Disclaimers: See part 1.
Questions or comments? mryan12@hotmail.com
Shell Game
By M. Ryan
Part 4
Chris
climbed out of the Volvo and pushed the door closed behind her. Stiffly she walked around to the trunk,
yawning as she pulled out two matching suitcases. The five-hour drive from Burkett Falls to Nashville had given her
more than enough time to overanalyze that last scene with Laura. Between beating herself up for being the
first to step away and cursing Laura for not even making the effort to stop
what was happening, she had fallen into a dark mood, hoping fervently that a
week with her family would brighten it somehow.
She
hefted the suitcases and started for the house, a large, rambling wood-frame
Victorian with a wraparound porch. The
yard was immaculately kept and the smell of freshly cut grass permeated the
summer air. Chris was six when they moved
into the house, and it had stood the ravages of five rambunctious children who
seemed determined to destroy it. She
smiled as she remembered Dan sneaking out one of the upstairs bedroom windows,
only to come crashing through the roof of the porch. That prank had resulted in her oldest brother being grounded for
a month.
Suddenly
the screen door flew open as her youngest brother vaulted out of the house and
over the porch, not touching the ground until he hit the sidewalk.
“Chris!” He was in front of her in an
instant, swinging her around, bags and all.
“’Bout time you came home! God,
you look good. You’re so little!”
Tim
was six and a half feet tall and closer to the three hundred side of two
hundred-fifty pounds. Football was
paying his way through the University of Tennessee, and if he and the NFL had
their way, it would be his first job out of school as well.
“Tiny
Tim, you’re as big as a house. How do
Mom and Dad afford to feed you?”
“Oh
I’ll slim down next month when we have to do two-a-days. This is just preseason pudge.” He set her down fairly gently and took her
bags. “Mom’s thrilled you’re gonna be
here for a week. Didja bring
tapes? We watched the others you
sent. It’s so cool; you look good on
the air. It’s a little weird, because
you’re my sister and it’s kinda like you’re somebody else but you’re still my
sister. I showed some of the guys in
the dorm and they all think you’re hot, but that’s really strange because I don’t ever think of you that way. I mean, well, you know what I mean.”
“I
know what you mean,” Chris murmured and let the chatter wash over her. Tim had always been a talker.
“The
twins are coming over for dinner, don’t know about Danny yet, so Dad put a
brisket on the grill this morning. Mom
made like six gallons of potato salad and we have fresh corn…just a big
picnic…”
“If
you’d hush for a minute, maybe she’d say something.”
Chris
smiled up at her mother standing on the porch.
They shared the same coloring and the same hair, but Amy Hanson’s eyes
were hazel to brown and they sparkled down at her daughter and youngest
son. “It’s like a force of nature. Even if I did say something, he’d just talk
right over me. Hi Mom.” The hug was
welcome contact and she held onto her mother just long enough and tight enough
to prompt a worried look when she let go.
“What have you gotten yourself into?” Her mother asked softly.
“Another
fine mess.” Chris whispered.
Oblivious
to the exchange Tim continued, ”They finished the new track down at the high
school so we could go run in the morning if you wanted. It’s that springy rubber stuff so it won’t
hurt your knees, and there’s a softball tournament next weekend and if you
wanted to, a team might pick you up to fill a slot…”
“Tim.”
“Yes
ma’am?”
“Save
something for later?”
He
blew out a breath and grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry Chris, just glad you’re home.”
“Take
her bags up and finish weed-eating the backyard.”
“You’re
letting him play with power tools?” Chris teased.
“Hey,
the yard is my responsibility now. A
little respect please.”
“And
it looks wonderful.” Amy praised her
youngest son.
Chris
watched him shoulder open the screen door with a fond smile then turned to her
mother. “You look great Mom. Everything all right?”
Amy
took her daughter’s arm and pulled her over to sit on the porch swing. “I’m fine, your Dad is fine, my boys are
fine, it’s my girl I’m worried about.
This trip home was kind of sudden.
You usually give us a little more notice.”
Chris
winced. “Ah, sorry.”
“You
had other plans and they fell through?”
“Sort
of. I didn’t mean to make you feel like
a substitute.”
“Well,
if you can’t run home to lick your wounds where can you run?” Her mother was silent for a moment. “I suppose I should ask you what happened,
but I always hated it when my mother stuck her nose in my business.”
“Very
good ploy, Mom. You’re dying to know.”
Amy
shrugged, “Yes.”
Chris
fidgeted, choosing her words. “I
stepped back before I could be pushed away.
I wanted her to… feel a little of what I was feeling.”
“Did
it make you feel better?”
“Hell
no. And she didn’t try to stop me
either.” Chris looked away, avoiding
her mother’s eyes.
“She.” Amy sighed. ”Well,
I knew you were a lesbian, I just hoped you weren’t practicing.”
“Thanks.”
Chris squirmed. “You make it sound like law or medicine.”
“I’m
trying Chris. I wanted to be there for
you when you got your heart broken by some boy who wasn’t nearly good enough
for you. But it wasn’t some boy. It’s
never going to be some boy. I see that now.
But for all your accidents and broken bones, you managed to steer clear
of a truly broken heart.” Amy pushed a
tendril of blonde hair back from her face and hesitated before going on. “I…always want to ask about who you’re
seeing, but you’re always so…secretive…no, that’s not right. You always hold that part of you away from
us.”
“I
didn’t think you really wanted to know.
I wasn’t being secretive. It’s
just…hard. Practicing? Geez, Mom.”
“What
else would you call it? Of course I
wanted to know. It’s important to you
isn’t it?”
“But
awkward for you.”
“Life
is full of awkward moments, it’s the graceful recovery that counts. I’ve read the books, seen the talk shows,
I’m a teacher, I researched…all because I want to understand.” Amy took a
breath and asked the next question.
“What’s she like? Tell me about
her.”
Chris
crossed her arms as if to protect herself from giving away too much. “She is the most fascinating, complex,
intelligent person I have ever met. She
is fiercely competitive, loyal and determined to succeed.”
“That’s
interesting, Chris, but it sounds more like a cover letter for a resume.”
