by Lynn Stevens
I wondered if Erik was going to be there. We hadn’t talked since we went to the driving range.
My stomach growled, drawing Mom’s attention. She smirked, and I couldn’t help but smile back. All I had after my workout was a green smoothie I grabbed at Smoothie King. I tried to refocus on the pastor, but my hunger and my thoughts were not with God. They were all over the place. I couldn’t even pin down one long enough to dwell on it. Before I knew it, we were standing for the final hymn.
Mom put her arm around me after we were dismissed. “Hungry?”
“Funny.” I leaned my head on her shoulder for a moment then pulled back. “Want to go to Mia’s? Or maybe The Roasted Pepper?”
Her face paled, but she still smiled. “You have a golf date with your father. Besides, there’s a fridge full of food at home. We’ll make salads.”
A salad sounded like heaven, but we could have gotten one at either of those restaurants. The more I thought about it, the hungrier I became. It took another ten minutes before we broke free of church. Dad had to stop and chat with everyone he could. A few of the men seemed to take off to get out of his way. Weird. Dad was normally chatty, but the men didn’t run from him. Mom smiled and did the same, but it felt like she was killing time.
I pulled out my phone. Two text messages.
Erik: Looks like we’re golfing again today.
Erik: Save me and share the cart?
I laughed under my breath and texted back. Are you bringing the slushies?
Erik: Not classy enough for Willow East. But we can get slushies after.
Erik: If you want to.
I didn’t think twice. Sure.
He responded with a smiling emoji.
When I put my phone down, Mom glanced away quickly. Was she watching me? Crap. She did not need to know I was talking with Erik Perday. Mom wasn’t one hundred percent out of the loop about my falling out with Vicky, but she only knew the bare minimum. And she knew that Erik was not one of my favorite people. Well, he didn’t used to be. Now I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. I just knew I was willing to give him a chance at being a decent person.
My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down as we walked out of the church. It was from Vicky. A stone sunk in my gut. We hadn’t really talked much. After she got out of the hospital, she spent most of her time at her grandmother’s house in the city and with her boyfriend. I waited until we were in the car and my seatbelt was buckled before I opened it.
Vicky: Mom’s back and opening the house this week. Wanna come over and get some pool time?
Me: I have plans today. Maybe later after school?
Vicky: K.
I wanted to respond to her again, but I really didn’t have anything to say. We used to talk about everything all the time. I tossed my phone in the seat and stared at the window, watching the scenery of too large houses and perfectly kept lawns that would rival any golf course. We passed the Westbrook estate, and I saw Vicky’s BMW at the gate. Those texts felt like a pity conversation. Like “you weren’t invited to Rachel’s party, so I guess I’ll invite you to my house” kind of pity. Well, I didn’t need that. Not at all. The only time I’d spent with her was at Rachel’s lakehouse the day before Brendan took off. It had been fun, normal even.
My phone vibrated again, falling onto the floor board.
Vicky: Shop for school supplies later?
I didn’t need anything so maybe Vicky really did want to hang out. I could at least try a little harder to make it up to her.
Me: Sure, after five.
Vicky: Great. I’ll pick you up.
Me: About five. Plans with Dad today.
Vicky: See ya then.
Dad parked, and my parents got out of the car. Neither one of them said a word. Not that they were ever big talkers, but it stuck out today. Dad normally talked everyone’s ears off. Must be something in the air. I climbed out of the backseat and followed them into the house.
“Let me know when lunch is ready,” Dad said as he strolled through the kitchen and straight into the family room.
Mom didn’t respond. She opened the fridge and got out the supplies to make salad. I joined in. We didn’t talk either, but there was something in the air that didn’t feel right. My house always had an underlying tension. This was like we were all walking on a cellophane floors. I kept waiting for them to rip.
I cut the yellow and orange peppers while Mom went outside to the patio and grilled the chicken. Sometimes I missed the charcoal grill we used to have. Dad bought the gas one because everyone had gas, but there wasn’t that sweet smoky smell in the air anymore. Twenty minutes later, we had the food ready. My stomach rumbled like a spring thunderstorm.
