Stacey lifted the picnic basket onto the bench between Birdy and herself. She set out a red plaid square and covered it with apple slices, two tarts, and juice boxes. The golf cart was parked a few feet away, and she waved another twosome through as they approached the tee-off box. "Go ahead, we're just taking a little break."
She inhaled deeply and looked around at the lush green of the golf course. "It is relaxing out here."
"You're not a very good golfer, Mom," Birdy observed, sticking the plastic straw in her juice box.
"Well, we're learning together, aren't we?"
Birdy grabbed an apple slice and chewed. Stacey could see that a question was forming in her young mind. "Didn't Daddy ever ask you to come play?"
"No. Sometimes even when one man and one woman are married to each other they need some time apart." Stacey reflected. "That's what golf does for your father. Well, and his car... and the office. I have my scrapping, and I love to cook."
She was surprised to hear how unconvincing the words sounded, even to her. It wasn't that she was proud of lying to her children, but she counted it as part of the multifaceted and ever-changing landscape of child rearing. It was simply a mandatory component of protecting them. At any rate Birdy was right—she wasn't a very good golfer, and she wasn't sure if it was more attributable to a lack of coordination or an unfocused mind. Her conversation with Chase this morning had instigated a flood of embarrassing recollections of unsavory comments she had made over the years about homosexuals. Not directly to them—well, at least she hoped not, but then again, she had put her foot squarely in her mouth at the barbecue with Chase and not even realized it. How many other times had she let her mouth run without considering the residual damage she might be leaving in her wake? She'd just done it again, she realized, by classifying marriage as between a man and a woman with her daughter. Evidently, she had some subconscious concerns to work out, and she decided to make a concerted effort to do so. Just then, she heard a commotion in the bushes behind them.
Stacey turned and saw two figures walking through the trees. As they came closer, she saw it was Nathan and Chase. Stacey set down her juice box and stood to call out to the men when she saw Nathan pin Chase against a tree and kiss him. Slowly she turned back to Birdy and then abruptly began to pack up the picnic basket.
"Mom! What are you doing?" Birdy complained, clearly convinced her mother was crazy.
Stacey picked up the picnic basket and covered Birdy's eyes with her other hand, leading her along to the golf cart. "It's a game. You're going to keep your eyes closed and I'll drive. When I stop, you can guess what hole we're on."
"But we're on seven. I want to play seven next!"
Stacey escorted Birdy into the passenger seat and quickly turned the keys in the ignition. "You've already called me a bad golfer today. I'm your mother. I won't also have you talking back."
Birdy craned her neck past her mother. "What were those men doing in the bushes?"
Stacey pressed the pedal to the floor and willed the golf cart to travel faster than its max speed of twenty kilometers per hour. "Probably looking for a lost ball."
YOU ARE READING
Mulligans
General FictionChase never had many friends, but at college, he meets and forms close ties with straight jock Tyler Davidson-a connection he fears he'll lose if he tells Tyler he's gay. Keeping his sexuality secret becomes harder for Chase as he joins Tyler and hi...