She
sighed and started again. “She’s tall,
long dark hair, blue eyes. Those eyes
look through you sometimes, like they see something you’d rather they
didn’t. She’s skinny because she
forgets to eat and she has the most beautiful hands.” Chris cleared her throat and continued. “She is always two steps ahead, hard to surprise but almost
childlike in so many respects. She is
arrogant about some things and painfully shy in a group of people she doesn’t
know. She can be the warmest person on
earth, or the coldest.” Chris
swallowed and looked down, “I didn’t
know that you could be so frustrated and infuriated with a person, and still
want to be with them more than anything else on earth.”
She
gritted her teeth before her final revelation.
“She’s my boss. Laura Kasdan.”
“Oh
no. The golfer.”
“And
the GM.” Chris couldn’t keep from
squirming again.
Amy
Hanson drummed her fingers on the armrest of the swing. “Of all my kids, you always got in the worst
scrapes and had the knottiest problems.
Good to know some things are constant.”
Chris remained silent. “Are
you…do you…Oh hell, I don’t know what to ask.
And it’s not about sex, it’s not about you being gay, it’s…do you have
any idea what a mess this is?”
The
answer was soft. “I think I do.”
Her
mother shook her head. “She’s your boss. Did you consider what could happen to
your career? I mean, TV News is a very
closed society, everyone knows everyone else.”
“D’you
think I don’t know that? There isn’t a
single scenario I haven’t played out in my head. And it is about me
being gay.” Chris let the frustration
out in a flood. “There is no way that
this works. There is no happy ever
after, no living together, no open and above board relationship unless one-- or
both of us kiss our respective careers goodbye. Of course all of that is totally immaterial, since she doesn’t
have time for me, doesn’t seem to need me, and I just gave her the royal kiss
off!”
“You
broke up?”
“More
or less. Sorry Mom, didn’t manage to
steer clear of that busted heart after all.”
******************
The Briarwood Golf and Country Club was located right outside Cincinnati. Laura drove the Jeep because it was personal
business and it was important to keep it separate from station business no
matter how much more comfortable the Accord might have been. Charles had arrived earlier on Saturday and
rented a car at the airport. She could
have flown too, but preferred the think time the long drive provided, even
though she would have liked to play more than the one practice round scheduled
for Sunday.
It
was an old and distinguished course, and in keeping with her ritual, Laura kept
her head and eyes down as she made the long walk from the clubhouse to the
first tee, looking up only after she crossed from the cement sidewalk to the
grass and allowing the explosion of the rolling green hills and woods to fill
her entire field of view. Lush and
lovingly cared for, the fairway of the first hole beckoned in welcome. I came
back Mom. Just like you said I
would. She swallowed against the
emotion.
“I
always forget how much I love this course.”
Charles spoke softly beside her.
“I
know. It never seems to change.” She turned and gave a half smile to her
caddy. “Are you ready for this?”
“Sure.” He grinned. “Where’s Chris?” He could have kicked himself when he saw the
twitch in Laura’s jaw.
“Nashville. She’s visiting her parents.”
“But
she’ll be here later?” Charles asked
the question slowly.
“No.” Laura yanked the glove out of her back
pocket and slapped it against her thigh before pulling it on. “I tee off in five minutes.” Bluntly she ended the line of questioning.
“Clubs
are here, we’re ready.” He gestured to
the bag on the ground. There were a few
people milling around but there wasn’t much interest in a practice round at
7:30 on a Sunday morning, even if it was the U.S. Amateur.
She
started down the hill toward the roped off tee box without another word and
with a deep sigh Charles shouldered the bag and followed, debating the course
of action he could take to get the most information and keep Laura’s game in
check. Bug her ‘til she talks, he
decided. It worked before.
“Last
time I talked to Chris, things were good.”
He walked a little faster and caught her, the clubs rattling.
“You
talked to Chris?” Laura eyed him with
what could only be described as suspicion.
“When? Laura Kasdan.” She gave her name, pointed at a line and the
starter checked it off a list attached to a clipboard.
“You’re
up next. You’ll be playing with Angie
Monroe.”
“Thanks. Good to meet you.” She shook hands with her playing partner for the morning. “When?”
Laura repeated her question to Charles.
“Couple
of weeks ago. Said she was in the
middle of Sweeps.”
“Did
you call her or did she call you?”
Laura took the driver Charles handed her and swung loosely.
“She
called. Girl’ll talk your ear off. Said you were busy.”
“Hmm.”
“Said
she wrecked another live truck. You
wanna stay left here, past the oak, don’t go near those briar bushes on the
right.” He gestured toward the area in
question.
“And
split her head open.” She pulled a ball
out of her pocket and bent over to tee it up.
“It’s not like I haven’t played here before.” Stepping back she took aim.
After half a practice swing, she swung for real and sent the ball flying
with a slight fade to the left, placing it exactly where she wanted it in the
middle of the fairway. With a satisfied
nod she waited for Angie to hit, then they both started off to their respective
balls.
“So
everything was cool a couple of weeks ago.
Then what happened?” Charles
pushed the cap back on his head.
“Work.”
“Just
work? Gotta be something else. What about money? What about sex? That’s
what people argue about.” Charles noted
the two hundred-yard marker and kept track of his paces until they reached her
ball. “One eighty. You’ll need the five.”
“You’re
asking me about sex?” They waited for
Angie to hit and heard her groan as the ball took a bad bounce right of the
green and into the sand trap.
“You
do have sex, don’t you? Pin is dead
center and there’s no wind.” He kept
his voice down in the low golfer conversation tone both of them were used to
and Laura gave him a withering glance before hitting a high shot that landed in
the middle of the green, giving her an excellent chance for a birdie.
“Sex
is not the problem. The sex is
incredible.” She felt the blush and
winced as she handed him the five iron and took her putter.
“Really?”
“Really.” They waited again for Angie to hit out of
the sand trap.
“I
can’t believe you just volunteered that.”
Charles smirked.
“Neither can I. But I seem to be surprising myself all the time these days.”
“So
what’s the problem? It’s gonna break
right a little, but not as much as you think.” He pulled the pin and settled it
across his shoulders.
“Yeah, about two inches. It’s…she thinks I don’t need her because I
don’t make time to be with her. She
thinks everything gets my attention but her.
She’s right about the time thing, but I can’t do anything about it. And she has fun without me. I’m so jealous about that I can’t even see
straight half the time. It was a
helluva lot easier when I didn’t feel all
this stuff.” She walked around the
green, eyeing her six-foot putt from all angles. She crouched down and squinted from the ball to the hole.
