The golf cart glided across the eighteenth fairway as the late-summer wind carried the same question that had trailed Olivia all day: could she really leave her family for golf overseas? She pressed a knuckle to her teeth and looked to Dad at the wheel.
He pulled the rangefinder to his eye as he rolled up to the ball. “27 yards out, Liv,” he said.
Olivia stared at her shoes; her knees wobbled.
“Liv,” her dad said gently, “remember to live in this shot and this shot alone. Breathe. Choose your shot, then take it. Trust yourself.”
Olivia’s face relaxed as she looked out at the flapping flag.
She stepped out of the cart, hovered over her golf bag, and contemplated her club choice. The 60-degree wedge felt right, but the 52-degree and 56-degree wedges tugged at her. She reached for her 56-degree wedge but pulled her hand back; her mind jumped between the three clubs; she gritted her teeth and tightened her jaw.
“Which club do you think I should hit?” she asked.
Dad leaned on the side of the cart as the sun beamed onto him. The reflection of his all-white outfit blinded Olivia.
He looked at the flag. “It’s a tough shot, Liv. You have the flag on the front of a sloping downhill green with a sand trap at the front.” He turned to Olivia. “What feels right?”
Kanai Chou wouldn’t tolerate this kind of indecision. How could Olivia train with one of the world’s best golfers if she couldn’t make up her mind about a 27-yard shot? On days like this, it amazed Olivia she made it this far.
Dad put his hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Liv, you there?” he said, laughing. “Thinking about what happens if you win again, aren’t ya?”
Olivia nodded. “I know it’s crazy. What am I thinking? I go to a playoff if I hit this in two strokes. Maybe I won’t even crack the top of the WAGR ranking today.”
“You’re playing amazing golf, Olivia. Don’t second-guess yourself. What came to mind first?”
“The 60.”
“I think you have your answer,” he said, smiling as he sat back in the cart.
She took a practice swing and stepped up to the ball. Her hands settled as the breeze calmed down, and the sun highlighted her. She twisted her hips back slowly and struck the ball. She held form and watched the ball land just beyond the sand trap onto the front of the green.
The ball disappeared.
The crowd leaped. Roared. Olivia looked at her dad, who peeked out at the crowd.
The ball went in.
Her dad sprang with excitement and gave Olivia a giant hug. “What a shot!”
She skipped into the cart, and they were off to collect her ball from the bottom of the cup.
“What a great day of golf, Liv!”
Olivia frowned. “Are you sure you can’t come to tomorrow’s game? I play best when you’re here.”
He frowned with her. “It’s the only game I couldn’t get away from the station for. I’m beating myself up about it.” He sighed. “But! I’ll be there in spirit. Really, though, on a golf course you’re never alone. Even if you’re out here by yourself, the course itself is a living and breathing thing.”
She smiled, knowing that regardless of the decisions that dangled over her head, her dad would help her find the right choice.
Olivia sat motionless in a brown, cloth-padded chair. She leaned back, staring at the scorching, bright fluorescent lights revealing her dad’s body, lying motionless in the casket. The hum from the lights accompanied the cries through the funeral hall. She wondered if the lights also cried for her dad as she stared into them.
Her lanky mother dragged herself and plopped into the seat next to Olivia. “Horrible. Horrible. Horrible… my sweet Rich,” Mom muttered with a spasming cry.
Olivia straightened and tensed her shoulders. “I know, Mom,” she said, placing her hand on Mom’s back. “It’s hard.”
“Can you believe it…” Mom blew her nose and cleared her throat. “It’s so hard for me, Olivia. I’ve known him for so…so long,” she wailed.
Olivia took a deep breath and rubbed her mom’s back. Olivia hadn’t left her bed until that day, but she figured that her mom’s feelings must have been stronger given the intensity of their expression.
Though Dad’s death left a hole in Olivia’s heart, she could only imagine how terrible it must be for Mom.
“Oh, and Olivia,” she muttered, “I need you to select the restaurant for after the funeral; it’s just too much for me right now.”
Olivia’s younger brother Dylan came and sat next to Mom, leaning his head onto her shoulder.
“But Mom, I… are you sure I should make that choice? I don’t know—”
“Olivia, please, if it has food, it’s fine,” Mom said, flipping her short and freshly groomed hair. “Now that you’re the number-one-ranked college golfer, have you given Kanai’s offer more thought?” she asked.
Olivia shrugged. “Not really.”
Mom carefully placed her arm onto Olivia’s shoulder. “The choice is up to you, of course,” she said, “but it would just be so hard for me if you left, especially on top of this.” She lifted her napkin to her nose. “I can’t even begin to think about it—first your dad, and then you…”
Dylan leaned over and nodded at Liv. “We need to support each other.”
Mom trailed away as some of Dad’s friends came to say hi and express their condolences.
Olivia sighed. She lumbered around the small, dense funeral home. She greeted her aunts, uncles, neighbors, childhood friends, Dad’s coworkers, and others who knew Dad—which seemed like everyone. She asked all of them what they thought of Berry’s Pizza. Olivia knew that pizza didn’t seem that fitting, but she had no appetite and didn’t want to be out any longer than necessary; they all didn’t seem to care and said that they’d be happy to gather regardless of the food, though most loved the idea of pizza.
Olivia felt relieved as she peeked at the guest book and read the name at the bottom: Sherry Forester.
Olivia turned her head and saw Sherry’s athletic stature and long blond hair flowing as she looked around the room. Olivia smiled and was excited to be with her, both for her company and because when Olivia stood next to her—especially in all black—she was able to blend in where Sherry stood out. Olivia hurried to her.
