Page 43 of Summer Ever After
“Don’t you have neighbors or friends in Jupiter?”
“The only people I know who live by me are other pro golfers. I see them at the training facility and at the golf course. We’re all friends, but besides surface-level conversations, we keep to ourselves.”
Jane’s entire expression drops. “That sounds boring and lonely.”
That’s the second time I’ve heard Jane talk about loneliness. I’m starting to think being alone is a thing for her—a thing she doesn’t like.
“You have to understand golf is a very selfish sport. I’m not part of a team. Everything is about me—what kind of physical and mental state I’m in, what my swing looks like, and when and how I want to compete. So being alone is part of what I do.”
“That’s not true. What about your coach and caddie? Aren’t they part of your team?”
“In a way, but their entire world revolves around me, adding to my selfishness. That’s why I like my own space with my own people. Living in Sunset Harbor would never work for me.”
“I love it here.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear to keep it from blowing in the wind. “I like that everyone on the island is one big family with a shared history. They have my back, and I have theirs. I wouldn’t want to live any other way.”
“So I take it moving away is out of the question?”
“Yep.” Her chin lifts as she watches the road. “I plan on being buried here when I’m old and gray.”
There’s something about Jane’s statement that depresses me—like the final nail in the coffin on why we aren’t compatible, even though I kind of wish we were.
She turns down the street to my grandma’s house. I guess it’s actually Tala and Heath’s house now—a weird change I’m not quite used to.
The cart slows to a stop in front. A sense of calmness washes over me as I stare at the blue two-story. That’s not the feeling I would’ve expected. I’ve always labeled this part of my life as the dark years, but now that I’m back, more happy memories than sad ones pop into my head—evidence that life wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be in my mind.
I can see the patch in the front lawn where grass still doesn’t grow because I putted in that spot over and over, dents in the garage door where I accidentally hit golf balls into it, and the old basketball hoop where my mom would attempt to shoot hoops with me because she knew that was what my dad would’ve done.
For the past few years, I’ve been so focused on winning and being one of the top golfers in the world that I’veforgotten who I really am, but these memories ground me in a way nothing else has lately.
“Walker?” Jane’s brows are raised at me. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah.” I grab my clubs.
“I’m just going to walk inside.”
“Walk inside without ringing the doorbell?” And just like that, my stomach tenses again.
“Yeah, they’re expecting us.”
Jane walks up the front steps and opens the door, and the feeling of peace I had moments ago is replaced by anxiety. It’s been a few years since I’ve been at a family dinner like this, and I’m to blame for that. I just need to get through the evening so I can check offvisiting familyon my list of things to do while in Sunset Harbor. Tonight’s performance should buy me a few more years of being absent.
Voices and chatter carry to us as we make our way to the kitchen.
“Hello! Hello!” Jane waves at everyone.
Tala’s oldest daughter, Serenity, runs to Jane, hugging her leg while I stand there awkwardly. I’m the uncle. She probably should be hugging my leg, but I doubt she even remembers who I am.
“You guys made it.” Tala walks to me with outstretched arms and a smile. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” The hug is short while I try to come up with something else to say. Thankfully, Heath saves the day by coming in for a bro hug.
“It’s good to have you home.”
“Yeah, it’s been a long time.” I glance around at their kids. “I can’t believe how big Serenity and Jack are.”
“Don’t forget about Lucas.” Jane leans over the side of the baby carrier, kissing his pudgy cheek.
“Yeah.” I point to the kid. “Cute baby.”
