by Susan Wiggs
He unzipped the backpack and took out a photograph of Sean wearing a green sports coat with a crest insignia on the pocket. “Do you know what this is?”
“An egregious fashion mistake.”
“He’s as wardrobe-challenged as I am,” said Lily.
“You don’t know what this is,” Cameron said.
“My guess would be a donation to the Goodwill bin.”
“It’s the green jacket given to a golfer when he wins the Masters.”
She felt a tickle of recognition. “That’s a golf tournament, isn’t it?”
“It’s the golf tournament,” he told her. “The Masters. The most important one in the sport. Only the best in the world can win it—Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods. And one year a long time ago, Sean Maguire.”
He took out an old, yellowed issue of Sports Illustrated. The cover showed a shot of Sean Maguire modeling the jacket and laughing into the camera. The lead article was pitched as “Jolly Green Giant: Golf’s New Great.”
Lily felt a strange sense of discovery. This was a Sean Maguire she’d never known. Maybe she’d sensed the presence of a champion in him, but he certainly hadn’t given her any hint. “How is it that I’ve never heard this? Your mom would have told me.”
“I don’t know. It was a long time ago. Most people don’t remember the winners from one year to the next.”
Lily had been just starting college. Crystal was a new mother. It was possible they hadn’t talked about it.
“Dad said he went into a slump right after that and ended up going overseas,” said Cameron. “That’s not the point. The point is this is a second chance.” He hesitated, then added, “For all of us.”
She stared at the photograph for a long time, then looked at Cameron’s hopeful face. “That’s a really ugly jacket,” she said.
chapter 36
“You’re kidding me, right?” Cameron asked Becky when he visited her after work one night. “You’re moving?”
“My dad’s company is sending him to work on a project in Sonora, California, and it starts Monday,” she said, thumping her bare heels idly against the floor of the front porch. The swing creaked and its chains clanked into the quiet night. “I have to finish the school year there.”
“That’s stupid. Why can’t you at least finish the last few weeks here?”
She shook her head. “Not an option. In the first place, I wouldn’t have anywhere to live—”
“With us,” Cameron said. “My uncle would understand.”
She laughed. “Oh, I’m so sure. I’d be like, Dad, I’m going to live with a boy for a month, is that okay with you?”
“So stay with some other friend, a girl—”
“There’s one problem with that,” she said, her heels thumping again as she sent him a quick, bashful glance. “You’re the only friend I have. And besides, my dad…he can’t really handle being apart from me, you know, ever since my mom died.”
“Does that mean you’re never going to leave home?”
“Not this year. Listen, it’s all right, Cam. I’ve already got a job lined up at a church day camp. The pay’s decent and I’ll be working with kids, which I love. The job is twelve weeks, so I’ll be back at the end of summer.”
Twelve weeks. That was forever. What the hell was he going to do without her for twelve weeks? He still didn’t know if he’d managed to convince Lily to embrace their summer project. He hoped he’d made her understand how important it was to get on the road, to see the kind of life his father had led but had never really shared with his family. Cameron knew he had to get away for the summer, especially now that Becky wouldn’t be around. It was making him crazy, being here in this town, missing his parents, trying to pretend he didn’t know what he knew.
Lily hadn’t agreed that the plan had any merit at all—but she hadn’t disagreed, either. That was the thing with Lily. You never really knew what she was thinking.
“Becky,” called her father’s voice from inside the house. “It’s late. You need to finish packing.”
“In a minute, Dad,” she said, then walked with Cameron to the curb, where his bike leaned against a lamppost. “I’m keeping the same cell phone number and e-mail address,” she said. “Call me.”
“I will,” he promised. “Every day.”
“Be careful going home, Cameron.” Then she just stood there, like she was waiting for something.
His heart drumrolled in his chest. The palms of his hands felt sweaty. Kiss her, he told himself. Do it. Just do it. But the moment passed and she was already turning away, and he’d missed his chance. Dweeb, he called himself. What kind of dweeb was he that he couldn’t even kiss a girl goodbye?
Lily couldn’t stop thinking about Cameron’s proposal. It seemed like a huge mistake to plan the whole summer around Sean and his golf career. The focus needed to stay on the children, though according to Cameron, they would all benefit. She worried the problem in her mind as she went through the usual end-of-school rituals. Ordinarily it was a special, bittersweet time for Lily, a time to step back and look at what she’d done, to sever the ties with the children she’d taught all year.
The last day for the children had been a day-long party, a time for ripping the covers off textbooks and carefully shelving them, for cleaning out tote trays, taking down artwork and going through the lost-and-found. As she doled out hugs and report cards and told each child she was proud of him, there was a sense of accomplishment, and one of sadness, as well. She couldn’t help but wonder where life would take these children.
“Goodbye, Miss Robinson!” The farewell went up like a cheer in the wake of the final bell.
Lily didn’t even try to keep order in the mad scramble to the door. The children looked at her, clearly expecting her to order them to form a straight line. This once, she didn’t. Why try to suppress all that exuberance? Russell Clark, the cheekiest boy in the class, naturally took the lead as they surged in a pack to the buses. Before heading to his bus, he offered her a smile of unexpected sweetness. “Have a nice summer, Miss Robinson.”
