Page 46 of Sweet Spot
“Keira plays at Valley University. She had back-to-back top ten placings at the Pac-12 Championships and NCAA Regionals, was named Player of the Month in September, made first team all-Pac-12, almost advanced to semifinals of the NCAA Championship, too.” I finish and take a sip of wine. It’s still silent when I place it back on the table.
Gram’s smile couldn’t get any bigger, and Keira looks dumbstruck, as if she didn’t expect me to know her stats. Did the girl really think I took her on just because she begged and pleaded?
“Wow.” Whitney is the first to speak. She looks between Keira and me a couple of times. “That’s really impressive.”
“It sure is,” Gram says, eyes not leaving my face. I shake my head because I know exactly what she’s thinking. Just because I know the girl’s history, it doesn’t mean I’m interested in dating her.
And even if I were, it’s simply not possible. Putting aside the fact I’m her coach, I care too much about seeing Keira succeed to screw it up by getting in her way.
16
Keira
Lincoln wentto walk Whitney and her grandmother to their car, but I stay on the patio with Milly, enjoying the light breeze and the last heat of the sun.
“Your house is beautiful. I can’t imagine waking up to this every day.” Lincoln’s grandmother’s house has a beautiful view of the golf course.
“George, my husband, had coffee out here every morning, and a lot of evenings too. I don’t sit out here nearly as much now that he’s gone, but it always makes me think of him.”
“Lincoln talks about him a lot—or, as much as he talks about anyone.”
“He started following George around as soon as he was able to walk and never stopped.”
I pull my legs under me as I try to picture a young Lincoln.
“My parents moved out here from Maryland when I was little. My grandparents were always far away so I never really had that type of relationship with them. I think it’s nice that he did. And nice that you two are still so close.”
“That must have been hard.”
I shrug. “They’ve passed now, but they would send cards, and we talked on the phone occasionally. I never felt like I missed out. Well, not too much. Seeing you and Lincoln together makes me think it would have been nice to have lived closer.”
“I’m sure Lincoln would love to have me across the country right about now. He’s one blind date away from never speaking to me again.”
I giggle, which is something I’m finding I do a lot around Milly. “Why do you do it if you know he hates it?”
She sighs. “Because I’m afraid that, if I don’t push him, he’ll spend so much time fixing people’s golf swings that he’ll forget to fix his own issues and live his life. Eventually, you get old enough to realize work is the thing you do to afford a life, not to create one. And I don’t mind admitting that I’d also like a great grandchild before I die.”
Milly smiles and places her hand over mine on the table. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m proud of him, and I’m glad he’s helping you. I just wish he'd take more time for himself.” She taps her fingers over mine and then lifts her hand. “There’s something about seeing you with him, though. You keep him on his toes, I can tell.”
She stands just as Lincoln reappears. “I’m gonna clean up. Why don’t you and Keira go for a walk along the course before it gets dark.”
I expect Lincoln to offer an excuse, but when Milly goes inside, he waves a hand toward the gate at the edge of the yard. “What do you say?”
As we walk down the golf cart path, the only sounds are our footsteps and the birds chirping. Palm trees dot the horizon, and the ninth hole stretches out before us. We have this entire amazing course to ourselves and it’s breathtaking.
“Your grandmother is . . .” I smile as I try to think of the right adjective.
“Overbearing? Bossy?”
“I was going to say wonderful, but those things too.”
“Yeah. She’s great minus the setup attempts at every turn. Last week, a woman emailed me and asked about having me out for a clinic at her high school, and when I called her to get more details, she told me she’d gotten my number from Gram, and oh, by the way, she was the librarian.”
“A librarian with a passion for sports . . . or maybe just the man playing the sport.” I bump my shoulder against his and then remain close. “You’re a catch.”
He arches a brow. “My gram tell you that?”
“Me and every other woman in the state probably.”
