The Long Shot

by A. L. Brooks

  Adrienne gazed at her in wonder, knowing that they’d just stepped up onto another level in this new relationship. And she was more than happy to use that word now—this was a relationship, not just some dalliance with little meaning.

  “So, um, how about that ice cream?” Morgan shuffled to the edge of the couch and pointed at the tray. “Hm?”

  Smiling, thankful that Morgan was comfortable in giving them this space, Adrienne nodded.

  “I think ice cream is a wonderful idea.”

  Morgan fist-pumped and reached for the tub.

  Two days later, Morgan was still on a high. She ran through the Presidio early on Friday morning, not bothered by the light summer rain that fell in a gentle curtain across the city and coated her hair and body. She’d replayed that evening in her mind so many times, and every time she did so, she smiled as a warm glow settled over her. At this rate, I could save the city on heating costs.

  She eased down from her run a few blocks from home and walked the rest of the way. As much fun as it was to keep thinking about Adrienne and all they’d shared on Wednesday, today she really needed to get her head back to the forthcoming trip to Europe. The practice yesterday had been great; her swing felt as good as it ever had, and her hands had been light and deft on all the bunker shots. Today was putting and approach shots, and early tomorrow morning she’d play a full round with a club caddy before flying out to London overnight.

  It would be easy to say that her game had only improved once she and Adrienne had realized they couldn’t fight what was happening between them, but that wasn’t the whole story. Yes, her emotional happiness played a part, of course it did, but working through what they were had made Morgan focus on what else was important. Somehow, she knew that even if she and Adrienne didn’t work out, she’d be able to keep her focus on her game. That first round at the PGA had scared the crap out of her, knowing she could drop her concentration that badly because of whatever else was going on in her life. But not anymore. She’d learned a few things about herself the past few weeks, and it was satisfying to have done so.

  She stepped into the house and smiled at Renata, who stood at the breakfast bar wiping down its surface. Morgan opened the refrigerator and liberated a carton of orange juice. After pouring herself a large glass, she also retrieved the one pastry left over from Wednesday and crammed half the delicacy in her mouth.

  The phone rang just as she swallowed.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, darling, how are you?”

  She sounded…nervous, and Morgan realized with a guilty start that she hadn’t contacted her mother since that awful dinner back in Williamsburg.

  “I’m good, Mom. Sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. I understand. That evening was…difficult.”

  Morgan blinked. It was very unlike her mom to admit something like that. “Um, yeah, it was.”

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Morgan, are you home any time today?”

  Today? “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the Fairmont.” She sighed. “Here in San Francisco.”

  “What?” Morgan blurted, then stumbled on before her mom could respond. “Why are you guys in San Francisco?”

  “Just me. I… There’s some things we need to talk about. Can I come see you?”

  “Of course! I’m free all morning. I have a sponsor thing this afternoon but that would be difficult to swap if—”

  “Oh, no, this morning will be fine.”

  “Do you want to come to the house?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  “Well, you jump in a cab as soon as you’re ready. I just need to shower, but if you get here before I’m done, Renata will let you in, okay?”

  “All right, darling. See you soon.”

  Morgan put the phone down on the counter and stared at it for a few seconds. What the hell was going on?

  “Everything okay, Miss Morgan?” Renata asked.

  Morgan lifted her head to find Renata looking at her with concern etched on her face.

  “Um, yeah. My mom’s coming to visit. I didn’t even know she was in the city.”

  “I’ll put some coffee on.” Renata patted Morgan’s hand and walked across the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” Morgan replied distractedly, “that would be great. I’m just going to…” She turned and walked out of the kitchen toward the bathroom.

  She heard her mom arrive around twenty minutes later, just as she was pulling on her soft yoga pants. In the kitchen, she found her mom sitting at the table with Renata fussing over her, pouring coffee and asking if she’d like anything to eat.

  “Oh, no, thank you, Renata. I’m fine with just coffee.”

  “Okay.” Renata caught Morgan’s eye. “I will go now.”

  Morgan smiled. “Thanks, Renata. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Be well, Miss Morgan.”

  Renata left quietly, and Morgan turned to stare at her mom. “Hi.”

  Her mother stood to give her a hug before easing back into her chair and motioning Morgan to sit alongside her.

  “Mom?”

  Morgan was getting seriously worried now. Was her mom ill? Or her dad?

  “This is difficult for me,” her mom began. Her hands twisted together on the table. “I’ve never been one to talk much about emotions. I know that’s where you get it from.”

  Morgan smiled wryly.

  Her mother sighed heavily. “I kept excusing him because of the problem with his hip. I know he’s been in considerable pain, and pain can make a person say or do things they would think twice about in better circumstances. But…”

  Morgan waited, breath held. Okay, so no one was dying, which was a relief, but clearly something had happened between her parents. She braced herself for what would come next.

  “He’s always been so stubborn.” Her mom shook her head slowly. “When he was playing, I assumed it was necessary, for him to focus, to keep going even when the odds might be stacked against him. But now, well, now it just makes him a pain in the ass.”

