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We waited for Jeremy to find his ball in the trees. “That’s your first mistake, Rob. You never give them space. Well maybe at first, but if you care about her, then you fight for her. Don’t let this slip away so easily,” Adam advised.
“But what am I supposed to do? She made her feelings about me pretty damn clear.” Despite my hesitance, Adam’s words were starting to light a fire inside me.
“You buy her flowers, you leave her mushy letters, you let her know you’re willing to do whatever it takes to win her back. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures, the little stuff matters just as much,” Jeremy chimed in, surprising me with his rationale.
“Wyatt’s right. And if your mood and general shittiness these past two weeks are anything to go by, you need to let Skylar know how you feel. She’ll fight you, probably pretty hard if I know Murphy, but I also know that under all that gruffness is a gooey heart. That dickwad Mac really messed with her trust, so she’s going to be jumpy about that,” Adam explained. “But if I know my friend, she’ll see reason. And she knows you’re not like Mac.”
“What if she rejects me again?” I had to ask, giving voice to my worst fear.
“Then she rejects you, but at least you will know that you tried your hardest,” Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t expect a friend of mine to give up like a little bitch though.” He whacked his ball and it landed closer to the green this time. “Can we stop talking about all this lovey-dovey shit and focus on the game? My buzz is wearing off too, tell me you brought the joint with you.”
I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him.
Adam and I shared a look and then we all continued our game.
**
I drove out to Skylar’s house, ready to put the plan “fight for the woman I love” into action. It helped that I was still a little buzzed from the afternoon of weed and golf.
I didn’t pay attention to the fact that her car wasn’t in the driveway when I arrived. I was too focused on what I was going to say, which went something like “please take me back. I’m a shell without you,” or some other kind of romantic nonsense that I felt, nonetheless.
I knocked on the door and waited.
I realized Edgar wasn’t barking.
I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the wavy glass around the door.
“Can I help you?”
I whipped around to see old Mr. Sheehan standing at the base of the porch stairs holding Edgar’s leash. Edgar’s tail was wagging like crazy, clearly happy to see me.
“I’m looking for Skylar,” I said, feeling like a creep looking through her window like that.
Mr. Sheehan frowned. “You’re that fella that used to come over all the time. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”
“Yeah, that’s me.” I looked behind me at the empty house. “You don’t have any idea when she’ll be back do you?”
Edgar was tugging on his leash, trying to get to me. “Seems our friend here is wanting to see you.” Mr. Sheehan unhooked the leash from Edgar’s collar and the dog came bounding over, hopping at my feet. I went down on my haunches and scratched him behind his ears in the way I knew he liked. I knew Mr. Sheehan was watching me closely.
“I’ve missed you too, boy,” I cooed softly to Edgar.
“I believe dogs are a good judge of character,” Mr. Sheehan said after a beat. “So, I don’t mind telling you that Skylar dropped Edgar down at my place a couple of hours ago. Asked me to look after him because she didn’t know how long she’d be. She’s over at her parents’ place. Seems they’re having another one of their ruckuses.”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you for letting me know. I think I’ll just hang out here until she gets back, so I can take Edgar off your hands if you’d like,” I offered, sitting down on the porch steps. Edgar flopped down beside me, resting his head on my knee.
Mr. Sheehan smiled a little. He had one of those weathered, cracked faces that looked as if it would shatter into pieces if he grinned. “He looks pretty comfortable there with you.” He scratched his arm seeming contemplative. “She’s a good girl, our Skylar.”
“She is,” I agreed, not knowing where this was going.
“I’ve known her since she was this big.” He held out his hand to knee height. “She was always a terror on the diamond. The best little slugger I had ever seen in all my years of coaching little league.” He stopped, seeming to think about his words before he said them. “She’s been dealt a tough hand with those parents of hers. Being the only kid too, she’s had to bear the brunt of their shit for years. That kind of upbringing makes you a bit hard on the outside if you know what I’m saying.”
