when they were younger. "No. You're going to Sir Putts-A-Lot with us and that's final."
"Mom!" Austin protested, just as Lissy wailed from down the hall, "Moommmmm! I can't find my golf shoes! The froggie ones!"
"You don't need special shoes to play mini golf, dumbass!" Austin yelled back. "That's bowling!"
"Mommmm!"
"Austin James DeWitt Raines, don't call your sister a dumbass."
"Or what?" Austin demanded. "Or you'll make me go mini golfing?"
"You're going to Sir Putts with your sister and me, and that's that."
Austin stomped off and slammed his bedroom door.
Paula wondered how much of a power struggle she was going to have getting him out of the house. She might have to leave him behind after all. Why didn't kids come with a convenient manual?
"I need my frog shoes!" Lissy wailed.
Paula went with the dangly earrings. This was the closest thing to a date she'd had since Lissy was born. Even if it didn't go anywhere, she might as well have some fun tonight.
Kids or no kids.
Even at 6 p.m. on a winter night, the parking lot of Sir Putts-A-Lot was half full. Through the early winter darkness, Paula scanned the lot for vehicles she recognized, which was at least half of them. There was Maybelle Hartz's little Toyota truck, and the Kozlowskis' minivan, and that brand new Range Rover that was apparently Doug Espinoza's idea of a midlife crisis machine.
It occurred to her that she had no idea what sort of vehicle Dan drove. She spotted the Ruger family Subaru hiding behind Ed Johnson's big white truck, and felt her heart clutch with a strange mix of relief and regret. He was here! And he'd brought the Rugers. That was good, right? Not a date. Definitely.
"Mom?" Lissy called from the door.
"Coming!" She gave up her car search and hurried to the door, waving to one of the Kozlowskis—she could never remember all their names.
Inside, the building's cavernous open space echoed with shrieking kids' voices. As always, in all weather, it somehow managed to be both stuffy and drafty at the same time. Plywood barricades painted to look like brick roughly cordoned off an area near the door for a front desk and some long laundromat-style racks for coats. Paula collected the kids' jackets and let them go on ahead while she hung them up.
"Paula?"
She wasn't prepared for the thrill that went through her at the sound of Dan's voice, but she certainly appreciated it. Turning, she saw him with Sandy. Both of them still had their coats on.
"You came," she said, beaming. "Do you want to ditch your coat? You'll probably get too hot once you start moving around."
"I wasn't sure if there was a coat check desk or something," Dan said.
"Oh, no, there's no desk or anything. Just hang it up on the rack. It's not like you won't recognize your own coat later."
Dan laughed a little. "This is a small town," he said, mostly to himself. He shrugged out of his coat; underneath, he had on a plaid shirt that hugged his muscular chest. Lucky shirt. "Yeah, sure, why not. Can I take yours, kid?"
Sandy stripped off his parka and Dan draped it over his arm—the artificial one. Paula was definitely not staring, but she was curious. She hadn't gotten a very good look at his arm earlier. He moved so naturally that she never would have noticed it if not for the visible metal of the clamp end.
"Where's the rack?" Dan asked.
"Oh. Right. Over here."
"Mooooom!" Lissy yelled from the front desk, her voice cutting through the echoing hockey-arena cacophony of voices and clattering golf balls.
"Coming!" Paula yelled back. "My public awaits," she said to Dan. "Who else is here?"
"I don't know anyone but you," Dan said.
"No, I meant—didn't you come with the Rugers?"
"Just Sandy," Dan said.
"I saw their car outside—"
"Oh, yeah. I borrowed it for the evening. Gaby and Derek are staying in with the girls."
"Mom!!"
"Hold your horses!" Paula called back. Lissy, she saw, had located two of the other little girls from her fourth-grade class, both of them clutching bright-colored golf clubs. Lissy was showing off her light-up frog shoes, a Christmas present this past December and currently her pride and joy. "Well, in that case, do you two want to play against us?"
"Sure," Dan said, with an easy grin that curled her toes.
Paula paid at the desk, passing their ball and putter to a deeply unimpressed-looking Austin to hold, and bought some concession tickets to get hot dogs and Cokes for the kids.
"Hey, I'll get yours too,"