Charles
leaned down behind her and said softly, “Do you want to do something about it?”
She
turned to look at him before slowly standing.
“Yes. But I don’t have the
foggiest idea what to do.” And with that she tapped the ball into the
hole for a birdie.
Well,
that was easy, Charles thought sadly.
They
sat in the clubhouse after they finished, drinking water and going over the
round. A six under par 66 left Laura
well pleased and confident about they way she was playing. “Don’t get cocky.” Charles warned. “You always play well here.”
“I
know. It’s almost therapeutic
though.” She leaned back and drank
deeply from the bottle.
“How
do you do that?”
“What?”
“Any
of it. How can you separate everything
from your golf?” Charles frowned in
frustration. “I know I’ll never be able
to play as a pro because I just don’t have the mental game. It disappoints Dad, I think.”
“Louis
is not disappointed in you. You’re a
wonderful teacher.”
“But
I’ll never have the game that you have.
I will never be able to turn everything off with the exclusion of my
golf game and pursue it with the single-mindedness that you do.”
Laura’s
eyes narrowed. “It’s not always an
admirable skill.”
“Ah. So it occurs to you that it may not be the
be all, end all of your existence.”
“Stop
it. Didn’t you get enough details out
on the course? I know this already.”
Laura snarled in frustration. “I keep
thinking that if I can just get past the next event, the next crisis that
everything will be fine. But it’s not
fine. It’s never fine.”
“Do
you wish yourself back?” Charles asked softly.
“No.” Laura sighed. “But I can’t wish myself out of this mess either.” Glumly, she
sat and stared at her half eaten sandwich when she was interrupted by a vaguely
familiar voice.
“Well
Laura, thought I’d see you here. A good
opening round for you, but I still beat you by one stroke.” Diane Hilary pulled off her visor and shook
her blonde hair loose from her ponytail.
“It’s
Kaz, and congratulations on your round.
This is Charles Cryer, my caddy.”
“Charles.” She acknowledged the caddy with a nod then
proceeded to ignore him. “I hope I get
a chance to play against you here. It’d
be fun, don’t you think?”
Laura
nodded. “Sure. I’d like to see you play.”
“Mm. We start match play tomorrow. You’re not really used to that, are you?”
“I
can hold my own.” She replied evenly.
“It’s
a different mindset, you know.”
Laura
snorted in irritation and Charles leaned back in his chair, enjoying the
sparring. “I’ve managed to do all right
in the past.”
Diane
pursed her lips. “Exactly. That’s in the past. I’ll see you around.” She turned and gestured at the caddy that
was waiting off to the side. He stayed
a step behind her as she left the dining room.
“What
a little shit.” Charles shook his head
in disbelief. “Bowhead. That’s what
they’re like now. All arrogance and…”
“She’s
good though.” Laura wiggled her jaw
thoughtfully. “She does well here, then
turns pro. She’ll get a few tournament exemptions, some endorsements. Good looking girl, lotta
personality…press’ll eat that up and voila, female Tiger Woods.”
“You’ve
got to be kidding.”
“No,”
Laura mused. “She’s what the LPGA
needs. Someone flashy, not a stodgy
golf matron. If she wins, of course.”
Charles
crossed his arms. “You aren’t a stodgy
golf matron.”
“I’m
not on tour either.”
*******************
“Who’s
got the Sports Section?” Daniel Hanson
was a big, even- tempered man. Tall, but not bulky, he kept in shape by hard
work and keeping up with his children.
Dressed in blue jeans and a polo shirt he pulled a chair out from the
table and sat, one hand reaching for a cup of coffee from his wife and the
other for a section of the paper not already claimed by Chris or Tim.
“I
do.” Chris folded it and handed it
over. “Do you get The Deuce? ESPN 2?”
“Yep,”
Tim answered. “It’s on 49. What’s up?”
“Just
wondering.” Chris caught her mother’s eye
as she joined them and cleared her throat.
“Actually, my boss is playing in the Women’s U.S. Amateur. I thought I’d watch a little.”
“That’s
the Kasdan woman?” The sound of her
father’s rumble startled Chris for a moment.
“That’s
the one.”
He
looked up with a raised eyebrow. “You
went to Mississippi to cover her in the U.S. Open, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” She held her breath and waited for what was
next.
“Helluva
grinder.”
Chris
furrowed her brow and considered the statement. “Uh, Dad? What exactly
does that mean?”
Her
father rustled the paper and snorted.
“Means she doesn’t fool around.
Gets up and hits. Just keeps at
it until things work the way she wants.
Bet she’s like that at work too.
Doesn’t take crap from anyone.”
He looked up, a wry smile on his face.
“I’ll bet you make her a little crazy.”
“A
little,” she said softly.
“Hmm.” He snorted again before turning his
attention back to his paper. Nothing
else was forthcoming and Chris wondered if she should pursue the subject. She looked up at her mother, raising her
eyebrows in question. Amy shrugged as
she set a cup of coffee in front of her husband.
“Hey
Chris?” Tim began eating his cereal.
“Yeah.”
“You
taking up golf?”
“Not
a chance.”
***************************
On
Tuesday Laura was on her second qualifying round, having finished the previous
day with another six under par 66. She
was comfortable and confident. In fact,
everything would have been perfect if she could talk to Chris and if her caddy
would just shut up. “Do you know what
your problem is?” Charles asked as they
trudged up to the eighteenth tee.
“I’m
shifting my weight too soon?”
“No,
you’re playing great.”
“Since
I’ve started counting, you’ve asked me if I know what my problem is nine
times. You’ve filled me in on my
shortcomings on each of those occasions.
I now know that I’m stubborn, I take myself too seriously, I’m obsessive
compulsive, a control freak, intolerant, bitter, and I snore. Did I miss anything?”
Charles
smirked. “You forgot picky and
selfish.”
“Thank
you.” Laura said dryly. “I suppose you’re going to add to the tally
now?” She wiped her hands on the towel
slung over Charles’ shoulder and took the driver out of the bag. “Where’s the pin today?”
He
pulled a distance book out of his back pocket.
“Center left. Approach from the
right side of the fairway.” They stood
and waited for the group to clear the green. “It’s playing 331 today,” He added
as Laura leaned on her club.
“I
could drive it.” She mused.
“I’d
like to see that.” Charles smiled.
