Was she ever.
She blew the putt just as the phone she’d slipped into her pocket hummed. “That doesn’t count. My phone’s ringing.”
“Champs don’t cheat.”
“Tessa did,” she said on a laugh, pulling out her phone. “It’s Eli. I better take this.”
“I’ll shoot for you,” he said, stepping to her ball.
“Thanks. Hey, Eli,” she said as she brought the phone to her ear. “You will never believe where we are right now! Goofy?—”
“I’m a grandfather,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“What?” she shrieked just as Peter sunk the ball. “The baby was born?”
“A boy. Seven pounds and…some ounces. I don’t know. Healthy and good. They’re naming him Atlas.”
“Atlas? That’s ambitious and beautiful, Eli! So awesome! I’m happy for you and Jonah. And Carly—maybe we’ll get to meet her and the baby soon.”
Peter came to stand next to her, and she tapped the speaker button so he could congratulate his friend.
“Way to go, Pops,” he said with a huge smile. “Now which one of us is officially old?”
Eli laughed. “It’s surreal, you know?”
“How’s Jonah?” Vivien asked, thinking of her passionate and extraordinary nephew. “I sure hope this doesn’t change his mind about the culinary arts program here in Destin, but I couldn’t blame him if it did.”
“I don’t know. He’s dazed. Long labor, but he was there and got to cut the cord. He’s over the moon and probably has no idea what hit him.”
Vivien laughed softly. “I can believe it. I’m so happy for you. And welcome to the family, little Atlas. Hope the weight of the world isn’t on his seven-pound shoulders.”
“Right? So, where are you guys?” Eli asked.
“Goofy Golf,” they answered in unison.
Eli hooted. “Oh, you kids. Have fun. I want to call Kate and share the news.”
“All right. I’ll be home in a bit,” Vivien said. “How’s Mom?”
“Great-grandma Maggie? On a stinking cloud. She and Jo have decided to tackle baking, so I hope you want baby celebration cake when you get home.”
Smiling from the call and the news and the rightness of the world at that moment, Vivien slid her arm around Peter’s waist as they walked to the next hole, talking about the new arrival.
The call brought an even brighter spirit to the competition, the two of them laughing non-stop until they finished the seventeenth hole, when they realized they were tied.
“Okay, this is serious business,” Peter said at the entrance to a narrow tunnel guarded by a ridiculous goblin statue. “I cannot let you whip me again.”
“You can and you will.” She angled her head. “You want to go first?”
“Sure.” Peter lined up his shot, tongue between his teeth, full concentration. She took the chance to just…look at him, and appreciate that Peter McCarthy was still as attractive to her as he’d been when he was seventeen and crowned her a champ.
He was in good shape at fifty-three, a tall, strong, protective man who cared deeply about people, and his purpose in life.
He still made her feel things. She just didn’t quite know what they were.
He took his putt and watched the ball roll close to the hole and…stop, making him grunt in frustration. “Okay, Viv. You’re up and you need a hole in one to win or a shot that great to tie.”
She inhaled as she walked to the tee. “What do I get if I win?”