Sherry embraced Olivia warmly. “Liv, I’m so, so, so sorry,” she murmured as she scanned the room. “Am I the only one from the UF golf team?”
Olivia nodded. “Yes. But I understand. Busy time, ya know.”
Sherry tightened her face. “But still,” she said, embracing Olivia again.
“How does Berry’s Pizza sound?” Olivia asked.
“I’m not even thinking about food, Liv. You say the words, and I will go wherever.”
Olivia faintly smiled.
“I loved your dad, Liv,” Sherry said, tears falling down her cheeks. “I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you. Please let me know if there is any way I can help.”
“Honestly, I just don’t want to talk about it today.”
“Your wish is my command,” Sherry said, pulling Olivia in for another hug.
Sherry stepped back and looked at Olivia seriously. “I know it’s not the right time, but congratulations, Liv. I’m so proud of you.”
“Oh, the Kanai stuff,” Olivia said, rubbing the back of her neck.
She wobbled her head jokingly. “Yeah, the Kanai stuff. Not like the best LPGA player in the world is offering to prepare you for the tour or anything.”
“Yeah, I don’t know, I’ve actually been—”
Mom lurched over to the girls. “Oh, Sherry! Can you believe my Richard!” she drawled, arms extended, hugging Sherry, who raised her eyebrows at Liv.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hamm.”
“Oh please, Sherry, you know you can call me Charlotte. It’s so...” Mom started to weep, and Sherry and Olivia put their arms around her.
“He always had a way of making us all laugh,” Sherry said. “The team was lighter when he was around.”
Olivia held back the need to sob.
Sherry looked at Olivia and quickly said, “Crazy about Liv climbing to the top rank, right, Charlotte?”
Mom put her hand on her forehead. “Oh, yes. It’s such bad timing with Rich, but yes.”
They both looked at Olivia.
Olivia cleared her throat and tasted the stale coffee from that morning on her dry lips. “I actually think I’m quitting,” Olivia said.
Sherry scoffed. “Quitting? Quitting what? The golf team to go play with Kanai, I hope.”
Olivia sniffled. “No. Golf.”
Sherry tilted her head and stood speechless.
Mom nodded. “If that’s what you want, darling, I’ll support whatever you want to do.”
“But, Olivia…” Sherry whispered.
“Sherry, I’m done talking about this now.” Olivia turned to her mom. “Mom, I think I decided we can go to Berry’s; I can give them a call.”
“The pizza place?” Mom blurted. “You’re kidding, right? Pizza after a funeral?” Mom said, aghast. “What about your lactose-intolerant cousins—did you think of them? Or how about people who don’t want to get oil on their nice clothes?”
Olivia sighed. “Okay, well, I don’t know then. Just ask Dylan to pick.”
“I’ll just do it,” Mom sputtered as she stomped away.
Sherry shook her head. “Olivia, I’m not dropping this. This is your chance to play pro golf. I repeat. Pro golf. If you don’t take it, you may as well be giving up golf.”
Olivia nodded. “Yeah, Sherry. That’s the point. I’m done with golf forever,” she said.
Sherry scoffed and then shook her head in disbelief. “You know what, Liv, do what you want. But I will be there for you. If you decide to go, I will damn seriously take you there and live with you.”
Olivia chuckled.
“I’m serious.”
Olivia frowned. “Well, that won’t be necessary. I’m making the call to Kanai’s agent tonight.”
Olivia sank into the couch cushions and found solace in the silence. Her achy eyes lingered on her phone’s screensaver of her family—well, Dad and her—after she had won the match five days ago. She unlocked her phone and chewed on her bottom lip as she opened Hana’s contact—Kanai’s agent.
She wondered if making this call was really giving up golf...
The offer was bad timing. It was probably a sign she shouldn’t take it.
Mom interrupted Olivia’s imminent call as she trudged down the stairs.
Dylan lingered beside her with an arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. It’ll be okay.”
Mom hugged the staircase’s wall to prop herself up. As soon as she made her way into the living room, she plopped down on the ottoman near Olivia and gazed at her. Mom’s chin quivered as her breaths drew deeper and deeper while her chest spasmed and her stomach quivered slightly faster than her chin. Mom wailed.
Olivia winced at the burrowing hole in her stomach. How could she leave Mom like this?
She scooted over by Mom to comfort her.
Mom shimmied up and sat straight. “Olivia.” She sniffled. “Please put away your clubs. Sherry left them in the yard. Take Tiger out while you’re at it; he hasn’t gone out all day.”
Olivia frowned. She stumbled through the kitchen to the back door. “Come on, Tiger.”
The red merle Border Collie slogged its way to the door that Olivia held open as they both stepped into the back.
Olivia stood on the maple wood deck and realized she still held her phone. She wished that her dress had pockets like her golf bag did. She looked up at Tiger, who had bolted to the back of the yard. Living beside the 4th hole of a golf course meant that shanked balls appeared in their backyard all the time. Tiger had been trained to collect them and put them in a bucket.
Olivia looked down at her phone. She unlocked it, sighed, and clicked on the contact number. The phone started ringing.
Woof!
Olivia snapped her head upwards. “Quiet, Tiger!”
Woof! Woof!
That’s not like Tiger. Not like Tiger at all. She wondered if he was trying to speak to her.
Olivia ran from the deck into her backyard and noticed that Tiger sat next to a golf ball. His stare looked intent.
“What is it, Tiger?”
