Chapter 21
Harrison really did like the Bossy Posse, even if he felt like there was only so much more he could take.
When he and Amy returned from the café—and what a ride home that had been—they were hardly given a moment to breathe before they were roped into playing a game of Cards Against Humanity.
That’s when he began to feel like he was surfing on a sea of estrogen.
But as much as his head hurt from so many women talking over each other at once (the pitch of their voices had reached a level not known to man, he was certain), he realized that deep down, this was the sort of thing he wished he could come home to after tournaments.
To warmth and laughter. To good times and good food.
It wasn’t a crowd he would ever have imagined for himself, but it was the crowd he needed just now.
He watched Amy try and play a response to What are my parents hiding from me? and finally lay down a card that said, The true meaning of Christmas.
Everyone stopped and stared at the card. “I don’t get it,” Carol said. “Why would you play that card?”
“Because it was either that or Poor life choices,” Amy said. “And I thought, given the current state of affairs, this was the better choice.” She shrugged.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Barb demanded. “You think your father and I have made poor life choices?”
“No,” Amy said. “But you are proving my point by taking it the wrong way.”
“Well Poor life choices makes more sense than The true meaning of Christmas,” her mother sniffed.
Amy looked helplessly at Harrison. He gave her a reassuring smile.
As much as he liked the Bossy Posse, he liked Amy so much better.
He would really like to kiss her, make love to her again.
She knew her way around a man’s body, and he appreciated that immensely.
Unfortunately, there was something about her mother being in a room just upstairs that gave him the creeps.
Mostly, he wanted to talk to her. About Scotland, about what he would say to Clay.
He wanted to ask her what she thought about the world in which people were either big on board games or didn’t care for them.
And how sometimes, when he was with a bunch of golfers on tour, he felt like he was living in a frat house well past his prime; and really, what did her older son have against the younger son’s friend?
He just wanted to talk to her.
But he didn’t get the chance that night. When everyone turned in, Amy’s mother caught her in the hall and was talking in a low voice. It sounded important, and Harrison thought he shouldn’t interrupt.
The next morning was Carol’s turn in the kitchen, and she made gingerbread pancakes. One thing was certain—if the Posse stuck around much longer, he was going to gain weight. His willpower was nonexistent with their offerings.
The sleet had picked up, and there was a thin layer of ice on the railings outside.
Carol informed Harrison that they were expecting another grocery delivery.
The news caught him by surprise—the kitchen was groaning with food.
Just how long were these women planning to stay, anyway?
Didn’t they have families that needed them?
Christmas that wasn’t quite ready? Perhaps even a job?
He was sitting at the bar eating pancakes when Hillary shuffled in, wearing pajamas, confirming his suspicion that she had moved in, too.
“Well?” Carol asked immediately. “Did you call him?”
“I did,” Hillary said, sliding onto a barstool next to Harrison.
“And?”
“And…it was interesting,” Hillary said. “He tried the not-right-now excuse. But he didn’t say never.”
“Yeah, well, I see someone who wants to have his cake and eat it, too,” Carol said firmly. “What do you think, H?”
“Umm…what do I think about…?”
“Tony. He’s leading her on.”
Harrison looked at Hillary. “You know what I think? I think I’m going to take Amy some coffee.”
“Well waddle on down to the studio then, Mr. Chicken,” Carol said cheerfully.
“I think I will.” Harrison got up, came around into the kitchen with his plate, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. He poured a cup of coffee then turned to Carol. “Thank you for the pancakes. And for your information, chickens aren’t misters.”
“No? Because you’re a chicken and you’re a mister. Oh, and you won’t find Amy in the studio. She and her dog went to the store.”
“To the store?”
“That’s what she said. So apparently, you do have time to give us your thoughts on Tony.” She smiled smugly.
“Nope,” he said, and dumped the coffee in the sink. “Gotta work on my knee.”
“That’s the spirit, H!” Hillary said.
On the covered patio, even with the heat lamps blazing, the air was cold and brittle. He wasn’t going to lie—it felt like snow was coming. Harrison pulled out his mat and his exercise bands and began to work his knee.
He discovered quickly that he couldn’t really concentrate on the knee because he was beginning to obsess about his life. Change was hard, he knew that it was. But was he putting off the inevitable?
