Penny Max and the Runaway Lottery Ticket: Hilton Head Chronicles Part 1

II. In Which Lawrence T. Wellington III is Late for his Coffee Date

Warm up: "Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town" by Kenny Rogers

Lawrence "Lar-Lar" T. Wellington III, 71, (pronounced Lair-Lair) had been divorced three times, or so it was believed, at Palmetto Dunes golf course. Many considered him the golf pro because when any older lady of means came in to the pro shop, he would suavely come around the corner and offer to give them a few pointers. The actual golf pro Edwin "E.J." James Houlihan, just shrugged when it happened. He preferred the younger girls, even though the older ones had more money.

"Hey Mr. W," said E.J.over his shoulder as he dug through a pile of shirts hanging against the wall looking for a 2x for a customer. "Hello Mr. James," said Lar-Lar formally, always formally. "And how are you today? Keeping out of trouble?" E.J. grunted an affirmative answer as he reached up over his head to get his hands on the last 2x in the row of polos. Then the bells rang on the pro shop front door. As E.J. got his head out of the shirts to see who was walking in, he saw the silver-haired oldster heading suavely to the door, so just continued to go through the shirts. He knew it was one of Lar-Lar's 'clients'.

A woman dressed like she was 40 but with the wrinkles of 70 came in through the door, with the unasked question of looking for the golf pro. Within minutes Lawrence "Lar-Lar" T. Wellington III had the situation well in hand, helping her pick out the perfect (and most expensive) golf sticks in the shop. As E.J. stepped down off this step-ladder, he shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled. The minor annoyance of Mr. W hanging at the pro shop three days a week was reduced by the extraordinary sales that occurred when he took on new 'clients.' So the actual Palmetto Dunes golf pro just ignored the oldster and focused on the clients that were his own age.

On the dot at 3 PM Tuesday, Lar-Lar walked through the door of the golf pro shop. With his usual suavity, he doffed his visor to the golf pro. "Mr. James, until next time." Patting the roll of money in his pocket, he headed to his convertible, a cherry red 2005 Porsche Boxster. He had a date at 3:30 PM every Tuesday and it was one he never missed, even if a wealthy aging widow walked through the pro shop door. He just left them to E.J. at that point.

As he got into his convertible, he double checked his watch, which almost made the Rolex cut. "Right on time," he said nodding his head. Then he reached into his glove box and pulled out a paper which he also nodded over. Then he headed toward the mainland, toward Bluffton. A coffee shop was his destination. But before that stop, he pulled into the carry-out lane of a diner, a popular tourist stop with a big kitschy bear statue that families took pictures in front of. As he waited behind a mini-van full of kids, He looked at the paper in his hand again, this time grabbing a pen and scratching out something on the paper. Then he wrote something on the paper after a moment.

The mini-van pulled away and he pulled up to the window. He asked for Jeff the manager. The teenager staffing the window scampered away to find him. Less than 2 minutes later, a blonde-haired blue-eyed 20-something with an almost perfect smile (if you looked closely you could see he was missing an incisor on his left side) came to the window and greeted Lar-Lar.

"Hey my friend, how can I help you?" Lar-Lar passed him the paper he had in his hand and Jeff the manager looked it over and nodded his head. "Ok I can put this order in for you but it won't be ready until tomorrow," he said with a smile to Lar-Lar. Then he asked the teenager behind him to get his friend Lar-Lar a cup of decap coffee with extra sugar to go. The teenager watched as Jeff the manager smoothly walked away from the to-go window and then she stepped over to the coffee machine to get Lar-Lar his cup of joe. She handed him the cup out the window and said gravely "Be safe." He took the cup and laughed and said "You be safe yourself young miss." He pulled away from the window and she carefully wiped down the to-go window counter as she watched him leave.

Lar-Lar enjoyed the looks he received as he headed down William Hilton Highway, believing he made a pretty dashing figure in his red convertible Porsche to the aging widows and divorcees that enjoyed a summer visit to the island. He enjoyed the drive as he drove over the connecting bridge from island to the mainland and took the bypass to get directly to Bluffton. He had a 3:30 PM appointment and he didn't want to be late.

As he parked, he double checked the sky and decided to leave the top down. He walked toward the touristy coffee shop - Perks of Bluffton, scanned around and spotted the familiar sky blue Buick Skylark and smiled. As he entered the shop, his eyesight quickly adjusting from the sunny day outside to the muted coffee shop atmosphere. He spotted the only thing not muted in the coffee shop and headed toward it.

"Well you're late as usual," said Ruby Mae shaking her head. "I was getting ready to leave." "It's barely 3:30 Ruby Mae, you know I work at the course until 3," he said with the amused sound of stepping into a familiar conversation. "As if you work," she said, shaking her head. "How many women did you take for a ride this time?" "Oh Ruby Mae, you know you are my one and only true love," he said with a laugh, but he looked at her directly as she gave a piece of her cake to Penny Max. And for a brief moment, he looked serious. Then as she looked back at him, he laughed again and continued the banter. "One day Ruby Mae, one day, you'll settle down with me." "Malarkey Lar-Lar," she said dismissing him with a wave of her hand like a queen.

Their conversation covered the ground of changes in different local business ownership, various minor health ailments and the coffee in the shop, with Ruby Mae generally getting in the final word on each topic. They also discussed stock options, a new golf course coming in and the baby turtle project. "I don't agree Lar-Lar. I think it's very important we keep our turtles safe. While you're busy flirting in widow world, there are more important things going on in the real world, and that includes saving the turtles," she said dismissively. He was enjoying himself immensely, even as she put him in his place over and over again.

Besides turtles, topics ranged from the recent storm and impact, the state of the local peach industry and the stories of long ago - memories they didn't share, but the aging they did. 

She looked at her pink Rolex (he always noticed that, despite various colorful mumus and sandals) and told him she'd have to get home to the 'gang.' He looked at his watch and noted it was 4:30 PM. He looked up from his watch and noticed her looking at it. Lar-Lar mentioned the weather and getting dinner around the corner and invited her to join him. As always, she said "Not this time Lar-Lar" and stood up to go. He shrugged his shoulders in resignation and stood up as well.

As they headed out the door together, the barista smiled as they departed. Their banter, which sometimes got heated, could always be heard behind the coffee counter and at first, he thought it was a lovers quarrel, but now he knew it was just their way. A couple visitors to the shop complained once about it, and the barista took their complaints with an apology and a gave them a coupon for a free cup of coffee. But he never approached the pair with the complaint. He enjoyed them too much.

As Lar-Lar walked Ruby Mae to her car, he tried, as always to open the door for her. "What are you doing Lar-Lar? Do you think I'm too old to do this for myself? Back off mister," she said as she opened her own door and set Penny Max inside and got inside. She started the engine and he carefully closed the door for her. "Drive carefully Ruby Mae. See you next week?" Lar-Lar said, with an almost question in his voice, waiting for the answer.

"Sure," she said, adding as she pulled out of the space, "Nice watch Lar-Lar." Her sarcasm was not lost on him. He looked down at his watch, shook his head, took off his seersucker sport jacket and put it in the back seat. Then he got in his convertible and headed to a low country eatery where the locals hung out, done for the day.

Want more? The golf course referenced was inspired by Robber's Row Course. https://hiltonheadgolf.net/clubs/port-royal/golf-courses/robber-s-row-course