“Don’t be an idiot, my man. You could makebank. I haven’t even told you how much, but trust me, you will be very happy.”
“How much?” Harrison asked.
When Clay told him, Harrison had to think a moment. He didn’t really need the money, but it felt foolish to turn down that amount. Anyway, he hadn’t decided to leave competition behind. Not yet, anyway. He’d rather make his money on the course. Wouldn’t he? A doubt popped into his head. Just a small thing, sort of like a gnat. But it was there, the idea that he didn’t want to make money on the course anymore. Did he even want to make money? What else would he do?
“Come on, man, I thought you were in Texas to have a think and make some decisions,” Clay said, the enthusiasm gone from his voice.
“I did. Iamthinking,” Harrison insisted. He just hoped Clay didn’t ask him about what, because so far, all he’d managed to think about with any clarity was Amy. In a this-is-nice-and-I-like-having-someone-around way.
“Look, I’m going to be straight,” Clay said. “You’re fifty years old. That’s pretty long in the tooth for the tour these days. This thing in Scotland? That’s going to be the way of making money in the future.”
“Wow, that hurts. I was playing at a top level before the accident. I was ranked at thirty.”
“Sure, but you’re not a spring chicken. You’ve been off the tour for more than a year. And you haven’t won a tournament in, what, six years? You know your sponsor, FLYJETS, called me a week or so ago wanting to know when you’re going to be back on tour. You’re going to start losing big endorsements, man.”
That stung even more. “Just because I haven’t won one in a while doesn’t mean I won’t. Phil Mickelson won a major at fifty.”
“He did, he did. Go ahead and name someone else who won a major at fifty years old. I’m just saying, golf is a young man’s game, and these gigs can keep you in the money while you ease back into tour shape.”
“Wow. I had no idea you think I’m so old and out of shape.”
“Dude, don’t pout. If you don’t get some tournaments under your belt, you won’t have the points to get back on the tour when your exemption ends. And we all know, the longer you’re off the course, the duller you get and the more money you lose.”
As much as he would have liked to, there was nothing Clay said that Harrison could argue with. Why did Clay have to be right all the time? Harrison opted for petulance instead of argument. “You know what, Clay?”
“Yeah, I know, I’m the asshole. But you pay me to be truthful with you, Harrison, and I’m telling you it is time to put up or shut up. I need to know in a few days if you’re going to Scotland.”
Clay was rightagain. But he knew, better than Clay, that he couldn’t keep dithering about his future. He wanted to keep playing golf, despite the little niggle of doubt. But he also didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted to have one place to hang his hat. He wanted to finish tournaments and have someone to go home to. He wanted tournaments to come to him.
He vowed that tomorrow he would make some decisions. But for now, it was almost time for the lake taxi, and he was looking forward to spending some time with Amy. He stood up to grab some shoes and a coat, and thought he heard a dog sniffing at his door. When he opened it, Duchess wandered in, nose to carpet, until she found him. He squatted down to give her some belly rubs, and gradually became aware that someone was talking and moving closer. It was Barb, he realized. He figured she was in the mudroom that led to the garage.
“You shouldn’t sit more than thirty minutes at a time, you know. It’s not good for your circulation.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
That was Amy. He paused, his shoes in hand.
“You’re welcome,” her mother said airily.
“What else you got, Mom? I know your advice doesn’t end there.”
“If you’re asking—”
“It was a joke—”
“I wish you’d get out more. Meet some new people. Have fun.”
“Who says I don’t have fun?” Amy asked. “I have fun. But is that you projecting? Is that what you’re doing?”
“What am I doing?” Barb asked.
There was a moment of silence in which neither spoke.
“You mean why I am here with the Posse? They’re my best friends and we are having fun.”
“I’m asking about Dad, and you know it. Why are you having fun without him?” Again, a long silence. And then Amy said, “He keeps calling me, Mom.”
“That must be annoying. I’ll tell him to stop.”
