Chapter 21
Mary turned into the driveway, her headlights illuminating the dark night. Brady was carrying RaeLynn from his Jeep toward his front door the same way a groom would carry his bride over the threshold. She hit her brakes, feeling as if she was interrupting. Brady and RaeLynn disappeared into his apartment. Every time Mary had seen Brady with RaeLynn, he’d acted as if he was in love with her. She’d never understand why he’d cheated. Was his relationship another thing she’d wrecked by being here?
She turned on the television and lay down on the couch, thinking again of how Kimberly had glowed as she talked about her love of broadcast journalism. Mary had never been as excited about reporting as her friend was. The sad stories affected her too much. Thank goodness no one had been hurt in the fire today. She yawned. Her eyes felt heavy. She couldn’t keep them open, but she didn’t have the energy to go to her bedroom.
She awoke to the sound of Dean’s familiar voice.
Dean!
Her eyes flew open, and she shot up to a sitting position. Dean’s bronzed face filled her television screen. “The best drive I ever had wasn’t with my Callaway; it was on Dunlop tires,” he said.
What in the world? That couldn’t really be Dean, could it? It had to be someone who sounded like him. She rubbed her eyes and leaned forward on the sofa. The man on the television had deep crow’s-feet that her Dean didn’t have; instead of a buzz cut, his hair was long enough to curl; and he was more muscular than the Dean she knew. Still, she was sure it was Dean. She’d recognize him anywhere. She blinked hard, trying to make sense of it. Why was he doing tire commercials? From the screen, he pointed at her. “Tell them Dean Amato sent you.” Then he vanished. Mary stared at the television as if she were waiting for Dean to walk through the screen into her apartment. She wished he would.
He’d kissed her for the first time in this very room. It was their first official date. He was early, and she wasn’t dressed. He waited on the couch, flipping through the latest issue of People . “This is the sexiest man alive? Please.” He’d held up the cover with Patrick Swayze on it. “I have it all over this guy.” He dropped the magazine on the coffee table and stood to help Mary with her jacket. After she’d slipped her arms through the sleeves, he pulled her toward him. His eyes met hers before slowly dropping to her lips. He leaned closer and kissed her. Mary’s knees gave out and she stumbled, falling into him. “What did I tell you?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me.” She could barely hear herself speak over her pounding heart. It was the best kiss of her life. As they drove to the restaurant and shared a meal, she couldn’t concentrate on a thing he said. She couldn’t wait for his mouth to be on hers again. At the end of the night, when he walked her back up the stairs, their second kiss outdid the first.
She knew then she wanted a lifetime of kisses just like it.
Frank Sinatra’s barking interrupted her memory. A few minutes later, she heard music and laughter coming from downstairs. At that moment, Mary missed Dean more than she had at any moment in either of her lives. When she got back, she would work hard to recapture that magic they’d once shared, starting by telling him how abandoned she felt when he left her to play golf every weekend. She’d come up with a list of activities they could enjoy together. She touched her lips, imagining him kissing her like he had on their first date.
After Mary saw Dean on television, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Why was he doing tire commercials? What did his life look like without her? Did he have a wife and children? If he did, would he have them when she returned to her real life? There was a pit in her stomach. She had to learn more. She had so many questions. Sitting on the sofa, she opened her laptop. Her hands hovered over the keyboard. The cursor blinked in the empty search bar as Darbi’s warning came back to her. Bad things will happen. Maybe she shouldn’t enter Dean’s name. She clenched and unclenched her fist.
She’d seen James in person and spoken to Liz on the phone, and nothing bad had happened. She worked with Carl. Darbi didn’t know what she was talking about. She’d admitted herself that she didn’t have all the answers. Mary paced her apartment. Downstairs, Brady’s door squeaked open and slammed shut. She peeked out the window into the darkness and saw him walking the dog down the driveway, a flashlight illuminating his path. She sat back down and began typing. Her trembling fingers tapped the wrong letters. She started over but unknowingly hit the S key instead of the D . Turned out there were plenty of Sean Amatos. On the third try, she correctly typed Dean Amato .
Her mouth went dry and her chest tightened as the screen filled with pages of pictures and articles. She clicked on the Images tab to ensure the results were for her Dean. She enlarged a photograph and leaned closer to her monitor. Her heart cracked open. There stood the man who had been her husband, his puckered lips grazing his putter. She’d seen him kiss his club just like that several times when he and Kendra had faced off on the green in their backyard.
