Mulligan
Page 4
was a good color with that bright
blonde hair… and her green eyes
were prominent even in the dim
light.
"Listen, Lou… I think you and I
may have gotten off on the wrong
foot or something last week. Do
you think we could just start
over?"
"You mean… like a Mulligan?"
"Yeah," Marty nodded, smiling.
Many weekend golfers took what
was called a Mulligan - a "do-over"
- when they muffed the drive off
the first tee. "I haven’t met
anyone as interesting as you in a
long time, Lou. I’d like for us to be
friends."
Louise smiled at the cute little golf
pro. "I’d like that too, Marty."
"So… would you like to dance?"
Nervously, Louise realized that
she’d very much like to dance with
this green-eyed blonde, just for
the chance to hold her close. "I’d
love to."
The pair took the floor for a
timeless Righteous Brothers tune,
Marty asserting the lead as she
pressed the heel of her hand
against the small of the tall
woman’s back. Dancing with Lou
Stevens was just as fluid an
experience as she had imagined…
except it hadn’t occurred to her
that she’d be eye-level with these
beeeautiful…
"Where are you from, Marty?"
"Uh, I…"
"I’m sorry, was that a hard
question?" Louise had noticed that
her dance partner was
appreciative of her assets. What
else should she expect from
wearing a dress like this?
"I’m originally from Michigan.
Holland, Michigan. But I’ve been
coming down here for almost 20
years."
"What do you mean coming down
here? Don’t you live here?"
"Just in the winter. From May to
October I work at a club in the
North Carolina mountains."
"So you’re a snowbird," Louise
concluded.
"Sort of," Marty chuckled, "more like a migrant worker."
That drew an amused smile from
the taller woman. "Have you always
been a golf pro?"
"Pretty much. I played on the tour
for about three years, but I
wasn’t good enough to make a
living. There wasn’t really much
prize money back then. So I got
married for a couple of years and
had Katie."
"Your daughter seems very nice."
"She is, and she really enjoys the
club work. Lord knows, she grew
up with enough of it."
"So you’ve always been around the
clubs?"
"Yeah, it suits me. I like helping
people play better, and…” she
looked up into the striking blue
eyes, "I meet some of the nicest
people."
Louise smiled down at her dance
partner, releasing her grip as the
tempo picked up on the next tune.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"Sure, whatever you’re having."
"A glass of wine?"
"That’s fine." Marty wasn’t
accustomed to women buying her
drinks. It was usually the other
way around. "Tell you what… you go
on back to the table and I’ll bring
it. Red or white?"
"It’s Valentine’s Day. How about
red?"
Marty smiled and turned toward
the bar. Wow! She’s pretty nice
when she isn’t mad at me!
Louise made her way back to the
table to find her two friends.
"Are you having a good time now,
Lou?" Shirley asked, already
seeing the answer on her friend’s
face.
"As a matter of fact, I am. That
Marty Beck can be quite charming
when she sets her mind to it," she
chuckled.
"She sure can. We both like Marty
a lot."
"Does she, uh, see a lot of
different women? I mean, she just
seems like the sort of person who
would be… friendly with lots of
people." What she seems like is a
professional flirt.
"You know, I don’t know of anyone
that Marty’s gone out with since
we’ve known her," Linda said. "I
heard she had some sort of really
bad breakup a few years ago. But
I can’t say as I’ve ever seen her
with anybody."
"Speak of the devil," Shirley
exclaimed, standing to shake the
golfer’s hand.
"Okay, what were you telling her?"
she teased. Handing the wine glass
to Louise, she cautioned, "Don’t
believe a word anyone says about
me. It’s all hearsay and jealous
gossip."
"I’ll keep that in mind," Louise
assured. She wanted to find out
for herself anyway.
"It’s a nice crowd, don’t you
think?" Marty pushed the topic of
conversation away from herself.
"It seems to get bigger every
year," Linda answered.
"Do you come every year?" Louise
addressed the golf pro.
"Not for a while," Marty
confessed. In fact, it had been
years. But when Shirley had
casually mentioned after their
foursome the other day that the
tall newcomer might be tow
tonight, Marty had made her own
plans to attend.
"Say, Shirley and I were just
talking about our big fishing date
tomorrow," Linda explained. "We
thought we should probably head
on home."
