Epilogue
Harrison left for Scotland the day after Christmas. He had a successful clinic, and it was written about in the local papers. His swing was good, his knee even better.
From there, he’d gone to the invitational, where he sank a massive, forty-foot putt uphill with a terrible lie and finished third. He watched the ball drop in the hole, heard the crowd roar, and looked up. The sun had just broken through the clouds. He considered it a sign. He was back.
His fiftieth birthday rolled around, and he flew Amy out to join him in Phoenix, where he was scheduled to play the next week.
She reported that Kevin had gotten a new job and had moved out, Jonah was looking forward to college, and Ethan and Connor were playing baseball. She said Connor had an arm.
A few days after his birthday, the World Wide Web decided it was a good time to remind him he was older, and a few articles began to pop up.
“When the Body Goes Before the Desire to Play,” “How Long Is Too Long on the Professional Tour?” And “The Senior PGA Sees a Swell in Ranks.” He played Phoenix and finished in the top twenty-five.
Clay said he was “cooking with grease” and was “showing those bros how the game is played.”
Amy said they would love to see him in Willow Valley, that his family wanted to celebrate his turning fifty. He didn’t tell Clay where he was going, but flew to Dallas on his way to Orlando to play in the Arnold Palmer Invitational.
The Casey family thought it would be great fun to host a party for him at Centennial Park. The Bossy Posse showed up with a pinata in the shape of the Grim Reaper. Harrison swung at it with abandon, and considered it a small victory that he didn’t reinjure his knee.
He finished in the top ten at the Arnold Palmer Invitational. That night, he called Clay and said he wasn’t going on to play The Players Championship in Ponte Vedra.
“What the hell?” Clay cried. “You’re playing lights out right now.”
“Yeah,” Harrison said, smiling to himself. “And that’s the way I want to go. On top. With my game in top shape. Not when I’m down and out. I’m ready to move on, Clay.”
“Listen, listen, listen,” Clay said. “Take some time. Think about it. Really think about it. Keep up with your game and in a month or so, we’ll get you back on tour. You’re not going to want to give this up, man.”
“Okay,” Harrison said. He didn’t want to argue, but in his heart, he’d already given it up.
He called Jake next and told him to talk to Thad Villeroy again. Thad had come in second in California. His game was hot.
And then he stayed in Willow Valley.
Some weeks later, he began teaching golf to anyone who wanted it.
His first customers were Amy’s dad and Ryan.
“Can’t beat ’em, you join ’em,” Ryan had said when he showed up with Bob.
Pretty soon, Harrison was giving golf lessons to a long list of people.
The board of the Craig Ranch club in McKinney, one of the best courses in Texas, were searching for a head pro.
They’d heard Harrison was nearby and asked Clay if he’d be interested in filling in until they could permanently fill the position.
“I told them you could fill in for two months, max; that you’d be back on tour after that. ”
“Sure,” Harrison said. Clay would never give it up. But he figured the temporary pro status gave him something to do while he worked out what was next for him.
When the Masters Tournament in Augusta, Georgia, rolled around in May, Jake texted Harrison to tell him Hillary had left the tour after she and Tony Cho had quite a fight at one of the player hotels. He hoped she was okay.
Harrison liked the job at the golf club.
He liked teaching kids, and he liked the old guys who came in to reminisce about when Arnold Palmer was king.
But mostly what he liked was having someone to go home to.
It was better than any tournament victory, better than any prize he could have won.
He’d known he wanted something like this, but he’d never appreciated just how much he needed it.
He didn’t play golf on the weekends anymore. He preferred to paint a fence or barbecue for Amy’s family, or wander around the quaint town of McKinney on weekends, holding Amy’s bag as she shopped.
As for Amy, she had a job she loved, her little backyard studio, her family, and the man of her dreams. No shade to Ryan.
Sometimes, she’d look across a table at Harrison or see him showing Jonah how to swing, and her heart would swell, and she’d almost pinch herself to know that this was true.
She got that guy. She was lucky she’d met Harrison at a time in her life she understood what she had found.
She and Ryan had been so young, so na?ve.
They couldn’t have possibly known what they really needed in a partner.
