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Mulligan

Page 12

by K. G. MacGregor


  night away, Louise missed the

  comforting embrace of her lover

  and the smile that warmed her

  from across the room. Marty had

  been so supportive of her once

  she'd decided to do this, listening

  to her spout ideas about what to

  say, and helping to select the

  pictures to show. Rhonda would

  have liked the little golfer, and

  there was no doubt that Marty

  would have hit it off with the band

  director.

  It was funny in a way that Louise

  had never thought to compare her

  feelings for Marty to those for

  Rhonda. She always felt lucky that

  she got to have them both. Rhonda

  was right for her then; and Marty

  was right for her now.

  "… please bring your tray tables to

  the upright and locked position.

  The flight attendants will be

  passing through the cabin one last

  time to collect any remaining

  service items. We'll be landing

  shortly."

  Louise peeked out at the swamp

  below, glad to be back home and

  eager to be in her lover's arms.

  Louise awoke somewhat

  disoriented at the ringing phone.

  The room was already dark, which

  meant it was after five on this

  December evening. Through the

  bedroom door, she could hear

  Marty answer the call in a quiet

  voice.

  A nap this late in the day was a

  rarity for the retiree, but the last

  24 hours had sapped her energy.

  Louise smiled as she turned

  beneath the covers. It was also

  rare for her to sleep in the nude,

  but she and Marty had made sweet

  love when they returned home

  from the airport. She had needed

  badly to show her lover how she

  felt, just as she had needed to

  feel alive in Marty's love. The last

  thing she remembered was feeling

  her lover's arms and legs draped

  across her body as Marty gently

  stroked her brow and whispered

  words of love.

  The golfer's silhouette appeared

  in the doorway. "Sweetheart?"

  "I'm awake. Who is it?"

  "It's Ted Meyer."

  Louise sat up and tucked the sheet

  beneath her armpits, scooting

  over and patting the bed for

  Marty to sit. Petie joined them,

  taking his place on Louise's

  opposite side.

  "Hi Ted… yeah, but I couldn't

  believe how tired I was. This

  getting old stuff isn't for sissies."

  Unconsciously, she stroked her

  lover's back as she listened to the

  news. "You're kidding! So what

  happens now?" She gripped

  Marty's shoulder with excitement.

  "That's great news, Ted. I'm so

  glad you called… No, it wasn't me

  at all. It was just the right thing to

  do… Thanks, bye."

  "So what's the news?"

  "You won't believe this, Marty!

  People saw the story in the paper

  today and they started calling the

  school board. Ted said they had

  almost five hundred calls before

  lunch, and that most people were

  mad. Apparently, enough of the

  board members got worried about

  their jobs and they called an

  emergency meeting and reversed

  their decision. Darren's going to

  get to keep his job after all."

  "Lou, that's great! You did it!"

  "No, I didn't do it. We all did it. It was plain as day that they were

  wrong, and with all the arguments

  in the paper, and then all the

  parents calling, they finally saw it

  themselves."

  "Well, I'm still proud of you,"

  Marty said.

  "You've done this to me, Marty.

  Being with you just makes me want

  to tell everybody how happy I am

  all the time." Louise wrapped both

  arms around her partner's waist.

  "You make me happy too, Lou. Are

  you still planning on going to the

  Christmas party tonight, or do you

  need to rest some more?"

  "I'm coming with you, sweetheart.

  Let me go get in the shower…"

  "Hold on a minute," Marty stopped her. "I know it's early, but how

  would you like to open a Christmas

  present?"

  "It's nine days until Christmas!"

  "I know, but this present's special.

  I think you might like to have it

  when we go out tonight. I know I'd

  like it."

  "Okay," Louise nodded.

  Marty disappeared and returned

  with a wrapped shoebox.

  "You want me to wear new shoes?"

  "Just open it."

  Louise did as she was told, folding

  back the tissue paper to find

  several sleeves of golf balls. "I

  get it. You want me to take these

  new golf balls in my purse so I can

  slug anyone you flirt with."

  "I do not flirt," the golfer said defensively. Marty nudged the box

  in the center aside to reveal a

  velvet jewelry box in the bottom.

  "I couldn't have you guessing what

  it was," she explained. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

  And a surprise it was, as the sight

  of the diamond-studded gold band

  nearly stole her breath. "Oh,

  Marty!"

  "Will you wear this for me, Lou?"

  "Oh, Marty!" Louise had always

  been jealous of those who got to

  proudly display the symbol of

  their love. But trading rings with

  Rhonda would have prompted too

  many unwelcome questions. And

  now, Marty was offering to have

  her wear this beautiful band.

