Right now, I need to focus.
Andy steps up, and a hush falls over the crowd. He doesn’t hesitate as he putts, and his ball is on a rope. It lands with a plunk in the cup, and the grandstand erupts.
I block it all out. I don’t think about Andy’s putt. I don’t think about the score. I don’t register Cameron’s voice when he says, “We couldn’t have drawn this up better, Jim. We’re getting ourmoney’s worth today, aren’t we? This is no gimme for Bradley. We know he’s struggled from this distance…”
I crouch down and eye the line my ball needs to take. I feel Steve hovering behind me. But the two of us know each other so well that he knows not to speak until I stand up. Even then, he knows I’ll ask him if I want his opinion.
I know what I have to do. I rise carefully out of my squat, keeping my eye on the hole for an extra second, tracing the line backward to my ball. It’s a little trick Mallory taught me: visualizing the ball’s path there and back, ensuring the accuracy of the line.
“I’m good,” I tell Steve.
“You’ve got this.” He steps back.
I get into my stance, feet shoulder width apart, knees loose and relaxed, ball in the center of my field of gravity. I eye my line one last time and then keep my eye on the ball as I ease into my backstroke and pull my club forward.
The contact is perfect, and the ball rolls toward the hole with exactly the right amount of speed. I don’t react, just stay frozen in place, putter still held in front of me until…
Plunk.
The world slows on its axis as the ball drops into the hole. I can’t believe it, and also, I can totally believe it. I’m thrilled, and at the same time—for the first time—this golf victory isn’t the be-all-end-all of my happiness.
The crowd goes wild, and I shake my head slightly, coming out of a daze. I did it. I actually did it. A wide smile splashes across my face. I throw my hands over my head, both out of excitement at winning and because it feels good to know I would have been okay had I not won. I spin around and hug Steve.
“Proud of you, Holland.” He slaps my back hard.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, man.” I pull back and grab his shoulders, giving him a shake.
He chuckles. “Enjoy it all.”
I take my hat off and turn to shake hands with Andy and his caddie.
“Well played, Holland.”
“Likewise. It was fun.”
“Agreed. Congrats.”
I put my hat back on my head and turn toward the grandstand, lifting my hands to salute the crowd.
To my one side, Cameron is clucking into his headset. “Redemption tastes so, so sweet for Holland Bradley…”
I grin broadly at the sight of my parents. My mom is crying, and my dad is beaming next to her. Mack is even smiling. Someone write it down. The Kasper sisters are all jumping up and down. Anton stands like a giant statue, clapping next to Collin. And then the two of them step to the side, and—
I do a double-take.
Mallory.
She’s got her hair down in loose waves beneath a white ball cap. She’s ditched her usual sunglasses, so I can see the way her eyes are glittering in the late-afternoon, Wisconsin sunshine.
She’s also ditched her usual even expression. She’s smiling an open-mouthed, uninhibited smile. She’s not supposed to be here, and yet…
“Holland!” She sprints out onto the green, running at full speed and leaping at me. I wrap my arms around her, and the momentum of her body colliding with mine sends me whirling around in a circle. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I bury my nose in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of peaches I’ve missed so much over the past few weeks. I knock her hat off her head in the process, and her hair hangs in curtains around me, shrouding the two of us in our own personal canopy.
After a couple of seconds, she leans away from me, and I gaze into her sparkling green eyes. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
She grins. “Living out loud.”
She closes the distance between us, pressing her lips against mine in a strong, sure kiss.