Olivia picked up the ball as the wind blew in a silent whisper. She fiddled with it in her hand for a moment and looked at an engraving in the ball: “Trust in Yourself.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. She stepped back and dropped her phone. Olivia rotated the ball to make sure she read it correctly, and the wind’s whispers turned into roars.
She realized that Hana had answered. She hurried to the phone, picked it up and scanned it. She gazed back at the ball, then at the phone again, and back at the ball.
Did her dad leave the ball?
No. How could he?
Olivia looked back down at the phone and ended the call. She quickly sent a message to Hana:
So sorry! Accidentally called.
Olivia rolled the ball in her hand and looked at those words again.
She knew her mom wouldn’t like it, but maybe she could play for just one more week. Olivia knew a decision must be made before the end of the month and that she couldn’t fall from first place.
She looked down at the ball and then up at the wavy sky. Maybe this is her dad trying to speak to her. She smiled and looked back at her phone. She couldn’t make the call anyway; she needed to mentally prepare for the 18 she was playing at Liberty Golf Club’s invitational.
The golf cart trembled along the cracked and creviced path as Olivia’s hands shook on the shuddering wheel. Olivia wiped sweat from her forehead as she drove up to the tee box of hole 6; the driver’s seat felt foreign to her. She paid no attention to the cart path; instead, she fixed her eyes on her scorecard—the worst one she’d seen herself produce in the past six years: nine over par in only five holes. Terrible. She formed a fist and repeatedly tapped her temple. “What the hell are you doing, Liv? What the—"
“Look out!”
Olivia snapped her head up and smashed the brakes. She jolted forward into the steering wheel and looked back to the sound of clanking clubs tumbling out of her bag. She turned to faces of sorrow and concern as she peered at the onlookers around the tee box.
She grimaced at the look of the pitying faces.
Alone in the golf cart, she felt helpless. Coach Remmy offered a ride alongside her, but Olivia refused.
There was only one caddie she’d accept.
“Sorry!” Olivia yelped.
She scooped her clubs from behind and ran to her bag. She fumbled around for the rangefinder. 283 yards to the flag. 235 yards to the front of the water. 250 to the back of the water.
Olivia stretched her neck side to side; she could drive the ball 260 yards on a great day with the right conditions and about 240 yards on average. Using her driver felt risky; she didn’t know what to do. Maybe she should just lay it up and play to a number?
Olivia looked over at the crowd and saw her mom staring down at her phone. Dylan waved to her. Olivia sighed and nodded.
The best player at Stanford, Sarah Fitch, stepped up to hit.
Sarah smashed her driver. Crisp. It sounded beautiful. Olivia stepped back and tracked the ball that cleared the water. She could almost hear it gracefully bounce as it landed on the fairway. Claps ensued.
Olivia kept looking behind her, hoping that Sherry had finished her hole and that she could consult her. Olivia groaned. She looked back at the crowd and met her mom’s eyes.
She didn’t know what to do. Olivia investigated the sea of tyrannizing eyes. She saw someone check their watch and immediately snatched her driver.
Olivia stepped up to the ball and slowly rocked her head side to side. She drew in a breath and rocked the club back and through, loosening her hips and wrists. Olivia drew in another breath and smashed the ball as hard as she could. She stepped back and tracked it.
It coasted through the air, though Olivia already knew its fate. She frowned.
Plop.
The water gulped her ball.
“Water,” someone shouted as the crowd’s collective groans sank with the ball.
Olivia rammed her eyes shut and put her fist on her forehead. Shit. She knew she should have just laid up. She remembered the golf ball from the other night and felt so dumb for thinking her dad somehow sent it. She wished she had called Hana and given up golf.
She discovered one nice thing that day. Driving the cart herself meant she could cry alone.
The next 12 holes dragged on and on, and Olivia started to think that giving up golf really was the best idea she’d had in a long time.
She finished the round and talked to no one as she walked through the noisy clubhouse scattered with circular tables. She noticed her coach trying to make eye contact with her from one of the tables. She hurried to her mom. “Let’s leave,” she said, excited to be alone.
Mom rubbed Olivia’s back. “Sure, but Olivia, don’t you think you should go to your team and your coach?”
“Stop treating me like I’m a 10-year-old, Mom!” Olivia snapped. “I said I want to leave. So, let’s leave!”
Mom put her hand on her chest and leaned back. “Olivia, what’s gotten into you? It was just a suggestion.”
Olivia huffed, and she realized her coach had approached them.
“Olivia, can we talk?” he asked.
Olivia nodded.
“I’ll make it quick, Liv. I just wanted you to know that they can’t all be winners, you know. It’s the game of golf. Don’t give up.”
Olivia feigned a smile. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said.
“But that round will shake up the rankings. You should still rank one, but you can’t afford another round like that. And the Kanai offer—”
“Please…just… stop with the Kanai offer.”
“Olivia! What’s going on?” Mom interjected.
Coach Remmy nodded his head and smiled softly. He put his hand up and said, “I’ll leave you be, Liv; see you soon.”
As soon as he stepped away, Mom took his place and started to speak.
Olivia put her hand to her forehead. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just take me home so that I can go to the range? I want to hang out with Sherry.”
Mom frowned. “Olivia, it hurts me when you don’t tell me your feelings. When you’re not honest with me.”
A quiver ran through Olivia's neck. It was her body's reminder about what might happen if she spoke. That she might have to flinch at the shame of her expressed feelings while they were thrashed from existence.
Olivia shuffled away.
