by Susan Wiggs
Red grinned and his eyes sparkled. “I’ve got news,” he said. “Big news.” He held out a familiar-looking legal-length set of papers, stapled together.
Sean frowned as he took them. “You’re setting me up with a sponsor? I’m not even playing.”
Red grinned. “You will be. Am I good or what?”
Just for a moment, Sean’s hopes soared. This was what he was truly about, playing a game that had given his life its shape and meaning. A sponsor meant somebody believed in you.
“Wonder Bread?” he asked, his hopes heading back toward earth. Not Nike or Chevrolet, but Wonder Bread. “Is this a joke?” he asked.
“Hey, don’t knock it. I stuck my neck out to get this. They’re prepared to back you in a major tournament. You won’t need your PGA card because they bought you an exemption, Sean.”
His stomach flip-flopped. It was a huge gesture. When a player didn’t qualify for a tournament through the usual channels, a sponsor had the power to buy him a spot in the game. It often meant a vanity entry for someone who could never qualify on his own. But sometimes, every once in a while, it was a way to give a long shot a chance.
“What tournament?”
“The Colonial Championship in Pinehurst, North Carolina. There’s a million dollars at stake.”
Sean felt a lurch of excitement. Then he ground it out and lay the contract on the coffee table. “I have to turn this down, Red.”
The agent laughed loudly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just heard something hilarious. I heard you turn down a lucrative sponsorship and a shot at the majors.”
“You heard right.”
“I heard bullshit. I put my damned reputation on the line to get you this deal. What am I supposed to do now, tell the sponsor their dog won’t hunt?” He took out a cigar and a lighter.
“You can’t smoke in the house, Red,” Sean told him.
“Well, excuse me, Sister Mary Maguire.”
“Hey, I’m looking out for the kids. That’s what this is about, Red. The kids. I can’t take off for a tournament now that I’m in charge of three kids.” Something struck him as he said it. He wouldn’t want to take off. He’d miss them too much.
“Don’t do this, Sean. You need this deal. Derek made a ton of money, and they spent a ton and a half. After probate, you get nothing but a mortgage on this house.”
Sean felt an acid discomfort in his gut, the one that had been keeping him awake at night. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“Well, fiddle-dee-dee, Miz Scarlett. You need to make a living. I’m offering you a way to do that. You’d better think twice before turning this deal down.”
“I’m thinking,” he said.
“Sit down, Sean,” Red said. “Read the damned contract.”
“I’ve seen contracts before.” He probably still had a couple of them as keepsakes. A six-figure deal with Bausch & Lomb, a Banc One contract with bonus escalators based on his performance. He kept them around to remind himself that he used to be somebody in this game, somebody other than a disgrace. “Red, thanks for trying, but my life is complicated now. It’s the wrong time to start playing golf again. I’ve got Derek’s kids to think of.”
“You think I didn’t consider Derek’s kids? What the hell do you take me for, anyway?”
Sean didn’t think he wanted an answer so he waited for him to go on.
“I saw your face when you saw it was Wonder Bread. They’re sponsoring all of you, Sean. It’s a package deal. You and all three kids, get it? You’re the new family-man icon in golf.”
Sean looked around the cluttered room. Kids’ toys and schoolbooks, dishes someone forgot to carry into the kitchen, mail and newspapers lying around. Suzy Homemaker he was not. “You’re shitting me.”
Red spread a magazine article on the coffee table in front of him. “This is last month’s Sports Illustrated. My PR manager got it in.”
Sean’s stomach twisted. There was a boxed feature on Derek’s funeral, with a shot of Sean standing with Ashley in his arms, Charlie and Cameron flanking him. They had that slicked-down, chastened look of lost children, and the photo was a heartbreaker. He’d seen the article when it first came out, then stuffed the magazine away somewhere. “Gee, Red. I could have gone all day without seeing that.”
