by S Doyle
“Odie is taking care of your technique. Pierce is handling the physical stuff. Luke can help you with the strategy.”
Reilly’s eyes narrowed. “Where is this coming from?”
“Erica wants me to come see her.”
“Erica wants…” Reilly let her voice trail off. “I’m preparing for the biggest event of my life and you want to fly off for a booty call!”
Kenny put his finger to his mouth and pointed to the back bedroom where Grams was recovering from the earlier excitement.
“It’s not that. It occurred to me there are times I hang around when I’m not necessarily needed. You think every caddy on tour trains with his golfer? No way.”
Reilly climbed a few steps and sat next to him. Sitting where they were it was hard not to think of how often they had done this as kids. Every Christmas morning, certainly, when they would wait for Pop to go downstairs and light the tree and then report back on how generous Santa had been.
This house, her grandparents and most definitely her brother were the best part of every memory she had growing up. It was easy to take for granted she and Kenny would share a life even as adults. For her, golfing was a family business.
Now it seemed he wanted out. The idea appalled her.
“Kenny, what’s this really about? You wanted me to play in this tournament.”
“I still do. I want to be there for you. But did you ever think maybe I spend a little too much living your life and not enough living my own? You did the work when you were twelve. You took your game to the next level. Now you have to go out there every week and hit the ball and sink the putts and make the money.”
“Part of what helps me do that is having you there. You do your work, which helps me do mine.”
“I don’t even read the putts, Reilly. I haul around golf clubs for a living. Sometimes I hold an umbrella over your head. I’m not blaming you. That’s not what this is about. It’s just lately I’ve been wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life. I let it all go. I goofed around in college and relied on my talent to make the team. I never put the work in to take my game to another level. Never buckled down enough to try and really get my PGA card.”
“Is that what you want? To go on tour?”
“No. Which is part of my problem, too. I always knew if I put the time you put into the game I would end up hating it. It was just a game to me. Not the passion like it is for you and Pop.”
“Okay. Maybe it’s being my caddy. Maybe after all these years you’re finally getting sick of your baby sister.”
“You know that’s not true,” Kenny sighed. “We’re friends. You’re moderately tolerable as a boss.”
“Because you don’t listen to anything I say.”
He half smiled. “Absolutely. I’m older. I guess…I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe it’s a midlife thing.”
Reilly scowled at him. “You’re not forty yet.”
“It goes fast. You think you have all the time in the world to do what you want and suddenly —poof. She’s gone.”
“She? She, meaning Erica? You said she wanted you to come and see her, although I think her asking when she knows I need you here is obnoxious. I plan to tell her that, too.”
Kenny shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You really want me to go to Savannah with you?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. I’ll go pack and then I’ll help with the equipment. Is any of that tech-nah-logy working?”
Reilly shrugged. “I don’t know. Odie won’t let me hit a ball yet. He doesn’t want me to be discouraged.”
Kenny patted her on the top of her head as he walked by. “It will be fine. You’ll see. You can do this.”
Reilly watched him go and wasn’t amazed to see he’d already lifted himself out of whatever dark mood had been plaguing him. Kenny wasn’t a brooder. Much like her, he chose to act instead of thinking and worrying. Clearly, whatever Erica had said to him had struck a nerve. Either that or the folded-up card hanging out of his back pocket had something to do with it.
She’s gone.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who he was talking about. For a brief second Reilly considered visiting Tessa to gage her mood. Like magnets, all they had to do was be near each other and they snapped together. But Kenny always managed to pry himself loose. If this time, Tessa had given him a dose of his own medicine, then Reilly should be happy for her.
If only it hadn’t made her brother so sad.
*
Over the next hour the truck was filled with everything Odie and Pierce had brought with them.
“We’re hitting the road now,” Odie proclaimed. “We should be there by Wednesday morning at the latest.”
“You need to keep up the workout schedule, Reilly.” Pierce patted his very flat, very hard abs under his shirt. “Focus on the core.”
“I will.” And she almost wasn’t lying when she said it.
“Drive safe,” Grams encouraged them from her seat in the living room.
“Yeah and good luck,” Pop added.
They left and Luke walked over to kiss Grams on the cheek. “Feel better.”
“Oh, aren’t you sweet. You don’t worry. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time. Seamus already fixed the walker.”
Kenny followed suit with his own kiss on the other cheek. “You do remember that I’m the favorite, right? No matter how nice Luke is.”
“Yes, dear. My favorite grandson.” Her eyes twinkled when she said it and Kenny had to bite back a laugh.
Reilly knelt down in front of her Grams and sighed. She’d been so happy to be home but she hated what it had cost her grandmother. Even after a nap there were still dark circles under the translucent skin around her eyes.
“It will be better without the commotion.”
“I’m made of sterner stuff that a little commotion can't keep me down. For heaven’s sake, it was a minor bump of a car. It might not have even been a reporter, but Arnie Crowley’s son Joe. He’s learning how to drive and might have gotten scared when he realized what he’d done.”
