light with my window open to breathe in the scent everyone else said you couldn’t smell, but I swore I could: high tide. I reached into my briefcase for the list of Unknown Souls tour dates. They were playing in Savannah the next night. I’d known this for a week and had watched and waited—not for an excuse to go, but for an excuse not to go: an event, party, or appointment. But tomorrow loomed with empty spaces on my Palm Pilot, and Savannah was only an hour and a half away.
A honk pulled me from my reverie, and I turned left onto my street and then into my driveway, where Peyton’s Jaguar was parked. He was leaning against the hood talking on his cell phone. I jumped from the car and gave him a silent hug as he continued his conversation. He hugged me back and patted my bottom, held up his finger, and mouthed, “Hold on.”
“Yes, Mom. No problem. See you in a few.” He dropped the phone into his back pocket and hugged me again. “Hey, darling.”
“What are you doing here? I thought your tournament went until tomorrow. . . .”
“Yeah, it does if you qualified.”
“What happened?” The last time Peyton hadn’t qualified for the final round, I’d had to half carry him out of a bar in Boston back to his hotel room, then listen to him throw up for hours. The start of a beautiful relationship, indeed.
“I had a lousy day. Couldn’t find the damn green no matter what I did. It absolutely sucked. Chad scumbag Scarborough qualified. He’s never beat me, ever, in ten years.”
“I’m sorry.” I scrunched my face into a scowl. “Really I am. And I’m even sorrier I wasn’t there.”
He scooped me into his arms. “Me too. I probably would’ve done a lot better if you had been. But it was a smaller tournament.”
I nodded. “How did Caroline do?” I had sent her to help with this tournament, a chance for her to gain experience for the Palmetto Pointe Open.
“Kara, I have no idea. I don’t keep up with the event planners.”
I held up my hand. “Whoa, sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. Just in a foul mood. Everything seemed to be going smoothly . . . I’m sure she’s doing a great job. I was just a little focused on the course, not the parties.”
“Well, that would be a first.” I laughed.
“I just wanted to come give my beautiful fiancée a kiss . . . I promised Mom I’d go straight to her house.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Something about needing my help in the garage apartment.”
“Oh . . . okay. See you tonight?”
“Well, I promised Ray I’d meet him to discuss this investment idea he has. . . .”
“Tomorrow?” I pouted.
He wrinkled his nose. “Kara, I’m sorry. I’ve got to fly to Miami to check out this new golf course the tour wants to use. I’m on that committee.”
“I know, I know. . . .” I leaned against his chest. “When will I see you?”
“Saturday. Promise. You didn’t think you’d see me until then anyway. We’ll hide away all weekend. Deal?”
“Perfect. It’s been . . . weeks since we’ve been alone.” I kissed him, touched the side of his face. He reached up and took my hand.
“Where did you get that?” He touched the ring on my small finger.
“I found it in an old jewelry box. It’s a Claddagh ring.”
“I know what it is.” He tapped his finger on top of my engagement ring. “Can’t touch this, though, can it?”
“No, it can’t.” I kissed him. “An old friend gave it to me—God, all the way back in middle school,” I said.
“Wishing you were back in middle school?”
“No.” I lifted my hand to the sun. “Just found it and thought it was . . . nice.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be like the Irish wedding ring?”
“Yes, but it can be given friend to friend, sister to sister, mother to daughter. . . .” I lifted it up. “It means love, loyalty and friendship.”
“It’s dented.” He touched the side of the ring.
“I know. That’s where Deirdre slammed my finger in the car door.” I hadn’t even realized I remembered that.
“You know what? It is weird the things you remember.” He kissed me before he drove off.
“Yes,” I whispered to the empty driveway. “It is weird the things I remember.”
Peyton’s car turned the corner. I couldn’t say other women on the tour hadn’t warned me—it was terrible being married to or in love with these players who traveled all