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Mulligan

Page 18

by K. G. MacGregor

Marty sat on the bed facing her.

  "Remember what you told me

  about seeing my mom?"

  Louise nodded.

  "You have to do this, because

  there may not be any other

  chances. All of us wanted one last

  chance—you wanted it with

  Rhonda, I wanted it with Betty.

  This is your chance with William."

  "This looks like a nice place,"

  Marty said as Hiram pulled up to

  the club drop at the Eagle Oaks

  Golf and Country Club. They had

  passed several of the fairways on

  the way to the clubhouse, and she

  knew from experience that a

  course like this one was expensive

  to maintain. Hiram probably paid a

  pretty penny in membership dues.

  "It's the best around. Lou and

  Rhonda used to like playing here."

  He looked at her tentatively, as if

  wanting to say more, but not sure

  he should.

  Marty sensed what was on his

  mind and welcomed the chance to

  lay his worries to rest. She liked

  Hiram, and appreciated his

  protective streak when it came to

  Louise. "Something else you want

  to say, Hiram?"

  "Just … Lou's been through a

  whole lot." He got out and walked

  to the back of the SUV and

  opened the rear gate. Marty came

  around to meet him.

  "I know all about Rhonda, and what

  Lou went through when she died.

  Every day, I feel lucky that your

  sister was brave enough to try to

  be happy again, and all I want to

  do is make sure that she is."

  Marty lugged her clubs to the

  drop and waited while Hiram did

  the same. She was pleased to see

  his easy smile as he digested what

  she had said.

  "A man worries about his little

  sister, you know… no matter how

  old he gets."

  "I'm glad you do, Hiram. But you

  don't ever have to worry about

  me. Like I said, all I want to do is

  make her happy."

  "From the looks of things, I'd say

  you were doing a pretty good job.

  Just don't ever stop."

  "I don't intend to," Marty

  answered with a grin. "Now that

  we've got all that settled, why

  don't we head out to the driving

  range first?"

  "Sure thing."

  Hiram led her into the pro shop,

  where she scouted the displays

  while he went to get tokens for

  the ball machine. Immediately, she

  confirmed her earlier assessment

  —this was definitely an upscale

  club. Hardly anything on the

  women's racks was under a

  hundred bucks. Even the items on

  the sale table were higher than

  the first-rate apparel back at Pine

  Island.

  "How are you doing, Hiram?"

  Marty looked up to see Louise's

  brother greet a couple of men just

  coming into the pro shop. Both

  were in their early to mid-fifties,

  dressed in expensive golf duds.

  "Norm, Carl." He nodded politely

  to each.

  "You playing today?" It was Norm

  who asked. He was a burly man

  with a bulbous nose that made

  Marty think of her ex-husband.

  "Just hitting some range balls,"

  Hiram answered meekly.

  "Too bad. Carl and I could use a

  few extra bucks this week. You

  know how the wives are about

  spending our money." Norm

  chuckled and nudged his friend,

  who laughed along.

  Hiram glanced sheepishly over at

  Marty and back at the two men.

  "Sorry, guys. Not today."

  "Aw, come on, Hiram," Carl

  goaded. "Maybe it's your lucky

  day."

  Marty caught his eye again and

  shot him a quick wink, hoping he

  would pick up on her idea. She

  didn't even know these jerks, and

  already she wanted to kick their

  asses.

  "I don't know, guys. I'm here with

  my sister's friend. We just came

  out to hit some balls."

  "That's good, Hiram," Carl said.

  "Practice makes perfect. Isn't

  that what they say?" Again, the

  two men laughed at Hiram's

  expense.

  "I've been working a little with a

  golf pro too, so I wanted to try

  out a few things. I might not be as

  easy to whip as I was last time we

  played."

  That's it, Hiram. Suck 'em in. Nice

  and easy.

  "Money talks, Stevens. There's an

  ATM right outside." Norm

  gestured with his thumb toward

  the door. "All we need is a fourth."

  Hiram looked around as if in

  search of a playing partner. "I

  don't know, fellows. I promised

  Marty I'd go hit with her." He

  looked back at Marty and waved

  her over. "Marty, these are a

  couple of my colleagues, Norm and

  Carl."

  "How do you do?" She walked over

  and shook hands with each, smiling

  demurely. She turned to Hiram.

  "If you want to play with your

  friends, I can take the car and

  head on home. Just call when you

  want somebody to come back for

  you."

  "No, that's no way to treat

  company," he said. "Some other

  time, fellows."

