The Putting Green Whisperer

by McCarthy, Zoe M. ;

  The door opened. He turned to the sound, a grin and an accusation on his lips.

  A man dressed in sweats entered and nodded.

  Shoo abandoned his stretches and dug his cell from his gym bag. He stepped from the room and called. Allie didn’t answer. He left a message to call him.

  If she was sick, she’d have called or texted him. Something wasn’t right.

  Last night when she’d apologized, she’d been different. The calmness she’d displayed wasn’t part of Allie’s makeup. Neither was the lingering kiss she’d placed on his cheek. Although—he touched the spot—it’d been nice.

  He called again.

  No answer. She had to be really ill. He texted:

  r u sick? coming up

  Back in the weight room, he pulled on his sweats, strapped his gym bag over his shoulder, and headed for the lobby.

  The desk clerk looked up from his monitor. “May I help you?”

  “My trainer is a guest here, but she hasn’t come to the weight room.” He gave him Allie’s name.

  The clerk tapped his pen on his chin while he studied the screen. “Miss Masterson checked out earlier this morning.”

  “Really?” There had to be a mistake. “Would you please check Mill Masterson?”

  The clerk typed. “Mr. Masterson has not checked out.”

  At Shoo’s request, the clerk called Mill, and after a short exchange, he ended the call and gave Shoo the room number. Shoo took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.

  Mill answered the door fully dressed. “I thought I might see you this morning. Come on in, Shoo.”

  Shoo strode in and turned. “Where’s Allie?”

  Mill clapped him on the back. “Sit down.” He pointed to the green sofa, and then he sat in the desk chair.

  Shoo dropped his bag beside the sofa and sat. “Is she OK?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  Shoo frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart pumped at the stair-climbing rate. Mill was scaring him. “Did I do something?”

  Mill wagged his head. “You didn’t do anything.” He looked thoughtful. “It’s my guess, that’s why she left.”

  “What did I not do?”

  “Shoo, I think my daughter needed time to sort out her life.” Mill lifted his coffee mug from the desk.

  “That doesn’t make sense. She was so calm last night. And she always seems to enjoy working with me.”

  A thought hit him. Did she believe he’d taken advantage of her in arranging one more free training session? He’d just wanted to spend his last day with her. He clamped his hands together and held them between his knees. “As you were saying…you think it was something I didn’t do?”

  Mill gave a slight shrug and smiled. “Probably.”

  Mill seemed amused. Even though his calm attitude suggested what was going on couldn’t be that bad, this was maddening.

  “Mill, help me out here.”

  “All right.” Mill sipped his coffee and then raised his mug. “Would you like a cup of coffee first?”

  “No, thanks.” With the coffee aroma came memories of all the times Allie had brought him coffee.

  Mill set his cup on the desk. “Allie and I had a chat before she left, and this is how she sees things. I’m just relaying what she said. She told me she misunderstood Steve’s comment last night about your career. Steve claimed if you were to make it to the PGA tour, you’d have to give up everything and everyone.”

  Not that again. He huffed a breath. “Yeah. He said something like that. He always does.”

  “Well, Allie decided that was good advice. She wants you to make it into the PGA tour and give teens an excellent role model. She believed she needed to leave. If she didn’t, you’d continue your night calls because you know she enjoys them, and you’d do other kindnesses for her, when you should focus on golf. She told me how you helped her when she lost her cross.” Mill crossed his legs. “So, she took a bus and removed herself so you can focus on your game.”

  Shoo dropped his jaw. “She doesn’t hinder me. She’s done nothing but help me. For free. Allie seemed so calm last night when she came back to the house. Everything seemed fine. Why didn’t she talk to me? I thought we were best friends. And why leave when we only had a few hours left, anyway?”

  “I think it’s metaphorical. Ending the friendship for your good and for…” Mill studied him, like he was deciding whether he should elaborate.

  Hopefully, he would because he wasn’t making sense with all the metaphor stuff. “And for?”

