"Go on," Ryan reassured her.
"Well, I was mortified to have her make those assumptions and to have been caught staring at you, so I went out to my car, and you were um...occupied, right in front of me. I felt like I was stuck there, because I certainly wasn't going to interrupt you at that point," here she blushed fiercely. "But you got in her car, and I was able to leave," she said as she let out a big breath.
"So...does it bother you to see me with a woman?" she asked sincerely.
"No, I don't think so. I saw you with Chitra from class that time and it didn't bother me at all."
"That's true," she mused. "But you didn't know me very well then. Do you think that made a difference?"
"That might be part of it," she admitted. "But I think the bigger issue this time was that you didn't know you were being watched. I felt like voyeur," she confessed. "I'm really sorry I saw you and that I didn't turn away immediately, Ryan."
"And I'm sorry that I embarrassed you, Jamie. Robin lives at home too, so we don't really have anywhere to go to be um...alone. I don't usually let myself get that carried away in public," here she blushed furiously, "but it's been kind of a while, and I just lost my head," she confided. "Like I said at the gym, I was feeling a little twitchy," she said as her blush deepened.
"I'm sorry Ryan, that must be difficult for you," she said sincerely.
Here Ryan grinned broadly, "You don't know what difficult is until you try to do it in the back seat of a Corolla when you're over six feet tall," she said wisely.
"Well, I hope it all worked out in the end," Jamie teased back.
"Yeah, we reached our destination," she divulged, "but my neck's still stiff," she laughed as she rubbed the part in question. "I've got to start inquiring about living arrangements before I accept dates," she said with a grin.
Jamie smiled as she forced herself not to consider exactly how that neck got so stiff.
After class on Friday Ryan was bubbling with energy due to her newfound freedom. She had recently decided that she no longer needed to work the early shift at the gym since Jamie had secured 15 hours of private training per week, and that was more than enough to support her. The gym was sorry to see her cut back, but they were so happy with the new members she had brought in that they still felt they had gotten a good deal.
Now, her first appointment was her 8:00 a.m. class. This allowed her to sleep an extra two and a half hours or even go out at night, something that had not been possible for years. "You know Jamie, you have allowed me to have a quality of life that I didn't think was possible. Getting me that job at the gym has allowed me to feel more rested than I have in years."
Jamie regarded her friend carefully. Ryan did look better than she had ever seen her. Not that she had ever looked truly bad, she thought with a laugh. But Ryan now looked completely relaxed and was childlike and very playful the vast majority of the time. The little lines of tension that sometimes nestled between her eyebrows were completely gone and Jamie also noticed that Ryan's chronic habit of rubbing her eyes had almost stopped.
"Did you hear Linda say that we didn't have class on Monday?" she asked, off topic.
"I have never missed a teacher canceling a class," Ryan replied lightly. "I could sleep 'til noon if I wanted to," she said happily. "I'm all caught up on my lab work so I don't have that on Monday either."
Jamie was very pleased to see her friend look so serene. "I have a little idea for how to occupy your morning, if you're up to getting your butt kicked," she offered.
"I guess that depends on who is doing the kicking," she mused.
"How about me?" Jamie replied.
"What method are you planning on using for kicking my butt?"
"Golf clubs," Jamie replied fiendishly.
"I think my butt is in big trouble," Ryan replied with a grimace.
Jamie pulled up in front of the 2 story home at 6 a.m. sharp. She was driving an enormous claret red Range Rover. Ryan popped out of the front door looking absolutely perfect for a day on the links. She wore a navy blue turtleneck under a navy blue, emerald and white argyle cardigan. Navy blue poplin slacks covered her long legs. Her hair was in a neat braid that hung down her back. She looked at Jamie with a quizzical little grin. "Um, Jamie," she said across the roof of the big car, "Something ate your car."
"As much as I love my little car, golf clubs do not fit well," Jamie replied. "My father has an apartment in the City and he keeps this car there. I called him and he wasn't planning on using it, so here we are."