“Let your father know, please,” Mom said as she arranged the plates at the kitchen table. Garlic wafted from the chicken. My mouth watered even more.
Dad wasn’t in the family room, which was unusual. Then I heard his voice in the small den toward the back of the house. I leaned closer, but I couldn’t see him.
“Come on, Ben. We’ve known each other for years,” he said behind the cracked door. “We can work through this.”
The only Ben I knew was Dad’s boss. If they were talking on Sunday, then there was trouble at work. That was never good. I didn’t even know what Dad did, just that it was a corporate job that made him a buttload of money. I tapped on the door. He closed it the rest of the way.
Okay then.
Dad’s work issues were his. He could probably straighten it out tomorrow when he got to the office, but history told me Ben didn’t like to wait until Monday. Dad had spent a lot of time on the phone with him over the summer.
I walked back to the kitchen and sat down across from Mom.
“Where’s your father?” Mom asked as she picked up her fork.
“On the phone in the den,” I replied. The salad looked amazing. Fresh grilled chicken with orange and yellow peppers over a bed of spring mix and drizzled with Mom’s perfect green dressing. “This is better than Mia’s.”
Mom laughed. “But not The Roasted Pepper?”
“They literally roast all the peppers on their salads. That’s hard to beat.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
I dug in, savoring the flavors. This would’ve been even better with a marinated tofu or tempeh. I wasn’t a vegetarian, but I didn’t eat a lot of meat. Veggies just tasted better. They were better for me too. I bloated like a balloon if I ate too much dairy or meat.
“Who was your father talking to?” Mom asked before she took a small bite.
“Ben. Again. You would think it could wait until Monday.” I shrugged then dug in again.
Mom’s expression pinched, but she twisted her mouth into a fake smile. “How’s the golfing going?”
“To be honest, I’m not strong enough yet to play a tourney.” I lifted my arm and pointed to my biceps. “Too weak, but I’m working out so I should be okay for the tournament. There won’t be any pros playing.”
“Remember when you were ten and that guy wanted to help you go pro?” Mom stirred her fork around the remaining lettuce. “I forget why you didn’t want to take lessons.”
I wrinkled my eyebrows. “What’re you talking about? I don’t remember that.”
“We were at that public course in South County, remember? He approached your father and ...” Her face went from confused to furious in ten seconds. “Brent said he talked to you about it, but you weren’t interested.”
I shook my head slowly. “Someone thought I could go pro?”
Mom pressed her lips together and inhaled a long breath through her nose. She pushed it out through her mouth. “Yes. He said you were a natural. You father didn’t say a word to you, did he?””
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” I asked softly. My entire body sunk into the chair. It wasn’t long after that when I stopped golfing with my family. Even Mom stopped going, but she never really enjoyed it. I kept playing public courses when I could, but not every we
ekend. I’d hit driving rages outside of Hillsdale, too. “I ... I think I would’ve liked that.”
“I don’t know, baby,” Mom reached out and put her hand over mine. “You can still do it, if you want. We’ll find a coach and figure out what we need to do.”
I just nodded slowly. My father never told me about that. He sunk me before I had a chance to sink myself. But it was my life, my choice. At ten, I would’ve valued his opinion and asked what I should’ve done. He didn’t give me that chance. He didn’t give me a chance at anything. Tears filled my eyes, but I wasn’t going to let them fall.
Why did he hate me so much?
“Andrea, I need to tell you something else—”
“Salad? Nothing more?” Dad said as he strolled in the kitchen. He sat at the table and sneered at the large plate. “I could use a hamburger.”
I expected Mom to say something about the golf pro, but she did a complete one-eighty.
“Brent, you’re going to have to deal without me for the next week.” Mom wiped her hands on her napkin and tossed it on top of the salad. “I need a break and made an appointment at a spa in Nevada.”