Automatically, Louise reached for
her wrap.
"Wait, Lou!" You can’t go yet; I’ve only danced with you once. "I’d be
happy to give you a ride if you’d
like to stay a little longer."
"I don’t know," the tall woman said hesitantly. It was one thing to be
dancing with this woman. But
riding home with her would be
almost like… a date. "I should
probably go on with Shirley and
Linda."
"No, you should stay," Shirley
coaxed. "We’ll feel awful if you
leave early on account of us."
"Well, I…"
"Please, Lou," Marty wasn’t above begging. "Tell you what. Let’s
have… two more dances. Then I’ll
take you home. There’s one now."
A slow tune was starting up, and
Marty held out her hand gallantly.
Louise looked back and forth
between Marty and her friends,
who seemed to be encouraging her
to stay. "Okay."
Squeezing again onto the floor,
the women assumed the familiar
embrace. Louise liked the feel of
the strong arm around her waist
and the calloused hand that held
her own.
"So Lou," Marty looked her
straight in the eye, "I bet our
/>
mutual friends could tell us a little
about each other, but that seems,
I don’t know, less reliable than
going right to the source. So what
if instead I just asked you to tell
me about yourself - just the stuff
you’re comfortable with sharing -
and I’ll do the same."
"Okay." Louise felt a little
embarrassed after being caught
talking with Linda and Shirley; she
liked Marty’s more direct
approach. "I moved here in
November from Greensburg,
Pennsylvania, which is where I
first met Linda and Shirley 18
years ago. I’m 63; I just retired
from teaching high school math
for 39 years; and my partner of 31
years died three years ago of a
heart attack." That was the sum of
Louise Stevens’ life. "And I miss
her very much," she added softly.
Instinctively, Marty pulled the
woman a little closer. "I’m sure you
do, Lou. You were lucky to have
someone love you for 31 years."
"I was. But I was even luckier that
I got to love her." The sadness of
Rhonda’s memory swept over her,
and her blue eyes filled with tears.
This was one of those moments in
her life where Marty would have
given her right arm to be a foot
taller. All she wanted in the world
was to cradle this woman’s head
protectively against her chest.
Instead, she stepped closer and
leaned her own head on the soft
shoulder. "I’m so sorry you lost
her, Lou."
Louise raised her hand and cupped
the blonde head. This felt good. In
the months after Rhonda died,
many had offered her a
comforting embrace; but until now,
none of those gestures had given
her strength. Maybe she hadn’t
been ready to receive it then; and
now, no one knew how much she
still needed it. But this little
woman seemed to know.
Without a break, the lovers’ ballad
led into another, and Marty
acknowledged with disappointment
that her evening with Lou would
soon be over.
"Now it’s your turn. Tell me all
about Marty Beck." Louise had
pulled herself together.
"Okay, I’m 61, and I haven’t ever
really had a very long relationship
with anybody, except Angela, and
she threw me out about eight
years ago because I did something
very foolish. Some mistakes are
so bad you just can’t recover from
them."
Louise suspected that she knew
exactly what sort of mistake
Marty had made.
"So I haven’t really seen anyone
since then; I’ve just been sort of
working on myself."
"Are you happy with who you are
now?" I’m starting to think you’re
adorable.
"Yeah, I really am. How about you,
Lou? Are you happy?"
"I’m lonely," she answered
honestly. "I didn’t expect to spend
this part of my life by myself."
"Who says you have to?" Louise
looked startled by the question, so
Marty continued, barely missing a
beat. "I mean, there are lots of
nice people down here our age
who like to have fun. They like to
play golf, and go fishing, and just
walk along the beach. There’s no
reason for you to ever have to do
that stuff alone unless you want
to."
The music stopped and the couple
returned to the table. "I guess we
should go," Louise suggested,
picking up her wrap. Taking
Marty’s offered arm, she and the
golf pro wordlessly exited into the
parking lot, finally reaching a dark
green Subaru Outback wagon.
Following Louise’s directions -
very important in Cape Coral, since
only a handful of the streets went
over the grid of canals - Marty
drove the beautiful woman to her
doorstep. Hopping out, she walked
around and opened the door,
extending her arm again to escort
Louise to her front porch.