“Hey, Mary, what chore do you want Kendra to do for the week when I win?” Dean would ask.
“Hey, Mom, where should Dad take us for dinner tomorrow if I win?” Kendra always responded.
She’d usually win, because unlike Mary, Dean let her.
The memory was bittersweet. Her eyes filled with tears as she felt an acute sense of homesickness. All she wanted to do was hug Kendra, but Kendra didn’t exist in this world, and somewhere in another universe they were bickering. Wait, was there another version of her, and was she making things worse with her family? Mary had to get back and make things right.
Outside, Frank Sinatra barked, and Brady hushed him.
Mary scrolled to a photo of Dean hitting out of a sand trap at Augusta with large crowds looking on. She clicked on another picture. In this one, Dean looked right at her with a smug expression. I did it, he seemed to be saying.
Caressing the image on her screen with her index finger, she smiled and spoke aloud. “Yes, you did.” He’d made his dream come true. He was a professional golfer. Her smile faded. The spaces in her mouth where her wisdom teeth used to be throbbed. A wave of guilt rushed over her. Why couldn’t you do it when you were with me? Did I hold you back?
She continued scrolling through the images. In all of them, Dean’s thick brown hair covered the top of his ears, showing off his luscious curls. He’d worn it that way when they were dating. After they got married and he’d been promoted a few times, he started to get buzz cuts. She’d always thought the longer hair suited him better, and the crew cuts were necessitated by a corporate role he was forced to play. Did he do that for her? To provide for their family?
He’d never complained about his corporate job, and through the years she’d forgotten that, until he’d met her, he’d planned to make his living on the golf course. Maybe “forgot” wasn’t the right word. She’d chosen not to think about the sacrifices he’d made for their family. Dean’s voice popped into her head, a memory from long ago. This sales associate job is just a way to make ends meet until I turn pro. It was their first date. They sat at a picnic table in Ipswich eating lobster rolls, and he told her about his dream of becoming a professional golfer. I know the odds are against me, but I’m going to make it.
She’d believed him. He’d already made a name for himself on the amateur circuit. Now she felt a lump in her throat, and her face burned with shame. When did Dean give up his dream of playing in the PGA? Why hadn’t she encouraged him to keep trying? She’d always thought she was the one who’d given up her dream for their family, but Dean, too, had made sacrifices. Unlike her, he’d never complained. She wanted to hug him. Thank him.
Her foot fell asleep from sitting on the sofa with her leg folded under her for too long. She stood, trying to stop the feeling of being pricked by pins and needles. By now, it was after two in the morning. There was no noise coming from downstairs or out on the street. She strolled to her refrigerator and pulled a Milky Way from the crisper, savoring each bite of the sweet chocolate and gooey caramel, a treat she’d rarely allowed her fifty-something self. Her eyelids felt heavy and her mind cloudy. She hoped the rush of sugar would jolt her awake.
Returning to the couch, she began reading articles.
Officials Strip Amato of US Open Victory in Dubious Grounding Call
Sheboygan, WI—For a brief moment, Dean Amato believed he’d accomplished something he never had before in his 22-year pro golfing career: won a major, specifically the US Open. He finished five under, one stroke ahead of Jordy Maverick. Before Amato even had a chance to pump his fist in celebration, however, officials notified him that he was being penalized two strokes for grounding his club in the most contentious ruling ever at the US Open.
The controversy centered around Amato’s second shot on the 495-yard par 4 hole from a sandy stick-laden patch of dirt far left of the fairway and inconsistent with the typical positioning of bunkers. Nevertheless, the area was considered a bunker, and the rules prohibit players from grounding their clubs in bunkers, clearly stating that if they do, they will be penalized two strokes.
A stunned Amato argued with officials before storming off the green. He left the course without speaking to the media and has yet to comment.
Maverick, who was awarded the victory, said Amato’s penalty surprised him. “I had no idea the area was a bunker. I thought the crowd had battered down the ground. It’s not how I wanted to win.”