“Shut up, Sean. You’ve captured the imagination of sports fans, and it’s crossing over. People are in love with your story. The bachelor uncle and three orphans.”
Sean was all too well aware of that. Since the funeral, offers from scary, desperate women had flooded in. He’d had to change his e-mail account, get a post office box. He never knew if a package from a stranger might contain a proposal couched in Bible verses or a pair of split-crotch panties.
“It gives people something,” Red went on. “Hope, belief that families matter. This is powerful stuff and it’s opening a door for you, Sean.”
He had the urge to jump around with excitement, but at the same time, reason prevailed. “I’m not doing it, Red. Going on the road like the frigging Partridge Family? No, thanks. I can’t exploit my brother’s death and these kids’ lives in order to sell more Wonder Bread.”
“Then you’re an idiot. You’re pissing away an opportunity that won’t knock twice.”
chapter 35
“I was hoping you wouldn’t pick up,” Lily’s mother said on the phone.
Lily tightened her grip on the receiver, tensing up as she always did around her mother. “Then why did you call?”
“To see if you were sitting at home and stewing even though it’s a Friday night. Apparently, you are.” Sharon didn’t speak unkindly, but matter-of-factly.
“What does it matter to you, Mom?” Lily asked.
“What a question,” she said. “Summer will be here before you know it and you’ll be off to Italy.”
Lily stayed silent. Eventually, she’d tell her mother she’d canceled the trip, but she didn’t like talking about it. The fact that she’d changed her plans naturally brought up questions about her motivation, questions she didn’t want to answer.
“I think it’s time you got back to your own life,” her mother said. “You should do something you’d normally do on a Friday night.”
“It’s funny, I can scarcely remember what that is.”
“Nonsense,” her mother said. “You went out with friends from work. Sometimes you had a date. I always liked that gym coach….”
“Everyone likes Greg,” Lily said. “He’s the world’s biggest flirt.”
“So call him up. Flirt a little. I mean it, Lily. You can’t keep hiding away, worrying about Crystal’s family. You have your own life to lead.”
Lily looked around her simple, tastefully decorated and orderly house. Her mother had a point. She did have a life of her own, except lately she had trouble remembering what that felt like. She spent so much time with Crystal’s kids—after school, Saturday mornings, Sunday afternoons—that being with them was starting to feel more like her life than…whatever it was she’d had before.
She made herself take an inventory of that, to remind herself of the things she valued. Solitude and order. Excellence in her job, intellectual curiosity, the occasional company of friends. Since Crystal’s death, all of that had fallen by the wayside.
“I can’t,” she admitted to her mother. “My life is completely different now. I’m in this weird limbo where I’m not in charge of Crystal’s kids but I don’t feel right leaving, either.”
“Nonsense,” her mother said again. Then a sigh slipped through the receiver. “You’ve done such a beautiful job with your life, Lily. Don’t mess it up now over someone else’s family.”
“God, Mom—”
“I’m speaking out of compassion for those children. It’s cruel to make them dependent on you when they can never really belong to you.”
Lily winced. Did her mother know how much this hurt or did she think she was being helpful?
“Their uncle could decide to move and t
hen what will you do? Follow them around the country as what? Their unpaid nanny?”
“What do you do, lie awake at night and think up things to worry about?” Lily asked with a humorless, incredulous laugh. It struck her that at the conference with Sean, those very same concerns had come out. Which meant Lily was more like her mother than she cared to admit.
“You were always the one I didn’t have to worry about,” her mother said. “You were the reliable, levelheaded one. You of all people should know that when a tragedy happens, it’s best to move on as quickly as possible.”
Lily wondered if her mother was speaking ironically. In twenty-six years, she had never moved on from losing Evan. “You know what, Mom,” she said with false brightness. “You’re right. I should call someone and go out tonight.”
She sat there with the phone in her hand for a long time. Then, finally, she stabbed in the number before she chickened out.
“It’s Lily Robinson,” she said. “Would you like to go to a movie tonight?”
