Summer Ever After: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

Chapter 39

I just finishedmy last putt of the day on Friday afternoon in round two of the British Open.

Mick and I agreed I should use my seven-iron to chip the ball to the green. It was a nice recovery shot that landed seven feet from the pin to save par. I needed a birdie on this hole to stay in a three-way tie for first place. But the fact that I’m even remotely close to first place is incredible. I wasn’t sure I’d make the cut, so I’m fine to end the first two rounds tied for second.

After the interviews, I gather my stuff from the locker room and head back to the hotel.

As soon as I walk into my suite, the mood shifts to something tense. My mom is on the phone, and Stan leans in close, as if he’s trying to listen too.

“I’m just glad everyone is okay and safe. Tell Grandma Deedee I love her, and tell Heath thanks for checking on our house. Okay, I will. Thanks for calling. Love you. Stay safe.”

My mom ends the call and shares a concerned look with Stan.

“What’s going on?” I drop my bags on the floor and take a seat across from them on the couch.

She turns to me with a worried expression. “A tropical storm hit Sunset Harbor yesterday and all last night. Luckily, it was downgraded from a hurricane, or things could’ve been much worse.”

Panic rips through my chest like the storm itself. “Is everyone okay?”

And by everyone, I mean Jane. Is Jane okay?

“Yes, thankfully,” Stan says. “The power is out, and the cell tower on the island is heavily damaged, so contact is limited. I don’t know how long it will take before they get communication back up and running.”

“We were only able to talk to Tala just now because Mayor Barnes let her use his satellite phone to let us know they were all safe.” My mom places her hand over her heart, sucking in a deep breath. “If he hadn’t let her borrow that, we would’ve been worried for days with no news. The ferries are down, and travel by boat to the mainland is unsafe still with the choppy water.”

“Everyone’s okay, though? Like Capri and Jane?” My anxiety won’t dissolve until I know for sure she’s safe.

“They didn’t say anything about Jane, but I assume she is. No news is good news, right?” Stan looks at my mom for confirmation. “They only said there’s a lot of clean-up to do from the storm, and communication is hard because of the damaged cell tower.”

No news isn’t good news. No news sucks. I’ve spent all week not contacting Jane because she said she wanted a clean break. But I can’t live like this. I don’t want to live like this. I’d decided on the eleventh hole today that when I was done this afternoon, I would call her. I hadn’t really thought about what I would say. I just know our situation isn’t working for me. But now I can’t even call her.

Frustration plays across my face, causing my mom to pat my arm. “Don’t let this distract you. You still have a lot of golf left to play. You can’t be worried about everyone back in Sunset Harbor.”

I am worried about everyone in Sunset Harbor, not just Jane. I’m concerned about Marlyss and how Beach Break Bar survived. Was there any damage to Dax’s garage or Seaside Oasis? How did Grandma Deedee weather the storm? I’m suddenly thinking about an entire community of people I didn’t even know I cared about.

Stan chimes in. “You need to focus on yourself right now and play the best golf you can.”

I’ve always been focused on myself and golf, but for the first time in my life, it doesn’t seem to matter.

Golf is just a game. Something I do, not something I am.

I just wish I could call Jane and tell her my big realization. I’d also tell her how well I played the last two days and that I think she’s the reason I can finally relax and just play.

I would tell her everything.

And I hate that I can’t.

If someone had toldme a few days ago that I’d be going into the final round Sunday morning of the British Open four back from first place, I wouldn’t have believed them.

But here I am.

The only thing I keep thinking is don’t freak yourself out and blow this.

I’ve already spent half the night in the bathroom, trying to ease my nerves—stupid golf gut. Playing on no sleep isn’t the best way to win a Major, but I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to finishing these.

My head and my nerves take me out of it every time.

After each drive or putt yesterday, I kept looking at the crowd. My mom, Stan, and Pete were on the sides, clapping and cheering me on. But I wondered, as I walked from shot to shot, what it would be like to have Jane on the sidelines. She’d be wearing some bright, cheerful color that would be easy to spot. She wouldn’t even have to say anything. Her smile and her animated eyes would give me all the encouragement I needed. She’d help me realize this is just a game and there’s more to my life than being ranked high or winning.

She’d be there at the end of it all, waiting to give me a hug whether I won or not.

Because that’s how Jane is. She accepts me with no conditions.

I tried calling her in the middle of the night, but the cell tower in Sunset Harbor must still be down, because it went straight to voicemail—all four times I called. It’s killing me that I can’t talk to her.

I’d give anything to speak to her or have her with me today…maybe even every day.

The best part of a major tropical storm is how busy you are afterward. There’s the clean-up and the managing of food and supplies while the power is out. I’ve been working non-stop the last two days, making sure everyone on the island has what they need. It’s the perfect distraction to keep me from thinking about Walker and how things are going at the British Open. It’s like he and my broken heart don’t even exist.

I’m all business all the time—city administrator, Jane Hayes, at your service.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about him when my head hits the pillow at night or when there’s a brief moment of stillness between cleaning up debris. I’ll never be able to completely escape thoughts of him, especially with Capri around.

Yesterday, she casually dropped that Tala had spoken to Faye and that Walker had made the cut and was tied for second at the beginning of round two. I didn’t say anything back to her or mention how that information made my stomach spin with nerves. It’s not like I’m the one out there putting the ball. I just want him to do his best. I know how much it means to him to be back at the top of his game. But since there’s no TV or cell service, I can’t look up how he’s doing during the final round today, and it’s driving me nuts.

It’s probably good practice to be clueless about his life.

Because this is how it’s going to be from here on out.