mean about having kids?" "Yes," she admitted. "Me too. What do you want?" "What do you want?" "I asked you first," I kidded. "It's not a game, Terry," she chided. "I know," I said contritely, "but I guess we have to be honest enough to say what we think. I do want children but only if you want them too." She rolled toward me and held me and I had my answer. "Do you think two would be enough?" she asked. "I was thinking two would be exactly right." I was grinning from ear to ear but I wasn't sure Catherine could see it. "Then the only thing to decide is when," she said. "That's up to you. When it feels right to you then that's the right time." "Okay ... I guess. I think we should have a year to get ready first. A year after the course is reopened. Is that alright with you?" "Of course it is. That sounds very sensible. You're still young so it won't be a problem." We both slept well after that. It was another thing that was settled and no longer on our minds. My next important task, beyond buying an engagement ring, was to meet her parents. Eugene was little more than two hours south of Gresham and we chose the next Saturday for me to be introduced. Catherine said they were thrilled that she had found someone and equally pleased that she now had a career that replaced the vagabond life of a golf pro. In their words, she had grown up and decided to settle down. Catherine chose what I felt was a modest or at least understated engagement ring at a well known local jeweler. I asked her more than once if she was happy with it, telling her that cost wasn't an object. I think she knew that but insisted that the ring suited her and she was delighted with it. I ceased my questioning. Fred and Yvonne Walston were what I thought of as a typical middle-class couple. These were the people who made the country go. There was no pretense about them and I liked them instantly upon meeting them. "We have a lot of catching up to do with both of you," Fred said as we sat in the living room of their ranch style home. Yvonne and Catherine were in the kitchen making coffee and some snacks. I could hear them talking but couldn't hear what they were saying. "How did you meet our daughter?" he asked. "Purely by accident. A very happy accident as it turned out." I went on to tell him about playing golf with her, learning of the course that was for sale, involving her in the purchase and then management of our project. It was the short version but he was fascinated and it led to my telling him about my career in Chicago and my reasons for leaving. "Do you think you'll be satisfied with just operating a golf course out here?" he asked. I was pretty sure I knew what he was really asking. Was I going to get bored and go back to my previous life and take Catherine with me? "I won't go back to what I once did. Ten years of that was enough to teach me what I could and couldn't live with. It's already cost me one marriage. I won't let it cost me another. You can count on that. I've already decided this is where I want to live and I don't see anything that will change my mind." Coming From Behind Ch. 09-10 I saw a brief look of relief cross his face and I knew I had guessed correctly at his concern. Yvonne and Catherine had joined us, passing around coffee mugs and home made cookies. I took two ... they were really good. "Where do your parents live?" Yvonne asked. "In Phoenix. Dad took an early retirement from SteelFab in Allentown and moved down there. Like me, he loves to golf and he caught a real good buy when the market collapsed a couple of years ago, so they have a nice home and no mortgage. They're very happy there." "Do you see them often?" she asked. "No, I'm ashamed to say. I let my old job consume all my time and I haven't seen them in a couple of years. I've been talking to them on the phone more regularly lately. Catherine and I plan to visit them as soon as I get through this plan approval stage with the county." She nodded, obviously agreeing it was important to see them before the wedding. "Do you really think you can make this golf course profitable?" Fred asked. "Yes. It's going to take some time and luckily, I'm well financed, so I believe we're set to make it a success. I've got a great administrative manager and a very experienced course manager to make it happen," I grinned looking at Catherine. Fred was shaking his head but with a smile ... a smile equaled by Yvonne. They knew I was referring to Catherine. "So you've given up pro golf then," Yvonne said to Catherine. "Almost. Terry and I enter some local tournaments. He's my caddie and my good luck charm. We've entered three times and have two wins and a third to show for our efforts. We make a great team." "Your daughter is a very good golfer and would have won those with or without me," I said. "I wonder," Fred grinned. "Seems like she needs a little inspiration now and then." He was looking at his daughter as he spoke and she was blushing. We stayed for dinner and had a very nice day with her parents. They genuinely made me feel welcome and it was a great way to start our relationship. I was pretty sure my parents, also of the same generation and social status as the Walstons, would welcome Catherine as well. The drive back to Gresham was in the dark and we talked as I drove. "My parents think I've made a good choice, Terry. They like you. They liked your honesty about your first marriage and why you left your old life." "They are just like my parents," I said. "Nice people with a working background and no phony airs. Maybe that's why it was easy for me to chuck the old job and come out here. I knew that wasn't who I was. I was just pretending." "I fell in love with the Terry you are now. Don't ever change," she said, putting her hand over my arm. "We should visit my parents after the plans are submitted. Are you okay with that?" "Of course. I want to meet them and I'm sure they're going to want to meet me." It had been a relaxing day. No stress at all and I felt I had the acceptance of her parents without reservation. That was a big thing. I couldn't think of any reason why it wouldn't be the same for Catherine with my parents. To Be Concluded