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Coming From Behind Ch. 03-04

By: coaster2



Chapter 3 Horse-Bleep Luck

I rolled into Reno late that afternoon and began looking for the visitors' center. It wasn't hard to find and I told them I was looking for a nice hotel on a golf course. Apparently there were only about twenty of them. Maybe I'm exaggerating. I picked one with a familiar name and called to see if they had a room. Yes indeed they did and some coupons for the casino as well as the golf course. I booked four nights on a whim. What the hell, I could find something to do.

I didn't stay up late that first night. The long drive in from Salt Lake City had gassed me and I was barely able to finish my dinner before I headed to my suite and crashed. A dreamless ten hours later I awoke to find it was not quite seven in the morning. No problem. These places operated twenty-four/seven. I showered, shaved, dressed and headed for one of the restaurants for breakfast. I resisted the temptation to have the whole meal deal and settled for juice, fruit, toast, and coffee ... all complimentary to guests I learned. 

I checked with the concierge to find out the situation at the golf course. Since I was a single, he recommended I drop over and pick up a threesome. I wouldn't have to wait long he assured me. That was good enough for me. There was a shuttle to the course so I grabbed my clubs and shoes from the Audi and walked to the pick-up location. I didn't have to wait five minutes before the little bus arrived and whisked me off to the clubhouse. As we passed some of the holes I could see I was going to be playing a much better and probably more difficult course than Cheyenne. This would be a test for sure.

I passed the complimentary coupon to the attendant at the pro shop and he recorded my name. I was fairly early for most people and he thought I wouldn't have to wait more than a few minutes. In the meantime, if I'd like to use the putting green he would page me when he had a slot. True to his word, I'd barely had enough time for a dozen medium length putts when he called my name.

I walked to the shop and he pointed toward the first tee. 

"You'll be joining the Feiler threesome, Mr. Monahan," he said. 

I followed his finger and saw three women standing on the first tee, looking back at the pro shop. Oh shit! I guess I'm going to have to behave myself.

"Good morning, ladies," I said with a smile and my most polite voice. "My name is Terry Monahan and I've been added to your group." 

My presence didn't seem to cause any consternation on their part.

"Hi, Terry. I'm Carla, and this is Ramona and Crystal," she said, pointing at the other two women. I was being paired with three forty-something women, all fairly attractive and well dressed. Quickly checking out their clubs, they were also well equipped.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "Which tees will you be playing from?"

"The reds, as usual. Some of us don't hit very far I'm afraid, so we need all the help we can get," Carla chuckled. She appeared to be the spokesperson for the group. 

"Okay. I'll play from the whites. I'm just getting back into the game so I don't need to challenge myself too greatly yet."

I was first to tee off, delighted that I hit a decent drive down the right side of the fairway. The ladies advanced to the red tees and began to tee off. Carla was first and smacked a solid drive that landed within feet of my drive. I gave her a quizzical look and she just shrugged. 

Crystal was next and she hit a nice clean drive right down the middle. From the swing I guessed she'd spent more than a few hours with the club pro somewhere. Finally, Ramona stood on the tee and proceeded to hammer out a prodigious drive down the left side but showing a pro fade that brought it back to the middle. When it finally came to rest is was easily forty yards past my ball. 

"All right you three," I chuckled. "What's the deal?"

I got the fake innocent look from them before they burst out laughing. 

"Sorry, Terry," Carla laughed. "We couldn't help ourselves. All three of us play competitive golf in club tournaments. Ramona is our club ladies champion and has won a bunch of trophies."

"Now that is not a surprise when I saw that drive," I said. "I'm in for a challenge I hadn't counted on, I think."

"What's your handicap, Terry?" Crystal asked.

"It used to be a nine, but I haven't played in over two years and not much before that. I'm just getting back to it now."

"Don't worry. It'll come back to you," Carla assured me.

"I hope you're right. I've really been looking forward to getting back to playing regularly.

We had been walking down the first fairway toward Carla's ball. It was a par four, three-seventy from the reds, four hundred and ten from the whites, with traps left and right in front of the green. The fairways were lush and the rough was not too thick. 

Carla pulled out a three wood, took a practice swing, then hit a perfect shot right down the middle just in front of the green and avoiding the traps.

"Well done," I said. "You have a great swing. All three of you do."

"We were all taught by the same pro," Ramona said. "We've been playing together for years."

Crystal stepped up and once again hit another dead straight three wood that rolled up on the green, thirty feet from the pin. This was going to be quite an education for me I thought. These ladies could play.

