Page 93 of Plays Well With Others

I can’t see her smile, but I can sense it. I can feel it, too, in how she reaches back to touch my hip. “Me too.”

I’ll take thatme tooand keep it close for now.

31

SOMEDAY

Carter

“If you think about it, we’re doing a public service with this How To Date series,” I say to Rachel as I drive us to the mini golf course a few days later on Saturday afternoon. It’s our bye week, so there’s no football game tomorrow. I am so relaxed I’m beyond relaxed. Bye weeks are like mini vacations tucked into the middle of a ball-busting, back-breaking schedule. You can do whatever you want. Like, date on a Saturday.Wild.“We’re going to help a whole generation of romantics embarking on first dates,” I add.

“We’ve so got this. Four reasons why mini golf is an awesome first date,” Rachel says, then we rattle off the reasons we picked already that we’ll share on camera as we play.

“You know what to do with your hands,” I begin. “You put them on the club, instead of having to endure awkward moments sitting across the table from each other at a coffee shop wonderingDo I put them on the table or keep them in my lap?”

“Hands are so weird,” she says, agreeing, then shifts to the next tip. “Two, it’s a safe place for women. Lots of families and people are around, so that’s a plus for the ladies,” she adds as I flick on the blinker to turn right.

“And that’s very important,” I say, then take a beat. “Three, you can’t hold a phone and a golf club at the same time.”

“And four—anyone can play.”

“We’re brilliant. Do you think we might win an Emmy for our series?”

“Yes, and before you know it, we’ll open up our own consulting service. We could teach classes on dating. The Date Doctors are here for you,” she says in an infomercial voice.

“Yes, and people will come to us and ask questions like,'Should I take out my phone during a date?’” I continue as we near the course.

Rachel mimes slamming a hand on an imaginary buzzer. “Wrong, Bob. The correct answer ispay attention to your damn date.”

“Oh. So we’re the Gordon Ramsay of date doctors,” I say, as I turn into the course. “Got it.”

“You think that’s the wrong branding? I could try a different approach.” She clears her throat, adopting the tone of a mob heavy. “Hey, Bob, if you take your phone out on your mini golf date, you might not get any pussy.”

I crack up. I don’t know why it’s so funny to hear Rachel saypussyoutside of the bedroom. I just know that it is. Maybe that’s a question someday for a Word Doctor or a Humor Doctor.

“That’s some damn good advice, Rach,” I say as I slide into a parking space.

Yup, bye weeks rock. This day is as good as it gets. But when I cut the engine, and turn to her, there’s concern on her face. “Carter. We might need to share somedon’ts.”

“Okay?” I ask tentatively, unsure what she’s getting at, and whether her tone is real or faux serious. “Like what?”

Her gaze lands on my big rings, then back on me. “Like…don’t be a competitive beast.”

Whoa. That’s very specific. But I play along. “Hmm. Is that a general piece of advice?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t you remember when we all went to mini golf earlier in the summer?”

Of course I do. She’d flown up from Los Angeles to scope out locations for her shop before she moved. “And you, Monroe, Juliet and I played a nice game of mini golf,” I continue. I don’t add that I won with a five under par. But I don’t have to. Victory speaks for itself.

“And the whole time, you were dead focused on the game.Onlythe game. You were in the zone like it was a Sunday.”

“I’m competitive. I literally have to be,” I say, and I’m getting the feeling she’s not teasing me anymore.

This is a real admonishment.

“And you kept checking the par for every hole, and you were determined to be under par,” she adds, and her memory is an iron cage.

“I like games,” I say, defensively.

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