She was gazing down at me, running her fingers through my dark hair. “C’mon, I’m in the mood for mini-golf.”
I laughed, and we headed out.
***
“I’m not distracting you, am I?”
Sandy laughed at me, waving her putter. “You know very well you are. Now get down so I can hit.”
I continued to balance on the small, flat stone next to the hole. “I’m not stopping you.”
Sandy shook her head and took her stance beside her ball. Her eyes narrowed, and I could almost feel her concentration solidify. She looked down at her blue golf ball, back to the hole, and then down again. I waved my arms a little, but I doubt she noticed, her arms moving like a pendulum as she sent her ball rolling towards its goal. It hit the hole dead center, dropping in with that distinctive plastic ‘thunk’.
“Yes!” Sandy pumped her fist as I groaned. “Another two for me.”
I jumped down off the rock I was standing on and tapped my ball in for a three. “No fair, you’re too good at this.”
“Me? You’re the one who threw the gauntlet down.”
“I take it all back. Have mercy.” It’s true, I’d gotten a hole-in-one on my very first shot, and I admit I’d talked a little trash. Of course, since then Sandy had absolutely demolished me.
“Mercy is for the weak.” She set her ball down on the next tee. “Did I tell you that I was a scratch golfer in high school?”
“Figures.”
“I actually got recruited to play golf at several schools, but I liked field hockey better. And you couldn’t get to the Olympics as a golfer. At least not then.”
She sent her ball down the Astroturf fairway, just missing the stonework on the left side and gliding around the sand hazard. The blue orb cozied up to the hole for another tap in two. I hit mine right into the sand. “Shit!”
“Oh, baby.” She put her arm around me and kissed me on the temple. For the briefest moment I leaned into her and the comfort she provided, but as I opened my eyes I saw people watching us, and I jumped away.
Sandy looked at me, concerned, before following my eyes to the people watching us. I saw anger flash in her eyes. “You can’t let them bother you.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, we’ll talk about everything later. Now I’m going to finish kicking your butt.”
“You are, huh?”
“Well,” she lowered her voice, moving just a little closer, “There’re plenty of other things I’d like to do with that cute butt of yours, but they’ll have to wait ’til we get home.” She moved up the short fairway, flashing me a wicked smile that made my cheeks heat up, not to mention some of my other bits.
Sandy refrained from any other overt PDA’s for the rest of the round, although she didn’t stop teasing me, making me very hot and flustered by the time we finished. As we climbed back into Sandy’s Jeep she reached out and took my hand. “That was fun. I haven’t played mini-golf since I was in high school. Maybe college.”
I nodded. “Paige and the boys loved it when they were younger. It’s been awhile, though. It’ll teach me to challenge former Olympians to sports. How are you at board games?”
Sandy laughed, her rich alto voice filling the Jeep. “Maybe we can find out. So what are you making me for dinner?”
I stared at her for the non sequitur, laughing. “What? When did we decide that?”
“Just now. I figure I won the game, so you have to cook me dinner. Doesn’t that seem fair to you?
My eyes narrowed and I cocked my head to the side. “Would you have made me dinner if I’d have won?”
Sandy made a face and shook her head. “Sweetie, you weren’t going to win.”
“That’s probably true.”
Sandy made her eyes big, with a little begging in her voice. “I’d let you cook anything you want, something that your kids don’t like. I’m not picky.”
That did hit home. Charlie was very hard to please, food-wise, and Will wasn’t much better. “Okay, chicken curry. Charlie won’t touch it, and I love Indian food.”
“You’ve got a deal. Do we need to go to the store?”
“Yep, there’s a Fresh Market on the way back to the house.”
I guided Sandy to the aforementioned store, and we grabbed some organic boneless, skinless chicken thighs before heading to the international food section. We found the Indian section easily, and there were multiple jars of sauce, each sporting names that didn’t mean anything to me.
“I didn’t realize there were so many.” I bit my finger, staring at the selection.
“Well, let’s see. The Rogan Josh is mild, the Vindaloo is spicier. Tikka Masala, of course, that’s pretty standard.”
“I think I want the spicy one.”
“The spicy one it is.”
I grabbed one of the jars of Vindaloo Sauce and dropped it into the basket I was carrying. “I have rice at home, do we need anything else?”
“Seriously? Wine, of course. Silly girl.”
I giggled and we headed over toward that section of the store.
Sandy looked over the selections. “Ooh, this would go well. I haven’t had this in a while.
