everything is fine.”
My father stopped walking. “How do you mean?”
“Oh, you don’t want to get me started on that topic, or we may never get to play golf.”
“Well, is there anything I can do to help?”
I chuckled. “Maybe one of these nights when she’s in a really bad mood you could lend me your spare bed, but other than that, nothing comes to mind.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Well let’s just say, I’m seeing a whole new side of Erin, and it isn’t pretty. If I so much as look at her wrong it sets her off these days. I know it’s just the pregnancy hormones and lack of sleep, but still, it’s tough. I’d bet good money that if I looked up the word cranky in a dictionary it would say something like, ‘see Pregnant Woman.’ And then there’s the morning sickness. When she’s vomiting she complains that she’s vomiting, and when she’s not vomiting she complains about being nauseated and she wishes she could throw up again so she can feel better. It boggles my mind. I just keep wondering when it’s all going to end.”
My father studied me, methodically tapping his forefinger on his upper lip while looking me up and down. I felt like I was being judged. “Well,” he remarked, suddenly acting completely indifferent. “I’m sure you’ll both get through it.” He started walking again. “Hey, do you mind if I run ahead? I wanted to say hello to Delores before we start. She should be down on the driving range right about now.”
“Go right ahead. I’ll check us in and meet you at the first tee.”
Ten minutes later, while I was practicing my swing beneath the shade of a tall maple whose leaves were not fully unfurled, a familiar voice shouted cheerfully behind me.
“Augusta! Augusta!” I turned to find Delores shuffling up the path toward me. Her bright orange golf bag hung precariously from her shoulder.
I waved hello and asked how she was doing.
“Fine as wine!” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “That wonderful father of yours—” She turned her head slightly and looked back. “Oh, here he comes now. I’ll let him tell you.”
London was walking quickly up the path. He stopped directly beside the tee box and waved us over as he yanked a large driver from his bag. “Has she told you, Augusta?” he asked once we joined him. His demeanor with Delores around was noticeably different. More nervous. I shook my head. “I’ve asked Delores to join us today. It’s time for her to leave the comfort of the driving range and take a crack at the links. So we’re playing as a threesome,” he concluded. “I hope you’re okay with that.”
Delores didn’t give me a chance to respond. “I’ve so been hoping for a golf date with London. But two handsome Wittes are better than one, as far as I’m concerned!” She tipped her wire-rim glasses lower on her nose and winked at my father unabashedly. He didn’t even seem to notice. London was either completely uninterested in the woman and was consciously dodging her advances, or he was too dull to recognize that she fancied him. Either way, I wasn’t surprised. Although he never bothered to talk about her, I knew that my father had somehow never really gotten over the loss of my mother. The pictures of her that dotted the walls of his house were a testament to the fact that even after all these years, he still hadn’t let go.
I sighed inwardly, knowing that this was going to be a very long day. “Great,” I lied. “Sounds fun.”
My father was the first to tee off, taking extra time during his warm-up swings to give Delores some pointers. He finished the instruction by hitting a beautiful three-hundred-yard drive straight down the fairway. On a hotter day with harder ground it might have rolled all the way up onto the green.
I was nominated to go second, since the ladies’ tee was quite a ways farther up the fairway, and it didn’t make sense to double back on the very first hole. As usual I shanked mine horribly,
My father stopped walking. “How do you mean?”
“Oh, you don’t want to get me started on that topic, or we may never get to play golf.”
“Well, is there anything I can do to help?”
I chuckled. “Maybe one of these nights when she’s in a really bad mood you could lend me your spare bed, but other than that, nothing comes to mind.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Well let’s just say, I’m seeing a whole new side of Erin, and it isn’t pretty. If I so much as look at her wrong it sets her off these days. I know it’s just the pregnancy hormones and lack of sleep, but still, it’s tough. I’d bet good money that if I looked up the word cranky in a dictionary it would say something like, ‘see Pregnant Woman.’ And then there’s the morning sickness. When she’s vomiting she complains that she’s vomiting, and when she’s not vomiting she complains about being nauseated and she wishes she could throw up again so she can feel better. It boggles my mind. I just keep wondering when it’s all going to end.”
My father studied me, methodically tapping his forefinger on his upper lip while looking me up and down. I felt like I was being judged. “Well,” he remarked, suddenly acting completely indifferent. “I’m sure you’ll both get through it.” He started walking again. “Hey, do you mind if I run ahead? I wanted to say hello to Delores before we start. She should be down on the driving range right about now.”
“Go right ahead. I’ll check us in and meet you at the first tee.”
Ten minutes later, while I was practicing my swing beneath the shade of a tall maple whose leaves were not fully unfurled, a familiar voice shouted cheerfully behind me.
“Augusta! Augusta!” I turned to find Delores shuffling up the path toward me. Her bright orange golf bag hung precariously from her shoulder.
I waved hello and asked how she was doing.
“Fine as wine!” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “That wonderful father of yours—” She turned her head slightly and looked back. “Oh, here he comes now. I’ll let him tell you.”
London was walking quickly up the path. He stopped directly beside the tee box and waved us over as he yanked a large driver from his bag. “Has she told you, Augusta?” he asked once we joined him. His demeanor with Delores around was noticeably different. More nervous. I shook my head. “I’ve asked Delores to join us today. It’s time for her to leave the comfort of the driving range and take a crack at the links. So we’re playing as a threesome,” he concluded. “I hope you’re okay with that.”
Delores didn’t give me a chance to respond. “I’ve so been hoping for a golf date with London. But two handsome Wittes are better than one, as far as I’m concerned!” She tipped her wire-rim glasses lower on her nose and winked at my father unabashedly. He didn’t even seem to notice. London was either completely uninterested in the woman and was consciously dodging her advances, or he was too dull to recognize that she fancied him. Either way, I wasn’t surprised. Although he never bothered to talk about her, I knew that my father had somehow never really gotten over the loss of my mother. The pictures of her that dotted the walls of his house were a testament to the fact that even after all these years, he still hadn’t let go.
I sighed inwardly, knowing that this was going to be a very long day. “Great,” I lied. “Sounds fun.”
My father was the first to tee off, taking extra time during his warm-up swings to give Delores some pointers. He finished the instruction by hitting a beautiful three-hundred-yard drive straight down the fairway. On a hotter day with harder ground it might have rolled all the way up onto the green.
I was nominated to go second, since the ladies’ tee was quite a ways farther up the fairway, and it didn’t make sense to double back on the very first hole. As usual I shanked mine horribly,
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