  That's too subtle, Hiram. "What if

  …? I could be your partner. Then

  you wouldn't miss out on a chance

  to play with your friends."

  Norm snorted. "Yeah, Hiram. Why

  don't you let Marty be your

  partner? You don't want to be

  rude to your guest."

  "I play in a lot of foursomes with

  the women at my club down in

  Florida. Sometimes we team up and

  count whatever score is the lowest

  on each hole," she suggested.

  "What if we did that?"

  Hiram shrugged. "I-I guess. Is

  that all right with you guys?"

  "Sure!" Norm slapped his

  shoulder. "Best ball. Ten dollars a

  hole."

  Hiram pulled out his wallet and

  peeked inside. "All I've got is

  twenties. I better see if I can get

  some change."

  "Twenty dollars a hole, then!"

  Norm roared.

  Hiram shrugged. "I better hit the

  ATM … just in case."

  Marty followed him outside as he

  fished for his bank card. "Are

  these guys any good?"

  "High eighties, usually."

  "You can put your card away, then.

  We won't be needing any money."

  Marty chuckled evilly. "I hate to

  badmouth your friends, but these

  guys are a couple of jerks."

  "Oh, they're not my friends. Norm

  and Carl work at one of the big law

  firms downtown. They're always

  bragging about business and how

  much money they're raking in."

/>   "Let's take them down a notch,

  shall we?" Marty hadn't had this

  much fun on the course in twenty

  years.

  Louise pulled up in front of the

  house she had grown up in. The

  small yard had been mowed

  recently, apparent from the dried

  grass that clumped in rows. She

  remembered how she used to envy

  Hiram, who was given fifty cents a

  week to take care of the yard.

  She earned her allowance with

  housework, but she would rather

  have been working outside too.

  From the curb, she could see the

  window fans on the first floor

  going full speed. That house was

  like an oven in the summertime,

  she recalled, much like the old

  house she and Rhonda had owned

  in Greensburg.

  Louise drew a deep breath and got

  out of her car, scooping up the

  carton of fruit preserves she had

  brought from North Carolina as a

  gift to William and his wife. After

  Hiram had told her that their

  older brother wasn't well, she

  began to worry about how she

  would react at seeing him.

  Before she reached the porch,

  the front door opened. A frail

  woman stood behind the wooden

  screen door and waited for her to

  approach. Without even a

  greeting, the woman opened the

  door and motioned her in. Louise

  knew from experience that this

  was about as hospitable as Glenda

  Stevens could manage.

  "How are you, Glenda?" She made

  a motion to hug her older sister-

  in-law, but Glenda shied away.

  Louise settled for a pat on the

  shoulder.

  "We're all right, I guess." She

  took the carton of preserves

  without another word and

  shuffled down a hallway that led

  to what had been Louise's

  parents' bedroom. The room was

  dark, lit only by the television and

  a small sliver of daylight peeking

  out from behind the dingy brown

  curtains. "William, look who's

  here."

  Louise inhaled the dank odor of

  the room as she entered, taking in

  the pitiful sight of her ailing

  brother. He was seated in an old

  vinyl recliner, a plastic tube

  pouring oxygen into his lungs

  through his nose. His shirt and

  pants were covered with food

  stains from his latest meal, the

  remains of which sat on a tray at

  his side.

  "William? It's me, Louise."

  "I can see that," he said softly, not in his usual gruff tone.

  "How are you?"

  "How do . . I look?" He paused in the midst of his sentence to draw

  a breath.

  "Not so good."

  Glenda collected the tray and left

  immediately for another part of

  the house. From the looks of

  things, this visit by her husband's

  sister would provide a much-

  needed break from her caretaking

  role.

  "Do you hurt anywhere?"

  "Just . . can't breathe very well."

  William Stevens had outlived most

  of his cohort, many of whom were

  claimed by lung ailments similar to

  the one that plagued him now.

  "I've been visiting Hiram and

  Judy. I'm really glad Glenda said it

  was okay to come."

  William grunted and grappled for

  the remote control that was

  buried in his chair cushion. After

  a long moment, he found the

  button he was looking for and

  muted the TV.

  As she waited for her brother to

  finish his task, Louise looked

  around the room. On the

  bookshelf behind his chair were

  several framed photographs,

  mostly pictures of the

  grandchildren … and probably a

  few great-grandchildren. An old

  black and white photo caught her

  eye. It was one she had seen at

  Hiram's a couple of nights ago, a

  picture of the adult William with

  his two siblings, both toddlers.

