Chapter 1
“I THINK YOU got lucky, girl. If Larson had found out about Grant, you could’ve been bounced before this illustrious career you’ve chosen ever got started.”
“Maybe he knew and he didn’t care. Maybe no one cared that I was going out with a guest, and I got paranoid for nothing.”
Tiny Sue nodded. “Yeah, Larson’s a cool caddie master. I kinda miss him.”
Before she left for greener pastures, Tiny Sue had been my mentor at Singing Bluffs. She was the only girl in the caddie shack who I respected – and it wasn’t because we both hovered near the five-foot mark. She’d quit two months earlier to join the Champions Tour. That’s how smart she is.
We were sitting on the dinky balcony of Sue’s motel room overlooking an asphalt parking lot. It was eight p.m., and it was ninety degrees with no breeze – way beyond the comfort zone of a coastie like me.
“And the trees. I really miss the trees,” she continued. “Lainey, do you know how artificial Pebble Beach is? Boring. I haven’t seen a course yet that has even half the character of those at the Bluffs, and I’ve looped all over the place. And the weather’s always hot and sunny. It took me a while to get used to that.”
“Yeah, well, maybe the middle of summer wasn’t the best time to leave Eden Beach,” I said, doubting my own road trip decision.
But no, however insufferable Central Oregon was compared to my home on the south coast, a weekend in Sun River was the break I needed to fully appreciate my choice to stay on at Singing Bluffs Resort. True, the guys were going to jack me around for taking off during the high season. But Larson would put me back into the first-years’ rotation without even a dirty look. He knew I was leaning towards wintering at the resort.
I’m a caddie, and it’s my job to help golfers have the game of their lives. My first four months of looping at Singing Bluffs had earned me a reputation as a solid, dependable caddie. Once guests realized that I was smarter than my top-heavy bimbo body suggested, they golfed and let me do my job.
That’s the way it went on good days. Then there were the days of gross, boys’-club losers, egotistical know-it-all assholes, and endless, stupid golf jokes and offensive slurs. But the beauty of the resort’s two links-style courses always brought me back for another day. Even in the worst eighty-mile-an-hour windstorm and with thirty pounds of golf clubs on my back, walking the fairways of the Bluffs or the Hollows is the coolest job imaginable.
“Waiting wasn’t an option, Lainey. If I hadn’t left when I did, I would’ve missed my chance at finding a decent tour player. And you know I couldn’t stand another moment of Screaming Bluffs’ good ol’ boy management. You’re just getting started there, but I’d put up with their cronyism and wink-wink implicit pandering for three years.” She made a tight line with her mouth and scrunched her eyes before releasing a puff of exasperation. We each took a drink of our beers.
“Anyway,” she continued, “how’re they treating you, Lainey? Things any better?”
“It’s not so bad. I try to avoid Twila and Cindy…”
“The skanks.”
“Yeah, but they’ll be gone soon. It’s only August and a lot of caddies are already making plans to move on. The other girls are either looking for more reliable work or following boyfriends to snowbird courses. Rocks is staying, though.”
“The cull. What a scumbag he is. Gives me the creeps just thinking about him. But don’t sweat it, Lainey. Just keep your cool and don’t let him yank your chain. Good thing he doesn’t know about Grant or you’d never hear the end of it.”
Sue could have lectured me when I’d starting falling for Grant, but she didn’t. It was my own fault that I got all squirrelly. Poor Grant. Having to sneak around because I was afraid to let any resort people see us together. But it was kinda fun.
We drank some more, and I filled her in about the fundraising tournament for the Eden Beach swimming pool that Singing Bluffs had hosted, and about Travis, the new guy in town who got the hole-in-one. And about how Jessica and I got back at Rocks because he told golfers that I put out. Our spreading the rumor that he was an easy mark for hardcore drug dealers was pure and vicious vengeance that could’ve gone all wrong. But drug dealers in Eden Beach aren’t what you’d call organized, so they eventually lost interest and Rocks didn’t get killed.
SINCE I BARELY had a grasp of my own grownup life, I was sure it was a good idea for me to remain single. That didn’t keep me from missing Grant and phoning him once or twice a week, though.
“Hey there, Hotlips, I’m glad you called. So you’re home safe and sound.”
His sexy voice gave me a rush of heat for a moment, before I got hold of myself and straightened up. No point in getting all hot and bothered when he was hundreds of miles away. Besides, I was over him. Well, at least in the happily-ever-after way.
“Yeah, Rover and I are home. Tired and grungy but I wanted to call you first thing. Actually you’re the third thing. I had to feed Rover and go to the bathroom, in that order. He gets yappy if I don’t get him his kibbles, and I couldn’t stand him pestering me.” I watched my shaggy mutt happily scarfing down his dinner in the kitchen part of my two-room house. Since I was only twelve feet away, collapsed on the couch with my cellphone and a beer, I was sure the crunching could be heard in Seattle.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you from Sun River, Grant. It was a crazy three days.”
“I know. You were busy.” There was a hint of heartbreaking sadness in his tone before he switched back to the one with a smile in it. “So tell me all about it. How’s Tiny Sue? How’s she liking her stint as a tour caddie?”