I was next, and chose a five iron, assuming I would hit the ball about the way I did in Cheyenne. I was wrong. I hit the shot solidly but it flew the pin and bounced off the back of the green. Shit! I'd have to adjust if I was going to hit flyers like that.

"Use one club less, Terry," Carla said. "Dry air and altitude."

I nodded. I thought I had compensated for that but obviously not enough. We walked up to Ramona's ball and I watched her take an eight iron out of her bag. Jesus Christ ... a fucking eight iron for a woman on a four hundred yard hole. Is she kidding?

Nope. I knew as soon as I heard the hit that it was plenty of club. It landed twenty feet short and rolled another ten feet, just right of the target. All I could do was shake my head.

"Tell you what," Ramona said with a laugh. "How about you and I tee off from the whites and let the other girls play the reds. That might make it more interesting."

"I'll go for that. At least I won't feel like a pussy," I said, immediately regretting the vulgarism.

It brought a laugh from all three women, so I guess I wasn't in trouble.  

I chipped up to within eight feet of the pin, noting some of the feel had come to me late in the Cheyenne game was still with me. Praise be! I sank the putt for a par. A hell of a good start. 

Carla chipped short and missed her putt for a par and settled for a bogey five. Both Crystal and Ramona made their pars. It was off to the second hole.

With both Ramona and me now on the whites I think my dick started doing the thinking for me. It wasn't like these were super hot babes but I wasn't going to let some woman out-drive me if I could help it. It was another par four with a nice wide fairway. Why not let out a little extra shaft and pound the shit out of it, my dick thought.

I watched as my drive sliced right over the trees and onto the adjoining fairway. Not what I was intending to say the least. Ramona then finished my humiliation by hitting another perfect slider down the left side and back into the center about two hundred and fifty yards away. Once upon a time that was my Sunday best. I needed to get my shit together or I was going to be embarrassed.

Neither of us said anything as we walked to the red tees and watched the other two ladies hit their shots, both on the fairway. I took off toward my ball wondering if I had any shot at all at the green. When I got there I had to wait a couple of minutes as another foursome was playing through. I finally got out to survey my prospects and didn't like what I saw.

Several trees were in front of the green on my line. They were tall, so I'd have to hit a very high shot hoping it would clear the trees and land somewhere near the green. I remembered Carla's comment about one less club and chose a seven iron. This was one of my favorite clubs but I was asking a lot of it. Well what the hell, give it a shot.

I nailed it. I mean I flat fucking nailed it. In the words of Dan Jenkins ... dead solid perfect. I couldn't see where it landed but I was certain it had cleared the trees. I heard a shout from the girls but there was a jet flying overhead and I couldn't hear what it was about. I picked up my bag and headed for the green on the edge of the other fairway.

I saw three balls on the green but I still didn't know what had happened to mine. Was it one of the three? Not likely. 

"Where'd I go," I hollered as I approached the girls.

"What'd you mean ... where did it go. Didn't you see it? I went right in the god damned hole ... on the fly!" Ramona said, shaking her head in amazement.

"You're kidding. I holed it?"

"Absolutely, not even a lucky bounce. Just right down into the hole. I've never seen that before."

"Shit ... and I didn't even get to see it. The shot of a lifetime and I didn't get to see it."

"It was a hell of a shot, Terry," Carla said. "I didn't think you had a prayer of getting it on the green and you holed the sucker out. Amazing!"

I put my bag down and walked up to the pin and looked down. There it was, my ball, wedged between the pin and the side of the cup. A pure fluke eagle. I couldn't pull that shot off again if I tried for a hundred years. I could feel the adrenalin pumping through my veins as I pulled the pin and retrieved the ball. It was badly scarred from its crash landing but I'd keep it as a souvenir.

"How about that, an eagle two," I said to Ramona. "Not my first but without doubt my most unlikely."

"That's how it goes in this game, Terry," she laughed. One moment you're a joke, then the next you're a superstar."

"It is that kind of game isn't it." I was almost embarrassed with my luck.

The rest of the game was far less dramatic. I quit trying to out-play Ramona and tried to get back to what I remembered of my game. As the day wore on, I seemed to get a bit better with my distance control. I missed a few fairways with the driver but luckily the rough was pretty light and I was able to recover fairly easily. Better yet, my short game started to come around.

I shot a thirty-nine on the front, a par thirty-five. That eagle on the second made me look good. The back nine was a more honest thirty nine, an eight over par round on a fairly easy golf course. I missed most of the traps and didn't have to hit any more miracle shots. 

