It was my third year in college, and that wonderful month of March rolled around, when spring break comes and the bikinis come out. I had turned twenty-one in October, and my best friend, Scott, was coming down from New York. I was planning on an open sunroof, a cooler of beer, and a weekend of chasing girls all over the Outer Banks of North Carolina. What I got though, was an unexpected surprise.
I was sitting on the couch in my apartment, playing guitar and eating something, when my cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw that it was my sister. I thought this was odd because we never talked all that much even before she graduated and moved away. In fact one could say that we really didn't like each other. But the less we saw of each other the more we got along, and since she lived in Florida that worked out rather nicely.
"Hey Laura, how's it going?" I said as I flipped open the phone. I was kinda wondering what this was about or what she wanted from me. "How'd you get my new cell phone number?"
"I got it from Mom, dumbass," she said with a laugh.
"I love you too," I replied. "So what's up?"
"Well, remember when I said that your birthday present would come late?" she asked.
I did remember now. I had thought it was weird because she usually sent me expensive gifts that I really didn't need, like cigars or more cologne. "Yeah, so...am I gonna receive it now?" I asked with a smile of expectance.
"Well, you will in a week. I'm flying you and Scott down here for a few days to party, and no Mom and Dad this time." I could really hear the smile in her voice. I guess she was waiting for my reaction.
"Holy shit..." I muttered. From what I'd heard, my sister lived very well. She was an executive in some PR firm in Miami. Her husband's parents were extremely rich from some kind of real estate deal years ago. I'd never been down there to see how they lived, but my parents had told me that she had just bought a new Mercedes, and that they lived in a large apartment somewhere downtown. She always was a damn overachiever, I thought with sarcasm as my mind flashed over these details.
"Well....that's fantastic," I said, wondering how this was going to work out. "But...what about Scott? And Mom and Dad? What do they think about all this?"
"We've already cleared it with Scott, and he's definitely on board. Mom and Dad think it's a great opportunity for us to visit. You're coming down on American Airlines, first class all the way. You still having doubts?" I could picture the smirk on her face as she said it, the one she had given me a thousand times before.
"Well hell yes. I'll be there," I said with an ear-to-ear grin.
"Well good. Mom and Dad have your tickets. Chris and I will see you in a week."
***
It was one week later that I found myself on the tee box of the seventh hole at Weston Hills country club outside Fort Lauderdale. It was about eleven-thirty in the morning on a beautiful spring day, and I was loving life. As I considered the wind conditions for my drive, my mind wandered over the preceding few hours.
I had woken up really early in order to catch the seven AM plane out of RDU. Only a double espresso from Starbucks was enough to get me going. It was the first time I'd flown first class, and I had to admit, I liked it. Upon arriving in Fort Lauderdale airport, we were picked up by my brother-in-law and dropped off at the golf course, with instructions to call him when we were winding up our round. Someone had told us that this was the home course of Dan Marino, and it looked it. My reverie was broken by the sound of Scott's voice.
"C'mon man, when the hell are you gonna hit the ball, for chris'sakes?" he shouted from the golf cart.
I grinned and stepped back, addressing the ball. I went into my backswing, and just when I was poised to bring the club down and hammer the ball, I caught some movement in the corner of my eye in the trees on the right edge of the fairway.
I made contact with the ball before I identified what it was, and I instantly regretted making the swing when I was distracted. I sliced the ball badly, but I caught a lucky bounce and it rolled to a stop on the fringe of the fairway, about fifty yards short of Scott's drive. I uncoiled my follow through to the sound of Scott's laughter. More than a little pissed off, I looked carefully to see what the hell it was that had caught my eye.