“Oh, man. She’s having the time of her life. And the resort is beautiful. But you know what impressed me the most?”
“Let me guess. The huge swimming pools? The tennis courts? The scantily clad super athletes hanging around the swimming pools and tennis courts?”
“What? There were scantily clad super athletes? The only men I saw were fifty-something golfers and hairy-legged caddies. Remember it’s the Champions Tour. Nothing to get jealous about. No, what impressed me most was the professionalism. Sue conducted herself with dignity, so I followed her lead. You wouldn’t believe the amount of respect she gets.”
“I never met her but from what you’ve told me, I can believe it. She’s in the big show. PGA caddies aren’t coke-snorting bag-packers like the guys at Singing Bluffs. No offense.”
“None taken. It was so cool, Grant. Saturday I tagged around with her from the caddie shack – which was incredible, by the way – through her player’s round. It was a long day.”
“Her player made the cut to play Saturday? That’s phenomenal! How’d he finish?”
The direction Grant’s interest took towards the competition’s scoring reminded me of why we weren’t together. If he hadn’t gotten so hot-shit serious about beating the locals in the fundraiser tournament at the Bluffs, we wouldn’t have had the conversation that led to the real issue. His love of Seattle and my love of Eden Beach just didn’t mesh.
“In the top thirty, low on the money list. But Sue’s five percent on top of the base pay is way better than she ever did here. She packed up and we went our separate ways this morning. She’s driving a rattletrap car to the next tourney while her boss flies, but that’s the way she wants it. She’s kind of a free spirit.”
“The life of a vagabond tour caddie. Make you want to jump in?”
I could’ve said, “Are you kidding? Not me. I mean there are some points to it, but the bad outweighs the good. Rover and I are way too laid-back for that kind of life. We’ve got all the excitement we can handle right here.”
What I did say was, “Excuse me,” right after I accidentally let go a burp that would hit 5.7 on the Richter scale. My dinner of Cheez-Its and beer was catching up with me.
I swiftly changed the subject and asked how his week had gone. His property rental business in bustling downtown Seattle was fun for him and I liked hearing him describe how weird some of his wealthy clients were. But as with Tiny Sue’s life, it was more like a nice place for me to visit than a place to set up camp.
No, life in Eden Beach didn’t compare with the high-octane thrills of Seattle or PGA tournaments. But excitement and big money weren’t in my current game plan. The nerve-racking past few months had decided it for me. I was more than ready to settle for maintaining a comfort level of so-so, and staying out of trouble.
“I THINK YOU got lucky, girl. If Larson had found out about Grant, you could’ve been bounced before this illustrious career you’ve chosen ever got started.”
“Maybe he knew and he didn’t care. Maybe no one cared that I was going out with a guest, and I got paranoid for nothing.”
Tiny Sue nodded. “Yeah, Larson’s a cool caddie master. I kinda miss him.”
Before she left for greener pastures, Tiny Sue had been my mentor at Singing Bluffs. She was the only girl in the caddie shack who I respected – and it wasn’t because we both hovered near the five-foot mark. She’d quit two months earlier to join the Champions Tour. That’s how smart she is.
We were sitting on the dinky balcony of Sue’s motel room overlooking an asphalt parking lot. It was eight p.m., and it was ninety degrees with no breeze – way beyond the comfort zone of a coastie like me.
“And the trees. I really miss the trees,” she continued. “Lainey, do you know how artificial Pebble Beach is? Boring. I haven’t seen a course yet that has even half the character of those at the Bluffs, and I’ve looped all over the place. And the weather’s always hot and sunny. It took me a while to get used to that.”
“Yeah, well, maybe the middle of summer wasn’t the best time to leave Eden Beach,” I said, doubting my own road trip decision.
But no, however insufferable Central Oregon was compared to my home on the south coast, a weekend in Sun River was the break I needed to fully appreciate my choice to stay on at Singing Bluffs Resort. True, the guys were going to jack me around for taking off during the high season. But Larson would put me back into the first-years’ rotation without even a dirty look. He knew I was leaning towards wintering at the resort.
I’m a caddie, and it’s my job to help golfers have the game of their lives. My first four months of looping at Singing Bluffs had earned me a reputation as a solid, dependable caddie. Once guests realized that I was smarter than my top-heavy bimbo body suggested, they golfed and let me do my job.
That’s the way it went on good days. Then there were the days of gross, boys’-club losers, egotistical know-it-all assholes, and endless, stupid golf jokes and offensive slurs. But the beauty of the resort’s two links-style courses always brought me back for another day. Even in the worst eighty-mile-an-hour windstorm and with thirty pounds of golf clubs on my back, walking the fairways of the Bluffs or the Hollows is the coolest job imaginable.
“Waiting wasn’t an option, Lainey. If I hadn’t left when I did, I would’ve missed my chance at finding a decent tour player. And you know I couldn’t stand another moment of Screaming Bluffs’ good ol’ boy management. You’re just getting started there, but I’d put up with their cronyism and wink-wink implicit pandering for three years.” She made a tight line with her mouth and scrunched her eyes before releasing a puff of exasperation. We each took a drink of our beers.