"Pretty nice spare," Ryan replied as she looked the car over thoroughly.
Jamie tossed the keys to her with out a word. Ryan gave her a winning grin and trotted around to the driver's side. "You know me too well, Jamie. I have to learn to keep some secrets from you."
"I don't think you can ever learn to keep that grin off your face," she replied fondly.
Ryan looked like she belonged in the big car. The scale of the car fit her perfectly, unlike Jamie, who looked a bit lost in it. "So where to?" she inquired brightly. "I hope it's far," she added as she gripped the wheel and got a devilish look in her eyes.
"We're going to the Olympic Club," Jamie replied.
"The Olympic Club?" Ryan nearly shouted. "I've never played before, Jamie. They have the U.S. Open there!"
"I'm well aware of the history of the club, Ryan. My mother's family has belonged for generations," she stated honestly. "But don't worry your pretty little head. We'll get warmed up on the driving range, then we'll get a cart and you can caddy for me if you don't feel comfortable."
"Do I get to drive the cart?" she pleaded. "I've always wanted to drive one of those little things."
"Yes, you can drive the cart," she replied indulgently as she smiled at Ryan's hopeful look.
"Okay, let's go!" she responded gleefully.
As she glanced into the rear of the car Ryan noticed only one set of clubs. "Did you bring some clubs for me?" she asked.
"Yep, those are for you. If you can play with right handed clubs, that is. My father keeps a spare set at the apartment for guests or when he wants to play another course. He's about your height, and you're easily as strong as he is, so I thought they would fit you," she explained.
"Well, since I've never struck a golf ball I guess I can do it equally poorly from either side, so right handed clubs should be fine."
"Well, it's a little more complex than that, Ryan. Is your right hand dexterous?"
A waggling right eyebrow was her devilish response.
"Come on, silly. Be honest with me. I'm sure we can rent a set of left handed clubs at the course if we need to."
"No, Jamie. Right handed ones are fine. I'm a natural lefty but I switch hit when I play softball and I can throw with either hand."
"You are quite the jock, aren't you?" she observed as she cast a sly glance at Ryan's athletic body.
"I do all right," she said with a touch of smugness.
A few minutes later, Ryan pulled up to the attractive clubhouse as an attendant in a white shirt and pants dashed out to greet them. "Good morning Miss Evans," he greeted Jamie cheerfully. "Are you joining Mr. Evans this morning?"
"No, my friend and I are going to play alone today," Jamie replied as another attendant ran to open Ryan's door. The first young man trotted around to the trunk and lifted the gate. "Will you be having breakfast first?" he inquired.
"No, but I would like a large hot chocolate," she said as she rubbed her hands together against the morning chill. "How about you, Ryan?"
"Sounds great. I'd love one," Ryan replied.
"We'll be over at the range, Charlie," she replied as she led Ryan into the clubhouse.
Jamie led her cautious looking friend through the ornate clubhouse, finally finding their way to the ladies locker room. She walked over to a narrow but long wooden door which bore a neat plaque labeled 'J. Evans'. Jamie opened the door with a key that she produced from her pocket. Ryan watched as she removed a neatly polished pair of white g
olf shoes and sat on a bench to put them on. As she watched her Ryan mused that Jamie looked particularly at home in this setting. She wore a sea foam green turtleneck with a cream colored sleeveless cardigan. Her cream colored lightweight wool slacks were held up by a thin black belt, giving her a casual, yet elegant look. After she had tied her spikes she pulled a navy blue nylon anorak out of her locker and stood to leave.
"What size shoes do you wear?" she asked curiously.
"It depends on the shoes," Ryan replied. "My gym shoes are usually 10's, but some of my loafers are 9 1/2's. Why?"
"Come with me," Jamie replied mysteriously.
They walked into the opulent pro shop. Ryan gazed around the overstocked shelves, a bit in awe. "Hi, Jason," Jamie called brightly.
"Morning Miss Evans," he replied. "What can I do for you today?"