  Louise was deeply moved to think

  that it meant something to her

  brother to have a reminder of his

  family, especially considering the

  distance they had maintained over

  the years.

  "I can … hear you better now."

  "Did Hiram tell you that I moved

  to Florida a couple of years ago?"

  He nodded. "Said you … retired."

  "That's right. That's one of the

  reasons I haven't been to see you

  as often as I used to. It's a long

  way to drive."

  "Hiram comes … about once a

  month."

  "That's what he told me. You

  know, he's retiring this year. How

  old were you when you quit work?"

  She just wanted to make

  conversation, anything to get her

  brother to talk.

  "Sixty-five … on my birthday. That

  was the … company rule."

  "Goodness, that was seventeen

  years ago. What have you been

  doing with yourself all this time?"

  William gave a faint laugh. "Sitting

  in this chair … mostly." He peered

  over the arm to check the gauge

  on his oxygen tank. Apparently

  satisfied, he leaned back.

  "It's awfully hot down in Florida

  right now. A friend of mine has a

  house in the mountains of North

  Carolina and I've stayed up there

  for the past two summers."

  "Do you still . . live with that . .

  woman?" he rasped.

  Louise was jolted by the question.

  William had met Rhonda only once

  or twice, and she didn't recall

  ever telling him that they lived

  together. "No, she died almost

  four years ago."

  William grunted. "Sorry. I … liked

  her. She was … nice."

  "Thank you … thank you for saying

  that. She meant a lot to me."

  He nodded and looked at his shaky

  hands. "I could see that … when

  you were with her."

  Louise couldn't think what to say.

  Her brother's words had stunned

  her into silence.

  "I bet I won't . . be here the next

  time you come . . to Wheeling."

  Louise's eyes began to mist. "I

  hope that isn't true."

  "It comes … for everybody,

  Louise." He shifted in his chair,

  being careful to stretch the

  plastic tube so as not to impede

  the oxygen flow. "S'pose I should

  say. . thank you. . for the house."

  "You're welcome." Louise smiled

  despite the tears that continued

  to build. "Hiram and I both were

  glad to see the house kept in the

  family."

  He glanced toward the corner.

  "You know, I . . was born right

  here . . in this room."

  Louise nodded. She and Hiram

&
nbsp; were born in the local hospital, but

  she had always been fascinated

  with the idea of her mother giving

  birth to William at home. "I'm glad

  you got to live here again . . that

  you got to come back." That you'll

  probably die in this room as well.

  "William, I …"

  She looked up to see his eyes also

  clouded with tears and she fought

  to keep her composure for what

  she needed to say.

  "I wish we'd had a chance to get

  to know each other better all

  those years ago. I was always

  afraid of you, you know."

  William chuckled softly. "Yeah. But

  I was. . proud of you. And Hiram

  too. I used to . . tell the boys at. .

  the mines about you. ."

  He finished with a coughing spell

  that caused Louise to jump up and

  offer him water. She suddenly felt

  guilty for the burden her visit was

  placing on his struggle to breathe.

  "I guess I should be going soon.

  I'm really glad I got to see you."

  "I … appreciate you coming by.

  Take care of . . yourself, Louise."

  "I will. You take care of yourself

  too." She stood and picked up her

  pocketbook.

  "One more thing …" He looked

  right at her, the tears now

  trickling down his cheeks. "Be

  happy."

  "I will." She bent to kiss him on the forehead and pat his hand in

  farewell. After one last look—

  probably the very last look—she

  left, fighting back a sob as she

  called goodbye to Glenda.

  Be happy, he said. Life and health

  were just too precious to waste.

  The foursome approached the

  first tee, where Norm and Carl

  eagerly hopped out of the cart.

  They were probably already

  counting their money, Marty

  thought. On the short ride from

  the clubhouse, she had explained

  to Hiram that hustling was an art.

  You couldn't spring your trap too

  early, or they might find a way to

  elevate their game and overcome

  your advantage. But you couldn't

  wait too long, because you didn't

  want them to get too much

  confidence—confident golfers

  played better.

  "Just remember, if we drop these

  first couple of holes, it's no big

  deal. Besides, if you can swing the

  way you were swinging last night,

  you might just hold your own."

  "I doubt that." He got out of the cart and pulled his driver out of

  the bag.

  "Confidence, Hiram."

  He nodded and approached the

  tee.

  "Why don't you take honors,

  Hiram … since you might not get

  another chance today?" Carl

  laughed at his joke.

  The first hole was a

  straightforward par four, with a

 

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