Upon exiting the Book Loft, Rowe bought some sunscreen at a five and dime next door. Once back on the sidewalk, Winnie applied it carefully to her face and shoulders, all the while, feeling Rowe’s eyes upon her. It soon became clear to her that her plan to not touch him the entire day would be tested by her desire not to burn the back of her shoulders. Sanity won out when she asked if he’d do the honors in applying it to the portion of her back visible above her sundress.
He agreed.
The first thing she noticed was the strength in his hands and how restrained it was. This was precisely what she had noticed when he had caught her stumbling of the last step at Decker hall – power with a delicate touch, such an odd combination. The manner in which his hands slid over her skin was also very conscientious– like his speech. Her mother had told her you could tell the quality of a lover by the quality of his conversation. If he cared enough to listen to your words, he’d listen to your body.
Rowe was a good listener.
Once back in the car, she asked if they could play minigolf. Yazoo City didn’t have a single putt-putt course, but her father often took her to the driving range when she was young and while he’d drive balls, Winnie would play on the practice green. Rowe, being a fan of any sport, readily agreed.
Clairmont Hills Golf and Games was a new addition to Anderson, and it felt positively futuristic when compared to the rest of the city which could have been used as a set for a 1960s period drama were it not for the fast-food restaurants that dotted the interstate exit.
The course had a “Volcano” theme and consisted of artificially built hills, fern trees, imitation rocks, tiki totems, and a couple of unexplained dinosaurs. In the spring and fall, bands of college students would flood the course, but in the summer, it was largely a family destination.
A high school girl with braces was working the desk, and when Rowe asked for two passes, she explained that if they waited until 3 pm, it was date night which meant two for one tickets.
“This isn’t a date,” Winnie was quick to point out.
“She loathes me,” Rowe explained. “Is there like an ‘enemy rate’ where you pay double?”
The girl smiled awkwardly.
“I don’t loathe you,” Winnie said.
Rowe smirked.
Rowe paid. They selected putters and balls – Winnie choosing red for herself and blue for Rowe, and by the 15th hole, she was ahead by one stroke.
“So, you’re pretty good at this,” he said watching her line up a putt.
“It’s cause I’m connected to the man upstairs.” She gave him a look and then struck the ball. It sped along the green Astroturf, bumped into a block of wood with the characteristic “thunk” and slowed next to the rock tunnel.
“So, you haven’t told me, have you been in love?” Rowe asked as he lined up his putt.
Winnie thought about her answer – staring blindly at the family two holes behind them. A father helped a small boy putt. He wore adorable OshKosh B’gosh shorts and a tiny, collared shirt. Finally she answered:
“You say you don’t know what love is, but you have been in love, I’m the opposite,” she explained.
“You know what it is,” he said.
“But I haven’t found it.” She finished.
“Really?” he questioned.
“I’ve been in like, puppy love,” Winnie answered. She lined up her ball and took a stroke, missing the gap between the rocks that led to the second half of the hole, giving him a chance to catch up.
“I was infatuated with a mad crush when I was sixteen,” she said.
“Sixteen could be real love. Juliet was younger”
“Hmmm… maybe I don’t know. We were like a forbidden love.”
“Nice.”
“It was in Ecuador with one of the locals on a mission trip. My dad had a fit. We had to hide in the church van.”
“Was that your first kiss?”
“It was.”
“What do you remember about it?” he asked. He sunk his putt, the ball clunking into the hole with the pleasing low-pitched rattle.
“It was not bad… very visceral… he never wore a shirt; you would have liked him.”
He wasn’t even sure what she meant.
“My heart was pounding… sympathetic nervous system,” she gave him a sly smile before she hit her next shot, missing the hole by inches, bringing them even in score. “I don’t know… all in all, it was pretty awkward. Do guys practice kissing on their hands in Jr. High like girls do?”
“We usually practice something else with our hand.”
“I bet you’re very good by now.”
“I’ve never really talked about it,” he shrugged. “But I assume I’m the best.”
She smiled but gave him a little sexy, “you naughty boy” look with her eyes.
Rowe struck the ball off the last rubber mat – the 18th hole – it shimmied past two water hazards, climbed a ramp into a tiki totem’s open mouth, and exited on the lower green – rolling 3 inches to the right of the cup.
“So, you haven’t been in love since then? … other than,” he tapped his chest to refer to himself.
