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Mulligan

Page 14

by K. G. MacGregor


  no if you'd rather I didn't."

  Sometimes, golfers got distracted

  when followed by people they

  knew. "I won't say a word, I

  promise."

  "Are you kidding? I'd love to have

  you there. You can walk with Mom

  and Dad."

  Marty nodded, and looked to Pat

  for approval. The coach would

  have the final word.

  "It's okay by me," Pat agreed.

  "Great! Let me go tell my friends

  where I'm going to be. Break a

  leg, kiddo!" Marty chucked the

  young woman in the arm and turned

  back toward the bleachers.

  "I missed you again today," Louise said as they returned to their

  room on Friday afternoon to

  shower and rest a bit before

  dinner. For two days, they'd seen

  each other only in passing as

  Marty had followed Tami Sparks

  along the course. Louise tried to

  follow as well, but eventually

  returned by herself to the

  bleachers on the 18th hole, not

  wanting to interrupt her partner's

  concentration as she talked softly

  with the girl's parents and

  watched the young golfer grapple

  with her shots.

  "I missed you too. Tami's playing

  great! She's definitely going to

  make the cut."

  "Yeah, she's only one over, and

  that's just six back from the

  leader. She's ahead of a lot of big

  name players."

  "Yeah, but most of those big name

  players have a lot of tournament

  experience, and they can turn it up

  a notch when they have to. She'll

  need to do that too."

  "Wonder who she'll be paired with

  tomorrow."

  "I gave Pat the number here, and

  she promised to call tonight when

  they announced the tee-times for

  tomorrow." Marty pulled off her

  shirt and tossed it onto the bed,

  adding her shorts and underwear

  to the pile. Naked, she opened the

  drawer in search of the oversized

  t-shirt and shorts she usually

  wore to relax.

  "You looking for these?" Louise

  held up the faded black shirt and

  the baggy gray shorts. She was

  enjoying the view of Marty in the

  buff. She didn't get this view very

  often, even less since the shorter

  woman had put on weight.

  "How'd they get over there?"

  "I guess I forgot to pick them up

  and fold them and put them away

  last night when you threw them in

  the floor," the taller woman

  answered with just the barest hint

  of sarcasm.

  "Louise Stevens! What ever will I

  do with you?" Marty teased,

  catching the tossed items.

  "Well, I have an idea or two, but it

  doesn't involve those clothes."

  Her eyebrow shot up suggestively.

  Marty smiled softly and shook her

  head. "How can you look at me like

  that when I look so awful?"

  Louise's face fell at once. "Marty,

  don't you know that you break my

  heart when you say things like

  that?"

  "I… don't… mean to do that, Lou.

  It's just that I…" She held the

  shirt to her chest, suddenly

  modest.

  "Listen to me." She crossed the

  room and put both of her hands on

  Marty's bare shoulders. "The

  body that I want to touch, the

  body that excites me and turns my

  knees to jelly," she placed one

  palm directly over the blonde

  woman's chest, "is the one that

  surrounds this heart. Isn't that

  the way you feel too?"

  "Of course it is. But you're not

  carrying a spare tire like I am,"

  Marty reasoned.

  "Maybe not, but should I start to

  feel self-conscious about my flat

  chest? Or my gray hair? Or the

  veins on my legs? Or the…?"

  "No, Lou! I think you're beautiful."

  "And I think you're beautiful too.

  Really, I do." Louise dropped her

  hands to caress her lover's

  backside.

  Marty tucked her head beneath

  the taller woman's chin and

  sighed. Sometimes, she was almost

  overwhelmed by her realization of

  how lucky she was to have Louise

  Stevens' love. "I really turn your

  knees to jelly?"

  "Uh-huh."

  The lovers held one another for a

  long time, finally sidling into the

  bathroom to discuss the merits of

  water conservation.

  "Wow, look at this sports car!"

  Marty exclaimed. One of the

  major sponsors of The Dinah was

  an auto manufacturer, and the local

  dealer had arranged to have

  several models on display, rotating

  their positions on the course each

  day.

  "You'd look good in that, Marty,"

  Shirley observed.

  "Nah, not enough room for golf

  clubs. I liked the SUV they had

  here yesterday."

  "Yeah, that one's out by the

  entrance this morning. Oh, that

  reminds me! I almost forgot,"

  Shirley gushed with excitement.

  "Linda and I were looking at the

  ones out front yesterday and

  there was this woman talking on

  her cell phone with somebody

  about where to put the cars today.

  She had on a sponsor tag, and I

  swear to God, Lou, she looked just

  like you did the first time we met

  you and Rhonda at that dance."

