12. Grace #2
I always confused German Alexanders and Russian Aleksandrs. She had a thing for Alexanders. But Jacqueline only married one of the Alexanders. The other one she shacked up with in Jackson Hole for eight months, leaving Julia and me with Beatrice, who was our live-in housekeeper at the time.
I’d never forget the audible gasps from multiple people in the room.
The way they whispered and chattered, acting like they knew Julia and our family enough to cast the stones they did.
How they ostracized her, made her out to be a troubled teen, when in reality, she was a young girl coping with the dissolution of her parents’ marriage.
“I worked hard to please my mother. I didn’t want people to whisper behind my back like they did Julia’s.
I was too young to realize that no matter what I did, they would still talk.
Julia just made it easy for them. She truly didn’t care.
On the other hand, I cared too much,” I explained, and tried to shrug it off.
It was ironic that Jacqueline’s worst fear was me becoming like Julia, and Julia’s worst fear was me becoming like Jacqueline.
I looked away when I felt the heaviness on my chest once more.
“My mother and I are going through a rough patch. She doesn’t approve of, well, she doesn’t approve of me right now. ”
Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked confused and sad. Like he couldn’t grasp the concept.
“That’s a damn shame. No parent should make a child feel like that.
Parents are supposed to be their kid’s biggest cheerleader.
A pillar of support,” he went on, his eyes shining with such conviction.
“Sorry, I don’t want to bad-mouth your mother.
It’s just, I think you’re pretty great. What’s not to approve of? ” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m no saint. I’ve done some pretty questionable things.
Put her through the wringer for sure. But I wish she’d see me.
See what I need versus what she thinks I need.
I’m starting to realize I can’t be the person she wants me to be.
I don’t know if she can accept that…” I trailed off and took a deep breath.
Thankfully, the panic seemed to be at bay for the time being.
“All right, enough with the heavy. Let’s get on with this bet,” I blurted, hoping Caleb would let me drop this.
The bet was pointless. I had no coordination whatsoever, and Caleb seemed naturally good at everything.
If he had the least number of strokes, I had to work a shift at Bar.
If I scored the “lowest,” he had to try escargot.
Mini golf scoring was weird.
Now with my nerves, I could only imagine how this was gonna go.
“Your turn, Fancy Pants.” Caleb smirked as he stepped out of the way to give me room to swing.
I tightened my grip on the golf club and focused on the hole. It couldn’t be so hard, right?
Steady. Steady. Swing.
“Ahh!” I shrieked. “I did it!” Like it was second nature, I launched myself into Caleb’s arms.
“That’s my girl!” He beamed with pride. It didn’t seem like he realized what he said. Or maybe he did, and I shouldn’t be interpreting it the way I was.
How I longed for that to be true. To be his. For him to be mine.
Focus, Grace!
Caleb gave me one more squeeze before lining up his form to putt the golf ball. Move over, pro golfers.
Just as the club swung into motion, Caleb’s wrist jerked and the ball went in the opposite direction of the hole.
“Fuck,” Caleb muttered.
“What happened?” I questioned, confused because he usually had such good focus.
He moved his wrist in a circular motion. “My wrist. It locks up on me from time to time. Must be from all those dirty martinis I make.” He laughed.
I elbowed him. “Well at least things are fair now.” I gripped his hand in mine, pulled his wrist up, and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on it.
“More like an unfair advantage,” Caleb muttered as he stroked my cheek and looked into my eyes, a twinkle shining in his.
After four more holes and more mishaps by Caleb, I was ahead.
I needed to make this hole and Caleb to miss his, and then I’d be the winner.
Lining up with the proper form, I looked across the pond that was in between me and my chance at claiming victory.
I said a silent prayer and swung. The golf ball rolled at a fast pace as it tumbled downhill.
Then, as it steadied onto the flat part of the AstroTurf, it slowed to a painful pace.
It looked as though it was barely moving.
I cringed, hoping it didn’t stop right in front of the hole.
Just as I thought it was going to stop, a gust of wind passed and it gave the ball the boost it needed.
“Oh my God!” I jumped up and down.
Caleb chuckled at my little performance, and I heard applause from behind me. A little boy was watching and decided to clap for me. Sweet.
“Your turn!” I shoved Caleb in the direction of the hole.
“Okay, okay.” He laughed but obliged and set up his shot.
He was a sexy fucker—I’d give him that.
Caleb swung the club faster than he had the other times. The golf ball glided along the hill, but it curved and went in the direction of the bridge. Slowly it rolled down, down, and into the water, landing with a splat.
“I can’t believe it! I won!” I gasped in disbelief.
Caleb held out his hand for me to shake as he offered his congratulations. Ignoring the gesture, I leaned in for a kiss because everybody deserved a celebratory kiss.
“Yeah, you won’t be kissing me after I eat those fucking snails,” he said with a chuckle, his smile breathtaking.
Yep, I’d definitely won, and it looked like at more than just mini golf.