It’s a stupid
thing to do. Oh hell. She had the honor of hitting first and
went through her short pre-shot routine quickly before her final setup and
swing. Sometimes she knew the minute
she made contact that it was going to be good.
The ball left with a whoosh to the appreciative murmurs of the small
cluster of spectators gathered around the teebox. It bounced once in front of the green and trickled up to stop
some twenty feet from the hole. Laura
closed her eyes in relief. She was going
to survive and qualify for the next round easily. She handed the driver back to Charles with a short laugh at the
look of wonder on his face. They
watched the other two players hit and Laura took a sip of water before turning
to the caddy. “So, what is my problem?”
Charles
shook his head and the started down the fairway. “You don’t appreciate your own worth.”
“Of
course I do. I know what I’m worth and
what I will be worth.”
“As
a news director, a golfer or a GM.”
“Don’t
forget Vice President. That comes with
the GM deal. What else is there?”
They
stopped and waited for the two women to hit on to the green. Charles reached up and brushed a few blades
of grass off Laura’s shoulder.
“Considerably more.”
A
bitter shrug. “It’s what I am.”
“Yeah,
it’s what you are, but not all you
are.”
“Why
can’t you just carry the clubs and help me read the distances and greens?”
Charles
set the bag down and handed over the putter, his point made. “Sink the putt, Little Kaz.”
She
missed but it didn’t matter. Her two
round qualifying score was 133, 2 strokes better than Diane Hilary and lowest
in the field.
***********************
Chris
was dozing on the couch when Tim landed on one end and the bounce woke her
up. “What round is this?” He snatched
the remote and turned up the volume.
Groggily
she cleared her throat.
“Quarterfinals.”
“How’s
she doing?”
“Pretty
much destroying the field. Since she
came out of the qualifying rounds, I don’t think she’s even played a complete
round.”
“I
don’t get it.”
Chris
sighed before imparting her newfound knowledge. “It’s match play, not stroke play. They play one-on-one; you just count the holes you win, not the
overall number of strokes. So it’s
possible to win the first ten holes and since they only play eighteen, there’s
no way to come back.”
“So
how would you score that?”
“10
and 9. Ten holes up with nine to play.
“Got
it. So how’s she doing?”
Chris
knew the answer by heart. “7 and 6, 5 and 4, 7 and 6 so far after three
matches. She hasn’t had to play past the 14th hole. It’s interesting because they’ll play 36
holes for the final.”
“And
this round?”
Chris
gestured as the score flashed on the screen.
“She’s up by 4 holes on the ninth.”
“Damn.” Tim and Chris didn’t move from the sofa for
the next hour. ESPN 2 was following
Laura pretty closely, so they kept going back to her match regularly. There were still almost no crowds and Chris
wondered if that helped Laura to focus.
There, Charles said something to
make her laugh. She watched as her
boss stripped of her glove and slapped it once against her thigh. It was odd to watch someone so far away and
still know the intimate details of their behavior. Does she feel like this
when she watches me during a ‘cast?
Remote but close? Weird.
Laura
finished the match 5 and 4. Chris and
Tim wrestled briefly for possession of the remote and after Chris was forced to
surrender because of her brother’s superior bulk, strength and because he
tickled her mercilessly, she scrambled off the couch and went outside where her
mother was watering the flowerbeds. The
late afternoon sun bathed the front of the house in warm light and Chris
stretched as she stood on the step and watched. No matter how many times she told herself not to expect a phone
call or some other kind of contact, she just grew more and more disappointed
that Laura didn’t even try to make an effort.
She gave herself a mental shake and resolved to forget and move on, even
though her obsession over a sport she really didn’t like had not gone unnoticed
by the others in the household.
“Is
it over for the day?” Her mother sent
her a brief glance.
“Yep. She won.
On to the next round.”
“I
swear, you haven’t moved off that couch since you got here. You’re turning into a lump.”
“I
ran this morning.” Chris used one hand
to shield her eyes as she looked down the street. Other considerations wandered through her mind and she abruptly
asked a question. “Mom, is Dad
disappointed in me?”
Her
mother looked down as she adjusted the sprayer on the hose. “Not disappointed. We don’t really talk about it.
He tries to be open minded, but I think he’s old fashioned enough to
want to give his little girl away at a nice wedding.” The sprayer fixed, she pointed it at another bed. “He thinks that
you don’t visit enough and that you feel uncomfortable when you do. He hates that.”
“It’s
not…”
“I
know.” Her mother interrupted. “He’s
enormously proud of you. All the men at
the shop ask about you and he shows the tapes sometimes. He won’t pry and sometimes he doesn’t say
much, but he loves your company, same as I do.
Don’t stay away so long next time.”
“I’ll
try.” Chris sighed.
****************************
Laura
was running scared in the semifinal round.
She was down 2 holes after 4 and couldn’t seem to drive the ball
straight to save her life. Sonia Neal
was the Mid Amateur Champion from the previous year and the first African
American to hold that title. Charles was
besotted. So much so that Laura was
starting to get irritated.
“Nine.” She snapped her fingers twice and held out
her hand.
“Sorry.”
“C’mon
Charles. You’re supposed to be caddying
for me.”
“I
just feel bad ‘cause you’re going to beat her and she’ll never go out with me.”
It
broke the tension and Laura smiled wryly.
“How could she resist?”
“Go
for the back of the green. Pin’s back
there on the left and you don’t want to be on the lower level on the
front.” He twitched a little as he
waited and Laura shook her head with some amusement. A little more relaxed, she hit the ball to within four feet of
the hole and won it when Sonia three putted.
Better. Get your head back in this thing.
By
the time they reached the turn, the match was all square and stayed that way
until the seventeenth hole. Neither was
playing badly, in fact, Laura would have been at 6 under par and Sonia at 5 if
it were stroke play. Instead, whether
the hole was won by one stroke or by three, the golfers only got credit for
winning the hole. So far, neither was
budging.
Why does
number seventeen always seem to be a par 3 with water damn near every place I
play? Is that in the course builder’s
rulebook or something? Laura took the
five wood from Charles and made an easy practice swing. “No wind.
High and soft.”
“Yeah,
but don’t be short.” Charles handed her
the ball he just cleaned. Laura still
had the honor since she won the last hole back at eight, so she set up slightly
behind the tee marker on the right and hit exactly the shot she wanted. It was strong and high, landing softly below
the hole where it stopped almost immediately.