She rolled her eyes and lined up her putt. “Okay, what’s the score?” she said.
“I think we’re tied,” he replied.
“So, this is for victory if I ace it!” she said.
“Yes… a true miracle I might add, beating me,” he boasted.
Winnie eyed the hole and looked back to her ball.
“If you make this,” he said, “a hole in one – I will concede my augment. You will have converted me.”
“I don’t need God to make this shot,” she said while narrowing her eyes.
“And we’ll get married,” he added.
“I don’t think that’s a reward. That should be the punishment.”
“Okay. If you miss, we have to get married…”
She drew in a breath. “Now the pressure is really on.”
She lined it up again.
“And it’s incontrovertible proof that God doesn’t exist.”
“I’m not agreeing to that,” she said, and then looked up to the sky. “I’m not agreeing to that.”
Rowe looked to the sky. “With all due respect sir… or ma’am, it’s not about her, it’s about me.”
“All right…” She smirked. “If that’s what it takes… I will make it with my eyes closed…. just to prove my point”
“Oh my god, yes, I will fall down on my knees and dedicate my life to jesus”
She grinned, lining the putt up before she theatrically shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to shrug this off as a joke, but somehow it did mean something to her. She genuinely wanted to make it, and somehow she felt she could. She was familiar with turning her will over to God and it had always served her well. She closed her eyes and let the putter in her hand swing gently back and forth as the sound of the kids laughing on hole 16 faded away – then the birds chirping quieted in her mind. Soon it was nothing more than her and the swing of the putter. She suddenly realized the allure of golf – why businessmen around the world craved the escape from their hectic lives, its singular focus allowed all else to dissolve – in this vacuum, she felt at peace – as if she could see her life more clearly. Her own emotions became more true – she could glimpse the sheer ecstasy of being alive – a state of bliss so often eclipsed by the needs and “have-tos” of life – by the endless distractions of cell phones, Facebook, and Netflix. She saw the folly of her self-imposed loneliness and felt an ocean of gratitude for today – the brief respite from it. She could feel a warmth within her – one she knew emanated from Rowe. She adored his kind heart in a way she hadn’t yet realized – hadn’t yet let herself realize. She enjoyed his company. She thought of standing in the dark next to her electrical box – the smell of coffee and bacon in the diner, the glorious breeze through the leaves at the park, the single blade of grass. It was from this state of pure heart and mind that she pulled the club back one last time and swung.
She whiffed.
The club missed the ball by a fraction of an inch, but she did manage to hit it on the backstroke, sending it tumbling backwards down a few concrete stairs and bouncing it off a rock directly onto hole 16.
Her eyes opened and widened.
Rowe giggled with mirth and applauded good-naturedly–teasing her.
The ball, meanwhile, rolled to a stop at the feet of the little boy wearing the Osh Kosh B’gosh. He immediately picked it up, threw down his putter, and started running toward her.
Winnie’s mouth dropped. She watched in amazement as he ran right by Rowe, right by her, past the water hazard, around the tiki totem, and placed it in the hole.
She raised her arms in victorious joy, high fiving her newfound assistant, and did a little dance which he promptly joined.
“No, that doesn’t count!” Rowe insisted, laughing, and shaking his head.
“It does count! In fact, it’s more amazing, that’s a true miracle!”
“You’re seeing what you want to see,” Rowe grinned.
“No, this is proof! God works through people,” she countered. She gave a little pistol “thank you” to the sky and winked then looked back to Rowe “Admit it.”
“Come on!” Rowe laughed.
It was too late; she was doing a victory dance.
“I think you’re seeing what you want to see,” she chided.
He was amused but unmoved.
She made her case as they returned their putters. “You have to let yourself see God. It’s like a voluntary thing. And it won’t slap you in the face. Like take this morning. Why did my power go out?”
“Well, clearly I screwed something up wiring that light.”
“See, you, like, default to a logical explanation. The logical explanation will always be more likely than the spiritual one.”
“Yeah…” he was a bit confused. “Is this an argument for or against my position?”
“You can’t determine the truth of any one incident by playing the odds. You can predict or guess, but you can’t decide the truth based on the odds if you do, you’ll always miss the outliers.”
“You really think God wants us to be together?”
“Oh God no, he wants me to save you!”
He thought about it. “Maybe they wired that light after the fact and put it on the same circuit as the furnace so when the light and furnace are on together, it overloads it.”
“You’re incorrigible.”