Olivia stood between the steel-arched poles anchored into both sides of the driving range bay. She closed her eyes as she nestled into the summer breeze and the low-setting sun. She placed her bag down and dumped a bucket of golf balls onto the ground as she surveyed the 300-yard range. She let her eyelids fall shut; the breeze swam around her like a gentle whirlpool.
Olivia grabbed her wedge and hit ball after ball, trying to clear her mind. The range was two things: a means of practice and a place to escape—today, she just wanted the escape. She looked up and smiled as Sherry walked toward her and settled into the bay next to Olivia.
“Liv! Hey, girl,” Sherry said, hugging Olivia.
“Hey, Sherry.”
Sherry grabbed a club out of her bag and took some practice swings. “Liv,” Sherry said, waiting until Olivia stopped to face her. “I wanted to apologize for bringing up the Kanai offer at the funeral. It wasn’t the place or the time, and I’m an idiot for not seeing that. I’m sorry.”
Olivia’s neutral expression slipped into a gentle smile. “No worries, Sherry. I appreciate you apologizing.”
“I tend to act before I think. No, not a tendency. I just do. I do, then I think. It gets me into trouble sometimes.”
“That still amazes me, you know,” Olivia said, stepping back and pulling a golf ball in front of her with her club. “The fact that you just do something without thought. What about the alternatives?”
Sherry pulled a ball in front of her and swung her wedge. Both girls looked out at the 75-yard marker—a wood board with the number on it—as the ball nailed it. “You see, when I just do, the results come. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.” Sherry put another ball in front of her and swung. “If I start to think, I play terrible. Probably the worst part of my game right now.”
Olivia chuckled. “What, thinking?”
Sherry laughed and shook her head. Then she looked up at Olivia with serious eyes. “How’s everything been at home?”
“It’s been… hard. You know my mom.”
“I do. How are you managing?”
“Well, I’m not, really. I just kind of live in anxiety at home, mostly about what my mom will do when she finds out that I haven’t turned down Kanai’s offer yet.”
Olivia pulled out her driver and teed a ball up lower than normal and placed it farther back in her stance—granting her more control over the shot. She hit a penetrating shot that nailed the 210-yard marker.
Sherry grinned. “You ripped that—nice shot! I don’t want to pry too much into your Kanai decision because I still feel bad about being disrespectful at the funeral, so I won’t. I’ll just say I’m happy you’re not giving up golf…,” she said, biting her lip and shaking her leg.
Olivia chuckled as she shook her head. “The words look like they’re going to burst through your eyes. You can ask.”
“So, you’re going to take it?” Sherry blurted.
“Not sure yet,” Olivia said, hitting the 210-yard penetrating drive again. “How do you make big decisions, Sherry?” she asked.
Sherry leaned on the arch between them. “I ask myself: what would make the most interesting story? Then, I choose that path. That probably tells you everything about what I think you should do, but I won’t go there unless you want me to.”
Olivia smiled. “No, I’ll pass.” Another 210-yard drive hit the marker. “But thank you.”
“Did you just nail the same spot three times in a row with your driver? No damn wonder you’re the best,” Sherry said, amazed.
They both hit for another 10 minutes in silence.
Sherry looked up at Olivia. “Match this shot,” Sherry said, pulling a nine-iron and hitting the 100-yard marker.
“What would you hit if you were me?” Liv asked.
“Nine.”
“Hmm. I’m going to use my wedge.”
Olivia mirrored the shot.
“Again,” Sherry said, lightly swinging and hitting the 25-yard marker.
“How about now?” Olivia asked.
Sherry tightened her lips and said nothing.
Olivia looked over her bag and bounced between her 60-, 56-, and 52-degree wedges. She considered hitting a 60-degree off her front foot—what she felt most comfortable with—but she also knew that most talented players looked for a shot from their back foot first, hitting a lower, more controlled shot. After what felt like forever, Olivia decided that she would go with the 56-degree wedge and try to hit from her back foot.
She stepped over to her bag, and, as she reached for the club, she saw her phone sitting on the counter next to her bag and realized her mom expected her home about 15 minutes ago. Six notifications from her mom hovered on the screen, but Olivia didn’t want to unlock the phone to see what the messages said.
Her eyes widened, and she froze, looking over her bag.
Olivia stepped back and sat down on the bench behind her. “Forget it. I’m done for today,” she said. “But I’m just going to sit and stay for a while.”
Sherry frowned. “Okay, Liv… I think you know this already, but anything you need to talk about, please let me know. And remember, if no one is behind you, I’ll take you to Japan myself. Don’t hesitate to ask.”
Olivia frowned and nodded. Her thoughts jumped from Kanai to her mom, to maintaining first place, to what club she should have chosen, to whether she should go back and take the shot, to wishing her dad would be there when she got home.
She preferred to sit there in anxiety, though. The mere thought of going home turned the anxiety into the feeling of an endless free fall, and she knew that what awaited her at home was worse than what she felt at that moment.
Olivia stepped into her house, and, before she could set her bag down, Mom barraged her. “Olivia, what took you so long? You were supposed to be home over an hour ago, and you didn’t answer my calls or texts!”
“I was just taking my time, Mom,” Olivia said as she set her bag down and took her shoes off.
Mom leaned on the stair railing directly in front of the entrance. “Well, I know. You just scare me when you do that.”
Olivia walked past Mom into the kitchen. She saw cold pizza on the counter—which she loved—so she grabbed a slice and sat down on the couch.
Mom marched into the living room, sat nearby, and fixed her piercing eyes on Olivia.
