Chapter 7
Beth
That went too well. We sold ourselves as a couple to everyone, including myself.
I’m not that good of an actress.
After that moment we had, we met with my parents and spent time with them. While we still had to maintain our couple-like facade, it was pleasantly uneventful and devoid of romantic glances, which is exactly what I needed.
We shared the exciting news about the job opportunity with my parents and they were incredibly supportive. I explained I’d be helping him for a few months doing what I love and studied for. And how I’ll be starting my own company.
They aren’t entrepreneurs themselves—my dad is a high school math teacher and football coach and my mom is a nurse at the elementary school—but they’re big believers in following your dreams.
I thought I’d get more hesitation or uncertainty in terms of traveling with Matthew but then I remember I’m presenting him as my boyfriend, and not the man I’ve known for less than two days.
And Matthew plays his part perfectly. They’re charmed by his wit, easy demeanor, and seemingly genuine affection for me. He’s gracious, attentive...the perfect boyfriend material.
Except he isn’t my boyfriend. But they don’t know that.
And I made sure to mention I would get my own hotel room, which visibly relieved my dad.
We had one more day left in Meadowbrook, which I spent packing and running last-minute errands. I ended it spending time with my parents. They wanted Matthew to come for dinner but I politely declined for him. I needed the space and wanted the last night with them to not revolve around this fake relationship. But of course, Mom asked me all the questions I know she’s been dying to ask me since she found out about Matthew.
This morning, we left to drive a few hours to our first destination, Savannah, Georgia, for the first event, the Play It Forward Annual Tour, and Matthew’s first tournament, the Savannah Marsh Classic.
We learned the small, yet significant, things about each other, like our favorite ice cream (I like cookies and cream and he likes vanilla.). I learned his favorite color is green (mine is yellow) and that he loves dogs (I do too. I had a dalmatian who grew up right alongside me.). He drummed his hands on the steering wheel as oldies blared through the speakers. Another thing we share in common: our love for music from the eighties.
We talked about strategy for his socials and what I will require from him. He wasn’t fond of most of it. I’ll have to work with what I get. I’m still convinced he’ll start to cave and enjoy the process of creating content, at least a little bit.
Now, we’re standing in a large field with kids of all ages, all buzzing with excitement. It’s filled with different game stations and a large makeshift stage with huge speakers in each corner. There’s a lively atmosphere that’s both infectious and overwhelming.
There are athletes of all sports scattered across the field, teaching the kids different techniques specific to their sport. Matthew is showing a group of kids the proper stance for their swing. There are a few baseball and football players tossing balls back and forth. It’s amazing to see athletes coming together to teach and give their time to the youth.
I’m on the sidelines snapping pictures of him as he high fives one of the boys. Matthew told me all about the Play It Forward Organization and how, even while traveling, he takes time to visit the kids at local chapters, wherever he may be. He’s helped kids with their golf swing or taught them life skills, like how to tie a tie or how to fix a flat tire.
I should ask him to show me. I don’t know how to do either.
A man swooshes past me and runs onto the stage.
“Play It Forward, baby! We’re changing lives, one awkward hug at a time,” he shouts into the microphone, causing the kids to gather around him like bears to honey.
He’s tall and lanky, sporting a Play It Forward windbreaker, a fanny pack, and mismatched socks.
I’m trying to place why he seems familiar when Matthew appears next to me.
He leans his head toward me. “That’s the director of Play It Forward, Miles O’Donnell, but everyone calls him Milo.”
“Ah. I saw him on the organization’s website. I was wondering why he looked familiar.”
Milo’s voice booms through the speaker. “Are you ready to continue the fun?”
The crowd erupts into cheers. Milo unzips his fanny pack, pulls out three small oranges, and begins juggling them.
Matthew chuckles, shaking his head. “Milo’s a bit of a character, but he has a heart of gold.”
“And a fanny pack,” I add, snorting.
Matthew nudges me with his shoulder as he tries to hide his laughter.
I snap a few photos before turning back to Matthew. “Does he do that often?”
Matthew shrugs, an amused smile spreading across his face. “Only on days ending with ‘y.’”
I roll my eyes as Matthew chuckles beside me, the sound warm and low in my ear. I snap another picture, this time of Matthew laughing at the spectacle before us. It’s candid, raw, and genuine; a side of him his fans don’t get to see.
The oranges come tumbling down, and Milo picks them up with a bow to the crowd, who respond with another cheer.
“Are you ready for the first game?”
“Yeah!” the kids yell in unison.
“Partner up…it’s three-legged race time! And adults, it’s your turn next!”
There’s a collective groan from the adults at his announcement—apparently, this has happened before. Matthew glances at me, then raises an eyebrow in question. I shrug and grin at him.
We help pass out bandanas to the kids and watch as they race together. Once all the kids have had their turn, it’s time for the adults. I partner with a mom who’s closer to my height. And Matthew pairs up with her husband, who’s almost as tall as Matthew.
He steps beside me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ready to lose?”
“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you,” I tell him, hooking my arm around my partner’s waist as we get ready.
Milo’s voice rings out over a microphone. “On your mark...get set...GO!”
And we’re off. My partner and I stumble awkwardly when we first try to move together, but we start to find a rhythm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matthew and his partner. They’re moving in perfect sync, their long strides covering ground quickly. But Matthew’s laughter rings out in the air as he stumbles and nearly brings his partner down with him.
It allows us to pull ahead in front of them. My partner and I cross the finish line before them, and I throw my arms up in victory.
I turn back to see Matthew helping his partner up, a sheepish grin on his face as he dusts himself off. He meets my gaze and salutes me in mock defeat, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Well, it looks like you need a bit more practice, Wilkes,” I say lightly, struggling to suppress my smile.
A lopsided smirk tugs at his lips, but before he can respond, Milo appears beside us and claps Matthew on the back. “Good try, but it looks like the ladies had the upper hand this time…or should I say leg.”
Milo lifts the wireless microphone. “You know what they say, kids—well, actually, no one says this, but I do, and I think it’s good. If you trip on the way to your dreams, at least you’ve got a funny story to tell when you get there.”
Matthew grimaces, but takes it all in good humor, bowing his head in acknowledgment of Milo’s words. I stifle a laugh.
“Alright, folks!” Milo announces. “Next up is the infamous egg toss! You have two minutes to find your partner and meet me at the center of the field!”
One of the boys that Matthew was teaching earlier runs up to him. “Mr. Wilkes, will you be my partner?”
“You bet, buddy. Let’s do this,” Matthew replies, ruffling the kid’s hair affectionately. He turns to me, an excited gleam in his eye. “Wish us luck?”
“Don’t drop the egg,” I warn him teasingly, snapping another picture of him with the boy before they make their way toward the field.
Matthew’s not just a professional golfer. He’s a mentor, a role model, a friend to these kids. He doesn’t pose for the cameras; he’s genuinely dedicated to giving back to others. The way his eyes light up in excitement when he’s with these kids, it’s endearing. This is a side of Matthew Wilkes that few people get to see, and I feel privileged to witness it.