Page 22 of Summer Ever After
“Walker, please tell me you didn’t come here to talk about the temperature outside.”
I don’t really know why I came. It just felt like the right thing to do, and the retirement home is next door to the mechanic shop where I need to pick up Stan’s boat. It would be cruel to be that close to my grandma and not say hi. Plus, Jane told me to visit Deedee, so I did.
“We can talk about whatever you want.” I shrug. “I’m justhere to catch up.”
She places her wrinkly hands in her lap. “Well, then, what happened to that Lucy girl?” Her brows drop as she thinks. “Laura? Lacy? Lori?”
“Lydia,” I remind her.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“We broke up a month ago.” Apparently, me breaking my driver on national television was the last straw for her. Or maybe it was my pitiful performance at the tournament.
“Good. I didn’t like her much.”
“You didn’t even know her.”
“And whose fault is that?” Her lips purse as she gives me a stern look.
“There was never a reason for you two to meet. We weren’t that serious.”
“She thought you were serious—the way she was bouncing up and down at your golf tournaments the past two years, boobs flying everywhere. People should’ve yelled, ‘Fore!’ to warn the bystanders next to her so they didn’t get whacked in the face.” She clucks, shaking her head. “Oh, but the TV cameras loved zooming in on her whenever you hit the ball. Was I watching golf or a Hooters commercial?”
I stifle my laugh. “Lydia is a very nice woman. We just wanted different things.”
“Yeah, she wanted your fame and money,” she mutters loud enough for me to hear. “That’s what your mother said after meeting her.” She zips her lips like she’s not saying anything more.
I wasn’t naive to the fact that Lydia wanted the version of me she’d first met—the man who won the Masters, was ranked in the top fifty in the world, and was a contender in every tournament. But the further away I got from that, the more things unraveled between us. She was tired of dating a loser—her words, not mine.
It’s not like I saw forever in her eyes. Lydia was just something to do, a person to have on the sidelines cheering, a distraction to keep me from thinking about how unhappy I was. But it still stung a little when she broke up with me. Everything stings lately.
“Forget about her,” I say, perking my smile. “How are you feeling?”
“No, how areyoufeeling? How’s your back?”
It’s proving impossible to get Grandma Deedee to talk about herself.
“My back feels better than it has in a year. I’m doing great.” My gigantic smile adds further proof of that.
She leans forward, grilling me with her light eyes. “You snapped a golf club in half on national television.”
“I didn’t snap it in half. The driver head just broke off.”
“Is that tantrum why you’re here in Sunset Harbor and not on a course somewhere getting ready for the U.S. Open next week? Were you suspended?”
“No!” I gripe. “I got a slap on the wrist.”In the form of a five-thousand-dollar fine.
“So you are playing in the U.S. Open?”
I lift my baseball cap, combing my fingers through my hair before fitting it over my head again. “No, I’m going to sit this one out.”
“Why? Because you lost your cool and made a fool of yourself?”
“No, I’m just not ready. I need to figure out a few things with my swing. I’m having Pete take a look while I’m in town.”
“You can still play in the U.S. Open while you’re working on your swing.”
“With how I’ve been playing, I wouldn’t even make thecut. It would be a wasted week when I could be improving my game.”