Ramona beat all of us as expected. She was four over par for the round and missed a couple of makeable putts that would have really given her a great round. Crystal shot eighty and Carla an eighty-one. Both of them had putting troubles.

"Ladies, allow me to buy you and drink to thank you for a delightful round."

"I think we can be persuaded," Carla smiled.

The waitress arrived and took our drink orders, leaving menus behind.

"We'll buy the lunch, Terry," Ramona volunteered. "We always split it between us anyway." 

"That's very kind. Thank you," I smiled.

I ordered a New York style corned beef sandwich and a beer. It came with a small side salad and a few potato chips. The steamed corned beef, hot mustard and fresh rye bread were perfect. The ladies each chose a wine cooler and a sandwich. The food was excellent and very reasonably priced. Mind you, I was used to Chicago prices so maybe that colored my thinking.

All three of the women were from the Cincinnati area. Carla and Ramona had known each other for some years having belonged to the same golf club. Both Carla and Ramona were widows while Crystal was a divorcee. They were on a two week trip, the first week here in Reno and the second in Las Vegas. They had two ambitions that they admitted to. The first was to play golf and the second to gamble. They looked like they were not short of cash for their playtime when they talked about gambling.

"Terry, you should go right to the roulette table tonight and put a hundred on two, a hundred on twenty-two, and another hundred on even. I have a hunch it will be a winner," Ramona said confidently.

"How did you come up with that?" I asked. I was not a gambler so I wasn't thinking in that direction.

"Easy. You shot a two on the second hole. That's two twos. Two twos are twenty-two. All numbers are even. It's a dead cinch," she said confidently.

"Oh ... I hadn't thought of that. So it's a guaranteed winner, huh?" I smiled.

"Guaranteed! Trust me, I know these things," she said with a self-satisfied look.

"Okay ... it's not a big risk so I'll go along with it. Are you going to bet with me?"

"Damn right. I'm not missing out on a sure thing."

"Me too," Crystal chimed in, while Carla was nodding her agreement. 

That was a sure sign of commitment if they were going to put their own money up. I couldn't back out now.

"What's your plan this afternoon, girls?" I asked.

"I'm going to hook up with my new boyfriend," Crystal said. He doesn't golf but he enjoys other kinds of sports. I'll probably find him in the sports-bet room by now."

"I'm going to take a power nap," Carla admitted. "I've got to get my strength up for tonight. I plan to make a killing," she laughed.

"I'm going to kick back and relax," Ramona said. "I might go for a swim later."

"Why don't we get together for dinner tonight?" I suggested. "My treat. I'll spend a bit of my future winnings."

"As long as you let us pay our share, Terry, that sounds like a great idea. The French restaurant okay with everyone?"

We got unanimous agreement and then headed for the shuttle to the hotel, leaving our clubs at the pro shop knowing we'd be back tomorrow for another round.

I took a shower and changed into shorts and a t-shirt, flicked on the TV and slouched on the sofa with a beer. It felt good to just kick back and do nothing. The golf was fun and the ladies were delightful even if they were a tad older than I'd normally be drawn to. Just the same they were fine looking women and kept themselves in good shape. I didn't see any major signs of wear and tear on any of them.

I must have nodded off because I was startled when I realized someone was knocking at my door. A quick look through the peep hole told me it was Ramona holding a tray of something. I opened the door.

"Hi, Terry. May I come in? I figured you would be on your own this afternoon so I ordered up a pitcher of margaritas and some taco and salsa in case we got hungry again."

She'd already walked into the room, so the question was moot. She put the tray on the coffee table and turned back to me with a questioning look. She was dressed very casually in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, showing off her tanned legs and arms. She was no stranger to the sun.

"Did I wake you? You look a little groggy?"

"No problem. I think I dozed off from boredom. I'm sure you can help me cure that," I said with a smile.

"Shall I pour?" she asked, once again going ahead and doing it anyway.

"Sure." She had me at a disadvantage. I wasn't sure what her visit was all about.

"We didn't get to talk much on the course today. I thought I'd spend some time and find out all about the handsome young man who seems to be on his own and without any particular plan for himself."

"Well, you got that part right," I smiled as I raised my glass to hers and touched before taking a sip. "I'm on my own and I'm headed west but I'm not sure where to. This is the first place that I've decided to spend a few days. I can play golf, exercise, swim, gamble, do all kinds of things without too much planning at all. That suits me just fine."

"You're single ... divorced I think you told me."