  The words, so unexpected from the rather refined tongue of her mother, made Morgan snort with laughter.

  Her mom chuckled too, but it sounded hollow.

  “I’ve told him I want a temporary separation.” She said the words quickly, as if actually speaking them out loud would somehow bring the world crashing down.

  Morgan grasped her hand, a thousand questions spinning in her mind.

  Wetness shimmered in her mom’s eyes. “I’m okay.” Her voice shook a little. “Really. I just…had enough. Finally.” She blinked a couple of times and wiped her eyes with her free hand. “And it was that dinner that was the final straw. I couldn’t bear to see him treat you that way anymore. I’m sorry, darling, for not speaking up before, but I had become…blind to what he was like. Seeing you so upset that evening, especially after you seemed so upbeat about what was happening between you and Adrienne…” She sighed. “I don’t know what came over me, but I confronted him about it when we got back to our hotel. He got a message from Jack talking about his latest win and couldn’t stop talking about how proud he was of Jack. I just saw red, darling. All I could think about was how he’d insulted your game at dinner, and, well, I said a lot of things. Told him his sexism belonged in the past, told him how he was in danger of losing the love of his daughter.” Her voice broke, and she waved her hand listlessly. “And lots more. It wasn’t pleasant.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Morgan got up from her chair and dropped to her knees in front of her mother, pulling her into a tender hug. She hated the idea that her mom had battled with her father, but at the same time, she burst with gratitude that her mom had finally called him on his misogyny.

  Her mom sniffed delicately, her face pressed against Morgan’s hair. “It’s okay. It will be okay.”


  “How did he take it?”

  At this, her mom snorted, a sound Morgan wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her make. “Well, he looked like he’d been shot, to be honest. He didn’t say much of anything for a couple of minutes, then told me I had no idea what I was talking about and switched on the TV!” She pulled back from Morgan’s embrace and smiled down at her. “Well, that only fired me up again, and I gave him more of the same.”

  Morgan laughed. “Mom, I…I can’t believe this. Is it okay to say I’m really proud of you?”

  “Morgan, I love that man and always have, but what I said to him was long overdue. I’m not proud, not for letting it go on as long as I did.”

  “Mom, don’t. You did it. That’s the main thing. I’ll be honest, I’ve been finding it really tough this year, hearing you make excuses for him all the time.”

  “I know, darling.” She stroked Morgan’s hair. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d stopped coming home or calling.”

  “It was getting difficult, I must admit.”

  Her mom hugged her close again. “I know.”

  “So what now? You told him you want to separate. Are you sure?”

  “I am. He refused to engage in any serious conversation about all the points I raised that night or when we got back home. I…I nearly backed down, but then I kept seeing your face in my mind’s eye, your hurt at the way he speaks to you, and I decided drastic action was the only way to get him to really listen.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, that may backfire on me if he thinks he’s better off without me shouting at him all the time.”

  Morgan shook her head. “No, it won’t. If there’s one thing I’ve always been sure of, it’s that he loves you. I’ll be surprised if this separation lasts long.”

  “Well, like I said, darling, he’s stubborn. He won’t like the idea of asking me to come back, especially as I made it abundantly clear I won’t do so until he’s prepared to face up to his behavior and attitudes. But I have to hope you’re right, that his love for me will be strong enough.”

  She looked haunted, and Morgan’s heart lurched. “It will. I’m sure of it.”

  There was a part of Morgan’s brain that found it a tad bizarre she was now actively fighting for her parents to stay together after all that her father had done—and not done—for Morgan over the years, but she recognized that his treatment of her and the love between her parents were two distinct things.

  “I hope so, darling.” She squeezed Morgan tightly. “But believe me, your love is just as important to me, and I won’t risk that.” She choked up, her quiet sobs tearing at Morgan. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, Morgan.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Morgan’s throat tightened and tears welled up. “You won’t. Never. Whatever happens, you’ll always have me, okay?”

  Her mom’s only answer was to hold Morgan even tighter.

  Chapter 17

  “And how is she holding up?” Adrienne asked. She sank back into her couch and noticed it was distinctly less comfortable than Morgan’s had been.

  Morgan sighed down the phone line. “She’s quiet. My dad called her last night, wondering when she was ‘going to stop this ridiculous charade and come home.’ She asked him if he was ready to change, he made some noise about her making a mountain out of a molehill, and she hung up on him.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “You know, actually, I think it was okay. She was steaming mad after, but she didn’t regret cutting him off like that. It’ll be interesting to see what happens in the next couple of days, given they’re booked on the same flight out to London together on Monday night.”

  “You think she’ll still go?”

  “Oh yeah. Says she wouldn’t miss watching me for anything, but I’m curious as to how they’ll be with each other when they meet up at JFK.” Morgan chuckled. “She’s already messaged him and told him she’ll meet him there. She’s not going home first.”