Grams. Always the optimist.
“Maybe it was. But I don’t want to take any chances of any more reporters stepping out of line. You and Pop can go back to your routine.”
“I have to say at this age there is comfort in the routine. As long as it gets shaken up every once in a while. You’ll be in good hands with Luke. Of that, I’m certain. He’s a very nice boy.”
“If you say so. I’ll call when the time gets closer and work out a way for you and Pop to be there.”
“Yes.”
Reilly began to pull away, but Grams reached for her hands. Her hold wasn’t strong, but it froze Reilly in mid-crouch. “Don’t you forget, sometimes it’s not always about the strength in your arms or in your legs or even in your head. Sometimes it’s the strength in your heart that matters. You have a very strong heart.”
“That’s sweet, Grams.”
“I know. I heard it last night on a re-run of Friday Night Lights and it made me think of you. Now you go down there to Georgia and kick some butt, dear.”
Reilly didn’t know what she was more shocked by: her grandmother stealing homespun advice from a TV show or her using the word “butt.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.” Reilly finally stood and turned to find her grandfather waiting for her with open arms.
She squeezed him so tight she wondered if he might protest, but instead, he squeezed her back.
“Don’t be nervous for me, Pop. I know you are, but I’m going to be fine. Luke said his place is in a gated community so we’ll be out of reach of the press and anyone else who comes looking.”
“I don’t like some of the things they’re saying on TV about you. Those professional golfers should be ashamed.”
“It’s a bunch of chest beating. It will settle down soon, you’ll see. I’ll call.”
“Okay.” He let go. “Don’t you be nervous, either. You can do this. I know
you can. You see I knew this girl… woman…once named Reilly and she had the sweetest swing I ever did see.”
Reilly could only nod for fear of making a fool of herself and bawling all over her grandfather. Which in turn would make him bawl and then Grams would bawl. It was the Irish in all of them.
“Take care. Both of you. Just think next time you see me I’ll be playing for the Royal Blue.”
16
Something was happening. There was too much movement. Everyone was moving and taking things. Through the camera lens he could see down to where the road flattened near the house. The tall one was putting stuff in the truck.
He hated the tall one. He was always around Reilly. Always so near her so he couldn’t get close. When she was on TV he was there. When she went to the barn he was there.
Why was he taking everything away?
Those things were hers. The mat that she lay on. The large, heavy ball she’d used to help her grow stronger.
He’d seen those things. He’d been to the barn and seen them on the ground. He’d sneaked in late at night and he’d smelled them. The tall one was taking them away and putting them in the dark truck. Why?
He needed his guardian angel. The angel had come to him a few nights ago and told him what he needed to do. Now he needed to tell him what was happening.
But wait. There she was on the porch. So pretty with her blonde hair falling down her back. She moved like a goddess. Like a pretty blonde princess. He was so lucky God had provided him with the help he needed to be so close to her.
Reilly. He could stare at her all day. But now she was putting bags in the back of one of the cars. Luggage. That wasn’t good. That meant that she was going somewhere, somewhere he didn’t know. That couldn’t be. He couldn’t see her in the place he didn’t know.
He would ask the angel. The angel would tell him where to go.
Luke leaned out the window and punched in the code to get through the gate. Skidaway Island was prime real estate outside of Savannah, which was more than enough reason to buy, but that wasn’t what attracted Luke to this place.
Pulling up into the driveway, he sighed as he spotted the house. An old-fashioned Southern plantation home, gleaming white with black shutters, it reminded him of another home, which had withstood the test of time. The sun was setting behind it and it almost seemed to glow in the orange and purple light that surrounded it.
“Wow. Cool house. Is this a real antebellum plantation home?” Reilly leaned out the window.
“No, it was built four years ago. But it looks old, doesn’t it? I love it.”
“You bought a new place that looks old.”
“It was sentimental.”
“Sentimental? Who are you channeling Rhett Butler? You were raised on the West Coast.”
Luke shrugged off her teasing and got out of the car. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a house steeped in age, history, and tradition, but it looked like a house that might be. It was the closest he’d come to finding something that made him feel like he had roots. Like the farmhouse. So he bought it. One advantage of the whole being-rich thing.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want an original. This house has four bathrooms, two Jacuzzis and a pool. There’s plenty of property out back. We’re not too far from Moon River and there’s enough marshland to lose as many golf balls as you can stand.”
“Moon River. Like the song?”
“There’s a song?”
Reilly shook her head, dismissing all men as culturally deprived. For Luke, if something wasn’t being blown up or chased by a car in a movie he had nothing to do with it. It was much the same for Kenny. Kenny, who was currently snoring softly in the backseat of the car.
“Hey, Kenny, we’re here!” Reilly shouted. She grimaced in disgust as he wiped a smudge of drool from his chin. “You are worse than a two-year-old in a car, you know that?”
“I was tired,” he grumbled.