What? That didn’t make any sense. I mean, yeah, Mom probably did need a break but to drop the bomb about my lack of golf career then to drop the nuclear straight after that, I was totally confused. Dad looked just as perplexed as I felt.
“When did you decide this?” he asked slowly. He must’ve known he was walking on eggshells. Or glass.
“When my son took everything he owned because he can’t live here anymore.” Mom stood and walked to my side of the table. She put her hand on my shoulder then leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I’ll fix this. I promise. Just give me some time.”
“When are you leaving?” Dad asked, his voice colder than ice.
Mom made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “My car will be here in less than five minutes.”
“What?” I screeched.
Mom didn’t even look at me. She stared Dad down. He finally just nodded. What else could he do? Mom was going whether either one of us liked it or not.
The real question was when would she be back?
Chapter Eight
Dad and Mr. Perday were not interested in riding together. Both of them preferred to drive their own cart in total silence with us. Dad didn’t say a word to me unless it was to correct my swing, which needed so much work he didn’t think we’d be good enough to win the trophy much less place in the tournament. I ignored him and suspected Erik had to deal with the same criticism. Erik and I were left to casual conversation that could’ve easily be overheard on the course.
Until the eleventh hole. It was a par three. Our balls landed on the green while both of our fathers had shanked their balls into sand traps on the opposite sides of the hole. It had been so hard not to laugh at my father when his ball soared to the left. Erik had the same issue when his dad’s drive went way right.
“Andrea, do you want to walk?” Erik said loudly after setting his golf bag in the back of his cart.
I wrinkled my eyebrows and walked past him toward Dad’s cart.
“It’s not that far to our balls,” he added again quite loudly.
I glanced at him and he bobbed his head around as if there was some secret message. Then it hit me. Of course it was a secret message. He wanted to get away from his dad as much as I wanted to get away from mine. I nodded.
“If that’s okay with you,” I said to Dad. He just waved me off with a scowl and got into the cart. Erik’s dad followed him was in just as good of a move when his engine whirled to live and he drove off after him. “Sorry, I was replaying my drive.”
“Your drive was perfect. Why replay it?” Erik took off his golf gloves and shoved them into the pockets of his white shorts. Everything about him was sunny, the pale yellow shirt and white shoes along with the shorts. Erik looked brighter. He even smelled brighter with a cologne that hinted at lemon but wasn’t overpowering.
I shrugged and glanced down at my outfit. I’d gone with a simple red skort and a sleeveless white polo. “There’s always room for improvement, I guess.”
He nodded. “Ready for tomorrow?”
“Not even,” I snorted as we stepped off the path for a cart to pass us.
“I’m torn,” he said, his hand shoved deep into his pockets. “Senior year and all that, but I don’t really want to see anybody after the way this summer played out.”
He meant with Vicky. She ruined his reputation before almost irreparably. Erik had never been the same since. He’d been... well, not that guy I had gotten to know recently. This year would probably be miserable for me, too, considering the whole Theo incident.
“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.” He stopped and faced me. “I get it. You’re her best friend. Talking to me might be the total death of your senior year.”
I reached out and touched his arm. “They can get over it.”
Erik’s hand slid out of his pocket, and my fingers drifted toward his. He turned his hand over, squeezing my fingers gently before letting them go. It was so brief and so intense. Why did I do that? Erik was supposed to be my mortal enemy. But he was my friend too. And I liked how his fingers felt against mine. A lot. My mind swirled around everything and landed on nothing.
“No, they won’t,” he said, turning back toward the path. “You and I both know that Vicky’s memory is long and her hatred unwavering. I’m not worth it. We can be after school friends or something.”
It took me too long to respond, because we were at the green where both of our fathers were putting. Erik practically ran from me. He had his putter out and was walking toward his ball by the time I grabbed mine. I waited and watched as it took two putts for him to par.