  “That’s where it gets a little messy. She’ll probably be upset with me for what I’m about to tell you, but I think it’s the right thing to do.” Mill uncrossed his legs, planted his feet on the carpet, and leaned forward. “Shoo, you still don’t get it.” He wagged his head and chuckled. Then he captured Shoo’s gaze. “Allie’s in love with you.”

  In love?

  “Don’t look so stunned. Surely you’ve noticed.”

  When had Allie shown any signs of being in love with him?? During their training? Their conversations on the golf courses? Their outings with the guys? On the airplane?

  He looked to Mill for help. “Allie never let on to any such thing.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. So, what do you think about that?”

  What did he think? Make that, how did he feel? His cheek tingled. The kiss. His heart knocked against his ribs. He stood. “Where’d she go?”

  “Her aunt lives up state.”

  “I need the address.”

  “My sister-in-law lives three hours away, Shoo. Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

  Shoo looked at his watch. “I can make it.” Mill looked doubtful. “Please, Mill, give me the address.”

  “You don’t want to miss the pro-am in Georgia, Shoo. Just call her.”

  “I already tried that. She’s not answering. Maybe if she sees it’s you calling, she’ll answer.”

  Mill placed the call and handed his cell to Shoo.

  It rang and rang and then went to voicemail. He ended the call and handed Mill the phone. “Man, she’s cut herself off completely.” He sagged to the couch. “I’ve already left a message and a text. Will you try calling your sister-in-law?”

  Mill made the call. He listened and then looked at Shoo and shook his head. “Hi, Mae. Would you give me a call as soon as you get this?” He pocketed his cell.

  Shoo stood and cupped his forehead. “I’ve got to make the trip.”

  “You can’t make it there and back. You’ll miss your flight and ruin your whole career.”

  Shoo extended his palm. “Mill, the address. Please.”

  ~*~

  Shoo sped up the ramp onto Interstate 80. Putting his golf career at risk was probably his worst idea yet. Crazy. Irresponsible. Out of character. Had he lost his mind?

  Maybe, but he had to get to Allie.

  Mill said Allie loved him. Not like a friend, but more.

  He opened his window and rested his elbow on the window frame, his hair blowing. He laughed.

  Allie Masterson loved him.

  For more than his golf expertise.

  Or his dream.

  She loved him. Him.

  Did he believe that? Mill wouldn’t have lied.

  Now, the night Mark had come to his room made sense. Shoo had thought his friend wanted to talk about his own, not Shoo’s, love for Allie. Instead, Mark had tried to tell him in his obtuse way that Allie loved Shoo. Mark didn’t want to get over Allie. He wanted Shoo to recognize Allie’s feelings.

  Huh. Mark more in tune to someone than he was? Ouch.

  He slapped the steering wheel. What an idiot he’d been.

  But Allie had never said or done anything that would hint at how she felt.

  Until the kiss.

  Did he love Allie as he’d loved Christine? No. Dinner with Christine the other night had opened his eyes. He loved Christine’s beauty, her family, and her faith, but they’d never really been best friends. />
  He was OK with it now. Christine would never have left him for the reasons Allie had—because she thought she wasn’t best for him. That was the difference. Allie exited his life because she believed she was doing the right thing for him. Out of love.

  Something like electricity rippled through him.

  Wow. He hadn’t felt a heart pang like that in a long time. He’d been so concentrated on making it into the PGA that he’d stuffed his feelings.

  His nightly phone conversations with Allie ranked as the high point of his day. What if he could have nightly conversations with Allie forever? What if he could have her at his side encouraging him at every tournament? What if she’d be his lifetime Hearts partner? And, what if he could take care of her as he had the night she’d lost her cross?

  He couldn’t think of anything better. He loved Allie Masterson, because if he didn’t, why was he speeding toward her, putting his career on the line? And smiling like a star-struck idiot.

  Why had it never occurred to him that Allie could be the right woman?

  Did you know she was the woman for me all along, Lord?

  Of course, He did. God had given them time to learn some lessons and make some changes.

  He passed a car traveling under the speed limit. If only God would part the traffic like He did the Red Sea.

