He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Honey, I promise everything will be all right. I’ll tell you the truth about whatever is upsetting you.”
She nodded.
“Can I make you some coffee or tea?”
“Tea, please.”
Dad disappeared into the bathroom, and she wiped her nose for the umpteenth time.
The desk lamp lit the book tented on the opposite couch arm. Another thriller by the looks of the cover. Dad’s travel mug rested on the desk. Steam curlicues rose from it and filled the room with coffee aroma. Boy, was she killing his peaceful evening.
Dad returned and placed a foam cup of tea on the end table beside her. He settled into his spot on the short couch, crossed his legs, and waited.
Allie forced her clasped hands in her lap to relax. “For a while, you’ve wanted to tell me something.” Her knuckles were already white again. “I’m pretty sure it’s about Mom.”
In a heartbeat, Dad looked ten years older. What could he tell her that would affect him so severely? “Dad, you don’t have to—”
“Yes. I do. Ever since you came home, I’ve wanted to tell you the truth about your mom. I think it’s time.”
Mom was Mom. What truth could there be? Fear heated her face and body. Did she want to hear something bad about Mom?
“The truth is, I gladly left my golf career when you were six…” He ran his hand down his face. “I think I better start at the beginning.”
She nodded and swallowed.
“I received a scholarship from the University of South Florida, got my foot in the door on the PGA tour, and was doing well. Your mom, my young bride, didn’t care to follow me on tour and disliked living as a golf widow. She was having a hard time getting pregnant, and my being gone all the time on the PGA tour didn’t help. Then you came along. But I missed all your firsts, and it upset her. Your first tooth, the first time you sat, your first step.”
Dad eyed her as if he was considering whether he should continue. “When you were about six, your mom went through a period of depression. I felt powerless to help her, especially when I was halfway across the country or overseas, so I started looking into a different career. About that time, Steve’s wife left him with three young ones. I didn’t want something like that to happen to me. That’s when I decided you and your mom were more important than golf.” Dad angled his head toward her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always loved golf, but I loved your mom and you more.”
Dad quit golf because of Mom’s depression? Mom depressed? Mom disliking Dad’s golf career? That didn’t sound like Mom at all. The noise in Allie’s head seemed like the ceiling was crashing to the floor. Whose body had she been living in all her life?
And Steve. “Steve, as in Steve Leonard, was part of your decision?”
“Yes. Steve had a rough time trying to play on the PGA and take on the role of mother and father.”
He lifted his cup and took a sip. He made a sour face and prepared to rise. “Do you want me to nuke your tea too?”
“Dad! Finish the story first.”
“OK. OK.” He sank back onto the couch and returned his mug to the end table.
“Wait a minute. Why did you return to the PGA when I was fourteen?”
He raised a calming hand. “I’ll get to that. And to why guilt ended my golf career again after my comeback when you were sixteen—not your mom’s death.”
More than grief caused Dad to shut down and quit? What could he possibly be guilty of? Did Dad have something to do with Mom’s car accident? “Go on.”
“At a friend’s invitation, Mom started attending church and joined a Bible study. You were about seven then. She became gentler, calmer, and more confident. She joined the church and professed her faith. She always seemed to have a certain joy about her after that. She asked me to forgive her for pushing me away from my golf career. She said she’d support me if I returned to the PGA.”
“When I was seven? I don’t remember you trying to get back into the game then.”
“I didn’t. I liked being home. I enjoyed building my financial planning company. When I had time, I played golf for recreation. Then, in your early teens, Mom got it into her head again that I should return to the tour. She went overboard, pushing me to make a comeback.”
“And you did. I was so proud of you.”
“She was too, but the truth is, Allie…” He reached over and grasped her hand. “Your mom had cancer, and she didn’t tell me.” Dad pressed his trembling lips together.
The blood drained from Allie’s head. She tried to remember conversations with Mom. Nothing surfaced that would have given her a clue about cancer. But how could she not have known?
Dad studied her. “Are you OK?”
“Keep going.” No matter how devastating it was. She had to know.
Dad hesitated, then released her hand and went on. “It took me a long time to realize that your mom knew she had cancer and wanted you and me to bond in golf. She wanted me to do what I loved, with her blessing. She wanted to leave this life knowing you and I would be together where we were most happy. On the golf course.”
“Oh, Dad.” Allie closed her eyes.
“I didn’t find out about the cancer until after her accident. It was easy for her to hide it from us when we were gone so much on tour. After the accident, I came across her medical Explanation of Benefit forms. I couldn’t believe what I saw. I went to her doctor, who confirmed the cancer. That’s what broke my heart, Allie. She’d been dealing with cancer all alone.”
Allie covered her mouth with her hand as the tears flowed. After a moment, she wiped her eyes and dropped her hand to her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could’ve—”
“I couldn’t tell you…” Dad’s voice broke. “I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d feel guilty too. But the truth devastated me. I accepted Mae’s offer to take you home with her for a while. I threw myself into my company, day and night. Work was the only thing that kept me going. It kept me from thinking about how I’d let my loving wife down. Then when Mae said it was time for you to come home, that you and I needed each other, I put her off until she stopped calling.”
