Our grandparents have lived next to one another for as long as I can remember, so we’ve bumped into one another a lot over the years. She and Kenton spent lots of weekends exploring the neighborhood while I tagged along with Pop when he went to work. He’d take me to the range, get me a bucket of balls to hit, and when those were gone, I’d sit on the ground and watch as he worked with clients. If it rained or when he travelled, I’d be forced to stay behind and hang out with my little brother and the girl next door.
“Relax, Lincoln, it’s just dinner,” she says after we’re seated. “You look like you’re ready to take off in a dead run down the ninth hole.” She inclines her head toward the golf course behind Gram’s house.
“Just dinner?” I laugh quietly. “You don’t remember my grandma as well as you think you do.”
She rolls her eyes and settles back into her chair, obviously more comfortable than I am. “What have you been up to? It’s been years. I was sorry to hear about you and Lacey. I always liked her, she was really nice.”
“Still is.” I take a long, long drink and then fill her in on the major milestones of my life, which takes an embarrassingly short amount of time. “What about you?”
“I went to school upstate. Graduated last May, spent some time travelling Europe, and now I’ve accepted a position teaching middle school. It’s a long-term sub gig for now, but hopefully it’ll lead to a full-time job next year.”
“A teacher?” I ask in surprise. Then she shoots me a glare that I bet makes her pre-pubescent students wet themselves and wipes the look off my face.
As she’s telling me all the reasons she chose teaching as a career path, my phone rings with a call from my IT guy. Gram walks out to let us know it’s time to eat and eyes the phone in my hand with a disapproving scowl.
“It’s work. I’ll be right there.”
“Work can wait.”
“Five minutes.”
“Two,” she states firmly. “Come on, Autumn. I want to hear about your plans now that you’re back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Autumn says, and they disappear into the house.
I place the phone to my ear. “Hey, Will. What’s up?”
“Hey, boss man. Site crashed.”
“How long?”
“Just happened. Looks like it was an operating system update. I’ll have it back shortly, just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Okay. Send me more information when you have it. Anything else?” I ask, mostly to delay going inside. Will is one of those guys who needs minimal supervision, which I appreciate more than he knows. I barely have time to manage myself.
“All good. We’re probably gonna need to add another server sometime in the next six months to handle the traffic, but we’re okay for now.” I can hear his fingers flying over the keyboard. “And we’re back. A few emails came in at the same time, I’ll put them in a zip file and re-send.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Later, boss man.”
The call ends, and instead of hustling into the house like I should, I pull up my email. I really need to set up a filter to weed out the hundreds of spam messages I get every day. One from Keira Brooks catches my eye, and a smile spreads across my face as I open it. We’ve sent a few back and forth over the last couple of days as she’s checked out the site and worked on the drills.
Saw your video with the hole in one. Impressive.
Keira
There’s a video attached. Under any other circumstance, I might wait or have a second of hesitation about opening an unsolicited video from a girl I barely know, but since I’m avoiding dinner with my brother’s ex, I click play.
The camera faces a blank, white wall. Keira comes into view, long hair pulled back into a ponytail. She glances back at the camera and smirks before holding up a red cup in her hand and then setting it on the floor.
She backs up about five feet, grabs a wedge and a ball, and stands sideways to the camera so I can see her profile. She takes a deep breath and then tosses the ball with her left hand and catches it with the club in her right.
She bounces the ball off the clubface in a steady rhythm. After a few bounces, she moves the club behind her and between her legs, keeping that rhythm and holding command over the ball.
Then she goes into trickier moves, catching it on the top of her shoe between bounces, kicking it with the sole of the other shoe behind her. It’s really something to watch. I’ve seen plenty of trick shots, but she has a graceful, fluid control that most don’t possess.
For the finale, she bounces the ball a touch harder, moves the club behind her back, taps the ball, and somehow hits it into the cup.
My eyes widen in disbelief. I watch it twice. If she somehow spliced the video, I sure as hell can’t tell.
I send her a quick email in response.
How many tries did that take?
Lincoln
I’m smiling at my phone, watching the video a third time when another email from her comes in.
One.
Okay fine, three.
Keira
I kick my feet up and lean back, sending another reply.
Nice. How’s the swing coming?
Lincoln
As if she’s waiting for my email, the same way I’m waiting for hers, the reply is quick.
Just got back to my dorm. I’m going to work on the drills after I study.
Keira
The reminder that she is in college is a swift kick to the old man balls. She has a life outside of golf that I can’t relate to anymore. I sit forward in my seat and send one last email.
Sign up for a free account on the site, there are a ton of videos that you’ll have access to, and you can get one free swing review each month from someone on my team.
Even though I told myself the email was my final reply, I still wait for hers. It comes just as quickly as the others.
Your team, huh?
Keira
“Lincoln.”
“Hmm.” I raise my head slowly from my phone and find Gram scowling at me.
“I said your name three times before you answered. Put that phone away and come eat. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
I place my phone in my pocket. “Sorry, Gram.”
Dinner passes relatively quickly, and it isn’t even that awkward because it’s clear neither Autumn nor I are interested in the other. After thanking Gram, I walk Autumn out to her car.
“How is Kenton? Do you talk to him much?”
Hands in my pockets, I follow her slow pace. “He’s good. Still in L.A. playing soccer.”
“He always said he was getting out of Arizona. I guess I should have believed him.” She looks a little sad, and I don’t know what to say. Kenton is . . . Kenton. Carefree and fun, incredibly hard working and successful but somehow still manages not to take himself too seriously. “Tell him I said hello.”
I nod and open her car door. “It was good to see you. Congrats on graduating and good luck teaching.”
“Thanks, Lincoln.” She slips into the car and grabs a pen and scrap piece of paper from the console. She scribbles on it and then hands it to me. “Call me if you want to get together again.”