  The blonde woman slipped it gently

  over the knuckle on Louise's left

  hand. "I'd appreciate it if you'd

  wear it all the time, Lou, and if

  you'd always let it remind you that

  I love you, and that I'm going to

  share the rest of your life."

  "Oh, Marty!" It seemed to be all

  she could say. Finally, she found

  more words. "It's the most

  beautiful ring I've ever seen. But

  what about you? Shouldn't I get a

  ring for you too?"

  "I can't really wear one,

  sweetheart. You know, I have

  these fat knuckles and then my

  hands sweat all day, and I usually

  have on a glove. But maybe if you

  went for a nose ring, I could do

  that!"

  "You are so silly, Marty Beck. Just

  for that, I might take you up on it

  and get one so I can lead you

  wherever I want you to go."

  "You don't need a nose ring for

  that, Lou. All you have to do is go

  somewhere and I'll follow you."

  "Oh, Marty! I love you so much."

  "I love you, too," the blonde

  woman answered as she hugged

  her lover close. "So did you get me

  a plaid sweater?"

  "Did you want a plaid sw
eater? I

  still have eight shopping days until

  Christmas," she teased.

  "No, that's okay. But I will be

  wearing something special

  tonight."

  "What's that?"

  "I thought I'd tuck a little

  mistletoe in my cap and see if I

  could get a certain tall, blue-eyed

  retired schoolteacher to kiss me

  all night."

  "Well you'd better not put that cap

  on until you're ready to come

  home, or you're not even going to

  know you're at a Christmas party,"

  Louise warned.

  "I guess we should go put in an

  appearance then, huh?"

  Louise was looking forward to the

  chance to take her partner's side

  at the party tonight. She wanted

  people to see their happiness

  together, and she wanted them to

  know that she was proud to call

  Marty Beck her partner. She

  would always regret that she and

  Rhonda hadn't publicly declared

  their love for one another; but

  with Marty, she had a chance to

  love out loud, and she wasn't going

  to let it pass her by.

  The Cart Path

  Not Taken

  JULY 1966

  " GOOD MORNING, LADIES and

  gentlemen," the announcer barked

  to the crowd, just as he had when

  he sent the preceding nine groups

  of three off the first tee at the

  Hazeltine National Golf Club in

  Minneapolis. "At the tee is…" He

  went on to introduce the first

  golfer in the group, highlighting

  the fact that she was last year's

  Open champion and the leading

  money-winner for 1965. Her tee

  shot sailed to the right over the

  hill out of sight, and the crowd

  applauded.

  "At the tee is…" The second

  woman in the group was one of the

  hottest players on the tour this

  year, having won the two previous

  tourneys in Milwaukee and Iowa.

  Her shot also cleared the hill on

  the right, and the crowd cheered.

  Finally, the third golfer

  approached the tee, her blonde

  ponytail draping over the back of

  her visor. Unlike the others in her

  group, who wore culottes and

  sleeveless blouses, this one was

  dressed in shorts and an open-

  collar golf shirt.

  "At the tee is Martha Russell,

  from Holland, Michigan. Miss

  Russell has played on the LPGA

  tour for three years, finishing

  third at the Peach Blossom Open

  in Spartanburg, South Carolina in

  1965."

  Marty cringed at the meager

  introduction. Here she was, playing

  the best golf of her life, teeing

  off on the last day of the U. S.

  Women's Open in the next to last

  group. After yesterday's

  blistering round of seven under,

  she was tied with these two

  women for fourth place with a

  legitimate shot of winning the

  championship. That round - a

  course record for tournament play

  - had won her the attention of

  both the sportswriters and the

  gallery, a first for the struggling

  pro.

  "Remember, it falls left over that

  hill, so you want to stay high on

  the right," her caddy advised.

  Wallace Beck was a longtime

  friend and golf buddy from her

  hometown. Realizing his own

  limitations with the game, he had

  thrown in with Marty when she

  decided to try to make it on the

  ladies pro tour. For three years,

  they had traveled the country on a

  shoestring budget, finishing out

  of the money on roughly half her

  starts.

  "You don't think I should try to

  carry the slope on the left like I

  did yesterday?" With nothing to

  lose, Marty had taken one chance

  after another in the third round,

  even finishing the day with an

  eagle on the par five 18th hole.

  "There's a lot of money at stake

  here, Marty. If it were me, I'd

  play it safe all day."

