December 2019 – Two Years Ago

I was enjoying a warm bowl of soup. I had a date scheduled for tomorrow, but I didn't have any plans tonight, so I'd be taking it easy. Suddenly, my father burst through the front door with the biggest catfish I had ever seen.

"Look what Kevin dragged in," he said as he dropped a large catfish onto the kitchen table.

One barbel landed in my soup. The tendril had snaked its way in, mingling with the noodles and chicken in the bowl. With my appetite vanishing, I got up from my seat, took the bowl, and walked to the sink.

As if on cue, our midnight-black cat, Kevin, leaped on the table and inspected the latest catch.

"Gee, thanks, Dad. But I doubt Kevin could have caught that himself."

"Now, now, Autumn. Kevin may be an old man, but he is still an experienced hunter." Dad walked up to Kevin and scratched the back of his ears. Kevin purred as loud as a lawnmower, which always made me laugh.

"By the by, when I was little, why did we name him Kevin? I mean, that's a ridiculous name for a cat," I said. I clearly offended Kevin at my remark because he shot me a glance of disapproval and stormed off. As he went, I couldn't help but think I should piss him off more often. It was so cute how his little paws stomped on the ground and how he sassily swished his tail. It was almost as if he were my mother, wagging her finger, shaming me for doing something bad.

"Oh, you didn't name Kevin. We found him with the name on his collar, remember?" Dad said as he opened one of the kitchen drawers and grabbed a knife. "He just appeared one day on our doorstep. You were always very persistent until you got what you wanted, even when you were a five-year-old girl. We put up posters all around the city, but his owner never claimed him, so he's been our cat for what, twenty years now? I'm surprised he hasn't died yet."

"Jesus, Dad, you can't say that about our beloved Kevin," I said. What was he thinking, talking about my little old man like that? I'm going to say the same thing when he's older and see how he likes it.

"Sorry, kiddo, but I mean, where's the lie? He's getting up there in age. He could have already kicked the bucket in the room he stormed off to."

"I can't believe you are being so casual about this! Anyway, changing the subject from the impending doom that looms over my kitty. I see you're making your world-famous catfish. What's the special occasion?" I said while drying the clean bowl.

Dad took off his fishing equipment. "You'll be glad to know your cousin Ron is coming over tonight. Hasn't it been a couple of months since you last saw him?" Lifting the fish with a grunt, he said, "He's finally showed off his girlfriend to us."

Placing the bowl in the cabinet, I said, "Wow, this girl must be special. I don't think he has ever brought over a girlfriend to meet you guys. When I met her a while ago, she was nice."

"They'll be here around seven, so make sure you're at the table ready," Dad said before walking outside to fire up the grill. I went up the stairs to my room and shut the door behind me. Kevin was already on the bed, curling into a ball as if he was a knot, slowly getting tighter. I knew he couldn't stay mad at me for too long, or maybe he had Alzheimer's. Nope, not going to think about it.

When I sat down at my desk, I grabbed a hair tie and put my hair up into a ponytail. Putting on my glasses, I turned on my computer to work on my book. Recently, I started working toward my dream of being one of the greatest authors of all time. My first book would be called Kevin's Journey. When I was younger, I had always enjoyed writing stories. When we were kids, I would write stories for my best friend Jackie, Ron, and my neighbor Summer. But what inspired me to start was the relatively new author, Bartholomew Insanis.

Suddenly, I heard a car door close. I went to the window to see if Ron and his girlfriend got here early. To my surprise, it wasn't Ron, but my neighbor across the street, Summer. Getting out of her car in the driveway next to a car I had never seen before, she took her golden hair out of its ponytail. She was wearing all black. I couldn't see from a distance, but I could tell that it complemented her ocean-blue eyes very well. She walked with elegance to the mailbox, her ponytail gracefully swaying side to side as she walked. She made her way to the front door and went inside.

As you can probably tell, I thought pretty fondly of this girl. In fact, back in the day, I had a bit of a crush on her. Sometimes I dreamed about being the captain of a sinking cruise ship, appropriately named the SS Jack & Rose. I safely helped Summer and our twenty surrogate children onto a lifeboat, but I stayed on the ship instead of joining them.

As Summer realized what I was planning, she would beg and plead for me to get on the boat with our small army of offspring. Instead, I would pull the lever. Lowering the lifeboat, I would light a cigarette and proudly say, "No, love, the captain must go down with the ship. Also, babe, please use my life insurance for the kids to go to college. Let's be real here. You won't be able to afford it otherwise." Explosions then erupted behind me, and the ship was destroyed, taking me with it. News broke out, and universities from all over the world would hear about this remarkable story of sacrifice and love.

Countless universities would offer our kids free tuition at their institutions. I might have met a sailor's end, but my kids would have successful careers as doctors, lawyers, engineers, well, except for that one bad apple that dropped out of middle school and now works at a grocery store. Every customer he handles leaves with a mixtape that mysteriously finds its way in their bag. Of course, it's his mixtape, and of course, his beats are trash. That darn kid will make me the laughingstock of Davy Jones's locker.

Alas, those days are long gone. Like I mentioned before, we were very close friends. Summer, Ron, Jackie, and I were all inseparable. We would all play together either at Summer's or my house. We were the four musketeers of our time. It would be just me and Summer exploring the woods.

I don't know if you've heard of a guy named Murphy, but he has a law that you may know about. It's that anything that can go wrong will. And things went very wrong between Summer and me. Therefore, I preferred coleslaw. It was easier on the heart and the stomach.

As I got older, my attraction toward Summer also grew. We spent so much time together that I started to feel a close connection to her. Summer was someone I could rely on, and she listened and understood me. These feelings went on for some time until finally, I worked up the courage and asked her to be my girlfriend.

"I can't, Autumn. I mean, you're my best friend. Don't get me wrong, I love you, of course, but... I don't love you in that way... you know. So, I'm sorry, but I want to stay friends," she said, unable to make eye contact.

"Oh okay, yeah, you're right. Let's be friends," I said. I didn't know what else to say, so I just smiled and pretended everything was okay.

Needless to say, this was not the healthiest choice because the feelings I had bottled up for so long exploded, making an atomic bomb seem like a small firecracker in comparison. The explosion left our friendship in shambles. I said some nasty things and did some even nastier things, so I'm not a complete victim here, but that is neither here nor there.

Most of all, what I'd learned from that experience and others was that I wanted someone like Summer. Someone I could trust to have my back and lick my wounds when I was hurting. I sat at my desk for a little while longer, thinking about where I could find this partner if this date didn't work out tomorrow.

Headlights flashed across my window, knocking me out of my trip down memory lane. I hadn't realized it had already gotten dark. Walking back to the window, I looked down. Ron was getting out of his car, and his girlfriend, Bella, was getting out of the passenger's side. Looks like our guests have finally arrived. Leaving a snoring Kevin on the bed, I went downstairs.