Page 73 of Sweet Spot
Her having watched the footage makes me smile, but I’m not really surprised. I looked her up the same way.
“I don’t know. Maybe I was too dumb to be nervous. I don’t really think it struck me how big of a deal it was until after. It took years of effort to get to that point, and once I was there, all I could think about was proving myself. That need and desire to get to the next level never really goes away. The goalpost moves every time, and you have to learn to celebrate the small wins. Like today for you. No matter what happens tomorrow, today you proved to yourself that you can do it.”
“I really want to win tomorrow.”
“I know.” I close my eyes too. “Did you see that putt where I almost choked on the tap in?” I ask, still reminiscing about my debut tournament.
“Mm-hmm.” Her response comes on a hum.
“God, my heart was in my throat. It took three holes to calm down.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Well, I knew I couldn’t blow up and make a scene on my first day.”
“I also saw the tournament where you broke your driver over your knee.”
I groan. “Ah, man, I was really hoping you’d never know about that one.”
“It’s probably my favorite of all the videos I’ve watched of you.”
“Really? Why? It’s one of my worst rounds of golf ever.”
“Because I can see the passion on your face. People who aren’t dropping f-bombs or thinking of breaking their club while playing a round of golf are either having an incredible day or don’t care enough. That video shows how much you care. You were frustrated and you let it show, but then you pulled it together and had an incredible round the next day.”
“I had to after that.”
“Golf is a lot like love, I think. If it isn’t making you a little nuts, is it even real? Passion—good or bad, is how you can gauge what’s really important to people.”
We both fall silent, and I contemplate her words. It isn’t an uncomfortable silence since the voices of the television provide white noise so we aren’t listening to each other breathe. Still, doing shit like this with anyone but Keira would be weird, but with her, everything feels normal.
I’m just about to drift off when I can sense she’s fallen asleep. I open my eyes to verify. There’s an ache in my chest as I stare at her parted lips and the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. After a few long moments, I move to end the call. “’Night, baby.”
* * *
The last update I got on the Valley tournament was an hour ago, and Keira had a two-stroke lead with four holes left.
Pacing back and forth at my flight gate, I’m refreshing the website for the millionth time for final scores when my boarding group is called. I head down the jet bridge with my overnight bag, phone still in hand. After I take my seat, I continue hitting refresh.
“I’m just there.” A man stands in the aisle and points to the empty window seat beside me. I stand, annoyed for the interference of hitting refresh, no matter how irrational it is, and let him pass.
The boarding process takes forever and every second delay in getting back to Arizona makes me more restless. I know I’m too late to make the tournament but I need to be back in the same state where I can comfort her, if needed.
I pray to God she won today, but if she didn’t, she’s going to need to talk it out. After the high of yesterday, a loss today would be brutal.
As the plane taxies down the runway, the flight attendant starts in on the in-flight safety procedures. I tune her out, hit refresh again, and freeze when the final tournament results load on my screen.
“She won,” I whisper. I stare at her name at the top of the final leaderboard. Pride fills my whole body. I look over to the guy next to me and repeat it. “She won.”
He smiles politely, clearly having no idea what I’m talking about. I show him my phone, and he humors me with a quick glance. “Keira, I mean my client won a golf tournament.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I tip my head back against the seat and shake it from side to side in astonishment. She did it. She freaking won.
There’s a strange feeling as I sit there, heading up into the sky and a few hundred miles away from Keira. I’m so damn proud of her. Happiness tinged with regret for not being there to see the look on her face when she realized she’d done it. Not being the person she shared all of it with.
My life, my job, has always meant more to me than single moments like this. Even big moments. Hell, aside from the actual day my ex and I exchanged vows, I spent most of the days surrounding my wedding wondering why there had to be so many small celebrations involved. An engagement party, a bachelor party, dinner with the two families, a bridal shower, a rehearsal dinner, and on and on.
