“But—”
She holds up her hand. “No. I will not be happy if you put your life on hold because of me. I want to see youlive. I want to see you love fully and deeply. I want you to have a relationship like I do with your dad. You can’t do that if you’re here ‘indefinitely.’” She uses my word choice. “You’ve got to go and be—”
“The heroine of my story,” I finish for her with a smile. “So you’ve said.”
“And I’m right,” she replies staunchly. She claps her hands. “Now. Let’s think this through. Holland’s been taking such good care of you from a distance. What are you going to do for him to return the favor when you see him again?”
I’ve been thinking about that ever since I left Cashmere Cove. He told me he loved me in the tree house. He said there was no rush to say it back, and I know he’d never push me. It’s one of the reasons why I know that Idolove him. He’s put himself out there for me and faced his fear of rejection and his fear of notbeing good enough time and time again. He’s trusted me with his heart.
I’ve done that between the two of us too. But it’s time I make a splash. I can’t control what other people think of me in the process, but I can show him what he means to me so he has no doubts about where I stand.
“He told me he loves when I live out loud, when I let loose,” I say slowly. “So I have an idea, but I’m going to need some help.”
45
Living Out Loud
Holland
It’s Sunday at the PGO Championship, and I’ve got a case of déja vu. Steve is at my side as we stride down the fairway. My tee shot was long and straight, putting me in great position for the next ball I have to hit.
“Distance to the green is 200 yards, over the water.” Steve’s voice is level, nonchalant.
I nod, but I don’t respond with words.
I know what I have to do. If I par this hole, I win the tournament.
It’s been a great few days of golf. The competition has been fierce, but I’ve held my own. I’ve played well. I’m loose and relaxed. I haven’t thought too much about completely blowing it at the Grand Masters…until now.
The thought enters my brain:history could repeat itself.
I turn it over in my head as we walk toward my ball. Yep, history could repeat itself. There’s nothing saying that I won’t hit this shot right into the water and open the door for my opponent, who happens to be Andy Mason, the same guy who wanted Mallory to coach for him, to walk through and steal this championship right out from under me.
It could happen.
Golf is a fickle sport. There’s a lot of luck involved.
For so long, I’ve aligned my self-worth with my performance, drawing confidence from playing well and the praise of fans and critics who noticed me and affirmed me. I was so anxious about losing their good opinion that I thought failing on the course would be the end of me.
But it’s not.
That’s the biggest takeaway of the past six weeks. If I become a washed-up golfer—a has-been who never wins another tournament in his life—I’ll still be able to go home to a family who loves me, a town that I love and that supports me, and Mallory.
I flip open the scorecard billfold I’m carrying. It has my notes on the course and distances, but that’s not what I’m looking at.
Nope. At the top of the billfold, I’ve taped a sticky note. It came in the mail to Cashmere Cove the day before I made the trek an hour south to Erin Hills Golf Course. It’s from Mallory.
Do your thing. I’m here for you no matter what.
No matter what.
She’s proven that to me, pretty much from the moment she started coaching me. She put up with my petulance. My self-centeredness. My teasing. My grasping for her attention. My harebrained idea to join a reality TV dating show mid-season. My secret unrequited love. She’s seen me at my lows, and she’s been unwavering. I’m so glad to have her on my team.
Whatever happens today, I’ve got a flight booked from the Milwaukee airport tonight. I’m flying down to see her. She doesn’t know it, but I can’t wait another day.
She made me promise not to mess with my practice schedule in the lead-up to this tournament, or I would have been down there already. But there’s nothing stopping me starting tonight. That thought centers me. Life is more than golf. And my life is better when Mallory is in it.
Steve and I pull up next to my ball, and I turn my attention to the shot at hand.
