by R. B. Conroy
The deliberate Ed shaded his eyes from the nasty glare filtering between the palms and lined up his putt. Then he stroked the ball and watched it slide two feet past the hole.
“The two-footer is good,” Dave chortled.
“Gee, you’re all heart.”
“Six is enough for anybody.”
“Yeah, and you got a three footer for a four.”
“Eat your heart out!”
Ed had always been the better athlete of the two with his graceful motions and tall, muscular physique, but the stubby Dave wasn’t going to let that happen with golf. His short, five foot seven frame was better suited for the game than Ed’s six foot three torso. As a result, Dave had become the better golfer of the two. He maintained an impressive six handicap, while Ed’s was a respectable twelve.
He took his stance, wiggled his backside and quickly rammed the short putt in the hole.
“Nice putt, sandbagger. So, what do I owe you?”
Dave slid the scorecard and small, green pencil from his back pocket, and scribbled down the scores. “Let’s see, I won three holes and you won one.”
“So, I owe you four bucks.”
“Not so fast, it’s double on birds, remember? I birdied the second hole.”
Ed lifted his money clip from the mesh sack on the side of his bag and peeled off six bills and handed them to Dave.
Dave snatched the money from his friend, the corner of his mouth turned up in a mocking grin. “You should let me give you strokes. I get tired of taking your money all the time.”
“I like donating. You look needy.”
Dave laughed; he loved the friendly teasing between the old friends. “I don’t have the money you have, that’s for sure.”
“It’s a little after six, Dave, I think you’re going to make it to dinner if you get your butt in gear.”
“Wish you could join us, buddy, we have room, you know.”
“Thanks, Dave, but Cathy has tennis again this evening. It’s mixed doubles tonight.”
“Mixed doubles and you’re not there?”
“With my bad back I can’t play that game, it’s too fast. Wish I could.”
“Cathy must love it-seems like she has a tennis match going all the time. We never see her anymore.” Dave held his eyes on his friend, begging more information.
Ed noticed the increased attention and explained, “I know. I don’t see her much either.” Ed’s voice lacked its normal enthusiastic tone.
Cathy was becoming more and more involved with tennis and had become one of the best female players in The Villages. As a result, their social life was suffering. At least his was. She seemed to be coming home more and more often with the smell of alcohol on her breath. When he mentioned it to her, she would just flippantly tell him that she liked to have an occasional drink with the girls after tennis, just like he liked to have a beer after golfing with the guys.
Dave slipped off his glove and stuck it in his bag. “Sally misses Cathy.”
“She misses you guys too. She said to tell you ‘hi’ and she hopes we can all get together soon.” Ed was spinning the truth just a little. Cathy seemed about as interested in their friends as she was in him lately. He didn’t want to offend his friend, so he fibbed.
Dave dropped his putter in his bag and smiled, “See ya at Lopez tomorrow. Ten o’clock sharp and don’t be late. Bob and Pudge will be joining us.”
“Am I ever late?”
“No, and that’s because I always remind you not to be!”
“Kiss this, shorty!” A smiling Ed jabbed his finger at his protruding backside.
His old friend roared in laughter as he hopped in his golf cart. Ed watched him pull away from the ninth green and head for the street for his short trip home to Sunset Pointe Village. He was envious of Dave and his wife. They had a very close relationship and enjoyed doing things together. He longed for the old days when he and Cathy would play golf with Dave and Sally on Saturday afternoons and then go to dinner. Ed felt lonely as he bent over to stuff his ball and tees in his bag.
“Hello, stranger. Where’s that foxy wife of yours?”
Ed looked up from his bag to see a fast approaching Ann Southworth, a classmate and former girlfriend from his school boy days in Indiana. She pulled her cart close to Ed’s and jerked to a stop. Her still shapely legs extended out from under her short, pink, golf skirt. A little more than necessary, Ed thought. “How are you, Ann? What a surprise.”
“I’m fine, just finished playing nine with Sue and Laurie. I thought I saw you over here with Dave Mann. Wasn’t that Dave?”
“Yes, it sure was.”
“Is Cathy doing her tennis thing this evening?” Ann was now sitting very erect in her seat, eyeing Ed with scorching intent.
“What else?”
Ann studied his face for a moment and then replied, “Me and the girls are going to Cane Gardens Country Club and have a drinky-pooh or two. Why don’t you join us?”
Ed liked the ever-improving vision in front of him. The invitation sounded very tempting
Ann noticed the hesitation. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a quick drink with some old friends, Ed. It doesn’t look like you have much else to do.”
Ed’s relationship with Ann so many years ago had been torrid at times and he didn’t want to stir up those old feelings again. He felt it would be better to beg off and leave this situation alone. “Better not, I’m in the middle of a project at home and I need to finish it up tonight.”
Ann batted her eyes, “All work and no play makes for a dull boy.”
Ed smiled, “Maybe some other time, tell the girls I said hi.”