  Hopefully, he could persuade Allie to join him at the McGladrey. He’d figure out some way to pay for her airline ticket, her room, and her food. He had bonds from Grandma that had matured eons ago. He’d left them alone for a safety net against the possibility it would take awhile to make it into the money. But…

  He’d buy a big bag of pretzels, and they’d live on those. Just as they’d laughed about in the workout room in San Antonio.

  He grinned. This was surreal.

  His stomach growled. He turned into a fast food place and entered the drive-thru line. While he waited, he called Allie. Her cell rang until it went to voicemail. He texted her.

  i need 2 talk 2 u

  If he added that he was on his way, she might run. Why’d she have to be so noble about leaving him? If only she knew how hard she was making his overdue profession of love.

  He went to Favorites on his cell. He’d try calling Allie again after he called Dad. Hopefully, Dad could meet him at the airport earlier than he and the family had planned, and bring Shoo’s bag and his clubs. Even with Dad’s help, the timing would be tight.

  He ended the call with Dad. His father was on board. As with Mill, Shoo had stood firm, convincing Dad there was no way he was turning Mom’s new red car around.

  After putting away two sausage biscuits, he pulled back onto US-101. Shoo checked the GPS. According to the time remaining, he’d be in Laytonville by ten. He’d have a half hour maximum to persuade Allie that he loved her, and then the three-hour trip back to Oakland International. The earliest he could make it to the airport for his four-ten flight was two o’clock.

  Lord, I’m cutting it close. Please help Allie believe me when I tell her I love her. I’d appreciate if she wouldn’t argue too long.

  A thrill traveled through Shoo’s heart. Man, just thinking about telling her how he felt gave him a rollercoaster buzz.

  Near Laytonville, the GPS directed him to a road on the town’s outskirts. Aunt Mae lived at the end of a long road with no neighbors. At the dead end, Shoo pulled into the gravel driveway and killed the engine. No car sat in the carport. That was not good.

  He got out and climbed the porch steps to a small white bungalow backed up to a tangle of trees and brush. He pushed the doorbell button and waited. Had he heard the chime? He wasn’t sure. He rang it again. Ding-dong. Weak, but definite. Then silence.

  Raps on the screen door brought no one, so he opened it and pounded on the door. He hadn’t traveled three hours to miss Allie because she was asleep somewhere in the house.

  No one came.

  He walked around the house, breathing in old-house smell. He peered into the windows he could reach from the ground that sloped toward the backyard. No sign of anyone.

  He’d messed up.

  Thirty minutes was the most he could wait. If Allie came home by then, he’d have only minutes to sell her on the fact that he loved her and hoped she’d caddy for him at the McGladrey. Thankfully, Dad had agreed to work on a flight for Allie if and when he received Shoo’s call that she’d accepted.

  He opened the screen door on the back porch and knocked on the door, even tried the doorknob. Locked. He sat on an Adirondack chair and stared at the tangle of brush bordering the backyard.

  All right, he’d try Allie’s cell one more time. Faintly, ”Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog” played. He shot up and peered into the window. The ringtone stopped. He called again and cupped his hands against the window. Allie’s cell rested on the kitchen table. He rapped on the window. “Allie! It’s me, Shoo.”

  The music stopped. He searched for any movement. Wasn’t she inside if her cell sat on the table? No. She’d leave her phone in the house if she had no intention to answer it.

  Shoo returned to the front porch and sat on the top step. If she didn’t come back in time, how would he reach her?

  Jiggling his leg, he listened for an approaching car. “Come on, Allie girl. I want to tell you I’ve found the right woman.” He craned his neck. Nothing came around the bend in the road. “Come home, sprite. I need you. We’re a team, you and I. Return, so I can tell you that.” He thumped his fist to his chest. “So I can get rid of this ache.”

  He should’ve prayed. It wasn’t too late. He closed his eyes.

  Lord, will you send her here in time? He made his request over and over.

  His thirty minutes were up. He’d give her two more. Then he’d have to go. He walked around the house, peering into windows.