"That's right. I've been on my own for about five years. I let my job kill my marriage. Nobody's fault but my own. I quit my job a few weeks ago, sold my apartment in Chicago, got in my car and drove."

"You just up and quit?" she asked, surprised.

"Yep. I'd just completed the biggest merger in the company's history and I was exhausted and, to some extent, fed up with my work. I asked for a leave of absence, pretty sure that it wouldn't be granted. I had a letter of resignation all typed up so I handed it to the big boss. He wasn't pleased but he accepted it after trying to talk me out of it. At least he didn't make me any promises he couldn't keep."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Like a ten ton weight has been lifted off my back. I wasn't enjoying the job even before my last project so it wasn't as hard to quit as I might have expected. So, here I am, on my way to who knows where and in no rush to get there."

"That sounds pretty sensible to me ... as long as you can afford it," Ramona said quietly.

"I can afford it. They paid me very well and the bonus for completing the merger was very handsome. Top it off with selling my apartment and pocketing nearly three quarters of a million, I'll survive."

"Yes ... I guess you will. But what about tomorrow? You're so young. You've got so much of your life ahead of you. What do you want to do with it?"

"I think I'd like to buy my own business and run it the way I think it should be run. Who knows, that may be a recipe for disaster, but I won't know until I try. Anyway that's my thinking," I finished, taking another sip of my drink.

She was nodding either in agreement or understanding. She was a good listener and it was nice to have someone to talk to where I didn't have to guard my words.

"Do you think you'll marry again?" she asked carefully.

"Probably. I won't make the same mistake twice. I was at fault the first time. I know better now."

"Good for you, Terry. You seem like a very level-headed kind of guy. I'm sure some young woman is going to catch up to you as soon as you land in one place," she said, again with that engaging smile.

I shrugged. She was probably right, but I would be extra careful this time. Even though the failure of my first marriage was my fault, it didn't mean I would just jump at the first opportunity.

"What about you, Ramona. You're still relatively young. You must be thinking about companionship at least."

"I'm forty-six, if that's what you're wondering," she said with a grin. "I've got my eye on a fellow back in Cincinnati that might be good husband material. In the meantime we three girls have pledged ourselves to a good time. No feeling sorry for ourselves. This two week jaunt is about playing golf, eating well, doing a bit of gambling, and if we're lucky, finding a guy to spend some time with."

"Well, that's a reasonable objective," I smiled. "Mind if I apply for escort duty, Ramona?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes ... absolutely. You're a very attractive woman. We get along well, we're both single, enjoy golf ... that's not a bad start for a few days of companionship."

"What kind of companionship?" she asked warily.

"What kind would you like? Friends, acquaintances, or ... more?" I wondered how she would respond to what I thought was a pretty obvious come-on.

She looked at me carefully for a few moments, saying nothing until, "What about friends with benefits?"

That surprised me. Despite my innuendo I didn't think she would be quite that blunt. I was wrong.

"That sounds very intriguing. You're a very attractive woman and I prefer someone with a mature attitude. How would you feel about that kind of friendship?"

"Like I'd died and gone to heaven," she grinned. "You are serious I hope."

"Yes, ma'am. I never kid about personal relationships."

"I think I'm going to really enjoy the next few days. When did you plan to leave?"

"I'm booked for four nights, but I'm sure I can extend it if need be."

"Would you be interested in coming to Las Vegas as well?"


Coming From Behind Ch. 03-04



"Why don't we see how this works out first before we look too far ahead?"

She nodded as she smiled. 

We were just starting on our third Margarita when all pretenses were dropped. Ramona slipped over to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, giving a very warm and sensuous kiss. A little tongue dancing followed and I let my hands begin to roam her body. She had a robust figure and plenty of curves to make it attractive. Large breasts and a full backside. Her waist wasn't slim but it suited her build. 

A few minutes later we had shed our t-shirts and I had unhooked her bra. As I expected she was full-breasted with some sag but not pronounced. Her skin tone was not just evenly tanned but taut and smooth. She must have been exercising regularly. It wasn't long before we were both naked and I was leading her to my bed. 

"Just a word, Ramona ... it's been quite a while since I've been with a woman so I may be a bit quick to start with. Please be patient with me."

"It's no different for me, Terry. I haven't been without sex but it has been infrequent and lately not very satisfying. I'm hoping you and I can fix that."

"I'll do my best, I promise."