Ann scowled, “You always were such an upright guy!” She exhaled with exasperation and laid her hand gently on his forearm. “But, we had our moments.”
Ed’s stare locked on his old girlfriend for an instant. “Yes, we certainly did, Ann. How’s Frank doing?”
Ann pulled her hand back, her shoulders slumped. The reference to her husband had taken the wind out of her sails. “He’s home recouping from hernia surgery.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Think so; he doesn’t say much, ya know.”
“Tell him hi for me, will you?”
“Sure, Ed. See you around.”
“Good-bye, Ann.”
Once again Ed stood and watched as an old friend pulled away from him. Alone again, he slipped the head cover over his TaylorMade driver and slid into the driver’s seat. He lifted his sunglasses from the console and stuck them on. He crammed the cart into gear and slowly accelerated down the cart path toward Sunset Pointe Boulevard. Ed and Cathy lived in Lake Miona at Bridgeport, an upscale neighborhood just north of Lake Sumter Landing, one of two large town squares in The Villages.
A short time later, Ed exited onto Bailey Trail and, after a brief ride on Bailey, he darted left across the approaching lane and sped toward Buena Vista Boulevard, one of the two main arteries in The Villages. A few seconds later, Ed braked hard and ducked into a short dark tunnel that took him under the road to the other side of Buena Vista. He climbed the steep hill on the far side of the tunnel and gunned it down the wide asphalt cart path toward Lake Sumter Landing.
Minutes later, Ed eased off the accelerator as he approached the next tunnel that would take him under Stillwater Trail and back to Buena Vista Drive. As usual, he was taken aback by the beautiful landscaping that surrounded the area at the Stillwater exit, one of the main entryways into Lake Sumter Landing. As he slowed down, Ed could hear “Old Time Rock and Roll,” one of his favorite rock tunes, blasting out from the center of Lake Sumter. Ed decided at the last second to take a right at the end of the tunnel and make a run through the town square, instead of going home. His favorite group “Rocky and the Rollers” was playing tonight. He thought it might be fun to stop and take in a few tunes. His excitement grew as he turned onto Stillwater and drove toward the bright lights and hard hitting sounds of the busy town square.
Lake Sumt
er Landing was composed of dozens of shops and restaurants, along with a movie theater showing the latest releases, and several popular drinking establishments. In the center of the square was a large gazebo that was surrounded by an ample dance area. A different band performed in the gazebo each night, filling the air with the pounding sounds of rock and roll music. When they first moved to The Villages, Ed and Cathy would go dancing at Lake Sumter almost every evening, and Ed loved it. Just like in athletics, Ed was smooth and graceful on the dance floor, but those were the old days before tennis. Tonight, as he approached the square; Ed would be alone-alone with the memories of better days.
3
“Great volley, partner!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Roberts.”
“Eric, my dear, will you please stop with that “Mrs. Roberts” stuff?”
“Okay, thank you, Cathy.”
“Much better.”
Cathy stood, hands on hips, while her partner bent over to fasten down an errant shoe lace. Her new tennis partner, Eric Lowe, had joined her a few weeks ago when her longtime partner and family friend, John Waring, was forced to undergo major hip surgery. The doctor said Waring would be out of action for about six months followed by several months of rehab. At first she missed Waring. Together, they had won two Villages Doubles Championships. But lately, she was beginning to really enjoy her new partner. He was funny and good looking, and unlike the seventy year old Waring, the new guy was very muscular with a handsome face and dark, curly, hair. Cathy found him very attractive. Eric was a former lift-truck driver from Texas and he was twelve years her junior. And, best of all, he was single, recently divorced from his third wife.
Not a philanderer in the true sense of the word, Cathy was becoming more and more disenchanted with her husband, Ed. They had been married for forty-seven years, and she would quickly tell anyone who would listen what a bore he was. Less than faithful, she had found herself in bed with other men more than once during their long marriage. A master of deceit, she had managed to keep her extracurricular activities a secret from her family and close friends. With hubby Ed providing most of the assets in their relationship, she knew she had to be careful with her indiscretions, lest he find out and play hardball with her money supply.
Her lust for Eric was growing with each match together. She found him disturbingly attractive and he was really starting to turn her on. She had to figure a way to get her exciting new partner in bed without anyone knowing.
Still bent over and tying his shoes, Cathy leaned over and laid her hand gently on Eric’s back. She whispered in his ear, “One more point and we close them out. Looks like we’ll get to Cody’s a little earlier tonight.”
A grinning Eric stood and looked directly into Cathy’s stunning blue eyes, “Sounds good to me. Your serve.” When he handed her the ball, he cupped his hand around hers and gave it a little squeeze. With her face slightly flushed from the intimate exchange with the handsome Mr. Lowe, Cathy walked back to the serving area and prepared to serve for the game and set. She tossed the ball in the air, took a mighty swing and sent a devastating serve darting over the net. The other team hardly had time to react as the ball bounced harmlessly off of their opponent’s racket and ricocheted to the side of the court.
