Putting Out

by S Doyle

  “Reilly Carr. Stanley Webb from Golf Digest,” he introduced himself puffing as he caught up with them. He was short with a receding hairline and a small nose, but his beady eyes were those of someone familiar with a hunt.

  Reilly was the prey.

  “I have no comment,” she answered, turning her back on the photographer who had waved after the shot.

  “I got that. I got it the first few hundred times. Look, all I want to know is when you think you might have a comment. I’m missing the California swing. Roy Staddler and Sinjin Rye, one and two in the world in case you’re only familiar with your ranking, are going to go after each other in the Pro-Am at Pebble. I need to be out there, but my editor won’t let me go until we know one way or the other on you.”

  Reilly digested that. “Oh. I see. You want me to make what will be the biggest decision of my professional life now because it would be more convenient for you.”

  For a second he thought to deny it then shrugged.

  “I need a story. You need to tell people what your decision is. If that could somehow happen sooner rather than later… well, what’s wrong with that?”

  “What’s wrong is I haven’t made my decision.”

  He snorted. “Please.”

  “What? I haven’t.”

  “This is a no-brainer. You do have a brain, don’t you? Wait, you don’t even need one for this.”

  “Look you little weasel…”

  “Is there a problem?” Luke appeared at Reilly’s shoulder.

  “No problem. Stanley was just saying how much he enjoyed Little Creek and how he was in no hurry to leave.”

  “Excellent,” Luke beamed. “Have you been to the movies yet? It’s a great little theater and the popcorn is the best in the county.”

  Stanley frowned accepting his welcome was up.

  “Any day. That’s all I ask. For the sake of my and a lot of other guys’ careers.”

  He turned and trotted back across the street.

  “What was that all about?”

  “He wants me to make a decision. He’s missing the Pro-Am at Pebble Beach.”

  Luke nodded. “Stadler and Rye are playing. It’s a story.”

  “So I heard.”

  “No one is rushing you.”

  “They are,” she said, pointing to the group Stanley had joined up with, no doubt conveying the bad news she wasn’t ready to tell anyone anything yet.

  “They don’t count.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “But…” Luke let the word dangle.

  “But what?”

  “I think prolonging it is making this harder for you. You’ve got to rip off the Band-Aid. You need to make a decision and stick with it and let what happens, happen.”

  “Now you’re rushing me,” she accused him.

  “Not rushing, nudging.”

  “Feels like rushing.” Reilly knew it because the skin around her body seemed to grow tighter, making it harder to move or breathe.

  “I need to leave Wednesday,” he announced. “Let me guess. The Pro-Am?”

  “I’m doing the coverage for CBS.”

  “Of course you are.”

  A dull disappointment settled in her gut that was hard to digest. She’d missed him. She hadn’t realized it until they were seated around Grams’s table eating dinner together like old times. Now he was going back to work and back to his mystery woman and she was going to be left to decide things on her own.

  She crushed the whining voice in her head. This wasn’t the end of the world. This was a golf match and while the decision was a big deal, it was a big deal she could handle on her own. With no guidance and no pressure from anyone.

  “All right. Let’s rip the Band-Aid off. Hey, Stanley!”

  Reilly jogged across the street where the group of reporters waited for her, several of them reaching for their recorders.

  “Tell me something, Reilly. Anything,” Stanley urged.

  “Give me tonight. Let me do one last roll around with it in my head. I’ll have a statement for you first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re a peach.”

  “And you’re a dick for nagging me. If it turns out I regret anything, I’m coming after you.”

  Reilly made her way back to Luke. Kenny and Erica were already standing outside the ice- cream place. Kenny was pulling Erica inside while she tried to dig in her heels. There was no point. Kenny would win. Erica was stubborn but nobody knew better than her brother how to get women to do what he wanted.

  “It will be better this way,” Luke assured her. “It’s time for the next step.”

  Reilly nodded and let him lead her to ice cream. The next step. Why did she have a feeling that it was going to be off a very high cliff?

  8

  The doorbell rang late in the evening and the group of people circled around the large, flat- screen TV looked up expectantly.

  “I’ll get it,” Kenny announced, bouncing up from his spot on the floor where he had served as Erica’s pillow.

  He felt the punch in his gut the second he opened the door and wondered why after all this time, it still happened every time he saw her.

  “Tessa.”

  “Hey, Kenny.”

  Tessa was tall and built like a woman should be but no woman wanted to be. Most women wanted to be petite and thinner than paper. Tessa was close to five-nine with round breasts, if Kenny remembered, that were larger than his hands could cover. And her legs went on forever. Soft, curly, brown hair framed an oval face that had almost as many years as his did but still always looked the same as it did when he met her in the sixth grade. She had been a mere fourth grader at the time.

  “You’re dating the high school principal, Grams said. That’s not still Mr. Weaver, is it? Because he’d be like six hundred years old by now.”

  She jammed her hands in the pockets of her bulky winter coat and looked away from him. She had this thing where any time he pissed her off, she would look the other way and count to ten. Some trick her mother taught her about keeping her composure.