Fulfilling the terms of Crystal’s will was a bittersweet exercise. In accordance with her friend’s wishes, Lily had helped herself to some of the beautiful clothes Crystal had left behind. Wearing an outfit that made her feel quite dashing, she drove to the Echo Ridge Pavilion in her Volkswagen Beetle. He was already there, waiting for her. She felt him checking out her red cap-sleeved dress and shoes, a red-and-white polka-dot scarf tied to the strap of her red purse.
“Wow,” said Greg Duncan. “Am I ever glad you called.”
“Me, too,” she said, feeling both self-conscious and sexy in the outfit. She wanted to tell him how it felt to wear something that used to belong to Crystal. She wanted to tell him how much she missed her best friend, but that wasn’t the sort of conversation to have with a guy like Greg.
“What’s playing at the Pavilion?” he asked, holding the door for her.
She stopped to consult the marquee overhead. The choices were action-adventure, romantic comedy, an art film and a children’s flick. Naturally, he chose the action-adventure flick, which featured Vin Diesel and a lot of car wrecks. At least she got to look at Vin for ninety-six minutes, so that was something.
Afterward, they went to a crowded café adjacent to the multiplex. Lily toyed with the polka-dot scarf. “So do you have plans for the summer?” she asked him.
“You bet,” he said. “I’ve decided to qualify for Paradise Ridge. There are spots for local amateurs in the tournament. It’s going to mean training all summer until the tournament over Labor Day. There’s a place in British Columbia where I can work with the best in the game. It’s pretty pie-in-the-sky, but I want to go for it. It’s time. I’ve got no family ties, nothing holding me back.”
She flashed on a thought of his phantom kids, but said nothing.
“If I do all right at Paradise Ridge, I’m going to Q School,” he said.
“That’s wonderful, Greg. I bet you’ll get your PGA card the first try.” She saluted him with her cup of mimosa iced tea.
“I’m impressed that you’ve even heard of Q School.”
“Don’t sectionals take place in the fall? How are you going to juggle it with teaching?” she asked.
“Between you and me,” he said, “I’ll be requesting a sabbatical.”
Lily reflected that she and Greg used to have a lot in common—they were both young and single, free of all obligations. Now he seemed like a stranger to her, a sort of pleasant stranger. Lily recalled that Crystal had never agreed with that. Back in February, when Lily had mentioned she’d gone on a date with Greg, Crystal had told her to steer clear of him. “He’s a player,” she’d said. “He has no sense of loyalty. I’ve known him for years, as Cameron’s coach, and I know he’s not a sincere guy.”
When Lily had pointed out that she wasn’t looking for sincerity, but just someone to go out with now and then, Crystal had thrown up her hands. “You make me crazy, Lily. One of these days you’re going to fall flat on your face for some guy. Just make sure it’s not Greg.”
In the parking lot, they stood between her Beetle and his Trans-Am, and he slid his arm around her waist. Lily was startled; he’d never come on to her before. He bent down and kissed her. She tried to kiss him back, but all she could think about was how awkward this seemed, how inappropriate. Pushing against him, she said, “Greg—”
He pulled back and looked down at her. “Don’t say it. You’re not into this. You’re a thousand miles away.”
That’s where I need to be, she thought. Away.
Lily returned home in defeat. The date was supposed to reaffirm her belief that the single life was tailor-made for her, that she could enjoy a man’s company without worrying about a Relationship with a capital R.
She parked her Volkswagen and walked dejectedly toward the door. As she passed the dark, ugly Winnebago, she had dark, ugly thoughts about her sister. “A few days” was turning into a few weeks. Finally, Violet admitted that they were going to have to sell the RV and promised to see to it right away, but nothing had happened yet. Lily suspected the market was crowded with used RVs.
As she found her house key, a shadow moved on the back steps. Lily gasped, too startled to scream.