  "You're kidding!" Carol said.

  "That's so weird! I mean,

  especially after seeing that woman

  the other day that looked so much

  like Marty."

  "I think you guys are pulling our

  leg," Louise said skeptically. "We certainly haven't seen anyone like

  that."

  "If I see her today, I'll point her

  out," Shirley offered.

  "And we'll keep our eyes open for

  that other one," Joyce added.

  "I think we better hurry over to

  the first tee and claim that shady

  spot," Marty suggested. "You

  gonna walk with me today, Lou?"

  "If you want me to."

  "Of course I want you to." She

  liked having Louise close by.

  Tami Sparks had a scorching third

  round, coming into the clubhouse

  at four under, now only three back

  of the leader, who was still on the

  course. Marty and Louise joined

  their friends at the bleachers on

  the 18th hole to watch the

  remaining golfers finish the day.

  "You know, I don't want to jinx

  Tami or anything, but this is kind

  of like that story you were telling

  the other night," Linda said.

  "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" Marty didn't need to be reminded. She'd been

  thinking about it all day, seeing

  herself in the young golfer's

  shoes as she took c
hances on the

  course. From time to time, Tami

  would talk quietly with Pat as they

  walked to the next tee. Whatever

  the old pro was saying, it was the

  right advice, Marty thought.

  "Are you going to see your friends

  today, sweetie?" Louise turned

  away from the others as she

  asked the question, sensing that

  Marty had developed reservations

  about meeting her former

  colleagues.

  "I don't know, Lou. I haven't really

  kept in touch with any of them

  besides Pat."

  "That's all the more reason you

  should go, isn't it?"

  "I guess." In truth, Marty had

  started to wonder what good

  would come of seeing the old gang

  again; or rather, what good would

  come of them seeing her. Here

  she was, an overweight seasonal

  golf pro, second banana at two

  relatively ordinary clubs. Her best

  chance to get back to the big time

  was in the clubhouse, playing not

  for her, but for Pat Shapiro.

  "Maybe I'll just stop in and say

  hello. I hate to keep all of you

  waiting."

  "We don't mind. Carol and Joyce

  said something about a bargain

  table in the pro shop. That should

  keep us busy for an hour or so."

  "Still, I don't think…"

  "Stay as long as you want,

  sweetheart. Or for as short as

  you want. Whatever's right for

  you is okay."

  Marty looked at her sheepishly.

  Somehow, Louise understood.

  Were it not for Pat Shapiro's

  familiar face, Marty would never

  have found her group. None of the

  women in the tight circle of

  armchairs was immediately

  recognizable as someone she had

  played with almost forty years

  ago.

  "Well, if it isn't Marty Russell!"

  The first woman to speak was

  smartly dressed in a creamy silk

  wind suit like so many of the

  golfers their age wore. Her

  abundance of makeup reminded

  Marty of Pauline Rourke, their

  friend back in Cape Coral. This

  was… Fran Edgars!

  "Fran?"

  The woman nodded excitedly.

  "Marty, you look great! It's so

  good to see you again."

  The blonde golf pro turned to look

  at all of the other smiling faces.

  Their names were coming back…

  Becky Halstead… Mary Jean

  Hunter… Candy Romarco. "Wow!

  It's great to see all of you again!"

  In no time, the excited group of

  women caught up on the ages since

  they'd played on the tour. Fran

  left about the time Marty did, and

  married Dale Thomas, a pro on the

  men's tour. Dale worked now out

  of a country club in upstate New

  York. Fran had all but stopped

  playing the game.

  Becky won three small

  tournaments in 1967, but shoulder

  surgery ended her golf career.

  She was a breast cancer survivor,

  twice divorced and she now sold

  real estate in Texas.

  Mary Jean quit the tour after only

  two years and went back to

  college. She taught physical

  education at a community college in

  her hometown of Chillicothe, Ohio.

  She had a partner of 17 years

  named Lana.

  Candy played eight years on the

  tour, finally winning a major in

  1971. The next day, she announced

  her retirement from golf and

  married her childhood sweetheart

  in Huntsville, Alabama. She and

  her husband had nine children,

  and Candy weighed almost 200

  pounds.

  When Marty's turn came, she

  timidly told of her winters in

  Florida, her summers in the North

  Carolina mountains, and her life

  with the retired schoolteacher

  from Pennsylvania.

  "Didn't you marry Wallace Beck?"

  Interesting that Becky would

  remember that, Marty thought.