  He couldn’t fathom why she was upset with him. He was just asking about her life. It was polite.

  When she faced him, her face was redder but her smile was intact.

  “Yes, I’m dating the high school principal. No, it isn’t Mr. Weaver. It’s nice to see you again, too.”

  “Kenny, who is it?” Reilly called out from the living room.

  Tessa tilted her neck to see over Kenny’s shoulder.

  “It’s Tess, Reilly. I came to talk to you about tomorrow.”

  With a deft move she slid around Kenny and stood at the entrance to the living room.

  Reilly had popped up from her perch on a cushion on the living room floor.

  “Hey! How are you doing?”

  Reilly turned back to the room. “Do you remember Luke?”

  “Sure. I used to follow you when you were on the tour. You won the American.”

  “Twice. I won it two times,” Luke said holding up two fingers.

  “Now he is working on winning… Wait, what do you get for commentating on a golf match better than anyone?”

  Behind Grams’s back, Luke lowered one of his fingers. Reilly smiled.

  “This is Erica. She plays with me on tour.”

  “And she’s dating me.” Kenny pounced between the two of them. “We’re dating.”

  Erica glanced up from the TV to give a toothy smile and then turned her attention back to the movie.

  Tessa nodded and moved back a step from where Kenny had inserted himself between them.

  “Good. I’m glad. That you’re happy. Anyway, Reilly, I heard about tomorrow being the big announcement day.”

  “Yep. Tomorrow the world is going to know my decision. Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi. I’ve got to tell you right now it’s still neck and neck.”

  Tessa grew serious. “There were reporters talking about it outside the Lucky Cow…”

  “The Lucky Cow?” Kenny inte
rjected. “Is that place still open? Please tell me it’s not where your principal takes you to eat on a date. You’ll be dead from a heart attack in a year.”

  “You only ever took me to the Lucky Cow,” she pointed out.

  “That was when you were younger. You had a much better chance of recovering from all the fat back then.”

  Tessa looked to Reilly. “Did he just call me old and fat?”

  Reilly winced. “I think so. You can hit him if you want.”

  She shook her head and again turned away for another prolonged silence.

  “Anyway, Robert, he’s the new principal at the high school, overheard them and thought it might be great if you could make your announcement in the auditorium. The reporters liked the idea of pinning you down in a single spot and it would be large enough to hold all of them.”

  “Robert,” Kenny muttered. “Serious name.”

  “All of them?” Reilly continued pushing Kenny in the chest to back him up another step. “There’s about fifteen or so still hanging around. I doubt we need an auditorium for that. I don’t want to turn this into an event. It’s going to be a yes or no answer.”

  “It was an idea. There aren’t a whole lot of places to gather in this town other than well, the Lucky Cow, and Robert thought this might be better.”

  “Sounds like Robert is looking for some publicity.”

  Both Reilly and Tessa turned to Kenny, their expressions incredulous.

  “Yes, Kenny, that’s it. He’s looking to hype … a high school,” Tessa finished. “You know there is only one in town. It’s not like the kids have a choice.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I’m still not sure.”

  “I think you should do it.” Luke had gotten up from his seat on the couch to join the threesome in the foyer.

  “It will be easier to have them all in one group. You can answer all their questions at once without having to worry about being harassed on the street to give your answer one more time. It finishes it.”

  It made sense. The idea of finishing it seemed like a great idea.

  “Okay. Tell him I’ll do it. Just call me in the morning and tell me when to be there.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’ll walk you out to your car, Tessa,” Luke offered.

  For a moment Kenny stared at Luke, but then he glanced behind him into the living room where his girlfriend was still watching the movie.

  “Good night, Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly,” Tessa called out.

  A chorus of good-nights came from the couple seated together on the couch.

  “Nice meeting you, Erica.”

  Her hand went up into the air in what Kenny imagined was a wave, but she never moved it. He would have liked for them to talk. He wasn’t sure why. But since he was moving in the direction of finally becoming serious about someone, and since the last person he’d been serious with was Tessa, some warped part of his mind told him it would be a good idea for them to get to know each other.

  If he could see them interact, if he could study them for similarities, things might make sense. He would know he had the type of woman he connected with. That Erica embodied qualities that he looked for in a mate.

  If Erica was in any way like Tessa, then it had to bode well for his relationship with Tessa.

  Erica, he corrected himself. His relationship was with Erica. Tessa was the past. He was ready for the future.

  “See you tomorrow, Reilly. I’ll call. Bye, Kenny.”

  “Yeah. Bye.”

  He watched Luke open the front door for her and follow her out onto the porch. For a while he stood there looking at the open door.

  “Kenny, are you coming back?” Erica called out to him. “I need something to lean on.”

  His services as a pillow were obviously required again. It was good to be needed. Yes, things were good with Erica. He was glad he’d gotten to see Tessa while he was home. Their encounter at Christmas had left him feeling a little weird. He didn’t want to assign a word to the emotion because he was sort of afraid that it might be regret.

  Now that was behind him. She’d moved on and he had moved on with Erica. Erica was great.