I spent some time on foreplay, especially oral. Ramona responded well and let me know she approved. She had a carefully trimmed pubic thatch of dark hair, her natural color. When the time came to join she welcomed me and I slipped into her with ease. For whatever reason I wasn't feeling the urgency that sometimes overcame me if I was having sex for the first time in a long while. I hadn't been without sex since my divorce but the episodes were few and far between and, like Ramona, they weren't always rewarding.

Almost from the beginning I think we both knew that we were good together. Not just physically but emotionally and intellectually. This wasn't the beginning of a love affair. It was two adults having a personal relationship with no strings attached. It was friends with benefits in its purest form. The alcohol had merely paved the way for a pleasant afternoon's intimate entertainment.

I lasted longer than I expected and Ramona was very complimentary and happy how well we fit together. We rested and chatted about our lives ... past and present. When the time was right she used her oral skills to bring me back to life, then mounted me and rode like a bucking bronco. I used my hands to contain her wildly bouncing breasts as she energetically searched for another orgasm.

When she found it we both knew we were done for the afternoon. Just as well, since we had a dinner with the other ladies and some gambling after that. We lay side by side completely happy and satisfied with our unplanned tryst. We both drifted off, holding hands as we lay beside each other, still naked. 

Ramona awoke first, teasing me with kisses to wake me. 

"Ohhh ... that feels good," I groaned. "What time is it?"

"It's almost six. We need a shower and I have to get to my room to get dressed."

"Why don't you bring some things down here and stay the night?" I suggested, stroking her bare breasts.

"I might just do that. I think you and I make a very good couple in bed, Terry. You were the perfect gentleman and gave me a very good experience. I might want something a little more ... robust ... later on," she snickered.

"Ah hah! A little rough and tumble, eh? Well two can play that game."

"I'm going to hold you to that. Somehow I don't think you'll disappoint me."

She was out the door and back just after six-thirty. She had a nice long black skirt with a very sexy satin cream blouse displaying a goodly amount of cleavage. With her high heels she was only a couple inches shorter than my five-eleven.

"Very nice," I said in genuine admiration. "Simple but elegant and very sexy. I'm going to have a lot of jealous guys watching us tonight."

"Thank you, Terry," she said genuinely. "I was hoping you would approve."

"There was never a doubt," I assured her. 

We left the room just before seven. I was wearing a black blazer, gray slacks and a simple silver-blue button-down shirt open at the neck. Ramona remarked that we made a very dashing couple and I was inclined to agree with her. I felt good about having her on my arm. Our age difference was far from my thoughts.

We arrived at the maitre d's desk promptly at seven and Ramona asked for the Feiler table. We weren't the first to arrive when I saw Crystal sitting with an older gentleman. Carla had yet to arrive.

"Hi Crystal," Ramona said cheerily. "Please introduce me to your guest."

"This is Cal Hickson. Cal, this is Ramona Feiler and Terry ... oh ... I don't know his last name. Sorry," she blushed.

"It's Monahan. Nice to see you again, Crystal, and nice to meet you Mr. Hickson."

"It's Cal, if y'all don't mind me calling you Terry." He had a booming voice with a southwest accent.

"Not at all, Cal."

I held a chair for Ramona and seated myself beside her. She was next to Cal and I would be sitting next to Carla when she arrived. There would be one open chair left at the table and I assumed that was in case Carla showed up with a "date" as well.

We spent a few minutes getting to know each other. Cal was in the "awl bidness," something to do with mud for well sites. I didn't pretend to understand it. Luckily, Cal didn't dwell on it and was happy to talk about the good weather, his luck at gambling and his home in Wichita Falls. He might have had a homespun accent but he was sharp and obviously a good bidnessman, not to mention a pleasant dinner companion.

Carla finally showed up almost twenty minutes late. She didn't look the least bit flustered and sauntered in without a care in the world. That kind of act never sat well with me but I bit my tongue and said nothing. She sat beside me and ordered a drink from our ever-present waiter as she perused the menu. 

"So, what did you do this afternoon, Terry," she asked as her drink arrived.

"Oh ... uhhm ... Ramona and I hung out for a while. Just talking and having a drink. Nothing much," I said, hoping it sounded as casual as I was trying to portray. I wasn't about to tell her I was fucking her friend in my room while she was doing whatever she was doing.   

"And you?" I asked.

"Oh, I went hunting but didn't find anything I liked."

"You mean shopping?"

"No silly, men," she said completely unabashed.

"Too bad," I said offhandedly, wondering how we could close down this conversation before it got started. I might have known it was a futile effort.

"You haven't had much luck lately, Carla," Crystal said. "Maybe you need to change your perfume. What do you think, Terry?"