Olivia sighed and leaned her head back. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Mom sat up firmly. “I was talking to my therapist, and we agreed it would be important for me to tell you something that’s been on my mind, Olivia,” she said, clearing her throat. “I am having trouble grieving your dad, and I just feel like the more you’re away from me—” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “I feel like I’m being abandoned, and it’s making it harder for me to grieve Dad!”
Olivia set her plate down, quickly walked over to her mom, and hugged her.
They both cried.
Olivia sat back down. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. I’m just finding my own method of—” Olivia stopped speaking when Dylan walked into the room.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned his head to Mom’s shoulder and rubbed her back.
“Mom feels like I’m not here enough to help her grieve.” Olivia frowned.
“Oh, you’re telling her now, Mom? Why didn’t you come and get me?” Dylan asked.
“Wait… You two talked about this?” Olivia asked as the silence started to settle like a dense fog. “You feel that way too, Dylan?” she asked.
Dylan looked at Mom and back at Olivia. “Yes, I do. The more you’re here, the happier we are. It’s just easier with you around, Liv,” he said.
Olivia sighed. “Okay, look, sorry. I just… I just feel like being out on the golf course is helping me through this.”
“But Olivia,” Mom cried, “it’s a time to be with family! I’m just starting to feel like you’re abandoning us and—”
“And what?” Olivia asked, tilting her head.
“And abandoning the memory of your father.”
Olivia sighed. This day stretched forever. She felt like she had nothing left, and yet, with what remained, she cried.
“But Mom. Can you see where I’m coming from? How I have my own way of dealing with this?”
Mom sat straighter and her frown deepened. “Olivia, are you not hearing me, though? I feel like you’re abandoning me, and I feel like I need you here more, but you’re here less. It’s just so hurtful.”
Olivia sat silent with her head tilted, and she looked at the ground. What would Dad say?
No words came to her. The burning tightness increased as she experimented with crafting the right sentence in her head.
Olivia tried to find the right words. She tried. She stood, started to speak, but she didn’t mean what came out. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
Maybe Mom was right after all.
Olivia trudged to the front, clenched her bag, slouched through the living room, then into the kitchen and arrived at the back door. She shoved the door open and marched to the garage.
The outside air felt like stepping into a new world. Like her brain had been contained in a bubble and her senses were dancing with the smell of freshly cut fairway grass, and the smooth, humid, and restful air placed its hand around her cheek.
She inhaled deeply and felt the weight of her eyelids. Almost no energy remained. She headed back and nearly twisted her ankle as she stepped on a golf ball. She picked it up and turned the ball every which way, but it was blank. She sighed.
After a couple more steps, she saw another ball.
She picked it up and read: “Never Alone.”
Her arms buzzed. Her ears seemed to vibrate.
It must be him!
Olivia smiled.
A jolt of energy ran through her limbs, like the ball was an energy source that activated something—something that had been sleeping.
She felt confident thinking about tomorrow when she just needed to retain her first-place position so that she could keep the Kanai offer on the table and have the clarity she needed to make her decision.
The ball rattled at the bottom of the 18th hole’s cup and what was usually a relieving sound sent anxiety shockwaves through Olivia. She shut her eyes and smiled, feigning satisfaction as people clapped. She opened her eyes to her mom and Dylan chatting with Coach Remmy.
Olivia frowned. Not her worst game. Not her best. The course was simple, too, so her impending conversation worried her. She plodded to the clubhouse and approached Coach Remmy.
“So, break it to me. Will my ranking move?” she asked.
Coach Remmy sighed. “It looks like it will, Olivia. Sorry. It’s not that you played bad today, just the adjustments based on the course difficulty and the playing field will likely send you down a rank.”
Olivia wilted. “Okay,” she said as she strolled away.
She walked out into the parking lot where Dylan caught up with her. “Hey, Liv, what’s wrong? You don’t look so happy.”
Olivia shook her head. “I dropped from number one.”
“Oh man, Liv, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry for what?” Mom interrupted as they approached the car.
“Liv dropped from number one,” Dylan said.
“Oh, Olivia, I’m so—”
“Stop it. No, you’re not. You haven’t been supportive of me and my golf career. I know you hate it!” Olivia snapped. “Without Dad, I feel like no one cares,” Olivia choked.
Dylan put his hand up to speak. “Well, Liv, being together as a family is—”
“That goes for you too, Dylan! You just do whatever Mom wants.” Olivia spat.
He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his feet. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“Olivia, I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Mom muttered.
“Well, believe it!”
Olivia started walking away from the car.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked.
“I’ll find my own way home,” Olivia said, hauling away her bag of clubs.
Olivia stood at the kitchen island with her arms crossed, feeling like the lighting reflecting off the black granite was assaulting her. Mom scooped ice cream into two bowls for herself and Dylan and set them onto the island.
Mom looked at Olivia as she put the ice cream back into the fridge. “So, are you going to say anything, or are you going to just stand there?” she asked.
It felt right to stand up to Mom and Dylan in the parking lot, but now Olivia felt awful.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Olivia. That was disrespectful. Especially in front of all those people,” Mom said, eating a spoonful of ice cream.
Olivia hopped on a stool at the island. She rubbed her fingers on her palms and crinkled her toes. She didn’t want to fight back. It felt too unnerving, but she said, “Mom, I’m tired of you not considering my feelings. My experience is different from yours.”
Mom looked over at Dylan, who sat with a craned neck staring down into the bowl.