Between Luke, Kenny and then add Odie, the amount of testosterone she was going to be sharing space with for the next several weeks was a little overwhelming. Thank heavens she’d have Pierce. Eye candy and balance. A woman couldn’t ask for more.
Together they stumbled out of the car and collected the luggage. Luke fussed with the front door lock while he tried to figure out which of his eight keys he needed. He also needed to remember the alarm code.
“Lots of security. That’s good.” Kenny shifted a few bags over his shoulders. “I got to tell you, I was getting a little creeped out by the phone calls and the letters.”
“I’m happier the press is going to have to stay outside the gated community. That’s right, isn’t it? They won’t be allowed inside.”
“Nope,” Luke assured her. “Only those with an owner’s permission. They either have to know the code or be let inside. The residents of this community aren’t likely to offer any assistance to the press. This place is about privacy.”
Once inside, Reilly could see the house was definitely born of modern architecture. Rather than several small rooms, which had fancy names like the library, the conservatory, the parlor and such, the first floor was designed as one large open space melding into another. She could see a kitchen with a large great room attached to it with a wall made almost entirely out of tall windows. There was a staircase off to her right that led to the landing of the second floor.
“Which bedroom is mine? I want to change and work out for a while. Between the plane and the car trip, I’m actually feeling lazy sitting on my butt all day. Pierce would be proud.”
“Take any one. The ones in the back have a veranda that overlooks the river.”
Luke watched as Reilly took her bags up the stairs and admired the snug fit of the jeans she’d worn throughout the trip. He’d been doing his best to be noble in deference to his more long- term plans, but he had to admit seeing her this morning, even after such a short time apart, had made him edgy.
Needy.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kenny dropped his duffel at the bottom of the stairs with a loud clump.
“What?”
“You were staring at Reilly like… like, you know. I’m pretty sure you were checking out her ass.”
Luke shrugged. “She’s got a nice ass.”
He left Kenny in the foyer and took the two steps up to the landing that melded into the kitchen and great room. He opened the refrigerator and was pleased to see it full as per his request by the service who cleaned and kept the place stocked for visits. He took out a beer and then took out another one thinking maybe it was time for a long overdue conversation.
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kenny’s expression was confused more than it was angry. He didn’t hesitate to take the beer out of Luke’s hand.
“It means she’s got a nice ass.”
“You’re not supposed to notice those things. It’s Reilly. Shit, she’s as much your little sister as she is mine.”
“She is definitely not my little sister.”
This time Kenny’s confusion was wiped away by brotherly concern.
“Are you telling me you’ve made a move on my sister?”
Made a move, had a move made back. Basically he’d made love to her so many times and in so many ways it was hard to count them all. Usually leaving them both close to death afterward. But Luke didn’t say that. As much as he thought it might be time to put the idea of him with Reilly in Kenny’s head, he figured he didn’t need to add any sensual images to go with it.
“Kenny, I got the whole older-brother thing when we were in college and she was just a kid but times have changed. She’s a woman now and she doesn’t need an older brother looking after her.”
“Like hell she doesn’t. She’s made a mess of her personal life and the last person I would want to see her with is you. You’re a bigger mess than she is.”
Luke bristled, but he couldn’t refute the truth. “I’m not saying I’m the best candidate for her. Hell, I’m a three-time loser. Reilly and I are f
ar too competitive to merge easily. I’m just saying if I have a thought or two about your sister it’s not a crime against God and man. You need to deal with that.”
“Bullshit.” Kenny slammed the beer down on the granite counter and stormed out toward the French doors that overlooked the pool and the backyard.
Since he was a guy, the appropriate move for Luke was to let his friend blow off some steam and turn on the television to catch the latest sports news. That’s what guys did. But something in Kenny’s tone, the level of his anger, bothered him. He had plans. He needed Kenny on his side.
More than that, Reilly needed them all to be a unit, not two halves fighting against one another. He picked up the now-foaming beer, poured the head off into the sink and followed him.
Kenny was looking at the dock that led to a small rowboat, which could be used to navigate the marshes to where they emptied into the river.
Luke gave him a second to accept his presence before he handed him his beer.
“So what’s up? Really?” Luke asked casually as he tipped the bottle to his lips.
“You’re hot for my sister, that’s what’s up.”
“I don’t think so. I think there’s something else going on. We’re friends. We should be able to talk about stuff like this.”
Kenny snorted, but took a swig of his beer. He didn’t turn his head, but cocked it slightly in Luke’s direction.
“Did you ever feel like everything around you was changing, but you were standing still? Stuck in quicksand or something and you can’t move?”
“Yep.”
“What did you do?”
“I quit the tour.”
This time Kenny turned to look at him. “Seriously. That’s why you left?”
“My whole life had become one tournament after another. One commercial shoot after another. One bimbo girlfriend to bimbo wife after another. I woke up one morning and realized my life had no more meaning than a game. Where for everyone else it was a job. A job they could leave behind and go home to something after the season was over. So I quit.”
“I can’t leave Reilly. Especially now.”