Oh shit. How did I get involved in this?

"Uhhm ... well ... I'm not much of a judge of perfumes ... but it smells fine to me."

"Well that's not much of an endorsement," Carla said. "It should at least make you horny."

I nearly spewed my drink across the table and Cal let out a guffaw that must have been heard on the tenth floor. 

"Gotcha!" Carla laughed. "Relax, Terry. We're just having some fun. Don't be a stick-in-the-mud. We're here to have fun and you said you were too. I'll bet you had fun this afternoon," she said, nudging me with her elbow.

Oh Christ. Who told her or was she just guessing.

"A genamin nevah tells," Cal said out of nowhere. It was the last thing I expected to hear from him. I gave him a look which I hope conveyed my thanks. I think he got it.

I felt Ramona wrap her arm around my arm signaling me to relax. I took her lead and decided there really was no harm done. We weren't fooling anyone at this table so why bother. Besides, Carla was right. We were here to have fun and I intended to do so.

The meal was excellent and we treated ourselves to three desserts to be shared around the table. When the waiter arrived with what I expected was the bill it became immediately apparent that Cal had already looked after it. How and when I didn't know but it prevented any arguments about who was going to pay. I nodded my thanks, hoping I could find a way to say a tangible thank you later on.

"You must join us at the roulette table, Cal," Ramona said. "We have a sure winner in Terry and we should all take advantage of it."

"What makes y'all so sure he's a winner?" Cal asked, clearly not convinced.

Ramona went on to explain the golf shot and the rationale for the bet. Cal was nodding his head and thinking that made perfect sense. Well, maybe to him and the girls, but I was yet to be persuaded. We rose from the table and the five of us walked through the casino toward the roulette area. It wasn't very crowded yet so we had no trouble fitting everyone around the table we had chosen. 

I purchased a thousand dollars worth of chips and waited to see what the others would do. I was shocked when Ramona bought five thousand worth, with Carla, Cal, and Crystal the same. I felt like a cheapskate but didn't react at that point. I could always buy more afterward.

I made the suggested bet: a hundred on two, another hundred on twenty-two, and a hundred on even. I watched as each of the others followed my bet with five hundred on each of the three bets. Were they fucking crazy? Were they that sure of Ramona's prediction? In a moment of recklessness I quickly matched their bets, not wanting to look like a penny-ante gambler even if that's really what I was.

You've probably seen the scene a hundred times. Tuxedoed gentlemen and their elegantly dressed women standing around the roulette table while the croupier says, "Faites vos jeux." Place your bets. I looked around the table and there wasn't a tuxedo to be seen and the ladies were dressed far more casually as well. No matter, the croupier made his call in English and I watched, fascinated as the wheel spun and the ball was launched in the opposite direction.

It seemed to take forever for the wheel to slow enough to allow the ball to overcome centrifugal force and begin to drop down the side of the wall. I watched as the pea-sized object began to bounce along the top of the shallow pockets before finally landing in one and remaining there.

"Number twenty-two, black, even," the croupier said calmly as if announcing the next bus stop.

"Yahoooo!" Cal let go with a vengeance. 

Crystal was dancing around in celebration and Carla was grinning from ear to ear.

"How much did we win?" I asked Ramona, who had remained remarkably calm through the whole thing."

"You just put eighteen thousand dollars in your pocket, Terry," she smiled with a "told you so" look.

"Are you kidding me? I guess I should have bet more. What do we do now?" I asked her.

"If we're smart we walk away. I only had one hunch and we played it. That should take care of your vacation for some time to come don't you think?"

"I'll say. I've got to pay more attention to your premonitions, girl. That was not just uncanny but downright scary. How did you do that?"

She shrugged and smiled as she began to pick up her chips from the pile in front of us. They were all one thousand dollar chips. I counted out my eighteen and pocketed them, noticing that everyone had passed a one hundred dollar chip to the croupier. I copied them and began to leave the table.

"Where would you like to go next?" Ramona asked.

I thought for a moment. "I think I'd like to try my hand at poker. Maybe some of my old luck will hang with me."

"You've played poker before?" she asked, looking surprised.

"It was almost a way of life at college. Not much money involved, of course, but I got pretty good at it after a while. I won more than I lost and since I've got this nice little grubstake I can give it a try without too much risk."

"Let's go," Ramona chirped. "You coming with us, Cal? We're headed for the poker tables."

"Dang tootin', gal. That's my game and I has me some spendin' money now," he said enthusiastically.

The other two decided they would be spectators while Ramona surprised me and confirmed she'd play. Apparently she had some past experience as well but didn't elaborate.