  The woman had shared many

  whispered concerns with Marty

  back then about the number of

  lesbians on the tour. But even

  before she realized her own

  orientation, Marty had known the

  risks of alienating sponsors on the

  tour with a rumor here or there.

  "Yeah," Marty sighed, "for five years."

  "Boy, you should have gotten a

  prize for that," Candy said.

  Wallace had quite the reputation

  as a ladies' man.

  "I did, actually," the blonde woman chuckled. "My daughter Katie's 35

  years old now, and I have a six-

  year old grandson."

  "Aw, that's nice," Fran said

  sweetly.

  Now it was Pat Shapiro's turn, and

  Marty listened in envy as the pro

  told of how nice it was to be back

  on the tour again, this time with a

  golfer who had a shot at making a

  real name for herself. "And I have

  Marty to thank for that, because

  she's the one who steered Tami

  Sparks my way."

  Marty smiled meekly. "But she

  took off under you, Pat. You're

  the one that deserves the credit,"

  she said nobly.

  "Hey, remember that time…" With

  Mary Jean's story of Becky's

  stolen clubs, the reminiscing was

  officially underway. More than an

  hour passed as they recalled the

  special moments and laughed over

  shared experiences.

  "Would you look at the time! I told

  Dale I'd only be a few minutes.

  He's going to be pacing all over

  the parking lot!" Fran stood and

  picked up her purse. "It was so

  good to see all of you again. We've

  got to keep in touch."

  Everyone nodded their agreement.

  Pat was the one who had managed

  to pull them all together here, but

  it was clear that all but she and

  Marty had whittled the game to

  something much less important in

  their lives than it had been forty

  years ago. Still, the excitement of

  a major tournament had brought

  them all to Palm Springs, proof

  positive that their glory days were

  something they still held dear.

  The soft buzzer sounded at 6:30

  a.m. on Sunday, the last day of The

  Dinah, and the last full day of

  their vacation. Marty tapped the

  snooze alarm and snuggled into

  Louise's long body. "You feeling

  any better this morning, Lou?"

  Poor Louise had eaten something

  yesterday that "disagreed" with

  her, and had been up and down

  half the night. Around midnight,

  Marty had taken off in search of

  an all-night pharmacy, finally

  coming back with a bottle of pink

  stuff to settle her stomach.

  "I think I'm going to live
," she

  mumbled.

  "I guess that means you're better

  then. Last night, you didn't want to

  live."

  "What do you think it was?" Louise struggled to sit up, gently rubbing

  her stomach in small circles.

  "I don't know. Maybe your piece

  of fish was bad." They had grilled

  Pacific salmon on the patio. "Or it

  could have been that sausage with

  peppers and onions you picked up

  for lunch. That stuff sits out a

  long time. It's a wonder more

  people…"

  "That's enough, Marty." The gray-

  haired woman had a face to match.

  "Sorry I asked."

  Marty chuckled and stroked her

  lover's back. "All things must pass,

  eh?"

  Louise smacked her playfully,

  warning, "This will be you

  someday, and I'm going to show

  you the same sympathy."

  "Sorry, babe. So do you feel like

  going today?"

  "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

  She managed to smile, and forced

  herself out of bed. They all

  needed to be out the door by

  seven to get the good seats at the

  first tee.

  Marty fell back onto the bed to

  watch Louise get ready for the

  day. She'd laid out her clothes the

  night before and was dressed in

  no time. Next, she rummaged

  through Marty's drawers and

  pulled out one of her favorite

  outfits.

  "Will you wear this today?"

  Marty eyed the dark green shorts

  and green and white striped golf

  shirt. It was one of her favorites,

  too, but she suspected that Louise

  liked it because the neck scooped

  low. "You just want to look down

  my shirt."

  Busted. "I just… happen to think

  you look very nice in these colors."

  "Sure, Lou. Whatever you say."

  Ten minutes later, they were

  toasting bagels and getting their

  bag ready for the day: camera,

  film, water, sunscreen, and cash.

  "Are you guys going to follow Tami

  again today?" Linda was trying to

  plan the best approach for Shirley

  to watch the leaders as much as

  possible. The woman's new hip

  just wouldn't allow her to walk

  much.

  "Lou?" Marty wanted to walk with

  her former protégé, but she also

  wanted Louise to know that she

  had some choice in the matter.

  "Yeah, I want to see if she makes

  another move." In fact, after

  watching the young woman

  yesterday, Louise had found

  herself profoundly interested in

  Tami's game. Some of the nuances

  of her approach to the ball

  showed Marty's influence, even

  after all these years.

 

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