He opened her door to the red sedan.
“Wow. I could get use to this gentlemanly treatment.” A new-car scent greeted her as she slid onto the leather. Shoo went around and got in. “Is this your dad’s or your stepmother’s car?”
“It’s Dad’s birthday gift to my mom. The clunker she loved finally died. Dad was waiting for it to go so he could buy her one with a working air conditioner.”
Allie ran her hand across the leather dash. “Nice. I’m surprised she let you drive it in the crazy traffic around here. Don’t you have your own car?”
“I sold my own clunker to help with living expenses while I caddied on tour. It would have sat idle for months at Dad’s house.”
She raised the gift bag. “For you. A little something to remember me by.”
He accepted the bag. “You didn’t need to get me anything. I could never forget you.”
“Look inside.” She studied him. Would he like what she’d found at the novelty shop near the motel?
He pulled out the tissue, and the keychain fell into his lap. “What’s this?” He retrieved it and dangled it. “A seahorse. How cool. It even has little blue gems for eyes.” He looked at her. “Thank you. I love it.”
“When things get rough on the PGA, think how a male seahorse tends the young deposited in his care. Let this little guy remind you that you’re playing the game for your youth fans. You…” She clamped her lips.
“I, what?”
“You don’t have a car or car keys. You don’t have a house or an apartment. Or a toolbox. You probably don’t even have a safety deposit box. What in the world would you need a key chain for?”
He put his finger to her lips. “Oh, but I do need this one, for the reason you said. And I’ll keep it in my left pocket where I carry my aluminum cross, away from the tees and ball marker I carry in my right pocket. Or, I’ll wear it on my belt loop like this.” He latched the catch to a loop on his jeans.
She laughed and unlatched the seahorse. “I think your pocket would be a better place.” She dropped the key chain into his hand.
He slipped it into his pocket. “OK, but I wish I had something to give you. You know, to remember me by.”
Actually, she needed to forget him. “Give me a sub-par score at the McGladrey.”
He chuckled as he started the car. “Maybe I should go shopping for a trinket for you. It’d be less stressful.”
The car made no sound as he pulled into traffic. How could an engine be that quiet?
He looked over at her. “I’m taking you to my neck of the woods for dinner. Walnut Creek. Around here people are defined by their neighborhoods. You’ll get a taste of who I am.”
“I already know who you are.” She grinned. “You’re the Eric Liddell of golf. Youth role model extraordinaire.”
He chuckled. “You’ve got to send me a CD of your encouragements. I’ll listen to it before each tournament.”
Allie’s throat tightened. If she teared up, she had to do it with her eyes open wide, or she’d look like a raccoon as soon as the mascara ran.
“I couldn’t believe Mark’s declaration that he was retiring from caddying. I thought he liked caddying.”
“I think he does. Just not living broke all the time.”
“What will he do?”
“Beats me.”
They reached the end of the bridge and wound their way east. If they didn’t stop soon, her stomach would growl.
Shoo pointed toward the windshield. “That’s where I went to high school.”
She craned her neck as they passed the building sporting HOME OF THE NORTHGATE BRONCOS in large letters. What would life have been like attending the same school as Shoo? Would they have known each other? With their common golf interest, they’d at least have been acquaintances.
“Were you voted the guy most likely to succeed or most popular?”
“Neither.” He arched his brow. “I think that was a backhanded compliment, but I’m not sure.”
“Nice to know you were a regular guy in high school.”
“Fairly normal, anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
“Normal, if you don’t count golf team captain and prom king.”
She turned in her seat to face him. “You were prom king?”
He laughed. “Gotcha.” He brushed his knuckles against her shoulder. “No, I wasn’t, but I was the golf team captain.”
“Duh.”
Man, she would miss him. He’d made nightly calls to her all week. He’d given her one rule: They could talk golf for ten minutes, and then they had to talk about other things. The goof even set his cell alarm to go off when golf-talking time ended.