  Beautiful, fiery and…

  “And since you’re up can you make me some popcorn? No butter, no salt. Thanks!”

  Needy. But needy was okay.

  “You weren’t trying to make the moves on her, were you? Because she’s got a boyfriend.”

  Luke rounded the corner after seeing Tessa off. Reilly was bundled in her coat waiting for him on the porch. He liked the picture she made standing there and climbed the steps to join her.

  “Jealous?” She sounded jealous. Looked jealous, too.

  “Who, me? No. But the mystery lady who you are pining away for might have something to say about it and I can guarantee you Kenny would flip.”

  “Kenny is dating Erica. Didn’t you hear him when he shouted that fact to Tessa?”

  Reilly shook her head. “She’s always been his weakest link. Never could figure out why he just didn’t… I don’t know. Then again this is Kenny and he’s horrible at commitments.”

  “Unlike you.”

  “And you. We’re great at commitments. It’s the sticking to them that gets in our way.”

  “Well, I’m working on that,” Luke said.

  “Well, I’m not. I’m more than happy to fly solo for a while. The last thing I need to be thinking about is my or Kenny’s love life. I sort of have this decision everyone is waiting for me to make and now there is a deadline.”

  Luke leaned back against the porch rail. He crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to conserve body heat in the frigid night air. If he called time-out to get his coat, the moment might be lost and he sensed something important was coming.

  “Tell me why this isn’t easy for you?”

  Reilly shrugged causing the fuzzy stuff around the collar of her coat to brush her ears. Suddenly he was reminded of the girl he’d met the first day Kenny had brought him home. Damn, but she’d been cute.

  “It’s just not. Heck, golf has never been easy in Nebraska. Pop would have to drive us hours each way just to play on an actual course where the greens could be sandier than the bunkers. Ask Kenny what it was like growing up a golfer in a committed football state. If he hadn’t been as cool as he is, high school would have been miserable for him.”

  “None of that has anything to do with your decision.”

  “Doesn’t it? I don’t know. Maybe I’m trying to say I worked really hard to get here. I chose the oddball sport. I practiced. I sacrificed. I worked my ass off to be what some are calling the greatest female golfer of the twenty-first century, maybe of all time.”

  Luke understood. “You don’t want to give that up.”

  “No,” she whispered, turning the air into puffs of smoke. “I don’t. Erica wasn’t wrong. All those things she said are true. If I do this and fail miserably, my career on the LPGA, my reputation, my legacy… it could all be over. If I do this and finish average, I’m still not sure that leaves me a whole lot of places to go. The women on tour will hate me.”

  “They hate you now.”

  “True. But I would rather they hate me because they’re jealous of my skills than because they think I’m a traitor.”

  “Is that how you see it? You think you would be betraying them?”

  Luke knew Reilly enough to know if she did believe it, overcoming that hurdle would be the hardest thing she did. Her loyalty was a quality that ran bone deep. Bred into her by her parents, honed by her grandparents. Betrayal wasn’t in her nature. It’s why they had never been together when they’d been married to other people. Cheating wouldn’t have occurred to her.

  “Aren’t I telling them the LPGA wasn’t good enough for me, not competitive enough to hold my interest? Instead, I have to go to this other place, this place where they’re not allowed just to have a real challenge. Hell, I would hate me.”

  Cold enough now to be shivering, Luke mo
ved closer to Reilly. Instinctively she opened her coat and let him bend slightly to snuggle up against her chest, and wrap his hands around her back while she rubbed his arms and shoulders. It shouldn’t have been sexual, but of course because it was them, it was.

  “If you’re trying to turn me on, this isn’t going to work,” she warned him.

  “Please, this would so work. But I’m just trying to get warm enough so I can say this without my lips chattering.”

  It was a decent lie. He backed away after a moment and missed the contact, but he figured he could say what he needed to then go inside for some hot chocolate. The O’Reilly’s was a hot chocolate kind of house.

  “You think you’re telling those women they’re not good enough for you to play with,” he repeated. “What if you’re telling them the opposite? What if you’re telling them they can be as good as you someday? They can begin to compete wherever they want on whatever stage they want. Is that practical right now? No. But you’re putting it out there, Reilly. Sending a message into the universe no one can take back.”

  “What will the message say if I fail? If I embarrass myself on the field where I’ve dominated for more than ten years?”

  “It will say you tried.”

  Reilly scowled. “Tried. I hate tried. Tried is bullshit.”

  Agitated, she walked around the porch a few times. Suddenly, she stopped.

  “No, I don’t want to do this. Everything in my gut says no. There’s no point in risking everything for one golf tournament. I know it’s the American. I know it’s high, holy ground for golf, but at the end of the day we’re not talking about curing cancer or serving my country or any of those things. It’s golf. It’s a silly little game with a ball and a club and while it’s my silly game, I don’t have to let it determine everything.”

  “Okay.” Luke blew out a puff of cold air and shoved his frozen hands into his jean pockets.

  “I’m not doing it,” she stated.

  “Got it.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know you do.”

  She glared at him. “I’m totally serious.”

  “I know.”