Cathy hurriedly joined Eric at the net for the customary handshake. After a couple of minutes of small talk with their playing partners, Cathy and Eric went their separate ways-Cathy in her car and Eric in his Jeep.
* * * * * *
Cathy’s heart was fluttering as she exited onto Morse Boulevard for the short drive to Lake Sumter Landing and Cody’s Original Roadhouse. She was hoping that this would be the night. She wanted desperately to go home and freshen up a little, but that was out of the question. Luckily, it had been a very short match, and she had hardly worked up a sweat. Having showered just before the match, she felt fresh enough for any close encounters that might occur.
* * * * * *
Eric decided to stop by Sweetbay Supermarket on the way to Cody’s and grab a roll of breath mints. The onions on his noonday sub were still hanging around. He was certain a wad of breath mints, along with a few beers at Cody’s, would take care of that.
Eric was somewhat befuddled by his attractive tennis partner. When they joined forces a few weeks ago, she seemed to start flirting with him right away. She certainly had all the trappings of wealth-a lavish home in Bridgeport at Lake Miona, a new Lexus convertible and some very expensive looking and exotic jewelry. But, it was obvious that something was missing in her life. No stranger to extra-marital affairs, Eric could sense when a woman was on the prowl. Not lacking in self-confidence when it came to the opposite sex, Eric knew that his handsome good looks and charming personality made him almost irresistible to older ladies looking for a good time outside of marriage. Fate seemed to be pushing these two ignoble souls together like a steamroller toward hot asphalt. He smiled, fleeting thoughts of the two of them in bed together danced through his mind.
* * * * * *
Cathy pulled to a stop in a parking spot in the large public parking area just across from Cody’s. She opened her compact and toyed with the front of her hair and then carefully applied some fresh lipstick. Everything seemed to be right. Eric had been more playful than usual this evening and their short match had barely tested the energy levels of the two well-conditioned athletes. It was time to come up with a plan.
First, where to go? Since her husband Ed was quite the homebody, she had decided that her house was out of the question. Even if Ed wasn’t at home, he could pop in at any time and that would be a disaster. Eric’s place was also out of the question since he lived right across the street from Cathy’s friends, Barb and Tom Johnson. She had to find a place for her wayward deeds, and she had to come up with a place where they would not be noticed.
She and Ed had some friends, Jim and Barb Smith, who lived in the Village of Duval near the south end of The Villages. Their friends were both still heavily involved in their careers up north and could only make it down to their Florida home a few times a year. To save them money, the Roberts had volunteered to check on their house now and then. That meant going into the Smith’s house a couple of times a month to check things out and be sure that everything was okay and in operating condition. The friends had given them a remote to the garage for easy entry into the house. It would be the perfect place for a secret tryst with another man. She and Eric could pull into the garage, put the door down before any of the neighbors had time to notice, have some fun, and then leave quietly with no one the wiser, particularly her husband, Ed.
Cathy dropped the compact back in her small sport purse, straightened her earrings and climbed out of her Lexus. She bumped the door shut with her firm backside and started her strut toward Cody’s. She felt very vampy at times like this. She was thin and attractive and she made a nice picture with her long, slender legs, protruding nicely from under her short, tennis skirt. She had a very sensual way of walking, something she had worked on over the years. She felt like every man at the outdoor bar at Cody’s was watching her as she approached the popular eatery and looked for a place to sit.
“Are these seats taken?” she asked a darkly tanned man dressed in a purple golf shirt and white Bermuda shorts.
“Certainly not,” the beaming man replied, temporarily interrupting a conversation with a lady that appeared to be his wife. “Help yourself.”
The man watched her carefully as she slid onto the tall bar stool next to him. He was acting like a bore, amateurish and awkward. Even Cathy, hardly a beacon of virtue, thought it was rude of him to totally ignore his wife. The man continued to ogle her.
“New around here?” he asked.
What a dumb question. Over ninety thousand people lived in The Villages. Seeing someone different at Cody’s certainly didn’t mean that person was “new around here.”
“No, of course not,” she said curtly, attempting to discourage any more conversation with the lout.
“Oh
, I just thought ya might be new or somethin’.”
She raised her brow and glanced at him from him corner of her eye, “I’ve lived here for nearly five years; I’m hardly new.”
“Sounds new to me, we’ve lived here more than twenty years!” The man laughed out loud, even his overlooked wife chuckled along with him.
“Good for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.” Cathy lifted her pink cell phone from her purse and tried desperately to think of someone to call. She flipped it open and pushed the speed dial number of a girlfriend who had just left to go up north. She let the phone ring until the answering machine picked up and then left a brief message about playing bridge when her friend returned. A totally unnecessary message, but at least it got Romeo off her case.
The young bartender approached. She quickly shut her phone off and set it on the bar. “Vodka tonic,” she ordered.