Page 89 of Put a Rink on It

“You could never,” I state with conviction, Dad’s comments rattling around my brain, information to unpack at another time.

“Are you guys almost done? You’ve been at this for hours.”

“Once your brother gets the ball in the last hole, we’re done.”

“Did you play good golf?” Marina wonders, a twinkle in her eye.

A heavy sigh tumbles out of me, having to admit the truth. “In fact, I did not. I played the worst round of golf in probably golf history, simulated or real. This is not for me. Perhaps there’s a better way I’ll spend my retirement when that time comes. It ain’t gonna be golf.”

For shits and giggles, I step up to the ball and take a swing. Wouldn’t you know that fucker goes right into the hole?

I point my club at Marina. “Or I just need a good luck charm. Care to play another round to test it out?”

“Never again,” my father razzes with a hearty chortle.

Marina rolls her eyes. “You and your damn superstitions.”

“Still?” Kaitlyn squeals. “Do hockey players not grow out of them?”

“Nope. These grown men are worse than kids sometimes,” Marina spouts.

“Does he still eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch on game days? Strawberry jelly only, cut in thirds?”

Damn, that’s an oddly specific thing for Kaitlyn to remember.

Marina nods. “Thirds. Who cuts a sandwich in thirds?” A chuckle rumbles through her. “To be fair, Nero’s aren’t as bad as some guys I’ve seen or read about.”

I throw my hands in the air, careful not to let the club fly. “Finally, she admits the truth. I’ll take ‘aren’t as bad’ any day of the week.”

“Should we grab a drink at the club bar?” Dad suggests.

“We definitely should, Daddy.”

“Thanks for teaching me about golf, Dad,” I say on the way out of the suite.

“Son, if that was me teaching, I blame the student. Not much learning was going on today.”

Tucked against my side, Marina cocks her head toward me. “Were you really that bad?”

“He was,” Dad confirms.

“What he said,” I mumble, a chorus of laughs ringing out at my expense. “I’m gonna stick to hockey.”

After a round of drinks at the club bar, Kaitlyn convinces my dad to check out the library with her. She hands her keys to me but glances at Marina. “Where are we meeting for girls’ night?”

Marina shrugs. “You decide since I know nothing of this area and don’t have a car to get around.”

“We’ll stop at Mom and Dad’s and switch cars, then you can let Marina know what time to be ready for you to pick her up.”

“Super. Oh, and wear the red dress tonight.” Kaitlyn winks.

Marina’s cheeks flush red. “Uh, yeah, maybe. We’ll see,” she stammers.

“Trust me.” Kaitlyn flits away with Dad, and Marina and I head to the parking lot. I slip her hand in mine because I can, and it feels good.

“I want to see the red dress.”

“Of course you do. I’ll model it for you if you ask nicely because I’m not wearing it tonight.”