Mom set her spoon down. “Well, it’s hard for me because of Richie’s death.” She tightened her lips and started to cry. “I just miss him so much. And Liv, I have been showing up to your games; I’m trying to support you the best I can.”
Olivia sighed. Maybe Mom’s right. Olivia regretted exploding but still didn’t feel right about the situation.
Olivia forced a smile. “You’re not the only one who lost him, Mom. But yes, I do see you trying…and I’m sorry for the outburst,” she said.
Mom grinned and audibly moaned as the ice cream melted in her mouth. “Well, Olivia, you seem to be taking this all so well, you know. You’re out playing golf nearly every day at this point. Your dad died less than two weeks ago.”
Olivia picked her head up and moved her gaze from the spotless granite to her mom’s eyes. “Just because it seems that way, Mom, doesn’t mean it is that way. It hasn’t been easy…” Olivia clenched her jaw and tried her best to hold back tears.
Olivia felt like a single frayed thread held her from falling into an endless abyss. She realized that finding the golf balls had helped tremendously, and she wondered what Mom and Dylan would think about it.
Mom sighed. “Well, is there any way you can help us? What tips do you have besides golfing? You know I can’t swing a club to save my life.” She chuckled.
“Do you really want to know what’s been helping me?” Olivia asked.
Mom spooned her ice cream. “Do share.”
Olivia looked from her mom to Dylan. “Dylan, you haven’t been etching sayings into golf balls and throwing them into the yard, have you?” she asked.
Dylan lifted his head and furrowed his brows. “Huh?”
“Okay, well, this is going to sound crazy.” Olivia shot up and ran over to the window above the kitchen sink and pointed to the backyard. “I’ve been finding golf balls with sayings etched into them that Dad used to say to me! It’s like he’s trying to communicate with me! Maybe if you all go out—”
Mom twisted her stool with a maddening smile on her face and scoffed. “Olivia, you sound like a crazy lady!”
Olivia ran over to the other side of the island to face her mom. “No, Mom! It’s true! Well, at least, it feels true. It feels meaningful!”
A silent bang came from upstairs.
“Ah yes, and there he is calling me to go upstairs. Be right up, Richard!” Mom cackled.
Dylan held back a laugh. “Mom, that’s just Tiger jumping from the bed.”
The edges of Olivia’s mouth reached her quivering chin. “You’re awful.”
“Oh, come now, Olivia. It was only a joke,” Mom said as she smiled.
“She was only kidding, Liv,” Dylan said.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Olivia.” Mom stood and put her bowl into the sink; she turned back to Olivia, already leaving the room. “How did Kanai take you turning down the offer?”
Olivia walked back into the kitchen. “I haven’t called her yet. I’m leaning towards going, actually.”
Mom stopped washing the bowl and stared out the window into the backyard. She turned around, and the lighting felt like it dimmed. Like at the flip of a switch, Mom had the power to alter the room to match the mood she wanted it to carry. Like she could alter space and time to get what she wanted.
Mom stalked to the counter and slowly laid her hands down, mirroring Olivia but towering over her. “You would leave your brother and me to play internationally? Olivia, we would almost never see you, and at a time like this?”
Olivia’s legs trembled. “Mom, it’s good for me. I think this is what is helping me grieve. This is what Dad would have wanted for me. It’s what he did want for me, and maybe that’s why those golf balls keep appearing,” she stammered.
Mom crossed her arms and slowly paced back and forth; her under-eyes looked like storm clouds. “Olivia, I would just be so worried,” she said in a whispered hiss like she was casting a spell, “and on top of your dad dying, plus the chances of you getting hurt. The fact that we will rarely see each other. You’d be leaving us alone. I don’t want to use this word, but it’s a little selfish, Olivia.” She paused and sat back down. “Please, Olivia. Think about us too. Of course, think about you, but we’re also important here.”
Olivia stood and bit her bottom lip but said nothing.
“Olivia, this is as hard for us as it is for you. What if something happens to you? I would never forgive myself. Have you thought through what you’ll do for a living situation? Money? What about schooling?”
Olivia sat down on the stool, legs weak, lifted her shoulders close to her ears, and held her head low, almost folding into her bent arms on the kitchen island. “I haven’t gotten that far yet; it just feels like something I need to do.”
Mom circled around the island and sat next to Olivia. “Please just stay for me at least. Please, Olivia? I’d never forgive myself if you died or if something awful happened to you.”
Olivia’s body trembled, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She perked up to speak but could barely say anything. Mom wrapped her arms around Olivia, and they cried.
“Okay, fine. I’ll stay,” Olivia murmured.
The faint bird chirps engulfed hole thirteen where the trees swayed in a familiar dance as if they were greeting her. The slight breeze off the sunlit fresh water running along the back nine of the course reminded Olivia of when she first started playing golf. The first time she swung a club was here with her dad. The nostalgia made her feel like a kid again. She maneuvered the pushcart to a gentle stop and grabbed her pitching wedge.
She looked up at the hole. Focused and relaxed.
Par-3. Slight breeze to the right, 113 yards away.
She dropped the ball on the grass tee box.
She was four under par. Six under would put her back in first, and that would put the Kanai offer back on the table. She decided that she would call Hana first thing when she climbed back to the top.
Olivia had thought about what she said to her mom and realized that though her mom made a compelling case, and though it was a hard moment, she was going to do what felt right. That was leaving.
Olivia lined up with perfectly straight feet. She decided she was going to barely play into the wind and mostly aim directly for the hole. She took a practice backswing to get a feel for the distance. She pulled back and swung.
