Chapter 32
Athena
“You can’t control where or how others hit their balls, but you can choose how to play your own, and sometimes walking away is how you win the game.”
—Eloisa Hobby
The nine-hole golf course (which they would play twice for the tournament) sprawled in front of them, an expanse of serene green.
A gentle breeze rustled through the jacaranda trees, carrying with it the scent of freshly mown grass and the happy chirp of birds. The temperature, a balmy seventy-two degrees, sent fluffy clouds floating across the sky. It was the kind of morning that inspired poets to pen odes.
And Athena wanted to wail because Demetra wasn’t here to see it.
The bleachers near the first tee hummed with energy as spectators took their seats.
Friends, family, and a smattering of guests who had arrived for the charity event exchanged smiles and greetings.
Eloisa distributed commemorative sun visors to the attendees, her bright laughter cutting through the murmuring crowd.
Near the first tee box, Reid stood a little apart from the action, his camera in hand as he narrated an intro for his vlog.
Calista was by the practice green, adjusting the strap of her golf bag.
She looked like her old self in a fresh polo and tailored Bermuda shorts, but the nervous energy radiating off her made her seem like a child wearing too-big clothes.
Gavin was at the tee, testing his club. He glanced up, caught Athena’s gaze, and gave her a reassuring smile. His calmness lent her courage, and she smiled back.
Reid walked over to Calista, put his arm around her waist, and drew her close to whisper something in her ear. Her sister laughed out loud at whatever he’d said and Athena’s affection for the man surged.
Guests mingled and golfers practiced their swings under the morning sun, the atmosphere light with camaraderie and excitement for the day ahead.
Then, suddenly, the buzz died. Conversations faltered midsentence, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. Heads turned as a golf cart pulled up near the first tee.
Athena’s pulse reeled, stuttered, and for one wild second, stopped as the golf cart driver disembarked.
Benjamin Dempsey.
He strode forward with his trademark swagger, his every step exuding a sense of entitlement that made Athena’s skin crawl.
Dressed in a pristine polo shirt and pressed khakis, he looked like he’d stepped out of a high-end golf catalog, complete with his caddie trailing dutifully behind him, lugging an unnecessarily large and expensive bag of clubs.
Stunned by his audacity in coming here, Athena froze.
The sharp intake of breath from someone nearby mirrored Athena’s own reaction. Her muscles locked, a flash of disbelief flooding her. Of course Benjamin would arrive unannounced. Of course he’d find a way to insert himself into an event meant to honor the woman he’d spent years undermining.
“Viewers, it seems we have an unexpected guest.” Reid’s voice was dry as stale bread. “Benjamin Dempsey himself, a divisive figure in the golfing world. For those just joining, this tournament is a tribute to Demetra Sarris, Benjamin’s ex-wife and mother of reigning LPGA champion Athena Dempsey.”
Reid filmed Benjamin as he turned toward the gathered crowd, his smile as polished and insincere as a cheap trophy. “Athena, darling. And Calista, my angel.”
Athena darted a look at Calista, who stood rigid, jaw hanging open, eyes vacant as if experiencing a PTSD flashback.
Reid, always quick on his feet, stepped closer to Calista, his free hand brushing her elbow in a protective gesture. He nodded at Athena and silently mouthed, I’ve got her.
“This is supposed to be a tribute to Mamá,” Athena muttered under her breath. Her eyes narrowed as Benjamin scanned the crowd, soaking in the attention like a star actor on opening night. “You’re not wanted.”
“I was invited.” He flashed a fake smile.
Eloisa had invited him?
Stunned, Athena turned on her heel and marched over to Eloisa.
“Hello, my dear.” Eloisa beamed at her. Today, the older woman wore a marigold-orange polo shirt and matching golf skirt with a gingersnap-colored tweed golfer’s cap. “Excited?”
“What is he doing here?” Her voice shook with barely contained anger. “Why did you let him get off the ferry?”
Tension lined Eloisa’s eyes and Athena recognized her own turmoil reflected back at her. “Athena, I know this is a shock—”
“A shock? It’s an ambush!” She raised her voice, drawing curious glances. She couldn’t muster the energy to care. Let them look. Let them see. Maybe if enough people witnessed the truth, it would finally stick.
Eloisa rested a gentle hand on her arm. “Demetra wanted to give him a chance to make amends. For you and Calista, not for him. She believed people could change.”