Handing the club back to Charles, she waited for Sonia to hit.
Pretty
swing, was Laura’s first thought. But
Sonia hit slightly behind the ball and it didn’t quite carry the lake. Laura crossed her arms and looked away from
the other girl’s apparent distress, the splash prompting groans from a few of
the spectators. With admirable poise
she took another ball from her caddy and this time it landed solidly on the
green. Unless Laura three-putted there
was virtually no way for Sonia to win the hole, so she conceded when Laura left
her putt two inches past the hole and they both walked to the eighteenth with
Laura up by one.
They
halved the last hole; both shooting par and the match was over. Laura congratulated Sonia sincerely, knowing
there was really no consolation for the other girl but fairly certain that
she’d be successful if she wanted to make golf her profession. She and Charles watched Sonia and her caddy
trudge out of the scorer’s tent then turned to check the progress of the other
semifinal match. Diane Hilary was
coming in, winning her match easily at 4 and 3.
“Gonna
be a bowhead kind of day tomorrow.”
Charles noted wryly.
“Gee. Never saw that coming.”
“So
what’s next boss?”
Laura
checked her watch. “It’s 3:10, guess
you’re free till tomorrow morning at 9.”
“And
what about you?” Charles asked.
Laura
took off her hat and ruffled the bangs that were damp with sweat. “Practice range. This sure is different from the Open. No crowds.” There were a
few people milling about, and a small group had followed them through the
match, but for the most part it was a low-key event.
“It’s
okay, tomorrow is Saturday. There’ll be
crowds then.” Charles watched somberly
as Laura emptied her pockets, gave the spare tees and divot tool over to the
caddy and tucked her glove into one of the compartments of the bag. “A mob in fact.” She didn’t say anything and Charles shifted his weight. “Call her.”
“No.”
“Why
not?”
“She…walked. I don’t think…”
“Scared?”
“No.”
she snarled.
“Sure
you are. You should be. What if she decides you’re not worth the trouble?”
“I’m
not.” She didn’t look up.
“You
are.” Charles clapped her softly on the
shoulder. “To me, to my Dad and to
Chris. You just have to decide that
golf and your job are not all there is to life.” He shouldered the bag.
“I’ll drop this off at the range.
Leave ‘em in the locker room if you want me to clean ‘em before the
round in the morning. And call
her. Just say you miss her and you’re
thinking about her. Then tell her she’s
a hottie.”
“You
can stop any time now.”
“Hey,
you’re the one who said the sex was incredible.”
“Ah,
that just slipped out.”
Charles
laughed and turned to walk away. With a
look back over his shoulder he smirked, “I’m not sure I knew that you could
blush before this week. Tell her I said
hello.”
Laura
knew she was snarling again, but Charles didn’t respond, he just kept
walking. Call her and tell her what? I’m
miserable? I can’t sleep but it’s
really helping my game? Things’ll
change? She stood there alone and
miserable wondering why going back to the way things used to be was never going
to work again.
From
beside the eighteenth green she looked down the fairway and watched Diane
Hilary march up to the scorer’s tent with her caddy. A good-sized crowd followed behind her dejected competitor and
Laura gave a slight smile in sympathy.
Charlotte Jeffries was a highly touted sixteen-year-old who had played
over her head the entire week. She was
easy pickings for the experienced Diane Hilary. Laura remembered the feeling all too well of being blown away by
another golfer with more game, more experience, and no time for a semifinal
match against a much weaker opponent. That could be you tomorrow.
So you’d quit
on a blonde anchor? It was all so
difficult and Laura wanted easy for a change.
She crossed her arms and ran a thumb over an eyebrow as a plan began to
form. Tee time was at 9am and it was
after three. She had a little less than
eighteen hours. What the hell, I won’t sleep anyway.
***************************
Chris’
twin brothers Mike and Mark were over for dinner and even her oldest brother
Danny had dropped by after working late to rewire an audio board at one of the
recording studios. Music City was a
boom market for a family full of electricians.
Of the Hanson children, only Chris showed no aptitude in the trade. Even Tim worked as an assistant from time to
time, but Chris had nearly started a fire with her 4-H lamp project and none of
the Hanson males were eager to see the experience repeated.
Dinner
was a raucous affair and after the rest of the family had settled in the den
the dishwashing duty was assigned to the twins who were very efficient and had
the kitchen clean in no time. Amy had
rented a couple of movies but the brothers were arguing about baseball and the
Braves, Tim’s real contribution to Tennessee’s national championship and
various other sport mysteries of the universe. Chris lay stretched out on the carpet with her hands behind her
head listening and wondering how Laura would take all of it; the good-natured
ribbing, the ease of interaction and the volume. Especially the volume.
She
closed her eyes and sighed. When did it all get so hard? Her mind skipped ahead as if imagining
the introduction. This is Laura, my girlfriend.
Yep, I’m a big ol’ dyke. Didn’t
the softball give it away? She
shook her head absently. Doesn’t matter anyway.
Despite
the noise, she’d almost drifted off to sleep when she heard the front
doorbell. Since her mother had gone
upstairs and the sports argument was heating up, Chris scrambled up to answer
it. One
of Tim’s buddies. It wasn’t dark so
she didn’t flip on the porch light before flinging open the door only to
discover that her mouth could go dry in an instant. For a moment she stood and stared before finally speaking. “You’re a long way from where you’re
supposed to be.”
“278
miles to be exact. Picked up an hour
because of the time change.” Laura
didn’t know why she mentioned the time difference, only that it seemed
important.” It’s all about time isn’t it? Without
conscious effort, she caught Chris’ floral scent, whatever it was, and it
almost made her knees buckle.
“You
drove?”
“I
hate flying.” Laura didn’t quite know
what to do next, so she stuck her hands in the pockets of her khaki
shorts. “I uh…had six or seven speeches
prepared when I pulled into the drive here but I can’t for the life of me
remember any one of them.”
“Uh
huh.” Chris tried to project an air of
indifference, certain that Laura could tell that she was having difficulty
breathing.
“Charles
said to tell you hello.” Laura tried a
different angle.
“Does
Charles know you’re here?”
“Not
exactly.”
“How
not exactly?”
“He
doesn’t know.”
“So
what’s going to happen when you don’t show up tomorrow?” Chris arched an eyebrow in question.
