Page 7 of Second Swing
Love you, I’m glad you’re back.
Clinton
Me too Selly.
Now all I need to do is settle in and get ready for the Albatross Charity Tournament. It's going to be a busy few months, but I know it will pay off. Especially once we get the first round of kids through Albatross. A faint smile creeps up my cheeks. Bringing golf to the youth of the neighborhoods I grew up in is a remarkable feeling.
Walking back inside, I walk to the entryway, knowing I saw my box of records there when I first walked into the condo. I slide one of my keys down the tape of the labeled box and pull out my record player before setting it on the console. I unpacked my latest obsession from the box, tucking it beneath my arm. I plug in the necessary cords and before I know it, the deep red vinyl ofMUTT Deluxe: HEELby Leon Thomas is playing through the speakers.
Time to get a few things unpacked and get settled into life back in Cypress Lake.
Back home.
4
Lou:Look at him. Walking in like he owns the place.
Chuck:Pretty sure he’s hoping she notices.
Lou:Oh, she notices. She’s just pretending she doesn’t.
Chuck:So, we’re doing that strategy. Ignore the problem until it tackles you in broad daylight.
My gaze is locked on no particular space as I zone out, drying the same glass for the last several minutes, stuck in the thought of how the kickback of my club felt connecting with the ball. Setting the glass down, I chuckle to myself at how boring I used to think golf was. I would have never considered it to be a sport I would love, but I do. It calms my nerves and clears my busy thoughts—kind of how running does. It’s been a little over a week since I went to the course, and I’m itching to go back.
Draping the towel over my shoulder, I walk over to the book club being hosted at Shaken Tropes. Opening this place with Cassidy was a dream, and working together has always been easy. I know some people say not to mix business with friendship, but I think it’s made our relationship stronger. We’ve never been scared to hold back from each other, but when people are exhausted, still have work to do with the weight of their responsibilities on their shoulders—it can be easy to get volatile orlash out, but it's not something we’ve ever done. We have grown closer and are more in tune with each other.
“Are you babes good over here?” I ask the group.
“Oh my goodness, Paloma, thank you for recommending this book! It has been…” She pauses, thinking about her next words before she smiles a devilish grin, “...fucking scorching hot, if I’m being honest.”
“Such a good read!” The redhead adds her two cents before the entire table is talking about how much they loved this spicy mafia romance.
“When he threw her over his shoulder and stormed out. ‘My wife. My wife,’” another mumbles, and I let them continue, allowing myself to fade away from their conversation, before I go back behind the bar.
“Holy crap, she's hot,” Brianna whispers in my ear.
“When did you even get behind me?” I question, swatting at her for scaring the shit out of me and almost causing me to drop a glass. For once, not being the klutz I am. “Who? Point her out, bitch!”
“Curls at twelve o’clock.”
“You and Janelle talk way too much. You sound just like her. Holy shit...sheishot.” A woman I can only describe as a vixen walks through the door. She’s easily five-foot nine inches with legs that last for days and long loose curls that hang down her back. Her skin is a deep golden brown, and when she makes eye contact with me—while I’m literally gawking at her—I notice the beautiful woman has the nerve to have hazel eyes.
“Hi there! I couldn’t pass up slipping into this place. It's so cool.” Her voice is light and delicate, much like her frame. She feels like a warm hug, and I immediately want to add her to our girl gang.
“Thank you. I’m Lo, I co-own this baby with my best friend.” I always appreciate someone new loving on our bar. “What are you in the moodfor?” I ask her, wanting to offer the full experience of what we do here.
She chews on the inside of her cheek in thought before she says, “I would love something sweet and strong, with a sugared rim. Oh, and I want to getmatched.”
I smile, knowing exactly the book for her; it's a mix of childhood sweethearts turned lovers, and it goes perfectly with the drink she described.
Pulling open the bar top, I walk around to the front. “Follow me, I know just the book for you. B will have your drink right out to your table.” We share an easy conversation as I pull out the book and show her the content warnings. With a huge grin on her face she tucks the book in her arm and sits near the entrance.
Hours pass pretty quickly with it being the weekend, and Cass is on a roll. She comes in with so much energy, discussing this new eatery she and Jameson tried out. I love their love, but I don't think anything similar will ever be in my cards. My mind automatically goes to the night my parents ended up separating. They had a huge fight, which is not something they ever made a habit of letting me see. Being so young I had no clue it would be the last night we all shared the same home.
“How can you stand there and say such a thing? Have some damned reason,” Papi shouts. I don't understand what he’s saying. “You think burying yourself in work is the answer, hm? Did you think about what we needed?” My eyes dart between the two of them, scared of the yelling, and worried, but not comprehending.
“You want fucking understanding?” Mami seethes, her chest and neck red from anger. “Understand what exactly, Hector! And what did you do? You shut down, blocked us out.” She waves her hand around our home. “You checked out on me!”