"I’m really glad we ran into each
other tonight, Lou."
"So am I, and I’m really glad that
we decided to take a Mulligan,"
the tall woman answered smiling,
squeezing the arm of her new
companion.
An excited yapping from the other
side of the door startled the golf
pro as they stepped onto the
porch.
"Who’s that?" Marty asked.
"That’s, uh… my Doberman
pinscher. He’s very protective,"
Louise answered sternly.
"Well, he certainly sounds vicious.
What is he, three weeks old?"
Both women laughed, not sure how
best to get through this awkward
moment. The dance, the drive
home, now the doorstep. Louise
hadn’t had a moment like this in 35
years.
"Listen, uh, Lou?" Marty
stammered nervously. "If I were
to take the day off on Monday,
would you be interested in riding
out to Sanibel for lunch, and
maybe walking on the beach over
there?"
Louise’s heart hammered. Since
Rhonda died, she hadn’t been out
with another woman… at least not
on a date, and that’s exactly what
this sounded like. But she really,
really liked Marty Beck and
wanted to be absolutely sure
before panicking completely. "You
mean like a… date?"
"Well, yeah… it could be a date."
Noting the wide eyes of her
companion, Marty backpedaled
quickly. "But it doesn’t have to be.
We could just be friends." That
sounded so lame. "Of course, I’d
really like it if it was a date. I’d
like it a lot."
Louise wouldn’t look at her, but
she appeared to be thinking really
hard. After a torturous eternity,
the tall woman finally answered.
"Okay, Marty. Why don’t we say
it’s a date!"
"Grrreat!" Marty exclaimed,
realizing with embarrassment that
she’d sounded just like Tony the
Tiger. "I’ll pick you up at… 11?"
"I’ll be ready." Oh my God, I’m
going out on a date in less than
three days!
"Okay." Marty’s feet felt like they were glued to the front porch.
Their plans made, there really
wasn’t any reason at all for her to
still be standing there, but it just
seemed like things were sort of…
unfinished.
Louise was thinking the same
thing. Both of them knew what
finished a moment like this. It was
a big
step - a huge step, really -
and if she’d thought about it too
much, she probably would have
stopped herself; but the words
were out before she knew it. "So
do you think you’d like to… kiss me
goodnight… maybe?"
Marty sure hoped she’d heard
right, or she was going to get
slapped for sure. Stepping
forward, she slipped one hand
around Louise’s shapely waist and
another on the back of her neck.
Ever so slowly, she pulled the
beautiful red lips toward her own.
They were soft… warm… and
unexpectedly inviting. Boldly, she
ever-so-gently teased them apart,
shuddering when the warm mouth
opened to allow her in. Tenderly,
their tongues met and Marty got a
taste of the passion that brewed
underneath the surface of Louise
Stevens’ staid exterior.
Louise too awakened to sensations
of arousal, surprised to discover a
yearning for this woman who held
her so close. That was sweet,
really sweet. Louise wrapped her
arms around the petite woman’s
middle and laid her cheek against
the soft blonde hair. "Do you think
you’d like to… come in and meet
Petie and help me drink a pot of
coffee? I bet we could find a lot
to talk about."
Marty smiled. She couldn’t think
of anything she’d like better. She
wanted to know all there was to
know about Lou Stevens.
MAY 2002
For the fourth or fifth time,
Louise strode through the
darkened house, checking the
windows and doors one last time.
The patio furniture was stacked
neatly in the corner of the garage;
the kitchen was bare of all
perishables; and the thermostat
was set for a warm 82 degrees. A
timer would turn on three lights
every evening at dusk.
"You ready to go, sweetheart?"
Marty called from the front porch.
Louise smiled at the endearment;
she was Marty Beck’s sweetheart,
and Marty was hers. After the
Valentine’s dance, there had been
no looking back for either one of
them. A force neither of them
could withstand pushed them past
their early missteps, and into each
other’s heart. Within only a couple
of weeks they became lovers, and
now they were headed to Marty’s
condo in the North Carolina
mountains for the summer and fall
season. Louise knew her own heart
well enough to recognize true love
- and this adorable little golf pro
was the real deal.
"Is Petie in the car already?"
"Yep! We’re just waiting for you."
The little blonde strode back to