She’d never tell him how she’d laid her cell on the pillow beside her head and stared at it as she’d waited for his call.
Would he still phone her after he left? Maybe at first, but then he’d get too busy.
Shoo pulled into a driveway. A driveway? A driveway!
As her throat closed, he pointed to a second-floor window on the huge Mediterranean house. “That’s my room.”
23
Allie stared at the large iron sconce next to the garage door. Had Shoo brought her to his home without telling her?
The keys jangled as he removed them from the ignition.
She faced him. “Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan?”
“I was afraid you might come up with an excuse, since your dad couldn’t make it.”
Now she wouldn’t have Shoo to herself on their last night together. She’d looked forward to one final bantering session.
“You don’t look very happy. Don’t worry about Dad talking me out of a golf career, Allie. I’ve decided I’m giving the PGA all I’ve got.”
She searched his face. Not a feature twitched. He was serious. She smiled. “That is the best parting gift you could give me.”
“I thought you might like to hear that.”
She gripped her hands together in her lap, eyed the heavy Mediterranean front door, and blew out a breath. “So, I can ignore your father?”
“Well, not ignore him, just anything he says about another career versus a golf career.”
“OK. But don’t leave me alone with him.”
He yanked her ponytail. “I won’t.”
Maybe spending the evening with Shoo’s family was a good thing. Being on her best behavior would keep her mind off how much she would miss him.
“Do they know you’re bringing me?”
“Yes. They invited us to dinner.”
“OK.” She got out of the car and heaved a breath. She could do this. “Let’s go inside.”
On the doorstep, Shoo grasped the rustic door handle and paused. A heavy breeze picked up and ruffled the leaves of two potted exotic plants flanking the massive door. “I promise you, they don’t bite.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goof.”
Inside, laughter, clanking and clinking, and cooking aromas led them to the kitchen. His stepmother, father, and teenaged sisters crossed paths as they worked on dinner tasks.
Allie wrapped her arms around her ribcage and lagged behind Shoo. They looked like a normal family. She flicked her gaze to Steve. Tall like Shoo, with a slight paunch.
Shoo moved into the kitchen. “Mom, Dad, girls.”
Faces turned their way and lit up with smiles.
Shoo stepped aside. “This is Allie.” He lifted his hand toward his stepmother, who hovered large forks over a salad. “This is my mom. Diane.” He pointed to Steve filling the rice bowl. “My dad, Steve. And that’s Cassie filling the glasses with ice, and Melody folding the napkins.”
Allie waved. “Hi.”
Diane wiped her hands on a bright yellow towel and took Allie’s hand in hers. “Welcome, Allie. We’ve heard so much about you.”
Allie smiled. “Shoo talks a lot about you.”
Steve switched the rice bowl to his left hand and stuck out his right to Allie, then pumped her proffered
hand. “So glad you could make it, Allie. I have some questions for you about Shoo.”
Allie startled. A third degree already? Dig a hole and bury her.
Steve moved past them to the dining room.
A navy-blue tablecloth appliquéd with a huge sunburst covered the table. The sun’s rays traveled to the sides and corners.
Shoo leaned close. “Mom made the tablecloth. She said the pattern reminded her of God’s creation and how He reaches out to everyone.”
Diane’s laugh was rich. “Shoo always said that it reminded him of a monster train’s headlight coming at him inside a tunnel.” She set a bowl of pork medallions and pear chunks covered with a light-brown sauce on the sunburst.
With Diane’s crazy sunburst and humor, how could Allie not like her? The woman’s flushed face, probably from working in the warm kitchen, accented her green eyes framed with smile crinkles at their outer edges.
Melody’s blonde hair swung as she approached Allie and offered her half the yellow cloth napkins she’d folded into triangles. “Would you help me put the napkins on the table?”
Allie accepted the napkins and followed the teen into the dining room, leaving Shoo and Cassie gathering tea glasses.
