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Dani nods. Her husbandwouldabsolutely love living here. She, on the other hand, would hate it. Everything about these meticulously maintained gated communities intimidates her. So far she’s been able to convince Nick that because the vast majority of these developments are adult-oriented, their boys would have no one to socialize with. But their sons are growing up fast, and Nick is growing bored of the cozy little cul-de-sac that has always made her feel safe. “Yes, he—”
“Ladies, a little quiet, please,” Nick calls from the tee box, lifting both arms into the air as if to silence the crowd, the way Dani has seen them do on TV. “The man is about to swing.”
“Your husband’s so funny,” Poppy says as Norman steps up to the ball, gives it a whack, and sends it flying down the center of the fairway. “Woo-hoo!” Poppy shrieks. “Great shot, babe.”
Norman acknowledges his wife’s enthusiasm with a wink, stepping aside as Nick puts his tee into the ground. Dani looks around, hoping she isn’t in his line of sight, as he carefully places the ball on the tee and starts his series of waggles and practice swings.
“The doc’s a very good-looking man,” Poppy says.
“Yes, he is.”
“How’d you ever land him?”
The question hits Dani like a fist to her solar plexus. Not that she hasn’t heard it before. She’s been hearing variations of it all her married life—Aren’t you the lucky girl! What’d you do to win that? Tell me your secret, girl. Still, it never fails to shock her. “Excuse me?”
Nick stops, his club dropping to his side. “Everything okay over there?”
“Yes, fine. Sorry.”
“Could you watch this for me?”
“I’m watchin’.”
“We’re allwatchin’,” Poppy repeats with a laugh as Nick restarts his routine from the beginning. “Watchin’andwaitin’,” she adds, pointedly.
Dani chuckles in spite of herself.
“Ladies,” Norman says. “A little decorum, please.”
“Ah, honey,” Poppy says. “Your decorum isn’t so little.”
Norman laughs. “Please excuse my wife,” he says, with obvious affection.
“No need,” Nick says, smiling. He cuts short his routine, then mishits the ball, sending it into the bushes to his left.
“Take a mulligan,” Norman offers. “You were distracted.”
Nick nods and tees up another ball, only to repeat the same swing to the same results. “That’s it for me,” he says with a shrug. “I’m out of this hole.”
“Nah,” Norman says. “Just drop the ball from where mine landed. We’ll call it a draw.”
“No way. You won fair and square. I owe you twenty bucks.”
—
“So…what would everybody like to drink?” Norman asks, as they enter the wood-paneled bar area of the private club after the completion of the round.
Dani sits down beside her husband at the low round table for four that overlooks the finishing hole of another of the club’s three courses. Nick has barely looked at her since they walked off the eighteenth green.
“Gin and tonic,” Poppy says.
“Sounds good,” Dani agrees.
“Count me in,” Nick says.
“Four gin and tonics,” Norman instructs the waiter, then checks his watch. “We’ll have to drink quickly. Our dinner reservations are in twenty minutes.”
“Sorry if I was a little slow,” Nick apologizes. “ ‘Slower than molasses,’ as Dani would say.” He reaches over to pat her hand. “My fault entirely. Don’t get to play nearly as much as I’d like these days.”