“Look,
this isn’t going exactly how I planned it.”
“How
did you plan it?”
Laura
blew out a breath in exasperation. “I was supposed to come in, surprise you,
sweep you off your feet and take you back with me. I thought you’d be impressed or something, that I dropped
everything, at considerable risk I might add, to come and see you in
person.”
“So?”
“So
you’re supposed to be amazed, we’re both supposed to choke out some kind of
apology and it’s suddenly hit me that there isn’t a quick fix…are you going to
just ask questions or are you going to contribute to this conversation at all?”
“I
am contributing. You just need to
answer. What do you want from me? From
this… whole relationship deal?”
Laura
turned away to consider for a second.
“I want a friend and a playmate and all that?” She wanted to wince at the inadequacy of the statement but
couldn’t form what she really wanted to say, so it just hung there for a long
moment, trite and incomplete.
“Why
is that a question?” Chris finally
stepped out on to the porch and closed the door with one look back to the den
where her brothers were still arguing and took a deep breath. “I want your attention and your time, not
24-7-365, but I want you to consider me part of your life. I want to go to sleep with you, wake up with
you, play with you, work with you and watch you accomplish everything you set
your sights on and you to do the same for me.
What part of that bothers you?”
“You
forgot sex.”
“I
didn’t forget sex. I’ll get to
that. And it’s always sex.”
“It’s
not always sex.” Laura could feel the
heat on her face.
“What
I mean is that you always just call it sex, we have sex, and we talk about
sex.” Chris dropped her voice. “For the record, I make love with you.”
Laura
opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out and Chris continued. “Despite the apparent chaos, I had a very
nice life going on until you showed up…A few discreet dates, a job I love and
if I couldn’t be out and about, that wasn’t really
a problem, there wasn’t anybody I cared enough about to run the risk.”
“Sorry,”
Laura mumbled. It seemed like an
appropriate moment for an apology.
“Yeah
well, my life has become one resolution after another: I will not
call, I will not wait, I will not send email. Of course I always give in ‘cause if I
waited for you I’d be waiting forever.”
Chris paused feeling a little better, but not much. “So I hate myself for being weak and giving
in, and you just go on because nothing seems
to phase you.”
Laura
blinked. “You’re so wrong. I can’t seem to do anything right. I want to see you all the time, I want to
tell you everything that’s going on, and it’s all I can do to stay out of the
newsroom. I hate being the GM.” Laura almost spat out the sentiment. “I hate the meetings, the paperwork, the
budgets, the problems, the corporate VP bullshit that comes with the fucking
title and most of all I hate the time it sucks out of my life. It never mattered before but it does
now. The only thing that makes it
bearable is that you’re upstairs.” She
clenched her jaw so tightly it hurt.
“But
how am I supposed to know that?” Chris’
question was soft in its frustration. “Tell me.
Most of the time it feels like you’re pushing me away. I know
you can get along all right without me, but I can’t always be the one to
bridge the gaps.” She stared into Laura’s blue eyes as if
willing the other woman to understand.
“And you can blame the job, but most of the time you’re pretty
unreachable.”
“Distance
wise or emotionally?”
“Either
or, take your pick.” Chris furrowed her
brow before continuing. “My point
is…hell, it’s really your point. There
is no quick fix. No resolution. There’s only trying to make it work.” She crossed her arms as if to protect
herself from more hurt. “Or we both
walk away.”
“No.”
“No
what?”
Laura
shook her head emphatically. “There is
no walking away. Not for me.” She flexed her hands, the ache in her chest
spreading to her thumbs. It was more
than cold fear, it was the creeping emptiness of a life without the other
woman.
“Why? It’d be easiest for you.” Chris put the option on the table and
waited.
Laura
gave a short humorless laugh.
“How? I can barely manage to go
ten minutes without thinking about you.
Don’t talk to me about easy.
Easy is running a newsroom or sinking a stupid putt.” She sat down on the step giving Chris the
height advantage and tilted her head back to look up at the blonde woman. “More than anything, I want this to
work. I can apologize for making you
feel unimportant in my life. They’re
your feelings and you’re…well, you feel what you feel. But that’s not the case. You are the single most important person in
my life…don’t ever doubt that.” Laura
looked down and let out a frustrated breath.
“But the time thing is an
issue, and it’s not going to go away.”
“I
know.” Chris said it softly. “But you’re the boss, you can make a little
time to live your life.”
“Now
you’re making it sound easier than it is.”
“It
isn’t easy but it’s not as hard as you make it out to be.” Chris sat down next to Laura and pretended
to play with the laces on her shoes.
“We need to stop doing this.”
“What?”
“Being
crossed up. I don’t like it.”
“I thought you were talking about having
profound conversations on porches.”
Chris
smiled, “There is that. They’re so public.”
She swallowed. “What will happen
when we go back?”
“I
don’t know.” Laura wrapped her arms
around her knees as a substitute for Chris.
“I just know that I don’t want to hurt you, and I have.”
“Yes.”
Chris nodded and took one of Laura’s hands in hers. “And you will hurt me again. Most likely I will hurt you too. We’ll deal with it. But don’t shut me out.” She cleared her throat as she heard the
screen door open behind her. This’ll be a first. She rose slowly and pulled Laura
up. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Laura
Kasdan. Laura, this is my mom, Amy
Hanson.”
Amy
looked up at the much taller woman and pursed her lips. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but it’s really
more curiosity.”
Laura
didn’t know what to say in the face of such blatant honesty and she felt a
sudden awkwardness as it suddenly occurred to her that maybe dropping in on Chris’
family wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had.
“Sorry to barge in on a family evening.”
“I
thought you were playing in the final tomorrow? Where is it? Cincinnati?”
“Yes
ma’am.” Laura wanted to squirm at the
sensation of being quizzed by a teacher.
“I uh, needed to work some things out with Chris.”
“And
did you?”
“Mom,
please.”
Laura
swallowed. “It’s okay, Chris. I’m sorry to cause you concern, Mrs.
Hanson.”
“It’s
Amy.” Laura didn’t say anything as she
endured the frank appraisal. Finally
Chris’s mother seemed to come to a decision.
“You probably could stand a few hours sleep before you head back. We’ve got a spare bedroom in back.”
“Thank
you, but I don’t want to put you out.”