“It’s me. I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear.” Cameron stepped into the pale glow cast by the porch light. He wore jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, a backpack with reflective tape on the back. His bicycle leaned against the house.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Is something wrong? Does your uncle know you’re here?”
“Nothing is wrong and he doesn’t know. I sneaked out.”
“You know better than that,” she said, pushing open the door and turning on the kitchen light. “I’m calling him immediately.”
“Don’t.” Cameron’s voice was sharp with urgency. “At least listen to what I came to say. Please.”
She studied him, this boy she had known all his life. He was, and always had been, amazing to look at. The girls were adorable, of course, yet Cameron had the truly classic beauty of his mother and the graceful athleticism of his father. He had Crystal’s fine features and vivid coloring, and Derek’s intensity. His appearance seemed to set him apart from the rest of humanity, as though he was a storybook prince about to leave on a quest.
He took off the backpack. “We need your help,” he said.
“We, as in…?”
“Me and Charlie and Ashley. See, it’s about Uncle Sean.”
Oh, God. Lily braced herself. She’d thought he was doing a good job, but now terrible possibilities flipped through her mind.
“Don’t look so worried,” Cameron said. “It’s nothing bad.”
“Sorry.” She motioned him inside. “I didn’t realize I was so transparent. So what’s up?”
“Red Corliss got Uncle Sean a sponsorship for a tournament. It’s a big deal, Lily. Huge. It means good money and the chance to get his career back. It’s a good deal for all of us.”
She nodded. She and Sean had not whitewashed the truth about the family finances. Cameron understood that there were complications.
“So this is good news, right?”
“The best,” Cameron agreed. “Except that Uncle Sean turned the deal down.”
“Why would he do that?”
Cameron looked annoyed. “It’s idiotic. He’s all worried because the sponsor wants us in the picture.”
“You and your sisters?”
“Yep. It’s Wonder Bread.”
“The sponsor?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s not Chevrolet, but it’s a sponsor. And anyway, they’re marketing to people who want to believe Uncle Sean is the New Male, a family man.”
Lily felt a tickle of inappropriate humor in the back of her throat. “New Male.”
“Did you know he’s been approached by a bachelor TV show?”
“You’re kidding.”
He shuddered. “Nope. Luckily he turned that down. But he needs to take this offer because it’s all about golf.
”
“What’s stopping him?”
“He thinks it’s exploiting us kids.”
“Is it?”
“We wear the hats and shirts to the games, we eat the sandwiches. Big deal.”
“Tell me about this tournament.”
“That’s the other thing. It’s not just the one tournament. He’ll need to play all summer.”
“How far out of town?”
“The big one, with the big payoff, is in Pinehurst. That’s in North Carolina.”
“That’s pretty far.”
“My dad used to fly all over the place for tournaments.”
“And your mom looked after you and the girls. Your uncle doesn’t have that.”
“No,” Cameron agreed. “But he has you.”
Lily let out a startled laughed. “Cameron, you know I love you and the girls, but I can’t stay behind and babysit—”
“I didn’t mean you’d stay behind. You could come along, you know, so he wouldn’t worry about us when he’s supposed to be thinking about his game.”
“Oh, Cameron. Do you hear what you’re saying? This summer is supposed to be a time for you and your sisters to build a life in a new situation. It’s the work you’re supposed to be doing. And now suddenly this is all about Sean and his game.”
“But—”
“No wonder he’s rejecting the offer.”
“You’re wrong. It’s about all of us,” Cameron said fiercely. “Me and Sean and the girls and maybe even you. This is not just a game. It’s a chance to change everything.”
“By focusing on Sean.”
“By focusing on something besides my dead parents for a change,” Cameron snapped. “What about that, Lily?”
“I can’t disagree with that,” she said tentatively.
“I’m sick of being sad about my mom and dad,” he said. “Sick of worrying about what’s going to happen to us. The girls are, too. They’re just too little to say so.”
Lily’s throat heated with tears. His anguish touched her, and so did this new maturity she saw in him.