“Anyway,” she continued, “how’re they treating you, Lainey? Things any better?”
“It’s not so bad. I try to avoid Twila and Cindy…”
“The skanks.”
“Yeah, but they’ll be gone soon. It’s only August and a lot of caddies are already making plans to move on. The other girls are either looking for more reliable work or following boyfriends to snowbird courses. Rocks is staying, though.”
“The cull. What a scumbag he is. Gives me the creeps just thinking about him. But don’t sweat it, Lainey. Just keep your cool and don’t let him yank your chain. Good thing he doesn’t know about Grant or you’d never hear the end of it.”
Sue could have lectured me when I’d starting falling for Grant, but she didn’t. It was my own fault that I got all squirrelly. Poor Grant. Having to sneak around because I was afraid to let any resort people see us together. But it was kinda fun.
We drank some more, and I filled her in about the fundraising tournament for the Eden Beach swimming pool that Singing Bluffs had hosted, and about Travis, the new guy in town who got the hole-in-one. And about how Jessica and I got back at Rocks because he told golfers that I put out. Our spreading the rumor that he was an easy mark for hardcore drug dealers was pure and vicious vengeance that could’ve gone all wrong. But drug dealers in Eden Beach aren’t what you’d call organized, so they eventually lost interest and Rocks didn’t get killed.
SINCE I BARELY had a grasp of my own grownup life, I was sure it was a good idea for me to remain single. That didn’t keep me from missing Grant and phoning him once or twice a week, though.
“Hey there, Hotlips, I’m glad you called. So you’re home safe and sound.”
His sexy voice gave me a rush of heat for a moment, before I got hold of myself and straightened up. No point in getting all hot and bothered when he was hundreds of miles away. Besides, I was over him. Well, at least in the happily-ever-after way.
“Yeah, Rover and I are home. Tired and grungy but I wanted to call you first thing. Actually you’re the third thing. I had to feed Rover and go to the bathroom, in that order. He gets yappy if I don’t get him his kibbles, and I couldn’t stand him pestering me.” I watched my shaggy mutt happily scarfing down his dinner in the kitchen part of my two-room house. Since I was only twelve feet away, collapsed on the couch with my cellphone and a beer, I was sure the crunching could be heard in Seattle.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you from Sun River, Grant. It was a crazy three days.”
“I know. You were busy.” There was a hint of heartbreaking sadness in his tone before he switched back to the one with a smile in it. “So tell me all about it. How’s Tiny Sue? How’s she liking her stint as a tour caddie?”
“Oh, man. She’s having the time of her life. And the resort is beautiful. But you know what impressed me the most?”
“Let me guess. The huge swimming pools? The tennis courts? The scantily clad super athletes hanging around the swimming pools and tennis courts?”
“What? There were scantily clad super athletes? The only men I saw were fifty-something golfers and hairy-legged caddies. Remember it’s the Champions Tour. Nothing to get jealous about. No, what impressed me most was the professionalism. Sue conducted herself with dignity, so I followed her lead. You wouldn’t believe the amount of respect she gets.”
“I never met her but from what you’ve told me, I can believe it. She’s in the big show. PGA caddies aren’t coke-snorting bag-packers like the guys at Singing Bluffs. No offense.”
“None taken. It was so cool, Grant. Saturday I tagged around with her from the caddie shack – which was incredible, by the way – through her player’s round. It was a long day.”
“Her player made the cut to play Saturday? That’s phenomenal! How’d he finish?”
The direction Grant’s interest took towards the competition’s scoring reminded me of why we weren’t together. If he hadn’t gotten so hot-shit serious about beating the locals in the fundraiser tournament at the Bluffs, we wouldn’t have had the conversation that led to the real issue. His love of Seattle and my love of Eden Beach just didn’t mesh.
“In the top thirty, low on the money list. But Sue’s five percent on top of the base pay is way better than she ever did here. She packed up and we went our separate ways this morning. She’s driving a rattletrap car to the next tourney while her boss flies, but that’s the way she wants it. She’s kind of a free spirit.”
“The life of a vagabond tour caddie. Make you want to jump in?”
I could’ve said, “Are you kidding? Not me. I mean there are some points to it, but the bad outweighs the good. Rover and I are way too laid-back for that kind of life. We’ve got all the excitement we can handle right here.”
What I did say was, “Excuse me,” right after I accidentally let go a burp that would hit 5.7 on the Richter scale. My dinner of Cheez-Its and beer was catching up with me.
I swiftly changed the subject and asked how his week had gone. His property rental business in bustling downtown Seattle was fun for him and I liked hearing him describe how weird some of his wealthy clients were. But as with Tiny Sue’s life, it was more like a nice place for me to visit than a place to set up camp.
No, life in Eden Beach didn’t compare with the high-octane thrills of Seattle or PGA tournaments. But excitement and big money weren’t in my current game plan. The nerve-racking past few months had decided it for me. I was more than ready to settle for maintaining a comfort level of so-so, and staying out of trouble.