“It’s
no trouble,” was the polite evasion.
“Just come on in when you’re ready.
It’s a four hour drive, so just leave plenty of time.”
Chris
watched as her mother slipped back into the house and frowned
thoughtfully. “Well, that didn’t go too
badly.”
“I’m
sorry, I didn’t really think things through.
I forgot that your family maybe didn’t know…”
“No,
it’s not a problem. But she’s right,
it’s at least a four hour drive back.”
“If
I speed…”
“And
you did.”
Laura
sighed, “Will you come back with
me? I’d like for you to be there.”
Chris
leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, smiling slightly. “It took you for fucking ever to ask.”
“But
you waited.”
“This
time.”
“I
thought I didn’t have to ask.”
“This
time I wanted you to.”
Laura
made a conscious effort not to roll her eyes.
So this is what guys mean when
they say they don’t understand women. “So
will you come?”
“Okay.”
“Just
like that?”
“Yep.” Chris stepped forward and pressed a soft
kiss on Laura’s jaw. “Much as I’d like
to, we cannot neck on my parent’s porch.”
“Probably
not a good idea.”
“Well,
the neighbors are used to a certain amount of soap opera-ish behavior from our
house. One of Danny’s girlfriends took
a lug wrench to the windshield of his Mustang when he broke up with her. It was really a surprise because she always
seemed so quiet.”
“Good
God.”
“It
seemed pretty white-trashy at the time, but this is after all, Nashville.”
Laura
gave a short laugh. “Sounds like an interesting way to grow up.”
“It
was.” Chris exhaled in
resignation. Time to meet the brothers. “C’mon,
you haven’t eaten, have you?”
“No.”
It
wasn’t as bad as it could have been, Chris thought. If the men were curious about Laura’s sudden appearance, they
didn’t ask. Tim peppered her with
questions about the upcoming match and she quizzed him on football. Chris’
father asked about the decision to put his daughter on all three prime time
newscasts and her mother wanted to know the real story behind the wrecked live
trucks. All in all, it was fairly
entertaining and when Amy showed Laura to one of the spare bedrooms, she was a
little more at ease. “Thank you for
this,” Laura said sincerely when Chris’ mother gave her an old t–shirt of Tim’s
to sleep in.
“It’s
no trouble. I expect I’ll see you when
you come back by on Sunday to pick up Chris’ car. Towels are in the linen closet right next to the bathroom.” Amy paused at the door. “Good luck tomorrow.” Then added, “Chris was
pretty upset when she got here.”
Oh boy. Laura braced herself for the coming
lecture.
“We
used to joke that Chris had a charmed life.
For some reason, even though she’s a disaster magnet, things always seem
to work out for her. I hope that streak
continues as far as you’re concerned.”
Amy was gone before Laura could frame a suitable reply.
Chris
met her as she was coming down the hall. “Everything all right?”
Her
mother waved a hand in frustration. “I
don’t know what the etiquette is in a situation like this. She’s your…whatever…”
“Girlfriend? Love of my life?”
“Very
well.” Amy pursed her lips.
Chris
gave a tight smile. “Don’t worry
Mom. I’m down the hall on my chaste
little twin bed. No hanky panky, no
practicing, nothing. We’ll leave in a
couple of hours and just run back by on Sunday.”
“That’s
not what I meant.”
Chris
shrugged. “I know you’re trying. I can’t ask for more than that.” She watched her mother go down the steps
then stood quietly in the hall listening to Laura move around in the back
room. The reality was that nothing was
settled, not with her family and not with Laura but she was too stubborn to
veer off course now.
********************
“Sure
you don’t want me to drive?” Chris put
her feet up on the dash and crossed her arms.
There was nothing like riding in the Jeep at night with the top down and
she took a deep breath, enjoying the summer scents as they rushed by in the
dark at close to eighty miles an hour.
“Nah. I hate being a passenger.”
“Never
would’ve guessed that. Nervous?”
“Yes.” Laura’s answer was clipped.
“Why?”
“Dunno. I can play that course in my sleep.” She slid a glance over to the blonde
anchor. “You’ll be watching, maybe
that’s it.”
“Okay. Thought it was the prospect of my
driving. We could’ve taken the
Volvo.” Chris yawned feeling both
comfortable yet very aware in Laura’s company.
“It’s a little less rough. How
old is this thing anyway?”
“It’s
an ’86. Last year they made the
CJ7.” Laura tapped the knob on the
stick shift. “My father gave it to me. Came in one day and tossed me the keys. I was in high school at the time and we’d
been feuding about something. Told me
he’d take it away just as quick if I misbehaved. Mom hated it. Said it was
a deathtrap and I was going to flip it over.
I always wanted a Jeep though, the real one not a Cherokee.”
“So
why not get a new one?”
“Ah,
the new ones are all plastic and this one’s just good and broken in.”
Chris
was quiet for a moment. “You don’t talk
much about your dad. I get little
snippets about your mom from time to time, but you don’t mention him very
much.”
Laura
considered the statement and cleared her throat. “It’s hard. We were both
torn up when Mom died and neither one of us was dealing with it very well. I should have tried to talk to him before he
left for Bosnia, but I…” she grimaced, “It was easier not to. Then when he was killed, no one called to
tell me, it was just there on one of the wire stories. The video feed came down and one of the
editors yelled at a bunch of us in the newsroom to come and watch a sniper blow
some guy away.”
“God,”
Chris breathed.
“Yeah.” Laura squeezed the steering wheel in
remembrance. “I knew it was him almost
immediately. They shipped the body back
and I buried him next to Mom in Austin.”
Chris
stared out the window, mulling over the story and the matter of fact way that
Laura told it. Lot of guilt there I
think. She tried to imagine losing
both her parents within a few months of each other and swallowed back the
sudden pain the idea brought with it.
“We
should’ve taken the Volvo.”
“What? Why?”
Chris’ thoughts were interrupted with a violent bounce as Laura jerked
the Jeep over to the shoulder.
“’Cause
we’ve got a flat.”
Chris
groaned as Laura scrambled out, then she followed. Sure enough, the tire on the back passenger side was flat as a
pancake. “Are we ever going to get a
break?”
“Shit. I’m thinking that I cut it a little close
anyway. We don’t have time for
this.” Laura leaned over the back and
yanked the jack out of the storage compartment along with the lug wrench, a
length of pipe and a flashlight. “Okay,
spare off first. You hold the
flashlight.”