Athena jerked away, her laugh sharp enough to cut steel. “Change? Him? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
How many chances had they given Benjamin over the years? How many times had hope risen, only to be crushed under the weight of his cruelty and indifference? Her stomach churned. Her mother’s endless capacity for hope and forgiveness felt both inspiring and maddening in equal measure.
She glanced over her shoulder. Benjamin was chatting with a spectator, his head thrown back in laughter as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Seething, she gritted her teeth.
“This isn’t about forgiving him, Athena,” Eloisa said, her tone brooking no argument. “It’s about showing him—and yourselves—that he no longer has the power to hurt you.”
“Fine.” She glowered at the unflappable senior citizen. “But if he so much as looks at Calista wrong, I’m throwing him off this course myself.”
Eloisa nodded, approval in her eyes. “Understood. Now, take a deep breath and remember why we’re here today.”
Athena closed her eyes, hauling in a massive amount of fresh air to center herself, and conjured Demetra, her laugh like summer rain, fragrant with the scent of lavender, her ability to infuse even the darkest day with possibility. Okay, Mamá, if this is your wish, I’m here for it.
Dot, resplendent in a lime-green visor and matching outfit, took her place at the podium near the first tee. She spun the handle of a bingo cage, releasing a numbered ball that clattered into a tray and announced the foursome pairing. “Numbers 6, 13, 22, and 17. You four are up first.”
The first competitors, whose entry numbers were pinned to the backs of their shirts, moved toward the first tee box. Athena knew all of them from either the PGA or LPGA and forced a smile in greeting as they walked past.
Reid followed the foursome and got short interviews with each player.
Dot kept pulling numbers and calling them out as one after another, players teamed up. Athena moved to stand beside her sister, shoulders ironed straight, eyes locked on Benjamin. As long as neither she nor Calista got stuck with him, they’d be okay.
One after another, the players were matched up until only four were left—Gavin, Athena, Calista, and Benjamin.
Was this intentional? Athena stabbed Eloisa with a look. Unruffled, the older woman simply shrugged and held out her arms in an it wasn’t me gesture that suggested it totally was her doing.
Calista made a soft noise of despair and twisted her fingers in the hem of her polo shirt, an emotional “tell” left over from childhood.
“Don’t worry,” Gavin said, stepping over. “I’m here.”
Calista sent him a look of such gratitude and relief it broke Athena’s heart.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Benjamin strolled over, his faux nice face fixed in place, the hapless caddie loping along behind him. “Just like old times, eh, girls?”
Athena bit back a retort. She refused to let him burrow under her skin.
Reid’s voice filtered through the crowd.
“And there you have it, folks,” he said, his phone perched on a stabilizer as he walked beside their group.
“The final foursome of the day is shaping up to be one for the books. We’ve got PGA legend Gavin Gonzales, LPGA phenom Athena Dempsey, and Calista Dempsey, making her long-awaited return to the game.
Oh, and let’s not forget Benjamin Dempsey, whose, uh . . . reputation precedes him.”
Athena shot him a grateful glance. Reid gave a small nod, his way of saying he had their backs. She could feel him nearby, steady as a caddie who knew when to step in and when to let the player handle the moment alone. Then again, he had been Gavin’s caddie once.
After the group in front of them reached the green, their foursome gathered at the first tee. Gavin took the lead, stepping up with an easy confidence that belied the tense moment. He swung smoothly, sending the ball sailing down the fairway.
“Nice shot,” Reid commented, his voice carrying just enough admiration to make it into the vlog.
Benjamin stepped up next, his movements practiced and precise. He smirked as his ball landed a few yards beyond Gavin’s.
Athena suppressed an eye roll. Of course he’d have to one-up Gavin.
As she prepared to take her shot, she felt her father’s gaze boring into her.
“Focus, Athena,” Calista murmured, her sister’s voice steadying her.
She drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and swung. The satisfying crack of the club meeting the ball sent a small surge of confidence through her. The ball arced, landing right beside Benjamin’s.
“Nice swing, Athena.” His voice slithered into her ear, dousing her small spark of joy. “You’ve improved. Maybe one day you’ll be a better golfer than Calista.”
Ouch. The gloves were off. She was unaccustomed to his derision he’d mainly saved for her sister. Fine. She turned and curled her upper lip at him in a sneer. “Maybe one day you’ll become a decent human being, but I’m not holding my breath.”
Benjamin laughed. Darn it! She was giving him narcissistic supply like she’d read about. Note to self, don’t feed the troll. Athena turned away.
It was Calista’s turn.
“You’ve got this,” Gavin said, his voice filled with encouragement.