"My friend here," she indicated Ryan, "needs a couple of things. Hold up your left hand," she instructed as Ryan dumbly complied.
"Hmm," replied Jason. "Looks like a men's small. What color?"
Jamie replied for her, "Navy," she replied firmly.
He handed Ryan a navy glove which she slipped onto her left hand. "Seems perfect," she replied as she got the idea and held up her hand for Jason's inspection.
"What else?" Jason inquired.
"A pair of Foot-Joys, 9 1/2's, leather soles, this style," she lifted her own foot for him to see. This got her a wide eyed look from Ryan, but Jamie just winked at her and said, "Trust me."
Jason brought the shoes out and Ryan sat down and removed her gym shoes. "Would you like to wear two pairs of socks, Ma'am?" he inquired. Ryan looked to Jamie who again replied for her. "Yes, a pair of Foot Joys."
As he left to find the proper socks Ryan said in a whisper, "What are you doing? I can't afford this, and I don't want you buying all this for me."
"You can't judge if you like the game if you don't have the right equipment. Now be quiet or I'll buy you golf clubs!" she threatened. Ryan closed her mouth abruptly and kept it closed. With two pairs of socks she needed the size 10 shoes, but she nodded her assent when Jason asked about her comfort.
They clomped out of the pro shop and walked in silence to the rear of the building. Exiting the rear door they walked the short distance to the driving range where their clubs were set up neatly on bag stands. Large buckets of clean white balls stood near each set of clubs. A golf cart sat about 5 feet behind the clubs and Ryan could see two large insulated mugs in the drink holders.
"So this is how the other 1/2 of 1 percent lives," she teased. "But I have a bone to pick with you Miss Evans. I would not have accepted this invitation if I had known you were going to spend this much money on me," she chided.
"Well, Miss O'Flaherty," she replied logically, "Why do you think I didn't tell you beforehand?"
"It really does make me uncomfortable," Ryan revealed. "I'm not used to my friends spending money on me."
"Look Ryan, lets get this settled," she said as she sat in the cart and patted the seat next to her. Ryan gamely joined her, and met her eyes. "I will personally have so much money one day that I don't believe I could spend it all in my lifetime, unless I started buying military aircraft."
"But..." Ryan started but was cut off.
"I wanted to come here to play today. It's much more fun for me to have you with me. You will enjoy the day more if you have the correct shoes. You will not get a blister on your hand if you wear a glove. The membership here belongs to my father. He is happy that I brought you here. He figures that if I have a friend to play with, I will play more. If I play more I get better. When I play well it gives him enormous pleasure. So, really, you've made my whole family happy by being my guest," her face curled into a cute little grin that Ryan had no defenses against.
"Well, if it makes the whole family happy, I guess I can't turn it down," she grumbled.
"Ryan, you are the last person who would want to be my friend because of my money. But it gives me pleasure to spend just a tiny bit of it on you. Will you let me do that once in a while?"
She took a deep breath, gazing into Jamie's eyes and found herself saying, "Yes, Jamie, I will. I promise I will not bring it up the rest of the day. I will just sink into the lap of luxury and enjoy."
They hopped out of the cart and walked over to the clubs. Jamie explained all of the rudiments of grip, stance and swing mechanics. Ryan watched her studiously and seemed to absorb all of the important points. Jamie picked up a 3 iron and instructed, "Stand behind me and watch for a few minutes. Then go around and watch from the front."
Ryan gamely did as she was told. She noticed that Jamie began her swing with a small downward and forward movement of her hands. The next move was a pronounced cock of her wrists, followed by a pulling of her right arm as the club moved behind her back. Her torso was fully coiled at the top of her backswing. Ryan also noted a counterbalancing tension in her legs. When she reached the apex of her swing it almost looked as though her upper body was ready to be thrust forward by her lower body. A millisecond later that was exactly what happened. Her arms paused at the top of the swing. Her left shoulder was tucked firmly under her chin, her hands were behind her head and her body was fully coiled. She exploded out of the stance by striking her left heel to the ground. Her knees shifted laterally as her hips opened toward her target. At impact it appeared that all of her momentum was taking her in the same direction the ball was traveling. The ball clicked sharply as it flew into the cool air and landed a good 200 yards away. Jamie finished her swing with almost all of her weight on her firm right leg, her torso turned toward the flight of the ball, her chest pointing slightly upward, and her hands pausing high above her left shoulder.