“I will,” she said. And she had no idea if she was lying.
“Where you going?” he asked her.
“On a big adventure,” she said with a grin, not knowing if that was the truth or not.
“Cool.” He led the class on a race to the bus circle.
Charlie brought up the rear. She caught hold of Lily’s hand and beamed at her. “No more Miss Robinson,” she said. “After today, I can call you Lily, right?”
“Absolutely right. So how are you celebrating the last day of school?”
Charlie made a face. “Uncle Sean’s working. He told Mrs. Foster we could stay up late and watch videos, though. Bye, Lily. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Lily promised and held her smile in place, though she felt a special agony for Charlie. All around the parking lot, children were running into their mothers’ arms while Charlie walked briskly to her bus.
In her classroom, Lily lingered over the clearing off of her desk. There was the snow globe Charlie had taken from her desk, precipitating that last disastrous conference with Crystal and Derek. Lily gave the globe a shake and held it up to the light, watching the swirling flecks of glitter dancing and spinning around the tiny figure of the angel. I’m so sorry, she thought, aching with regrets, wishing things could be different.
She shoved the snow globe into a drawer and got up, giving the room a cursory glance as she prepared to leave. She had to make a decision. She had to figure out what was right for this family. The hell of it was, she couldn’t figure this out on her own. Though the idea was galling, she had to consult with Sean Maguire.
There was no reason in the world that such a prospect should make her heart race, but it did. She tried not to think about it as she locked up her classroom for the last time and headed to the teachers’ lounge to say goodbye to her colleagues. She didn’t stay long, though. Everyone was talking about their plans, asking about hers. A
nd for the first time in her adult life, she had no answer. She didn’t have every moment preplanned and mapped out. As soon as she was able, she ducked out and drove home. There, she fretted some more and came to an inevitable conclusion. She had to go see Sean.
Her mind made up, she showered, washing off the chalk dust, fussing uncharacteristically over her hair and then agonizing over what to wear. He was working tonight, tending bar at the country club, and Mrs. Foster was watching the girls. Cameron, finally released from servitude at the golf course, was out with his friends. She could only hope he wasn’t joyriding along the back roads at the edge of town. Unlikely, she thought. Not after his loss.
“Come on, Lily. Just pick something,” she muttered, glaring into the depths of her closet. It was the closet of a conservative, boring person, redeemed only by the splashes of color and style added by Crystal. She fingered the red dress she’d worn to the movies with Greg, then dismissed it. This wasn’t a date but a discussion and she should dress accordingly. Slacks, then. No, not slacks. Jeans. With a lime green shirt and clogs that made her taller. She forbade herself to fuss over hair and makeup, reminding herself even as she drove to the country club that this was not a date.
It was so much more important than any date.
Get a grip, Lily, she told herself, crossing the parking lot toward the clubhouse bar. She paused in the front to reel in her nerves. She’d never noticed how pleasant a golf course was, how peaceful. The sun was just setting over the shoulders of the distant mountains, and deep shadows stretched across the fairways. The cry of a bird and the murmur of a car’s engine were muted. And the cool air tasted sweet as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. All right, she coached herself. Just go talk to him.
She reminded herself that she had gotten to know Sean in ways she’d never known anyone else, not even a boyfriend or lover. Sharing what they did, it couldn’t possibly be otherwise. Their love for the children had created a unique, inevitable bond between two strangers who ordinarily wouldn’t even give one another the time of day. She wondered if he realized that; if, like her, he marveled at the impact these three orphaned children had on their lives.
When she stepped into the bar and her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her first glimpse of him swept away those misty illusions. He stood behind the carved oak bar, surrounded by three women. Three attractive women. Three attractive women who were coming on to him. Even from a distance she could see that at least two of them wore wedding bands.
Resentment boiled up in Lily, unexpected and bitter. You’re a family man now, she wanted to scream. You can’t hang around, flirting with married women.
She stood there unnoticed, breathing the yeasty smelling air of the bar and watching a Sean she had never seen before. Without a break in style, he drew draft beer and mixed drinks, refilled snack trays, wiped down the counter and treated the three women as though they were the last ones on earth. He fixed a fresh cosmopolitan for one of them, and she leaned over to thank him, her breasts pressing forward as she slipped a bill into the tip jar.
Forcing herself to overcome her discomfiture, Lily went to the bar and slid onto a leather-covered stool, as far from the three women as possible. He turned to her with that beguiling smile. She saw the instant he recognized her. The smile froze, the eyes turned wary. He excused himself and approached her with a wary air.
“Hey, Lily. Is everything all right?”
“Why would you assume anything is wrong just because I came here?”
“To see me? In a bar? I’m thinking dire emergency here.”
She ground her teeth. Here she was, intending to discuss his future and his career, and he was teasing her. “Maybe I came to celebrate the last day of school,” she said.
“I’d celebrate with you, but Charlie and Cameron brought home their report cards today,” he remarked.
She knew what Charlie’s grades were—definitely room for improvement. But Cameron…“He’s always been an A student.”