He was right though. My reputation would be down the drain if people saw me with him. Was it worth it though? At this point, I wasn’t sure if my reputation meant anything. I was Victoria Hudson’s best friend. That was my reputation. And, quite frankly, how she hadn’t destroyed me after my idiocy with Theo in Europe was still a mystery. I was going with her own guilt for falling in love with Daniel while her boyfriend was out of the country. Still, if I was seen with Erik, Vicky’s true enemy, then I would become less. I just wasn’t sure if I cared.
I shook my head and cleared my thoughts. It was time to sink this putt. I settled over the ball and checked the green. It was a slight downhill slope with a swerve to the left. I lined up, inhaled and gently hit my ball. It rolled in a curve before sliding down into the hole.
“Nice, one under par,” Erik said with a genuine smile. My grin spread quicker.
“It’s a par three. Not that hard,” Dad said with a huff, frowning at me as if I was doing some witchy mojo on my game. “Get in, Andrea. Let’s get to the next hole. We don’t have time to dwaddle.”
Erik’s eyebrows slammed together. His face turned red and his lips formed a thin line. “If it’s so easy, why didn’t you do it?”
Oh shit.
Dad turned slowly, but Erik’s anger was already exploding and my dad was the target. “She’s kicking all our asses. You’re four strokes behind her. Why not just tell her good job instead of insulting her all the damn time?”
“That’s enough, Erik,” his dad said with deathly calm.
Double oh shit. I was frozen to the spot, unable to even think anything else.
“Fuck that,” Erik snapped, his fist clenched tight at his side. “He’s all self-righteous and superior but he can’t even beat a seventeen-year-old on a par three. I’m a stroke ahead of him. And I hate golf.”
Erik’s dad turned to mine. “We’re going to have to cut this short today, Brent. We’ll see you at the tournament.” He turned toward Erik. “Get in the cart, boy. Now.”
I stepped toward him, but Erik sneered at me. Like this was my fault. I didn’t tell him to go off on my father, even though I enjoyed every second of it to a degree. Erik didn’t need to get in trouble for me. My dad was a sexist pig. I had a feel
ing Erik’s was just as bad.
“Jesus, Andrea, stand up for yourself for once in your damn life,” he growled before climbing into the cart without looking back.
I watched them disappear toward the clubhouse. Tears rimmed my eyes. That was the guy who everyone knew. Who everyone hated. How could I forget that side of him? Right, because I let the other side, the nice side charm me.
“Let’s go, Andrea,” Dad said, irritation clear in his voice. “We can still finish the course.”
Great, seven more holes with my father. Not how I wanted this day to end.
Chapter Nine
I put in my code and the gate unlocked. First day of school, joy. First day of senior year, and I didn’t even care. I glanced down at my uniform, the same thing I’d worn for the last three years. Xavier Academy loved uniformity. Even our hair had to be natural.
My phone dinged.
I hadn’t heard from Erik after yesterday’s disastrous game. Dad was silent for the rest of the course, rushing to get through it as fast as he could without sacrificing his handicap. He didn't care if I sacrificed mine, but I ended up two under par. Needless to say, I beat him. When we got home, he went to his study and closed the door. I went to my room and spent an hour doing yoga. Except for dinner, our paths didn’t cross and I was okay with that.
My backpack was heavy. I lugged it out of the passenger seat and grabbed my cell from the front pocket.
Erik: Sorry.
Me: You have nothing to be sorry for. Thank you. For standing up to him. I’m sorry if you got into trouble with your dad.
Erik: Nothing I haven’t been through before.
Erik: I’m sorry I yelled at you though. You didn’t deserve it.
I smiled and started to respond when he sent another text.
Erik: Are you doing anything after school Friday? Maybe we can go to the driving range. If you want.
Me: Totally. I’ll meet you there.
“Andrea! There you are,” Vicky shouted behind me.
She was arm in arm with Rachel. Vicky whisper something to her new bestie, and she laughed. They shared a knowing grin, the kind that they want you to know they know but they don’t want you to know what they know. My heart sunk a little. Clearly, I’d been replaced.