"Wow," Ryan enthused, "that is a very complex move. There must be fifty different elements to that swing."
"That is the biggest problem that golfers have," Jamie agreed. "The swing really is complex. I would guess it is harder to hit a baseball because it's moving, but this it really tough to do well. That's why it annoys me when people say golf doesn't require much skill." She shrugged slightly and added, "I mean it's not as much of a sport as baseball or football, but just because you don't get tackled, doesn't mean it isn't hard."
"Well, it certainly looks hard to me," Ryan agreed. I've got no idea where to start."
"Let me get you set up right so you can see how your body should feel when you address the ball," she suggested. "Move your feet about shoulder width. Flex your knees a little so you feel like your weight is a little over your butt, and on the balls of your feet. Keep your back straight but not rigid. Do you mind if I stand behind you to take a practice swing?"
"I don't mind a bit, but I doubt that you can accomplish it," she teased. "I'm at least 10 inches taller than you are."
"That's where you're wrong, Buffy. It's easier to do when you're smaller than your student." She stood so close that the toes of her shoes touched the heels of Ryan's.
"Bend your knees a little more," she said. "You should almost be sitting on my lap," she instructed as her own knees touched the backs of Ryan's. "That's much better," she said right into her pink ear.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she thought weakly when she began to lose her concentration. Ryan smelled so good that she felt herself trying to sniff her neck. Her breasts were pressed against her back and their legs touched from their pelvises down to their knees. Concentrate! she reminded herself firmly.
She wrapped her arms around Ryan's and loosely placed her hands atop her friend's. "Okay, just stay loose and let me move you," she ordered. Ryan complied with her instructions as Jamie began the swing. "Okay, start with a good flex of your left knee... good, now here goes the hands… feel your hips turn... good, now feel the stretch in your torso when we really extend at the top... excellent!" At the top of the swing they were completely entwined. Jamie felt her mouth go dry as jolts of sensation shot up and down her body everywhere that it came in direct contact with Ryan. She knew that they had been in position long
enough but she was having trouble making herself move. She took a deep breath to clear her head, but that just made matters worse when she got another good whiff of her sweet scent. She finally forced herself to move through sheer willpower. "Okay, now plant your left heel firmly and uncoil your hips," she said as she pressed her hips against Ryan's. "Here go the arms...just let them follow... good... now a big follow through... excellent!" she said with pride. "You are very easy to work with," she said happily.
Ryan turned around and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "This really is your sport, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"You just seem to understand the swing at a really fundamental level. When you can explain it as well as you do, it must be something that really resonates with you."
Jamie thought about that for a moment. "I guess you're right," she agreed. "I feel really comfortable when I play. It actually makes me feel kind of calm."
"I feel like that when I run. It's kind of an altered state," she admitted. "But this golf swing is mighty intriguing. There's so many elements that I don't know where to start."
"My suggestion is to put one simple swing thought in your head. Imagine that marker," she pointed at a 100 yard marker, "is an open window in a big wall. Now imagine that you have to stand laterally to that wall and heave a heavy weight through it. Try that without holding a club."
"Okay," Ryan replied, a little doubtful. She did as she was told and felt herself approximate Jamie's swing. "Hey, that works!" she beamed.
"Don't really think about the club, don't think about hitting the ball. Just concentrate on tossing that big weight," Jamie instructed. She handed Ryan a 5 iron and showed her how to sole the club. She bent over and placed a ball in front of the club. "Give it a whack," she exhorted.
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