“Allie’s cute.” Cassie’s comment drifted into the dining room. Allie perked up for Shoo’s reply to Cassie.
“So are you, Cass.”
That figured. What had happened to ‘she was the cutest elf he’d ever seen’? Maybe he didn’t think so anymore now that her nose and chin had healed.
Cassie led Shoo into the dining room and set two glasses of tea on the table. “Shoo said you studied sports training at UNC and you’re training him.”
Shoo went back to the kitchen.
“Yes. We’ve been working hard to get him ready for the upcoming pro-am.”
“I’m majoring in OT at Merritt College in Oakland.”
Allie’s shoulder muscles relaxed. She and Cassie discussed the similarities of occupational and sport therapies.
Diane’s fingertips together under her chin, she surveyed the table. “I think that’s everything.” She rested her hands on two adjacent chairs. “Shoo, you and Allie sit here on this side.”
While everyone pulled out chairs, Shoo leaned in close to Allie. “Everything all right?”
She nodded. He was right. They didn’t bite. Just the opposite, they made her feel welcomed.
Shoo’s smile spread.
Once seated, Steve offered his upturned hand to her. She started to draw back until everyone around the table seized their neighbors’ hands. Shoo took hers, and she surrendered her fingers into Steve’s warm grasp.
Steve bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for bringing Allie and Shoo safely to us this evening. Please bless our food and our conversation. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Steve opened his napkin. “Allie, Shoo tells us you’re a talented trainer.”
“He’s a talented golfer. He works hard, and he’s ready for the McGladrey.”
Had Shoo nudged her with his knee on purpose?
“I have no doubts about that.” Steve received the bowl of rice from Melody and plopped a spoonful on his plate.
But did he have doubts about Shoo’s capability to handle his own life?
Steve spooned pork and pears onto his rice. “I knew your father in high school, when we both lived in Cary. I guess you know we’re getting together tomorrow evening. It’ll be good to talk old times and catch up.”
No. She didn’t know. She nodded anyway, and applied butter to her roll.
“Mill was always an excellent golfer.” Steve passed her the bowl. “I’m glad he’s done so well on the Seniors Tour. Good to see him back on the PGA.”
She totally agreed with Steve. So far, so good.
Diane sipped her tea and returned her glass to the table. “We understand you’re interested in teaching children golf, Allie.”
Allie smiled. “Yes. Last year I worked with children in a golf program in Atlanta. Also, during my summers off from UNC.”
“I taught fifth grade for seven years before I met Steve. Some of my students attended summer golf programs. I like the alternative to soccer.”
Melody’s face lit up. “Mom still cooks for the junior golf banquets.”
Steve stirred sugar into his tea. “I’ve always regretted not being home for Cassie’s banquets, but thankfully I retired early enough to make it to a couple of yours, Melody.”
Was that the first subtle jab against the golf career that she was supposed to ignore?
“I knew you were proud of me.” Cassie offered Steve her lovely smile.
Remarkable smiles must have come from Shoo’s birth mother’s family. Steve’s seemed average.
“Still, I wish I could’ve seen you get your awards.” Steve buttered his roll. “Allie, has Shoo told you his Eric Liddell story?”
“Yes.” Allie suspended her pork-laden fork. “I admire Shoo for pursuing Liddell’s similar dream.”
Shoo’s knee nudge again.
“Well, he’s got much work ahead. From what I’ve seen during my years on tour, young players battle self-doubt, homesickness, and loneliness. The public doesn’t realize how much time these young guys spend driving long hours or waiting in airports away from their families and friends—and their girlfriends. But if anyone can do it, Shoo can.”
“I agree.”
“We won’t see him much, except for a glimpse on TV now and then.”
That was true.
Steve dabbed his napkin to his lips, his gaze steady on Allie. “I hope he understands he can’t let anything distract him. Anything. He has to live and breathe golf. Training morning and night. He’ll have no room in his schedule for anything, or anybody.”