Dad had wanted to protect her. At least, at first. “Did Aunt Mae know?”
He wiped wetness from his eyes. “No. Wrong or right, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, either.”
Allie handed him a tissue.
He blew his nose. “Of course, none of what happened with us after her accident was in your mom’s plan. She desired the best for us. I found a manila folder among her private things labeled ‘Letters to Mill and Allie.’ It was empty. The accident happened before she had time to finish her plan.”
A letter from Mom would be better than winning a ten-million-dollar lottery. “Are you sure? Maybe she wrote them and hadn’t put them in the folder yet.”
“I looked everywhere, honey.” He took her hand and squeezed. “But I think she’d be happy that we’re back on the links together.” He chuckled. “I know she’d be happy that I’m following Christ. I have Karen to thank for helping me fulfill that part of Mom’s hopes.”
Allie half-listened as Dad went on about how Karen had waited for him to accept Christ before she’d agreed to marry him.
So, Mom’s cancer was why Mom gave her the cross on her sixteenth birthday, and why she’d reiterated God’s salvation plan through Jesus’ death on the cross. Mom was dying, and she wanted Allie saved from her sins. But Allie had turned her back on Jesus.
Allie wiped new tears on the soggy tissue and then grabbed a fresh one. She had to know one more thing.
“Do you think Mom purposely caused the accident with the tree?”
Dad shook his head. “No. Her faith was stronger than that. The police report was clear that her tire blew and she lost control of the car. A junk truck must have dribbled its load, because nails and metal scraps peppered the pavement. Besides, she would have written her letters to us before committing suicide.”
&
nbsp; Allie let out a breath. “I’m sad, but I’m glad you told me everything, Dad. I understand things so much better now—about you and about Mom.”
“I wanted you to know how much she loved you, Allie.”
“It’ll take awhile for all you told me to sink in, but I’m proud of Mom.”
“You have every right to be proud. She was a courageous and loving woman.”
Yeah. So unlike herself. “Oh no!” She pulled her hand from his grasp and scrambled to her feet. “I’ve messed up with Shoo. May I have the keys to the car?”
“Can’t you talk to him tomorrow?” Dad checked his watch. “Or call him? It’s late.”
“I know, but he’s leaving tomorrow, and I need to make things right. Face to face. If I call him he’ll tell me not to come over.” She swallowed. “You know my overzealousness?”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“I blew Shoo off because I was feeling confused, sad, and sorry for myself.”
She hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Mom, but she could at least tell Shoo. He deserved better than a brushoff.
Dad grabbed the car keys from the desk. “Allie, I don’t know how to say this. Karen’s so much better at this than I am.” He faced her. “But I know your mom would want me to give you this advice.” He dangled the keys. “Jesus is the answer, honey.”
She snatched the keys and headed for the door. “I think you’re right.”
~*~
Allie entered Shoo’s street name into the GPS. She shifted her gaze to the dashboard clock. Almost ten. What were the chances Shoo would still be up?
As she drove, the twisted knot in her stomach ached. If only she could fly above the eucalyptus trees and arrive there faster.
She’d aimed quick judgments at Shoo too many times. Like when she’d hated him for stuffing her in a locker. And when she’d falsely questioned his part in Dad’s win. And when she’d accused him of standing her up with hot-pink Margie. And how about when she’d told him he understood nothing about relationships? And now, after listening to Dad and Mom’s story, she finally got where Steve Leonard was coming from. He loved his family, but he hadn’t sacrificed his career as her Dad had. Steve felt guilty and didn’t want Shoo to feel that way.
The last thing she wanted was for Shoo to feel obligated to call her and keep the friendship going because he believed that’s what she wanted. Steve was right. Shoo needed to concentrate on his game.
When he’d dropped her off, she’d treated her best friend like an acquaintance. He deserved a best friend’s proper goodbye.
She could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. A pain, like heartburn, radiated through her chest. She straightened to take pressure off her ribcage, but the discomfort persisted.
A heart attack would serve her right. She’d really botched things.
Allie gripped the steering wheel. “Jesus, I’m tired of messing everything up. Please forgive me for all the times I’ve overzealously acted or misjudged people. Would You help me change? I need You.”
The knot in her stomach relaxed and breathing became easier. Could Jesus work that fast?
Something inside her buzzed like a Taser set on extra low. Slowly, the inner vibration lessened, and all that was left was her slow heart rate and an empty mind.
“Wow,” she whispered. “Jesus, I don’t understand what that was, but I felt as if You were saying You accept me.”
Tears streamed, and she alternated hands on the steering wheel in wiping the wetness away. “I’ve ignored You for so long. I’m not worth that kind of mercy, but thank You.”
Allie unbuttoned the two top buttons of her blouse and reached inside for her cross. She pressed it to her lips, buttoned her blouse, and laid the cross against the pink fabric. Then she spent the drive telling Jesus every wrong thing she’d done that she could remember.
When her confessions reached tonight’s fiasco, Steve’s list of what Shoo must do to succeed in the PGA replayed. What she had to do became clear. If she could stay this calm, she could do it.