  Why couldn’t he face it? The house was empty.

  He walked back to the car and jotted a few words on a golf scorecard he found in the console. On the front porch, he let out a heavy sigh and stuck the card between the door and the jamb.

  He let the screen door swing shut, and left.

  ~*~

  In the carport, Aunt Mae turned off the engine, and the 1995 truck protested with a death rattle. Allie gathered grocery bags and the soda six-pack in the back and carried them to the rear porch door.

  Even if Aunt Mae didn’t know a three iron from a three wood, talking woman-to-woman and spilling her troubles had been almost like talking to Mom.

  While Allie held the screen door for Aunt Mae, a faint woodsy, jasmine scent teased her nose. As soon as Aunt Mae disappeared inside, Allie pressed her nose against the wood strip framing the screen. The scent was gone.

  Boy, letting Shoo go had affected her brain right to her olfactory lobe.

  Inserting her backside between the screen door and the kitchen, she bent and grasped the sodas on the porch. There was that scent again. She sniffed the handle.

  “What are you doing, Allie.”

  Allie startled and hefted the sodas, willing her face flush to stay at the bottom of her blushometer. “Getting the sodas.”

  Aunt Mae tittered. “It looked like you were sniffing the handle.”

  Allie let the screen door bang shut. “That’s silly.” The truth, in case Jesus was listening.

  Allie plunked the sodas on the kitchen table and checked her cell. More missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Shoo and Dad. She ignored them. After she’d arrived earlier from her long drive and had a nap, she’d sent Dad a text. His call came after that, probably to give her a play-by-play of the conversation he’d had with Shoo when he’d come looking for her. She could do the right thing, but hearing about the aftershocks? Way too painful.

  Aunt Mae stood with a green bean can in one hand and a tomato soup can in the other. “Why don’t you call Shoo, honey? Let him get out what he wants to say. Maybe it’s something you need to hear.”

  “I can’t yet. I need a little more time. I don’t want to bawl in his ear and make him feel guilty for wanti
ng to be friends and nothing more.”

  She opened the fridge and filled one drawer with the sodas.

  Whether Shoo agreed or not, ending the friendship was best for his career. No calling her every night to banter about the best way to survive an airplane crash on a snow-capped mountain. No worrying about hurting her feelings when he decided to hire a professional trainer. No wasting time trying to comfort her when she lost her necklace or had some other problem she needed to share.

  Good for her too. The bowling ball she carried around in her stomach would lift over time. And she’d get on with her life.

  She straightened and closed the refrigerator door.

  Aunt Mae hadn’t moved. The woman fixed her gray eyes on Allie, the cans lifted like one-pound hand weights, her elbows resting against her sides. Her disapproving gaze warned she would not tolerate Allie’s disappearing act much longer.

  “I’ll give it a week, and then maybe I’ll send Shoo a telegram, congratulating him on his play in the McGladrey.”

  Aunt Mae chuckled and turned to the cupboard where she stored her canned goods. “That’ll help you a lot.”

  “I was joking.”

  “I know.”

  Allie wrapped her arms around Aunt Mae’s neck. “Thank you for being here for me. Dad understands just so much, you know. We’re finding our groove, but I’d probably embarrass him with too much lovesick drivel.”

  “I’ll tolerate it for a week, once the cherry cobbler and cookies are gone.”

  Allie released Aunt Mae, switched her cell to vibrate, and rummaged in the plastic bags for the elbow macaroni box. “Speaking of comfort food, will you fix the mac and cheese and meatloaf tonight?” She set the box on the counter. “I’ll help.”

  “Sure.” Aunt Mae stowed the cans in her hands and then squeezed Allie’s arm. “With catsup on top.”

  Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. Hopefully, comfort food would get her through these first days until Shoo quit feeling obligated to call.

  26

  At the soft knock on her bedroom door, Allie lifted her head from the pillow and squinted against the morning sun. How long would it take her to remember to close the curtains at night? What was poking her arm? Hmph. Aunt Mae’s Bible she’d borrowed. She slid the leather-bound book away.