“Wait,
wait, wait.” Chris plucked the lug
wrench out of Laura’s over full hands.
“I’ll change the tire.”
“I
don’t think so.”
“C’mon,
think about this. You bust a knuckle,
mess up your hands and we might as well turn back. It’s no big deal, I’ve done it a zillion times before.”
“Why
am I not surprised?”
With
a gentle nudge she moved Laura away from the spare mounted on the back and
started loosening the lugnuts. “A
little light here please.”
Laura
pointed the flashlight, still a little off balance at having the momentary
crisis taken out of her hands. “Counter
clockwise.”
“I
know, righty tighty, lefty loosey.” She
pocketed the lugnuts and pulled the spare free letting it bounce a couple of
times before controlling it and rolling it to the side. There was almost no traffic but she pulled
Laura to the side of the Jeep away from the highway and started on the
lugs. “Damn, they’re tight.”
“Use
the cheater bar.” Laura held out the
length of pipe. “It’ll give you more leverage.”
“I
got it. What a great idea.” Chris swore sharply as she scraped her
knuckles once, but she had the nuts loosened in no time, the jack working and
the Jeep in the air. Laura smiled in
wonder, impressed by the efficiency.
“You are good at this.”
“Don’t
act so surprised.” The flat was taken
off and the spare put on in its place.
In just a few minutes the Jeep was back on the ground and Chris was
tightening the lugs. “I’m not a total
klutz.”
“Never
thought you were but that was worthy of a NASCAR pit crew.”
“Yeah? I had a little Toyota when I was in school
and it always had a flat. Got pretty
good at changing them and still making my 8:00 class.” Chris tossed the tools back into the
storage compartment as she explained, then gently reached up and caught Laura’s
chin with her thumb and forefinger. “I’m wild about you. I shouldn’t have run like that but I had to
figure some things out for myself too.”
Laura
couldn’t ask. There was still some
security in not knowing all the answers; all she could do was return the rough
kiss that Chris gave her.
“You’d
better call Charles and tell him we’re running late.” Chris ran one finger across Laura’s jaw and turned to walk to the
passenger side.
“Charles?”
“Your
caddy. Are you okay to drive?”
“Sure.” One
kiss and my brains are scrambled. You
are such an adolescent. Laura shook
her head to clear it and climbed back into the Jeep
************************************
It
was overcast and gloomy and Charles could almost smell a storm when he checked
his watch again. It was 8:45 and still
no sign of Laura and Chris. While he
applauded Laura’s effort to chase after Chris, her timing left a lot to be
desired. He glanced over to where Diane
Hilary was standing with her caddy and tried not to look as nervous as he
felt. There was a large crowd already
gathered around the tee box and more people lining the fairway. He shifted his feet anxiously and checked
his watch again.
“She
gonna show?” One of the course marshals
leaned in close and asked the question in a low voice.
“She’d
be pretty stupid not to.”
“I’ve
seen stranger things.”
Charles
gave a weak laugh as the marshal moved away.
C’mon Kaz! He caught Diane Hilary staring at him
but he kept his face blank, understanding that the caddy could give away as
much as the player and not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing his
discomfort. He flipped the towel over
his shoulder and turned at a ripple of commotion in the crowd. He breathed a sigh of relief at the tall
figure pushing through. “I should kill
you but I’ll wait till later.” He muttered.
Laura
smiled as she reached the caddy. “Not
worried were you?” Charles held a thumb
and forefinger a scant inch apart in their signal meaning just a little. She just smiled again and asked, “Got my
shoes?” He pulled them out of one of
the lower compartments of the bag and handed them over. Laura dropped to the ground and pulled off
her sneakers oblivious to the watching crowd.
"She wanted to eat at the Waffle House. How was I supposed to tell her no after she changed the
flat?"
“At
least you ate but now you don’t have time to warm up.”
She
finished tying the double knots and got up brushing the grass from her khaki
shorts. “I’ll be fine.”
“Check
in then. Now the Bowhead actually has
to play you.”
The
starter’s beetle brows seem to lower over the clipboard as he checked her name
off. Laura pulled her glove on and
fastened the Velcro, inhaling deeply as she glanced around as though storing up
the sight for other days. She summoned
up a crooked smile for her opponent as they did the obligatory handshake. “Good luck Diane. Hope the rain holds off.”
“Glad
you could make it. Should be
interesting anyway.” The dig did
nothing to dampen Laura’s spirits, she just raised one eyebrow as Diane
continued, “This isn’t a terribly challenging course, I was surprised that the
qualifying scores weren’t lower. So,
will you be a career amateur?”
“There’s
nothing wrong with the course. Though
it’s not exactly what you’ll get on tour.”
“I
see.” Diane smirked in a condescending
manner.
“No,
I doubt you do.” Laura felt rather than
heard Charles come up behind her and turned to take the driver from his
hand. “You know, my mother used to call
this course the briar patch. She loved
it…the way the hedges and the briars will bite you in the ass if you don’t
place the ball just so, the way the greens promise a break that they never
deliver. If there was something wrong
with her game, you can bet she’d come back here to play until she fixed
it. I was playing a full 18 holes on
this course before you were even born. In fact, I shot my first even par round
here. And to top it off, this is where
my mother won her U.S. Amateur.” She
looked over at the gallery and caught just a glimpse of a pale blonde
head. “I have everything I need, right
here and I think you’ve caught me at the one place and time where I can’t
lose.”
If
Diane had a reply the starter cut it off.
“The 1995 and 1996 U.S. Amateur Champion and 1999 U.S. Open runner up,
from Dallas, Texas…”
Gotta get them
to change that.
“…Laura
Kasdan.”
There
was applause as Laura thumped the driver on the ground and gave a halfhearted
practice swing. No warm up and I ate too much.
Never felt better. The drive
was a good one, not especially long but well placed. She gave the club back to Charles and he grabbed her sleeve to
pull her closer. “What’d you get on
yourself?” He clucked his tongue as he
wiped at her face with his towel.
“Somethin’ black on your chin.”
The sun chose that moment to come out from behind a gray cloud, warming
the day and brightening the sky. Laura
grinned at her Caddy.
One little
break at a time. That’s all.
And
it was underway.
*************************************
Comments welcome! Let me know what you think.