She looked up at the ball path as the sun followed it and it bounced on the front of the green and rolled to a gentle stop, three feet from the hole. Olivia pumped her fist and smiled at the crowd of onlookers as they applauded. She caught her mom’s blank expression as she clapped the way Olivia imagined a corpse would if it could.
Olivia decided she wouldn’t think about her mom or her brother so she could focus on the game. Olivia finished the hole with a birdie, which brought her score to five under par.
Through the next four holes, Olivia managed to arrive at the leading score of the day—seven under—which was also the best score by any UF golfer that season.
Olivia stepped up to the 18th hole for an eight-foot putt for par. She tilted her head up and saw the putting line. She looked back down. The crowd grew silent. She looked back up one time and caught her mom’s vicious gaze; Olivia shuddered. She pulled her putter back and, on the way forward, she pushed the ball too hard and missed an easy putt.
She still finished six under par, which put her back in first place.
Olivia felt proud of herself for that round, and it dawned on her that she only needed herself to play a good game of golf. It sounded silly to her when she thought that, but for the longest time she didn’t know if it was true.
Olivia’s unbreakable smile shattered when she couldn’t find Mom.
She spent the next 15 minutes walking around the clubhouse asking if anyone had seen her—nothing.
The sun had officially set. Olivia stood around the fringe of the green and took her last two chips as she saw the golf course superintendent approaching.
“Course is closing,” he said, looking over his shoulder. He shrugged. “Sorry, still no sign of her.”
Olivia put her club back in her bag and collected her balls. “Okay, I’m finished.”
She picked her bag up and walked to the empty parking lot toward Mom’s lonely car.
Where the hell could she have gone?
Olivia had spent the past couple of hours worrying. She called Dylan, and he had no clue either. She wondered if she should call the police but decided to give it time in hopes that her mom would eventually show. Her worry deepened now that the course was closing.
Olivia took one last walk through the clubhouse, called Mom for the tenth time, and figured she’d check the car one more time before she caved to her internal debate about ordering a ride-share to take her home—where she and Dylan would decide what to do next.
As Olivia approached the car, she saw a silhouette in the driver’s seat. She rushed to the car with her clanking clubs and saw her mom rubbing her eyes.
“Mom!” Olivia shouted. “Open the door. Where were you?”
Mom put her hand on her chest and jumped. She unlocked the doors, and Olivia threw her bag in the trunk and sprang into the car.
“Mom, where were you?” Olivia shouted, jumping in the car. “I’ve been trying to find you for over four hours!”
Mom cleared her throat and blinked vigorously while shaking her head. “Oh, sorry, I was just taking time to think.”
Olivia held her hands open. “Mom. I’m going to need more than that! Time to think?”
Mom ignored Olivia and started the car. She hit the gas, turned on her Bluetooth, and played Billy Joel’s “Vienna.”
Olivia sat with her arms crossed and scoffed. What’s wrong with her? Mom would have lectured Olivia if she had disappeared for hours.
As they approached the driveway, Mom lowered the music. “Oh, I gave Hana a call for you, by the way. I told her you were turning down the offer like you said.”
Olivia turned slowly and could hear her heart beating through her ears. “You. Did. What?” Olivia muttered.
Mom rolled up to the driveway and put the car in park. “Yes, remember you said that was fine? I figured I would help you do it since you have trouble making decisions at times.”
“Mom! Is that what you were doing all that time? I wanted to think about it more; I said fine because that was a heated and emotional conversation! What the hell, Mom!”
Mom pulled the keys from the car. “Olivia, the decision is made. They took it pretty hard, but what’s done is done. Besides, you can still play here, right?”
Olivia sighed and banged her hand on the dashboard. “Mom, don’t you get it? I wanted to make the decision. It’s important that I get to do that. Don’t you see that?”
“Yes, you are right. I thought you did make it. I was just helping you execute,” she murmured with a hoarse voice.
Olivia gazed over at Mom and at that moment realized where she had been the entire time.
Olivia frowned. “Whatever,” she said, shaking her head and looking at her feet.
Mom lit up. “Yes, Olivia, that’s great that you’ll stay! You will play excellent golf here. I know it! You’ll have your brother and me, and we’ll have you, and it’ll be a wonderful time. I’m so happy that you understand my point of view and that you’re going to stick to your guns on the decision you made the other day.” Tears were running down her cheeks, and she twisted to face Olivia. “I love you, Liv.”
Olivia shifted her shoulders up. “Love you too, Mom,” she muttered. “I’ll be in the back hitting golf balls.”
Olivia dragged herself to the garage and leaned her heavy bag against the dusty paneling. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled through the grass, searching for golf balls. She had hoped that there would be at least one with some message to help her. She looked up at the sky and said, “Please, Dad, what should I do?”
Olivia rolled onto her back and then popped up to her feet in a moment. She ran across the yard looking for any golf ball she could find. She ran to the golf bag. She clawed into the ball pouch and sifted through the entire thing. She huffed and put her back to the garage, closing her eyes and sliding to the ground; her elbows hit her knees and her hands collapsed to her head.
In that moment, Olivia could have been given the world, and it wouldn’t have felt like enough. Like no matter how far she reached, she couldn’t grab what she wanted. The air smelled a touch too thick with freshly cut grass, but she wanted the dewy smell of uncut grass; the darkness brought a rare dry heat, though she wanted humidity; and in that moment a dark thought crossed her mind.
She would have preferred her mom were lying in the casket and not her dad.