Mary didn’t know enough about golf to understand the controversy. She did know winning the US Open was a big deal, and her heart broke for Dean. The next articles were op-eds from sports columnists, some defending Dean and others claiming he’d cheated. The Dean she knew would never cheat. That she was sure of. Next there was an article announcing Dean’s retirement and that he refused to talk to the press, stating that he’d turned down interview requests from ESPN, Sports Illustrated , Jimmy Kimmel, and Jimmy Fallon. That certainly didn’t sound like the Dean she knew. He was almost always accommodating, hating to disappoint anyone—especially her. As soon as the thought popped into her head, she knew it was true, and her stomach twisted with guilt. She’d never sat him down to talk about how unhappy she was. She’d never told him what she’d needed from him. Instead, she’d mentioned it at inopportune times, when he was just leaving or getting back from golf. She hadn’t been fair, blaming him for her unhappiness, when he would have tried to help her if he’d known. She glanced at her phone. She wanted to pick it up and call Dean, have the conversation they should have had before she had her wisdom teeth out, but of course she couldn’t. I’ll make things right as soon as I get back.
She continued reading about Dean’s life in this alternate world.
Amato’s Poor Putting on the 18th Hole Costs Him the Green Jacket
Amato Forces Sudden Death at the PGA Championship but Chokes Away the Opportunity
Tendinitis of the Shoulder Keeps Amato out of the Ryder Cup
Dean Amato Gets Cozy with Julia Roberts
Mary’s hand froze on the mouse. She enlarged the photo. Sure enough, a thirtyish Dean sat next to the famous actress at an outdoor table. He sipped a beer, gazing at his date with a devilish grin. With her hand resting on his arm, Julia was turned sideways, beaming at him. Mary clenched her teeth as she glared at the beautiful actress. Dean had always put up a stink when Mary asked him to go to the movies, unless Julia Roberts starred in it. Then he’d even been willing to watch the movie again and again once it became available on streaming services.
From a story written in 2009, she learned Dean lived in Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida. She frowned. Her Dean hated Florida, referred to it as a cultural wasteland. Why would this Dean choose to live there? What if he lived there without her when she got back?
Mary kept reading about Dean. Nothing she read referenced a wife or family. In 2010, People magazine named the then forty-four-year-old one of the ten most eligible bachelors in the world. She watched a clip of an interview of him on the Today show. “I have to ask you, Dean,” Savannah Guthrie said with a smile, “women all over the world swoon over you, so why is it you’ve never married?”
“Swoon?” Dean laughed and looked directly in the camera. “I’m married to the game, Savannah. Married. To. The. Game.”
A ray of sun streaked through the blinds. How could it be morning already? Mary had never left the sofa or slept. Her brain was shutting down, making her mind foggy. Reading all these articles about Dean made her long for news about her daughter. Recognizing on some level that what she was doing didn’t make sense, she typed Kendra’s name into the Google search bar. Four different women with the name Kendra Amato came up in the results, and for a few seconds Mary was hopeful. One of the Kendras lived in Texas and appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties. Another, about Kendra’s age, lived in New Jersey and was Black. The third was a wiry White woman who’d run for mayor of Saint Louis. There was no image for the fourth, but the article indicated that this Kendra lived in Alaska and was training for the Iditarod, a dogsled race.
Every year, Hudson High posted a picture of the graduating class on Facebook. Mary’s leg bounced as she navigated to the school’s page and clicked on a photograph from the year her daughter graduated high school. She knew exactly where her Kendra stood in the picture, between Quinlan Adams and Josslyn Bartolini, but in the photo she looked at now, Quinlan and Josslyn stood next to each other, without Kendra between them. The hairs on the back of Mary’s neck stood. Her entire body shook. She’d known from the moment she’d seen that picture on Darbi’s wall that she was living in a world without Kendra, but being directly confronted with evidence of that gutted her. What if something happened to Mary in this alternate world and she couldn’t get back to her other life? Would that mean Kendra had never existed? Or would it mean Mary would spend all eternity knowing she and her daughter were on the outs? She’d been so foolish, so selfish to stay here. She had to go back. Right now.
She reached for her phone and scrolled to her cousin’s name. The call went straight to voicemail. She tried Jacqui next, but Jacqui didn’t answer either. They were probably still sleeping. It wasn’t quite six yet. Mary stood and stretched. She would go to Darbi’s house and wake her. Pound on the door until she answered. She had to. This was too important.