Shoo’s house was dark. Allie’s heart sank. “Jesus, I think You know everything. You wouldn’t have given me peace about what I need to do if You didn’t want me to do it, right?” She killed the lights and pulled into Shoo’s driveway.
Allie sat in the car, searching her body for clues from Jesus that she was taking the wrong course. No tension squeezed her neck. No tightness grabbed her gut. Jesus’ peace was still with her.
She got out of the car.
Under the garage sconce that lit the driveway, she gazed at Shoo’s window, then grabbed a stone from the rock garden beside the garage. It was the size of an egg. She’d come to make peace, not break his window. Pawing through the stones, she found a pebble. She stepped away from the house and tossed it at the glass.
Ping!
She’d heard it, but had he? Maybe a bigger pebble. Back at the rock garden, she squatted. Screech. The window above her rose. She pushed to her feet and rushed to where she’d thrown the pebble.
“Shoo!” Hopefully her loud whisper whooshed all the way to her target.
Shoo stuck his head outside the window and looked down at her.
“Allie?” He hadn’t bothered to whisper.
She put her finger to her lips. No need to cause windows to open across the house. She waved him to come down.
He closed the window. It clunked hard against the sill. Unforgiving.
Oh, Jesus.
The porch light came on, and the front door opened. Shoo, his hair forked in all directions, stepped onto the porch.
Thank you, Jesus.
The calming peace was back, minus the wonderful buzzing.
Barefoot, Shoo wore a white T-shirt and jeans. He was the handsomest man in the whole world.
He pushed his hands into his front pockets and descended the porch steps. “Why’d you rush off like that?”
“I’m sorry. I was only thinking of myself. Forgive me?”
“Yes.” He looked at the rental car. “I almost called you.”
“But you weren’t ready to forgive me?”
“I guess not. Not a good sign for the Liddell of golf. Right?”
“It’s a sign you’re human.”
“And why I need a Savior.”
Her arms and shoulders felt loose. Weird. She’d be mistaken for dead if she were any calmer. “Thank You, Jesus.”
Shoo’s eyebrows rose, and he leaned toward her. “What’d you say?”
Had she thanked Jesus aloud? Well, good.
“On the way over, I asked Jesus to…well, let’s just say a wise woman once knew that in order to live in peace, I needed Jesus. She gave me a cross to remind me, but tonight was the first time I realized I can’t handle life on my own without stumbling and distrusting and regretting, so I asked Jesus to take over.”
“Awesome!”
The corners of her lips crept upward. “Yeah.” For the first time, the word awesome was spot on.
He pulled his hands from his pockets. “Do you know what that means?”
“I get to see Mom and Jesus when I die.” She’d never talked so calmly in her life.
“Yes. You’ll see them.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so happy to hear your good news.”
“Yeah.” Oh, man. If only she could stay in his arms forever. She extracted herself and stepped back. “But I didn’t come here to tell you that.”
His smile faded, and his hands found his pockets again. “OK. I’m listening.”
She spread her hands. “I’m sorry for how I’ve judged your father, Shoo. I know now he’s nothing like I believed. Dad set me straight on that.”
His smile widened. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Please forgive me for prejudging you and your father. For pushing you in your career.” She paused. “Let me rephrase that. I do want you to succeed, but only because God seems to be guiding you that way.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Truth?”
/> “OK. I think.”
“I’ve never seen you so relaxed.”
“It’s kind of nice.”
He peered as if he was trying to focus in the dim light from the porch. “Is that your cross I see?”
She touched the pendant and nodded. Jesus, now comes the really sad part. Please don’t leave me. “Thanks for understanding and forgiving me. I wish you the best—”
He lifted his hand. “Whoa. No goodbyes yet. I’m coming over to workout and run with you tomorrow. My flight’s not until four. So, I’ll be at your motel at six a.m.”
“You don’t have to do that. You need to spend time with your family.”
“They’re meeting me at the airport. I want to get in one more workout with my trainer before I leave.” He raised his fist to her.
She bumped it and then covered the two paces to him. Rising onto her toes, she pulled his head down. She closed her eyes, inhaled his faint woodsy, jasmine scent, and let her lips linger against his warm cheek for a full two seconds. Then she whispered near his ear, “You’re a shoo-in.”
She pulled away, and without meeting his gaze, skirted the car and climbed inside.
As she started the engine, she glanced toward Shoo. He hadn’t moved. Just stared at her, his arms at his sides.
She waved, backed from the driveway, and drove away. A tear ran down her cheek. Then another. Her tears were bittersweet. Tomorrow she’d do the right thing.
25
At six in the morning, Shoo rounded the corner. The weight room’s window was dark. Odd. Allie always beat him to their training sessions.
He entered and flipped the light switch, illuminating rows of metal machines. He’d give Allie five minutes before he called and ragged her for sleeping in on their last session. Her trip back over to Walnut Creek yesterday caused a late night for the sprite. She probably needed the sleep.
He stretched his muscles. Legs. Arms. Back.
Hmm. Still no Allie. He leaned his head to one side, closed his eyes, and stretched his neck muscle.
The Putting Green Whisperer Page 22