Allie’s face burned. Steve had pulled out a big gun, making it pointedly clear that for Shoo’s sake, she needed to butt out of Shoo’s life. Hard to ignore that.
~*~
Shoo drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “For the last half hour, all you’ve said is ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or grunted. Is something wrong?”
She gave him a small smile. “I guess, I’m a little sad, this being the last night before you leave.”
There had to be more to her shutting down.
“You suddenly got quiet during the last half of dinner. What changed?”
Her eyes widened. “Did I come across as rude? I didn’t mean to. I was just ignoring what your dad said.”
“Knowing how enthusiastic you normally are, I noticed the switch. I don’t think they did. What did Dad say that hit you the wrong way?”
She stared at him for a moment. “You didn’t hear your father tell me to get out of your life?”
Shoo screwed up his face. “What? No.”
“He looked directly at me and said, ‘He,’ meaning you, ‘will have no room in his schedule for anything or anybody.’”
“He’s been saying the ‘anything, anybody’ words to me ever since I told him I wanted to be a pro golfer.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, tonight he said them to me. Ignoring them took a lot of concentrated effort.”
“Short of pinching you, I tried to warn you to nix my glowing accomplishments. Dad always counters with the hardships. He’ll come around. And he likes you, Allie.”
Allie looked genuinely bothered. What could he say to convince her Dad wasn’t singling her out?
They’d reached the motel drop-off. He put the car in park. “I’m sorry the evening didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”
“I’m glad I met your family. They’re all nice, Shoo.”
“Except Dad?”
“No. I’m glad I met him.” She raised her gaze to his. “He seems concerned that you’re making a mistake.” She looked out the side window.
Clearly, she had something on her mind.
She opened her door, hopped out, and bent down. “Do well at the McGladrey, Shoo. I enjoyed working with you.” She closed the door and headed for the entrance.
“Wha—” He powered down the passenger window. “Allie.”
She disappeared inside the motel.
~*~
Allie pushed through the stairwell door, started up the cement steps, and then turned and sat.
The door closed. Clunk.
A shudder coursed through her as strong as the pulsing flashes coming from the faulty light fixture.
If only Mom were here. Mom would know how to get her through the pain. Whether Steve’s piercing gaze and words were meant for a general audience or specifically for her made no difference. She’d already accepted her future would be without Shoo. She just didn’t realize how painful it would be.
Well, the goodbye was over with. If she’d dragged it out, she’d have bawled.
All right. So now she could move forward in her life.
She sank her head between her knees. Why did she feel so lousy?
She sat up and wiped at her tears, streaking her fingertips with black mascara.
She barked a ragged laugh.
What a hypocrite. If she’d accepted that Shoo would be gone from her life by tomorrow, then why had she gussied up with mascara? She bit down on her lip and tasted salty tears.
She’d expected Shoo to keep in touch and call her every night, that’s why. She’d still held on to the hope he’d see her in a different light. In a romantic light.
“Mom, I’m so confused. Shoo. Steve. Where I fit in.”
Thank goodness, she’d soon see Aunt Mae. She’d drown herself in Aunt Mae’s embrace, cherry cobbler, and molasses cookies.
I’d like to talk to you about something before we visit…
Where had that come from? Oh, yeah. Driving over the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, Dad was going to say, “before we visit Aunt Mae.” If her gut was right, Dad wanted to tell her something about Mom.
Allie stood, churned up the stairs, and speed-walked to Dad’s room. Her tears streamed as she knocked.
The door opened. Dad’s gaze met hers and his eyes widened. “Allie, what’s wrong?”
“Tell me the truth, Dad.”
24
Allie sat on the couch in Dad’s room with the bathroom tissue box beside her on the green faux leather. Dad towered over her while she wiped tears and mascara from her eyes with a disintegrating tissue.
The Putting Green Whisperer Page 21