  “Do you think your dad is going to come around?” Adrienne was almost afraid to ask, because as much as she admired Bree Spencer for finally standing up to her sexist husband, she knew what it was like to suddenly lose a relationship you’d relied on for so many years.

  “I honestly don’t know. I mean, I feel like I barely know him after the last few years. We’ve hardly talked. But I do know he loves my mom, and if she keeps pushing him, I think the fear of losing her will be too strong for him not to try to come to terms with her.”

  “Is she going to stay at your place even after you’ve left tonight?”

  “Yeah, I insisted. I think being here has helped her, knowing she can truly relax here. I mean, the Fairmont’s nice, but it’s still a hotel.”

  “Of course. But don’t sell yourself short—being around you, not just in your lovely home, will also help her relax, you know.”

  Morgan’s chuckle was light. “Okay, okay. You might be a little biased, though.”

  Adrienne laughed. “I might.”

  “I…miss you,” Morgan said softly. “And I know we can’t really see each other while I’m playing at Wentworth or in France, but I wish we could.”

  “I know.” Adrienne smiled. She really did feel like a lovesick teenager. “But just think, three more weeks and we can stop hiding from the world.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Are you…are you sure you’ll be okay with not hiding?”

  “Well, to be perfectly honest, I’m not. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t the right thing to do.” Adrienne’s stomach did lurch at the thought of her colleagues and peers knowing she was dating a much younger woman, and a woman she’d met while working on a project. But she also knew she would feel worse if she tried to keep Morgan her dirty little secret.

  “We can wait. And we can make sure news filters out slowly.”

  “I know, and I appreciate what you are saying, but at the end of the day, my fear about it still comes down to how I think I will be perceived by others. And I really should be too old to be concerned about that anymore.”

  “Have you spoken to Tricia?”

  “Ugh, no. That will be my next call.” Adrienne glanced down at her watch. “Hey, what time are you leaving for the airport?”

  Morgan sighed. “In about thirty minutes.”

  “And yet you’re still talking to me.”

  “Hey, I’m all packed. I can see my bags from here. All I have to do is throw on some shoes and a jacket and I’m done. So forgive me if I want to spend as much time talking to you as possible. Trust me, I set up the day precisely so I could do this.”

  “You’re doing it again,” Adrienne said with a smile, her heart full.

  “What?”

  “Being adorable.”

  “Would you rather I was an asshole? Because I could try if it would help.”

  Laughing, Adrienne grabbed the nearest cushion and hugged it close, wishing it was Morgan she held against her. “No, you stay just the way you are, thank you.”

  They filled the rest of their call with talk about Morgan’s practice, her schedule for the week leading up to the British Open at Wentworth, and when they might squeeze in at least a genuine working meeting if nothing else. Coffee on Wednesday morning seemed the only option, but they added it to their calendars anyway, not wishing to pass up even that small opportunity to properly lay eyes on each other.

  “Okay, well, I guess I’d better get going,” Morgan said eventually. “But you should know, I look like a kicked puppy right about now.”

  “It’s true!” a voice called from somewhere.

  Morgan snorted. “That’s my mom. She just walked into the room to say good-bye to me.”

  Adrienne smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then. Safe travels. Message me when you get there, okay?”

  “I will. And I know we won’t speak before you leave tomorrow, so I hope your journey goes well too.”

>   “Thank you.” Okay, you really have to say good-bye now, come on. “Right, go, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  Morgan whimpered, then laughed. “Okay, I’m really going now. Bye.”

  Adrienne hung up and looked around her sterile living room. Nothing about this apartment appealed in the slightest, not like the warmth and welcome of Morgan’s house. As soon as this project is done, I’m moving. She’d thought about it before, just as the project started, but now she absolutely knew she had to. And thinking that brought Tricia to mind, and she knew she needed to make that call now before she chickened out.

  The call went straight to voice mail, so she hung up and messaged instead.

  Hi, hon. Are you around for a call tonight or perhaps breakfast tomorrow before I head off to London?

  Two hours later, just as she was readying herself for an early night, the response came.

  Breakfast! Meet at Vinny’s around 10?

  Even though she was nervous at the thought of telling Tricia what had developed with Morgan, Adrienne replied in the affirmative and lay down to sleep, willing her brain to shut down long enough for her to actually get some shut-eye.

  “Wow, you look amazing!” Tricia exclaimed as she approached the table Adrienne had secured for them beside the window at Vinny’s.

  They hugged, and the embrace plus Tricia’s reaction settled Adrienne’s nerves a little.

  Tricia pulled back and held her at arm’s length, scrutinizing her face. “You just look so…relaxed. How is this possible when you’ve been flying all over the country, working on that film?”

  Adrienne motioned Tricia into the chair opposite hers. “Life is…good,” she offered as a starter.

  “It must be. Let’s order, then you can tell me all about it.”

  Their waitress, a perky twenty-something who was new, took three attempts to get their order right but was so sweet with it neither Adrienne nor, it seemed, Tricia could complain. Once their coffee cups were full, Tricia leaned forward on the table and grinned at Adrienne.