Amy liked tagging along with Harrison. She’d gone with him to watch a couple of tournaments, and even liked to go out to the golf course and ride around in a cart with him while he played.
Her painting was progressing. Only one of the Bossy Posse Christmases had sold, and she heard from Julie that Melissa had bought it.
But her new series, of the old woman puttering around a garden with her three little dogs, was doing well.
Amy was so happy. She was content. She had everything she could ever possibly need and more.
She and Harrison still lived with the uncertainty of what came next. They both seemed to be enjoying the new phase of their life and didn’t see the need to upset the apple cart. They had discussed the future in vague terms. Marriage and long-term commitment were terms they sort of bandied about.
But it was Ethan who forced the issue in a way. He’d spent the night with Connor, and the next night, at dinner, announced that Connor’s mother said his mom was living in sin.
“Excuse me?” Amy asked.
“You’re living in sin, Mom,” Ethan said. “Connor’s mom says you should be married before you live with someone.”
“To each his own,” Amy said. “Live and let live.”
“Huh? I thought you were married,” Jonah said.
Amy looked at her oldest son. “You think we’re married?”
Jonah nodded.
Amy stared at her son. “Don’t you think if we were married, we might have mentioned it? Maybe invited you to the ceremony?”
“I don’t know,” Jonah said with a shrug, and shoved a giant bite of taco casserole into his mouth.
“But why aren’t you married?” Ethan asked.
“Well,” Amy started, but Harrison felt a spark in him. It was time. He put his hand on her arm. “Allow me.”
“Sure,” she said, and gestured for him to speak.
“We aren’t married because I haven’t asked her yet.”
“That’s it?” Jonah said.
“That’s it.” Harrison turned to Amy.
Amy’s eyes widened. “Wait. What…”
“Amy?” He slid out of his chair and onto his knee.
“What are you doing? Not your knee! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Amy,” he said, and took her hand. “Will you marry me?” Jonah whooped. Ethan hit the table with his hands. “Mom!” he shouted, grinning.
Amy frowned at Harrison. “Is this a pity ask?”
“What? How did you get pity ask out of this grand gesture?”
“Because you felt pressured?”
“I do not feel pressured. I feel inspired. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to stand. My knee,” he said.
“Knew it,” Amy murmured.
Harrison stood up and pulled her to standing. “I’m sincere, Amy. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. So have you. You told me.”
“Well, yeah, but we were—”
“Look, I love you. I love you so much that sometimes I feel like I can’t hold it all in. I love the life here. I love these guys. I love everything about this house and your family and this life I am building with you. I even love the Bossy Posse.”
“Wow. That’s so weird,” Jonah offered.
“I would really like for you to marry me,” he said, taking her chin in hand and forcing her to look at him instead of the audience. “I need you. I need all of you.”
Amy blinked. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“God, Mom!” Jonah complained. “You’re so extra! Just say yes.”
“Yes,” Amy whispered. And then she grinned, threw her arms around his neck, and shrieked into his ear, “Yes!”
The house erupted into chaos, and somewhere, Duchess was barking at a wall.
That night, Amy and Harrison lay in bed, each wearing their reading glasses. Harrison on his phone, Amy with a book. She took his hand in hers. “Are you sure?”
“Stop asking,” he said without looking up.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
I never was so sure about Jake, or the ten-under I shot at Pebble Beach.
I was never so sure about golf or that the earth is round, or that I am great at barbecue.
I love you, Amy. I love you more than life. ”
“Well, I love you more.” She let go of his hand and returned to her book. And then, “You know, Christmas is coming up. Maybe we could tie the knot at the lake. At Christmas.”
Harrison looked up from his phone. “With piped-in music?”
“And giant nutcrackers.”
“And mistletoe everywhere.”
“And ugly Christmas sweaters. I saved them.”
“And the Bossy Posse cookie wars.”
She tossed her book aside and took off her glasses and crawled on top of him. “And we’ll rent the cabin and stay there with Duchess.”
Harrison tossed his phone and glasses aside and put his hands on her hips. “Whatever you want, babe. But that sounds like the perfect Christmas to me.”