I looked at the label. “What’s a Gewurztraminer?” Unfortunately I didn’t get the answer.
“Melanie!”
I felt a block of ice drop into my chest as I heard my name from my left. I spun on my heel, away from Sandy. I realized my mouth was hanging open and I tried to pull it shut.
“Melanie.”
“Penny, Hi”
Penny leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. “We missed you at church this morning.”
“Yeah, sorry, just, I, uh.” What was I doing? Shit, Melanie, think of something! “I had a late night, didn’t sleep well.”
“Oh, I understand that. Hello.” She turned to Sandy, who was standing too close to me. She held out her hand.
“Sorry, Penny, this is my friend Sandra. Bill has the kids this weekend, so we’re just doing a girl’s night. Sandy, this is Penelope Hobson, she and her husband go to my church. Her husband’s one of the deacons.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sandra.”
“Likewise.”
Penny’s eyes flashed down to the bottle of wine Sandy was holding before she turned back to me. “You missed it, this morning. We all prayed for Tabitha’s daughter Nina, she’s, um, well she’s in trouble and needs your prayers, She and that boyfriend of hers, if you know what I mean. And Donna Jo, pray for her and her husband, he’s well, you know, again.” I did know, it was well established that John enjoyed knocking a few back down at the bar. Of course, if I were married to Donna Jo I probably would, too. “And Paula Ray’s daughter, Sophie, you should have seen what she was wearing today. Her skirt didn’t come halfway to her knees. And she used to be such a sweet little girl. I’m just glad you never let Paige wear anything like that. Pray for her.”
I kept from rolling my eyes through sheer force of will. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Penny, but we need to get going, don’t want to be too late.”
Penny said goodbye and ‘nice to meet you’ as she smiled a big, fake smile and backed away, looking back and forth between me and Sandy a couple of times before heading down one of the aisles with her basket.
“So,” Sandy leaned in towards me, “you reckon anyone’s ever told her gossip’s a sin?”
“Gossip?” The sarcasm was strong in my voice. “That’s not gossip, those were just prayer requests.” I took a breath. “Seriously, though, let’s get out of here.”
“Yup.” We took our basket, including the wine, up to the checkout and paid, Sandy handing over her card. That was nice of her, because the wine she’d picked wasn’t exactly the cheap stuff I usually bought.
I tossed the bags into the back seat of Sandy’s Jeep before climbing inside and fastening my seatbelt. My head flopped back against the headrest, and I groaned. “I cannot believe we ran into Penelope Hobson on our, well, almost our first time out in public.”
“Is that bad?”
“Well, she’s gonna want to know who you are, and she’ll ask about it. Notice I didn’t give her your last name. Hopefully that’ll slow her down a bit. If we’re lucky something else will draw her attention and she’ll forget about us.” I took a breath. “Sandy, can I ask you a question?” Sandy nodded. “If she does figure out who you are, is there anything online that would, um, where she could tell that you’re gay?”
“Not that I know of. I’ve never really hidden it with friends and family, at least not since college, but I’ve never come out publicly. There really isn’t that much media attention for Field Hockey, even in the Olympics.”
“Okay.” My voice sounded scared, and Sandy looked concerned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so worried about this.”
Sandy’s eyes were kind. “It’s fine. Tell you what, let’s go back to your place, make dinner, and we’ll talk.”
“Talk, is that bad?”
“No.” She reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “But I want us to be on the same page here. And I want to make sure I know what you need to be comfortable with us.”
I nodded, and I tried to put the whole incident out of my mind as Sandy pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the house. When we got back Sampson hopped up on the counter in the kitchen, completely unfazed by Sandy’s presence. Sampson meowed and butted his head against her hand.
“If you give him some treats he’ll love you forever.” I pointed to the cabinet above the tabby, and she dug out the bag of treats, laying a few on the counter. Delilah, hearing the familiar sound, poked her head into the kitchen as well. I left Sandy to her new friends, setting out a cutting board and unwrapping the chicken. I pulled the Chef’s knife from my knife block and set to work.
After a few slices two arms encircled my waist and soft lips pressed themselves against my neck.
I giggled before brandishing my knife at her. “Hey, working with sharp objects here.”
“Okay, what can I do to help?”
I nodded towards the far wall. “Grab the big cast iron. Put it on the big burner on high and add some vegetable oil, in the cabinet. Then I’ll need some flour in a Ziploc bag to coat the chicken.”
“Geez, sorry I asked.” She kissed my neck again and moved away.