When I next looked up at the clock it was nearing one in the morning. I looked at Ramona sitting across the table from me and gave her a nod with a look at my watch. She smiled, getting the message right away.

"That's it for me, folks," she said, gathering up her chips. She'd made a small profit from what I could see while I had added another two thousand plus to my winnings and indicated I was retiring as well. We had been fortunate to be at a table with largely inexperienced players and I could have had a field day if I'd wanted to make a bunch of money. Somehow, after the roulette win, that didn't seem important. Both of us tipped the dealer and headed toward the elevators. 

Cal and Crystal stuck around. Carla had long since left, hunting as Ramona called it. Each of the three had their own rooms so there would be no embarrassing problems to resolve. Ramona and I had already made our arrangements. She would be staying in my room tonight and possibly longer. Time would tell.

"Good thing we have a later tee-off time tomorrow morning," she grinned. "I expect you to hold up your end of our agreement. I noticed you didn't drink very much tonight."

"Nope. I remembered your specific request and if I was going to play poker with a bunch of strangers I didn't need anything to dull the senses."

"Good for you, my man. How much did you win by the way? I took away about four hundred I think." 

"I didn't count but I figure close to twenty-two hundred."

"You were hot. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you."

"Not right away. I didn't know who we were up against. After a few hands I figured them out. I could have taken them for a bundle but I didn't want to piss anybody off."

"Good thinking. They'd probably welcome you back thinking they could get their money back," she chuckled.

"You played well but very cautiously. I saw you dump a couple of hands that looked like winners. Did you?"

"Yup. None of them thought I was a factor so ... like I said, if we show up tomorrow night and any of them are still around ... I'm sure you can figure it out."

"You're not what you seem to be," I observed with a wrinkled brow as we entered the elevator.

"What do you think I am?" she grinned, grabbing me for a deep kiss.

When I caught my breath, I answered. 

"I thought you were a lovely, middle-aged widow with enough money to enjoy yourself. Now I'm beginning to wonder. First you beat the ass off me at golf playing from the same tees. Then you give me that tip on the roulette wheel. Finally, you set up that poker table for a possible killing on another night. That's not what I expected."

"I can see why you did so well in your job, Terry. You're sharp. You don't miss much. Stick with me ... at least for a few days. We can have some fun together," she grinned.

I nodded. "Yeah ... I think you're right. But I think I'd better pay attention too."

We entered my room and as the door closed Ramona was already unbuttoning her blouse and rubbing her ass against my crotch. She was ready to rumble and, to tell the truth, so was I. I wasn't exactly sure who this woman really was but it certainly wasn't doing me any harm finding out.

"Don't bother with foreplay, Terry. I've been hot for you since we left the roulette table. I want you hard and I want you fast."

"Then get on your hands and knees, woman. I'll give you hard and fast," I bragged.

She moved like a cat ... a big cat ... as she literally jumped on the bed, waving her ass at me as she assumed the position. She wasn't kidding. She was very ready for me and I used both hands to grab her hips and pull her back to me as I impaled her on my cock. She gave a groan of satisfaction as I began to work in and out of her, picking up speed and forcefulness as I went along. It wasn't long before the only sounds were the grunts of our exertions and the slap of my pelvis against her butt. 

"Yeeesssss," she hissed at one point. I was getting good, positive feedback from her as she pushed back into me in rhythm with my strokes. Her head was shaking back and forth now and then and when I could catch a glimpse of her face, her eyes were closed. She was in her own world right now and I was working hard to keep her there for as long as I could. 

As with all good things though, they come to an end.

"I'm getting close, Ramona. Not much longer now."

"Hang on as long as you can, baby. I can't get enough of you," 

I did the best I could but without a lot of warning I knew it was coming to an end.

"This is it, girl. The big finale," I said breathlessly as I began to shoot into her.

A few seconds later found us collapsed on the bed.

"Oh, God! That was incredible, Terry," she said as she began to regain her senses.

"Glad I made if for you. You were really into it, weren't you?"

"You know it. I haven't been fucked like that in who knows how long. Are you sure you can't stick around for a few years," she gasped.

"I don't know if I'd survive that long," I chuckled as I lay beside her.

"Yeah, but what a trip it would be while we lasted."