He needed to talk to someone, and as Amy wasn’t here, he’d have to find someone else.
When it got too cold, he grabbed a blanket, sat himself in a chair on the covered patio, and called his caddy. Jake answered after three rings and sounded out of breath, as if he’d sprinted for the phone. “Hey, Harrison. What’s up?”
Harrison could hear kids playing in the background. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Nah, man. I’m watching the kids today so my wife can work. We’re wrapping a few presents. What are you up to?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just bored and wanted to talk.”
“Ah. Hang on, will you?” Jake said. He moved the phone away from his mouth and said something to one of the kids. Then, “So you’re going to Scotland, right?”
Harrison blinked. “How do you know about Scotland?”
“Clay called me. Said I should encourage you.”
Harrison’s pulse picked up a beat or two. Was there any boundary Clay would not cross? “He did, huh?”
“Yep. Clay and I are friendly, you know that.”
Harrison knew that, but he’d hoped Clay’s friendship with Jake didn’t include his existential crisis.
“For what it’s worth, I told him that was his job,” Jake added. “I’m not here to influence you. Those are decisions the two of you have to make.”
“Thank you,” Harrison said. How refreshing that at least his caddy understood that. He would be happy to point that out to Clay.
“But it does raise the question—when are we getting back out there, chief?”
Harrison wished he had an answer for Jake—he deserved to know. “I’m struggling to make a decision, to be honest.” He debated telling Jake that he was in the throes of what could only be described as a midlife crisis and didn’t know what he wanted from his life right now or in the future.
Jake said, “You know…if you’re going to take more time off, I might need to partner with someone else.”
Harrison was taken aback. This was the first time Jake had ever said anything like that.
It was the first time he’d expressed any opinion at all about Harrison’s injury time-out.
He never said anything but “take all the time you need.” Of course they had talked about it, and Harrison had made sure Jake was made whole while he was recuperating.
“What are you talking about?” Harrison asked. “We’ve been together forever.”
“Yeah, but, dude, I’ve got to make a living here—I’ve got three kids. And, well…Thad Villeroy sort of hit me up.”
Villeroy? The same Thad Villeroy who’d won the Phoenix Open for a cool 1.
6 million dollars? That snake. Okay, he wasn’t a snake—Harrison didn’t know him to be anything other than a nice guy and an up-and-coming athlete.
He was young and hungry, and perhaps most important, he was winning.
That would be key for Jake—the bigger the purse a golfer won, the bigger the caddy’s cut.
It made all the sense in the world to hook his wagon to the winners.
“Are you…have you decided to go with him?” Harrison asked, trying to keep the disbelief from his voice.
“Nah, Harrison, not if you’re coming back. Dude, I’m your ride or die. We’re in too deep for me to jump ship for no reason. But if you’re not coming back, it would be better if I knew sooner rather than later.”
Harrison was suddenly developing a pain in his right temple and rubbed it. “I understand. When do you need to know?”
“Well…before the new year if at all possible.”
They were practically at the new year. “I’ll let you know,” he said simply. “Please don’t do anything without talking to me.”
“No, no, of course not. So what’s up? Going home to your folks?”
“Folks are on a cruise,” Harrison said, and filled him in on where he was.
He told him about Hillary Green, which had Jake howling with laughter at the audacity of Clay to send her.
They talked about Scotland, the pros and cons of taking a week at the first of the year instead of training, and both agreed that while it was good, easy money, it was not an easy trip.
Harrison wished him a merry Christmas and ended the call.
He stared almost blindly at the pool and the wisps of heat rising from its surface.
If he lost Jake…it would be like starting over.
Caddies and golfers found a rhythm in working together, and it wasn’t that easy to find a replacement.
Sometimes, players went through several caddies before they found one that clicked.
He felt too old to be going through that process again. Without Jake, he…
Well, he didn’t know what. He would add that to the list of things he had no answer for.
It was getting colder. He got up and went inside and found the whole gang, minus Amy, assembled in the kitchen. They were chattering and banging around, taking out bowls and putting them back. He heard the phrase “cookie wars.” He paused, caught Barb’s eye.