Olivia sobbed as if the grief had been dragged up from her gut and propelled out through her eyes.
“What should you do, Liv?” she asked herself.
A thought struck Olivia. It was an answer.
It was the answer.
A butterfly gently flapped its wings and landed in the grass next to Olivia. She rested her head back on the garage and tightened her lips.
Olivia looked at her life spread across three bags: a large suitcase, a smaller carry-on suitcase, and a backpack. The last bag waited in the garage.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked herself. Olivia stood nodding in the mirror. “Yes, Liv.”
Her anxiety increased in proportion to the increasingly louder steps from the bottom of the staircase.
“Liv!” Mom shouted up the stairs. “Can you choose two to three breakfast places, and we can talk over which one to order from?”
“I’ll just pick one!” she shouted back down. She unlocked her phone, found the closest brunch restaurant, and sent it to Mom. She got the text from Sherry:
On my way. 10 minutes.
Olivia took a deep breath. “Okay, Liv, you can do this.”
Olivia rolled her bags to the top of the stairs. She put her backpack on and tiptoed downstairs with the smaller bag. She went back up and returned with the large suitcase.
She sighed. Once she got her clubs, she had everything that mattered.
Mom turned and leaned back from the couch as she heard the bags rolling around the front of the stairs. Olivia heard the TV shut off, and Mom rushed over.
“What is this?” she blurted. “Olivia… Did we not make our decision?”
“That was the problem, Mom. We did make our decision, but I didn’t. I know what’s right for me. I need to do this.”
Mom towered, but Olivia saw what was coming. “Mom, you’re not talking me out of this. My bags are packed. Airplane tickets are purchased. Sherry is on the way, and we’re going to live in Japan together.”
Mom’s face became dark. “I’ll call the police.”
“Mom…” Olivia gasped, “I’m nineteen. There’s nothing they can do.”
“Dylan! Dylan! Get down here!” Mom sprinted up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Dylan!”
The door creaked open.
“Get downstairs now!” Mom ran back down the stairs and pointed at Olivia. “Get down and say bye to your sister. She’s leaving us!” Mom said, throwing her arms up.
Dylan walked down the stairs slowly, rubbing his eyes, and then slumped into Olivia’s arms. Mom squinted with dismay.
“Be safe. Love you, Liv,” Dylan whispered.
Olivia squeezed back and leaned to his ear. “Find your way, Dylan. Love you,” she whispered.
Dylan walked back up the stairs and slammed the door.
Mom paced into the kitchen, huffing at every turn. She grabbed her hair and ruffled it around. “Olivia. Olivia. What did I do wrong?” she said. “What did I do wrong as a mother?”
“Mom, I need to do this. I know it will be hard, but we have phones. We can video call. You can visit me, and I can visit you. This isn’t the end of us seeing each other.”
Mom paced toward Olivia and sat on the bench close to the foyer where Olivia stood. “Olivia, if you go…if you go…what if I forget how he laughed?”
Olivia raised her eyebrows.
“What if I forget how he laughed? Will there be anyone left here to remember? To remind me of it? I’m afraid I won’t remember the way he smiled when he was with you.”
“Mom, I know it’s hard. The timing is hard. We need to try and find a way to move on. This is the way for me, and I know it conflicts with yours, but I need this, Mom. I need this badly.”
Mom started to bite her nails on her quivering hand; her feet rattled and bounced up and down while the black nightgown trembled as her legs shook and shook.
“Olivia, please. How about you stay for just one more month? You can think this over a little more before leaving? Please, for me?”
Olivia sighed with closed eyes. She tried not to look at her mom; she knew this was going to be hard, but the pain and guilt were so immense that Olivia wondered if she should stay. Just for one more month…
Olivia opened her eyes and looked into Mom’s. “I’m going.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed and her expression sharpened into a weapon.
“You know, Olivia,” Mom muttered as she bounced her legs and launched herself to her feet, pointing at Olivia. “Without us, you wouldn’t even have golf, and now you’re leaving me? It’s disrespectful and terribly hurtful!” Mom pulled her finger back from Olivia.
Though Olivia struggled to speak, she picked her shoulders up and said, “I love you, Mom.”
Mom shook her head and sat back on the bench, sobbing uncontrollably. She screeched, and snot and tears covered her face.
Olivia clutched at her chest and started crying, struggling to breathe; she knew she had to leave.
Olivia rolled the golf cart through the narrow pathway and arrived at the row of headstones where they buried her dad. It was the only cemetery in all of Gainesville where visitors needed a golf cart to get to the gravesite, and it was the reason her dad chose it. Everyone thought it was a tacky choice, but Olivia loved it. She came to a stop and looked at Sherry. “Can you let me go alone first, please?”
“Sure thing, Olivia. We still have tons of time until we have to be at the airport.”
“You sure your mom is okay with this, Sherry?”
“With what? Leaving to go to Japan? Olivia, she nearly pushed me out of the house. She said it sounded like the right adventure for us,” Sherry said.
Olivia smiled and stepped from the cart.
She sat at her dad’s headstone and rubbed her hand over the “Loving Father” engraving.
Olivia looked up at the sky where the sun spotlighted her dad’s grave. The pain that sat in her stomach and the thoughts of what her mom would do went away. She shut her eyes and heard the wind’s whispers.
“I love you, Dad.”
Olivia reached into her pocket, pulled out the two etched golf balls, and placed them down on the grave. She shut her eyes and smiled as her hair fluttered in the late summer wind. She had a lot of upcoming change to navigate, but she was excited to find her way through it.
The End