  The blonde woman considered his

  advice. If she played her usual

  conservative game, she stood to

  collect over a thousand dollars

  with a fourth or fifth place finish.

  But dropping as few as five

  strokes could mean falling out of

  the serious money. On the other

  hand, a repeat of yesterday's

  round might net her the $4,000

  winner's purse, and would likely

  land her a sponsor.

  Marty nodded and addressed the

  ball.

  Smack!

  The gallery gasped and applauded

  excitedly as her hammered drive

  sailed cleanly over the slope on

  the left side. For the first time in

  her brief career, she watched as

  a good portion of the crowd

  climbed down from their bleacher

  seats to follow her group on the

  course.

  Wallace shook his head as she

  handed him the club. Marty Russell

  was about the stubbornest woman

  he knew.

  MARCH 2003

  Marty Beck peered into the snack

  bag she had picked up from the

  bin on the jet bridge while they

  were boarding the connecting

  flight in Dallas. That was definitely

  a cookie in the bottom, whether

  chocolate chip or raisin she

  couldn't tell. But if she were

  nonchalant…

  "Here, sweetie. Trade me." Louise Stevens held out a sealed bag of

  carrots and celery from her purse.

  "I'll take your cookie."

  "You've got to be kidding, Lou!"

  Jamming her hand into the bag,

  she extracted the item in question

  and admired it. "Who in their right

  mind trades a chocolate chip

  cookie for carrots and celery?"

  "We've been through this, Marty.

  You're the one who wanted to lose

  weight. You asked me to help, and

  that's what I'm doing," Louise

  answered calmly.

  "But I haven't had a cookie in over

  a month!"

  "And you've lost eight pounds."

  She didn't mind one bit that

  Marty had put on 20 pounds in

  their first year together, but it

  bothered the shorter woman a lot,

  so she'd agreed to help out.

  These days, Louise prepared only

  low-calorie meals, and she carried

  carrot and celery sticks almost

  everywhere they went.

  Resignedly, Marty handed over

  the cookie and took the colorful

  plastic bag. She already felt

  better about her weight, and it

  was nice to be taking a vacation

  feeling like she was in control.

  Chuckling to herself, the blonde

  acknowledged that the woman to

  her right was really the one in


  control.

  "I'm really excited about this trip,

  Lou. Did I tell you it's the best

  present anyone's ever given me?"

  "Only about 10 times." Louise

  smiled and took her partner's

  hand. "We're going to have such a

  good time." This was their first

  real vacation together, a trip to

  Palm Springs for the Dinah Shore

  ladies golf tournament. In recent

  years, the tourney had dropped

  the reference to its iconic host in

  favor of a corporate name, the

  food conglomerate; but to old-

  timers like Marty Beck, it would

  always be The Dinah.

  "How are you guys doing back

  there?" Marty turned in her seat

  to spy on Linda and Shirley,

  seated directly behind them in the

  coach cabin.

  "We're okay. I'll be glad when we

  get there, though. It'll feel good

  to walk around a little," Shirley

  answered. The 68-year-old woman

  had had a hip replacement in

  January, and she and Linda had

  considered canceling the trip. But

  the recovery was going well, and

  once Marty had explained about

  the layout of the course and the

  bleachers, they decided to come

  along after all.

  "I bet. I can't wait for you guys to

  meet Carol and Joyce." Marty's

  friends from North Carolina made

  the trek to Palm Springs every

  year, The Dinah having become

  something of an annual rite of

  spring. Marty had come to this

  tournament three times over the

  past 20 years, but this time was

  special. It was Louise's first LPGA

  tournament ever, and Marty was

  eager to see her partner caught

  up in the excitement of the event.

  "They're really nice," Louise

  added.

  "Of course, we told them the same

  about you, so you should probably

  take what we say with a grain of

  salt," Marty kidded.

  "You need to feed her more, Lou.

  She has a mean streak when she's

  hungry."

  "… but I'm getting around much

  better now." Shirley was filling

  Carol and Joyce in on her surgery.

  "It sounds like it was the right

  thing to do. I put off the knee

  replacement as long as I could,"

  Joyce answered. "Now I wish I'd

  done it sooner."

  "Boy, do we sound like a bunch of

  old women or what!" Linda

  remarked as she helped Louise

  load the dishwasher.

  "We are a bunch of old women,"

  Marty retorted. "I can say that,

  because I'm the youngest one

  here, and I'm old." Marty would

  turn 63 in April.

  "You are not old!" Carol had known Marty for ages. "The only time

 

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