“Streaks are made to be broken.”
One of the trio at the other end of the bar signaled. “Seanie, I’m ready for another Kir royale, hon.”
Lily sniffed. “Seanie?”
He winked at her and turned away, easing back into his banter with the customers as he fixed the champagne and Chambord and served it with a flourish. By the time he returned to Lily, she was having second thoughts about bringing up the topic at all. This wasn’t exactly the best place to discuss the children. She cut a glance at the three women. “Your fan club?”
“My best tippers. Don’t look at me like that. We can’t all do something noble for a living.” He braced his hands on the bar and leaned forward. “Now, what can I get you?” he asked in an intimate whisper.
Somehow he managed to make her feel silly and small. Lily bristled. “What’s the house special?”
“Prune juice.” He offered an angelic smile.
“You’re not funny,” she said.
“And you’re no fun.”
She glared at him. “We’ll just see about that.”
Memorial Day was the one day Sean could sleep in, so the honking of a horn outside at eight in the morning was particularly annoying. Who the hell was up at eight in the morning on Memorial Day?
He’d gone to a lot of trouble to get off work so he could be around the kids today. And God knew, he could use the sleep. Wearing paisley pajama bottoms and a deep scowl, he shuffled downstairs and yanked opened the door.
Belching a cloud of diesel smoke, a huge Winnebago idled in the driveway. Except that it wasn’t exactly in the driveway. The wheels on the right-hand half were in the flower bed that bordered the asphalt. And it wasn’t exactly a Winnebago, either. The sides had been painted to resemble an enormous loaf of Wonder Bread.
The engine coughed and died. Lily Robinson got out, leaving the flimsy aluminum door open behind her. “Good morning,” she sang cheerily. She wore jeans and sneakers and had a bounce in her step. She reminded him of a kid, and he wondered what had gotten her all excited.
He managed a grumpy nod, trying not to gag on diesel exhaust.
She walked around the RV, noting that she’d missed the driveway. “Oops,” she said. “I’m not too good at parking yet.”
“Maybe you should go practice in a place where people aren’t trying to sleep.”
“I’m sure I’ll get plenty of practice where we’re going.” Her gaze kept drifting to his bare chest.
Instead of feeling self-conscious, he stood a little straighter. “I need coffee. And I think you have some explaining to do.” In the kitchen, he flipped on the coffeemaker and yawned while it started to drip. “Don’t say a word,” he said, robbing the pot of its first cup. “I know your opinion of coffee.”
“Then you should know it’s a leading cause of the yips.” She marched outside and turned, motioning him to follow.
He blinked at her. “What?”
“You know, the yips.” She climbed in through the narrow doorway and stepped back to make room for him. “It’s an involuntary muscle spasm that occurs while stroking a putt, caused by dystonia or severe performance anxiety. Ben Hogan suffered from it, did you know that?”
“I know. I’m just surprised you do.”
“I’ve decided to educate myself.” She showed him a small library of golf books on a built-in shelf. “There’s so much to learn about the game of golf. I had no idea it was so complex and fascinating.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not rocket science.”
“No, it’s an ancient art begun in the fifteenth century in the Kingdom of Fife. That’s in Scotland.”
Maybe she’d had something stronger than caffeine for breakfast. “Lily,” he said, “what the hell are you doing here?”
“Helping you relaunch your career.”
“What?”
“Cameron told me about it.”
“Did he tell you I turned it down?”
She ignored him. “Your sponsor is really behind you, did you
see?”
“How could I miss it?” He wondered what the genteel residents of the neighborhood thought.
“My sister needed money, so the sponsor leased it and had their logo painted on the sides. They’re really wonderful people to work with.”
Her intention finally penetrated through the fog. He held himself very still, but the effort was too much. He burst out laughing, the amusement coming from deep in his gut.
When he finally stopped, he saw her looking at him.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, for now. But thank you. That was refreshing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a nap.”
She planted herself in his way, easy enough to do in the narrow confines of the RV. “Oh, no, you don’t. You have a contract to sign, and we’ve got plans to make.” Like a gadfly, she darted around the camper, giving him the guided tour. “The girls can sleep together here,” she said, indicating a bunk over the cab. “I’ll take the bed in the rear. You and Cameron will bunk right here.” She showed him a tiny side room with a compartment like a train. Now, there’s only one bathroom but I made out a schedule and posted it on the door, designating—”
“Lily.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. He didn’t mean to touch her but it was the only way he could think of to get her attention.
She regarded him with wide, startled eyes. “You don’t like the schedule? Because I can change it—”
“The schedule isn’t the problem. It’s the whole plan that won’t work.”
“Of course it’ll work. I’ve figured it all out, down to the last detail.”
He didn’t doubt that. She micromanaged everything. “It won’t work because we’re not going.” He dropped his hands, letting her go. “I’m not taking the deal.”
She held very still and watched him. Her gaze never wavered as she said, “Chicken.”
“Give me a break.”
“No, this is fascinating. I’ve finally figured out what you’re afraid of. It’s not taking care of the kids and being a family man. Lord knows that scares most men but not you. The thing you’re afraid of is the thing you love most—golf.”
