Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next day found Zoe and John at Good Hope Mini-Golf.
Practically an institution on the peninsula, it sat just off the highway, nestled among towering pines and bursts of wildflowers that refused to yield to fall.
A small, hand-painted sign pointed toward the entrance, where a squat building shaped like a gnome’s cottage leaned slightly to the left, as if tired from years of whimsy.
Inside the gnome cottage, the air smelled faintly of popcorn and plastic scorecards. Callum was already chatting with the teenager behind the counter, who handed over putters and a basket of neon golf balls.
“I thought you’d bring Parker,” Zoe said, giving Brynn a hug. “I was looking forward to showing him some trick shots.”
“He’s with my parents this afternoon.” Brynn smiled. “They have a new puppy.”
“I don’t think we’re getting him back.” Callum grinned. “He’s crazy about dogs.”
“Like father, like son,” Brynn teased.
“Connor and Callum had this Russian wolfhound growing up,” Zoe told John, her face lighting up. “Everyone loved Boris.”
“Wolfhounds get pretty big,” John commented.
“He was a big baby,” Callum said with a fond smile of remembrance. He glanced at Brynn. “I see a wolfhound in our future.”
Brynn laughed. “For sure a dog. But the breed is still up for discussion.”
“You like dogs, John?”
“I do. We had a Shih Tzu when I was a kid. Ernie.”
“A far cry from a wolfhound,” Callum noted.
“Ernie was fierce.” John smiled. “I’m betting he could’ve sent your wolfhound running for the hills.”
Callum laughed. “No doubt. Like I said, Boris was a marshmallow.”
The course glowed under the soft afternoon sun.
The fairway was bordered by clumps of flowers and scraggly grass, the whimsical obstacles lending the place a sense of mischievous fun.
Families and friends were scattered across the course, their laughter and cheers blending with the soft clack of golf balls and clubs.
Zoe glanced over at John, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I got Erik to play mini golf with me one time. That was it for him.”
John’s grip on the putter tightened just enough for her to almost miss it. “Yeah,” he said after a beat, his tone even. “I remember him mentioning it.”
She gave a faint, wry smile. “Erik wasn’t exactly a mini golf kind of guy.”
A quiet chuckle escaped John. “That’s one way to put it.”
Zoe tilted her head, sensing there was more behind his tone, a faint ripple beneath the surface. But before she could ask, John’s expression settled, and he shifted his attention toward the course.
“Ready to get your game on?” Callum called out as they lined up at the first hole, which featured a winding path through faux boulders and a mini bridge over a trickling “stream.”
Zoe flashed a confident smile as she clutched her putter. “Oh, I was born ready.”
“Bring it on,” Brynn quipped, choosing a pink ball and rolling it around once in her palm.
John grabbed a yellow one, though his focus lingered on Zoe’s profile, sunlight catching the wisps of hair around her cheekbones.
He’d been looking for the right time to bring up Erik. To discuss that tumultuous time and put it to bed once and for all.
But like every other time this week, the moment hadn’t come.
Once the game started, the easy rhythm of playful banter and friendly competition swept him up. They moved from hole to hole, teasing and cheering one another on. Zoe ribbed Callum when he overshot into the gravel. Callum called John a show-off when he sank a hole-in-one on the seventh.
And Zoe… Zoe was radiant. Light on her feet, full of laughter, her joy contagious. Watching her like this, it was hard for him to imagine ever putting that smile at risk.
He didn’t want to ruin this. Not with old ghosts.
“Careful,” Zoe warned, grinning as he lined up a shot at a hole guarded by a rotating gnome wielding a mallet. “He’s unpredictable. Much like River during Monopoly.”
“I’ll take my chances,” John replied, but he tightened his grip on the putter anyway.
When his ball slipped past the gnome and dropped cleanly into the hole, Zoe let out a little cheer, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“If I sink that putt, will you kiss me?” Callum asked Brynn.
She grabbed his shirt and kissed him soundly. “You don’t need a putt to earn that.”
By the final hole, John stood with the others, clapping as Zoe’s ball disappeared into the base of the volcano.
The sun dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across the course.
The air smelled of warm pine and laughter.
As they completed scorecards and joked about a rematch, John’s gaze settled once more on Zoe.
Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowed pink, and her smile was as easy as he’d ever seen it.
“Our engagement party is in two weeks,” Brynn said as they reached the parking lot. Her gaze settled on John. “I hope you’ll be there.”
“I’d love to come,” he said without hesitation, slinging an arm around Zoe’s shoulders.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Zoe added.
“So are we.” Brynn flashed a bright smile.
The ride home was quiet in the way good days often were. The sun had slipped behind the tree line, casting long ribbons of shadow across the road. Zoe rested her elbow on the edge of the open window, her fingers trailing through the cool fall air as John drove.
She loved the way the pines blurred past in dusky green. Loved the way the wind tangled her hair, the faint lingering scent of fried whitefish on her sweater and the memory of laughing too loudly when Callum’s golf ball bounced off the volcano and ricocheted into the water hazard.
It had been a good day. One of those slow-burning, soul-satisfying days that crept under your skin and settled there.
But as the last of the laughter faded into silence, her thoughts drifted. Not by choice, exactly, but memory was funny like that. Uninvited and sharp.
The mention of Brynn and Callum’s engagement party had stirred something.
Her own engagement party had been beautiful.
Erik had insisted they host it in Austin, where their friends were.
He’d rented the ballroom at the Driskill, all high arches and dramatic trompe l’oeil ceilings.
The night had shimmered with candlelight and clinking glasses and tiny hors d’oeuvres no one could pronounce.
But it hadn’t felt like her style.
Her parents and some family had flown in, awkwardly floating at the edges of conversations with Erik’s colleagues. Brynn had come, too—God bless her—and called it “the most elegant networking event I’ve ever attended.”
Zoe had smiled until her face ached, dancing under the painted dome, trying not to notice that Erik hadn’t once stepped outside the circle of his friends to check on her.
Now, sitting beside John in the soft hush of early evening, she felt the contrast like a low, steady ache.
She hadn’t had to chase joy today. It had found her.
The car hummed on, the trees thinning as they neared town.
Zoe leaned her head back against the seat, her hand in his, her chest just a little lighter.
Maybe the past had its place, but she was done letting it steal joy from the now.
There was so much waiting ahead—new days, fresh chances—and she was finally ready to say yes to all of it.