Page 51 of Summer Ever After
I walk to the ball in its new spot and repeat the steps. This time, I hit it too hard, ringing it around the rim of the hole. It stops three feet away on the other side.
“You know what? Let’s just putt for par.” Pete glances at me with a smile, holding back his laugh.
“This isn’t funny.” I walk to the ball and gently tap it in the hole.
“It’s a little funny. You’re one of the best golfers in the world, and you can’t make a simple putt.”
“Iusedto be one of the best golfers in the world. That’s not true anymore.” I take a seat in the empty camp chair beside him, letting the shade and my bottle of water cool me down.
“It’s still true. But you have to believe it.” He leans forward, looking me in the eyes. “I’m being serious, Walker. There’s only so much I can do to help you. You have to do the rest yourself. You have to get out of your own way.”
“I can’t.” My head shakes as I shift my gaze to the dock stretching out in front of us and the tranquil water lapping around it. “I don’t know how.”
“That’s a bunch of bull crap.” Pete sits back, fed up with me. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Get up anddosomething.”
“Am I not doing stuff? I’m here in Sunset Harbor, practicing every day with you.”
“I’m not talking about golf. Your golf is fine.” He points to his head. “I’m talking about doing something for this.” His finger shifts to his heart. “And this. Until you take care of those two things, you’re never going to be the type of golfer you want to be.”
I want to say that I don’t know how to take care of my mind and my heart, but I don’t because Pete’s right. There’s only so much he can do to help me. I have to figure out the rest myself.
We sit in silence, our background music the sound of a distant lawn mower, the rumble of boat engines on the water, and the giggling next door from my niece and nephew as they play.
I don’t know why, but my mind travels to Jane and our conversation yesterday.
I told her about golf gut.
It’s not something I typically mention…ever.
I wish that was where it had ended, but for some idiotic reason, I went on and on about how I feel uncomfortable around my family.
Why did I do that?
Who am I kidding? I know why.
Jane makes talking easy. When I’m with her, I’m not constantly thinking of the perfect thing to say or just giving her what I think she wants to hear. I can just be me. There are very few people in my life who bring out that side of me—Pete and my caddie, Mick.
And now Jane.
I know what she’d tell me to do to fix my mind and my heart.
She’d tell me to fix my relationship with my family. She already said as much yesterday.
I glance over at the gate between Pete’s property and my grandma’s house—I mean, Tala’s house. They're all there right now—well, everyone except my mom and Stan. Tala sent a text this morning, saying that my grandma was coming over for Sunday dinner while Capri is in town. She invited me to come. I told her I couldn’t make it because of golf but that I’d try.
Jane’s words drift through my mind.
Try to spend more time with your family—rebuild the relationships you lost when your dad died.
Deep down, I wish that things were different, thatIcould be different around my family, that I could beme.I wish I could have a fresh start and not feel like I’ve already ruined my chances with all of them.
I know it sounds stupid, but I honestly don’t know how to do it.
“You’ll never know ‘til you try,” Pete says beside me.
I turn to him. “What?”
“You know you want to go over there and say hi to your family. So go.”
