guessing game to keep his mind occupied while killing time.
Which one was Jessica? He measured the name to each ponytailed youngster who trotted out the door.
That one? Maybe.
Defiant of the blistering sun, insane little children romped on the playground to his right. Wild monkeys, swinging on the jungle gym and screaming down the slides. On the air, the children’s laughter whirled through his open window, the sound alien to him. He hadn’t laughed much when he was a kid. Hadn’t had much to laugh about.
Snapping a fat blue rubber band off the rearview mirror, he wove it through his fingers, and settled down to wait.
* * *
“Jesus, I’m a jerk,” Sam mumbled to himself as he gave his watch a surreptitious glance. How could he have been so stupid as to come to work today?
“What did you say?” his student asked, pulling her gaze from the yardage markers on the Padre Trails Country Club’s driving range.
“I said, go ahead and hit it.”
Sam had found Christie’s note at lunchtime, when he’d gone home. Be back soon, which really meant, see you later. Kiss off, Sam. It was then that he realized what a critical error he’d made in leaving her alone in the first place. If he’d stayed home, she wouldn’t be gone.
The message she’d left with the starter a couple of hours ago said she was okay and would be in touch with him later. He’d been watching for her ever since, but there was no sign of her yet. At least she’d called. He’d been surprised by it.
The last time she’d disappeared while he was at work, she’d gone for good. No note. Just empty drawers and closets to lead him to the inevitable conclusion. Not that he’d been surprised by her desertion. She’d caught him pants down with another woman and nothing he could do or say could change that.
All he could hope for was to convince her that he’d changed.
He sighed, staring at the rolling greens stretching from the edge of the blue-domed sky to the shore of the whitecapped ocean. To his left, ducks quacked as a golf cart nosed them off the trail that snaked through the heart of the course.
What had Christie been doing all day? he wondered. What was she up to? She was probably out right now, hunting for a new place to live in until it was safe to return to her house.
He glanced at his watch. Two minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked. He should have stayed home.
He cursed himself again, this time silently. Why had escaping to work seemed like such a good idea this morning? And why had it taken him until noon to figure out it wasn’t?
“You have to keep your eyes on the ball, Jennifer,” he said as if he’d been watching her instead of his ticking watch.
Nodding, Jennifer gripped the club and swung. Her drive sliced through the air with a whoosh, digging up a chunk of earth and sailing it gracefully over the ball.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, squinting at the glare from the afternoon. He hadn’t escaped his problem in coming here. He’d brought it with him and left the solution at home, sleeping in his bed.
He looked down at Jennifer’s ball, still perched on the tee. “Why don’t we call it a day?”
“I didn’t even hit it,” she said.
“I know, Jen, but it looks like you’re having an off day. Let’s wrap it up. I’ll give you an extra lesson some other time. No charge.”
She shook her head. “What good is another lesson going to do me? I can’t even hit the ball.”
“But you’re hell on grass,” he teased, bending to scoop up the hunks of sod around her club and gently tap them back in place with his shoe.
“I won’t even get off the first tee tomorrow,” she said accusingly.
“Sure you will. I’ve seen you hit the ball. You’ve seen you hit it. You’re just having a bad day. You’ll do fine tomorrow.”
“I don’t think so.”
He gripped her shoulders lightly between his palms, trying to appear as he usually did, like he really cared. “Jennifer, trust me on
Which one was Jessica? He measured the name to each ponytailed youngster who trotted out the door.
That one? Maybe.
Defiant of the blistering sun, insane little children romped on the playground to his right. Wild monkeys, swinging on the jungle gym and screaming down the slides. On the air, the children’s laughter whirled through his open window, the sound alien to him. He hadn’t laughed much when he was a kid. Hadn’t had much to laugh about.
Snapping a fat blue rubber band off the rearview mirror, he wove it through his fingers, and settled down to wait.
* * *
“Jesus, I’m a jerk,” Sam mumbled to himself as he gave his watch a surreptitious glance. How could he have been so stupid as to come to work today?
“What did you say?” his student asked, pulling her gaze from the yardage markers on the Padre Trails Country Club’s driving range.
“I said, go ahead and hit it.”
Sam had found Christie’s note at lunchtime, when he’d gone home. Be back soon, which really meant, see you later. Kiss off, Sam. It was then that he realized what a critical error he’d made in leaving her alone in the first place. If he’d stayed home, she wouldn’t be gone.
The message she’d left with the starter a couple of hours ago said she was okay and would be in touch with him later. He’d been watching for her ever since, but there was no sign of her yet. At least she’d called. He’d been surprised by it.
The last time she’d disappeared while he was at work, she’d gone for good. No note. Just empty drawers and closets to lead him to the inevitable conclusion. Not that he’d been surprised by her desertion. She’d caught him pants down with another woman and nothing he could do or say could change that.
All he could hope for was to convince her that he’d changed.
He sighed, staring at the rolling greens stretching from the edge of the blue-domed sky to the shore of the whitecapped ocean. To his left, ducks quacked as a golf cart nosed them off the trail that snaked through the heart of the course.
What had Christie been doing all day? he wondered. What was she up to? She was probably out right now, hunting for a new place to live in until it was safe to return to her house.
He glanced at his watch. Two minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked. He should have stayed home.
He cursed himself again, this time silently. Why had escaping to work seemed like such a good idea this morning? And why had it taken him until noon to figure out it wasn’t?
“You have to keep your eyes on the ball, Jennifer,” he said as if he’d been watching her instead of his ticking watch.
Nodding, Jennifer gripped the club and swung. Her drive sliced through the air with a whoosh, digging up a chunk of earth and sailing it gracefully over the ball.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, squinting at the glare from the afternoon. He hadn’t escaped his problem in coming here. He’d brought it with him and left the solution at home, sleeping in his bed.
He looked down at Jennifer’s ball, still perched on the tee. “Why don’t we call it a day?”
“I didn’t even hit it,” she said.
“I know, Jen, but it looks like you’re having an off day. Let’s wrap it up. I’ll give you an extra lesson some other time. No charge.”
She shook her head. “What good is another lesson going to do me? I can’t even hit the ball.”
“But you’re hell on grass,” he teased, bending to scoop up the hunks of sod around her club and gently tap them back in place with his shoe.
“I won’t even get off the first tee tomorrow,” she said accusingly.
“Sure you will. I’ve seen you hit the ball. You’ve seen you hit it. You’re just having a bad day. You’ll do fine tomorrow.”
“I don’t think so.”
He gripped her shoulders lightly between his palms, trying to appear as he usually did, like he really cared. “Jennifer, trust me on
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