Chapter 4 Destination Unknown

I added one more night to my stay in Reno to coincide when the three ladies were off to Las Vegas. I didn't think twice about it since we were having such a great time. We played golf every day ... all except Cal. He was happy to sit around the casino, looking for a card game while the girls and I played another round. Ramona continued to be my nemesis on the golf course. She was good and she was crafty. Of the four games we played, I only beat her once and tied once. As usual, it was my short game that was my downfall. But ... I was getting better.

I asked Cal why he came to Reno when Las Vegas was a lot closer to Wichita Falls.

"Too many card sharks and slick boys in Vegas, son. They make their livin' skinnin' good ole boys like me. I don't play to make a livin' ... I play for fun. Winnin' is just a way of keepin' score. When the girls leave here on Friday I'll still be here," he smiled.

I'd got to liking Cal. He was straight as an arrow and sneaky smart in a country boy sort of way. I imagined he did very well in the awl bidness.  

"Crystal says you ain't going to Vegas neither," he said, looking at me questioningly.

"Nope. This has been a great week and I've had fun but it's time to move on."

"Where you headed, son?"

"Don't know exactly. San Francisco next ... but from there, I don't know yet."

He nodded as if he understood. Maybe he did.

"What about after you're done here, Cal?"

"Back to the Falls, I reckon. Back to work. It don't look after itself so I s'pose I'll spend some time there 'till I get the itch agin."

"I thought you might be taking Crystal with you."

"I would if I could ... that's a dead sure certainty. She's pretty independent you know. But ... she's got my card. If she changes her mind ... we'll ... she'll know how to find me." 

"Good luck. She'd be a good partner for sure," I suggested.

He nodded agreement but said nothing more. I got the feeling that he was pretty disappointed that Crystal wasn't going to be with him. 

Ramona was a simpler matter. She did want me to follow her to Las Vegas but understood when I told her no. This week had been amazingly good for me but it was time to move along. I gave her my cell number and my e-mail address and she gave me her personal card. I promised we'd stay in touch and I had every intention of doing so.

We'd been having sex almost every afternoon and night. She checked out of her room the second day and moved in with me. She was easy to be with and it seemed very comfortable having her around. Again, I almost never thought about the age difference and I don't think she did either. We were good for each other and that was enough. We laughed a lot, won a lot of money playing cards, needled each other on the golf course and ate some wonderful meals in some great restaurants without a single worry about calorie counting. 




Coming From Behind Ch. 03-04



We parted great friends and I was sorry to see the three of them board the bus to the airport. They had a noon flight to Vegas on Southwest and were looking forward to the bright lights and entertainment. Cal was with me when they left and he had a bit of a hang-dog look when Crystal waved goodbye. I think he was hoping their time together might have produced something more. Maybe it would.

He and I had a light lunch together and shook hands as I got ready to leave. I got my luggage from the concierge and stuffed it into the Audi, destination Sacramento. It was only a couple of hours away and I didn't have much ambition that afternoon, so I decided to take it easy. San Francisco could wait another day.

I'd been blessed with good weather for almost the entire trip. My car hadn't moved the entire time I was in Reno. It sat in the underground garage while we used the various shuttles, cabs and our feet to get from one place to another. I could feel some of my fitness coming back. Walking the course was easier and I was less tired at the end of a round. Luckily it wasn't hot in early May, and that helped as well. Just the same my only other exercise for the five days was with Ramona, so I needed to get back to my routine.

I found a really nice period hotel near "Old Sacramento" and checked in. They gave me a discount on a suite and I took them up on it. Why ... I don't know. I was only planning on being there for one night and I was going to be alone ... so why bother? What the hell ... I did it anyway.

When I tallied up my winnings from poker earlier that morning, I found I had added nearly six thousand dollars to my winnings. That was a lot of money but I couldn't resist when it was so easy to come by. Added to my eighteen thousand, I'd made almost twenty-four thousand dollars in five days. Of course, I wasn't counting the 30% that Uncle Sam took. Just the same, I had almost seventeen thousand tax-paid dollars I didn't have when I arrived in town. I put fifteen into my bank account and kept the rest for walking around money.

It was almost six when I finally summoned up the energy to look for a place to eat. The hotel dining room looked to be the easiest and closest but I decided I wanted something different from meat and potatoes. I walked down toward the old town before I found a nice looking Mexican restaurant that didn't look like a chain. I stopped right there and walked in.

"Negra Modelo, please," I requested from the waiter. 

I remembered it was one of my favorite dark beers, along with Anchor's Brekle's Brown. I looked over the menu quickly, made an easy decision and sat back, expecting to enjoy myself.

I was still thinking about the past week ... just how much I had enjoyed being with Ramona and her friends. It had been good for me in several ways. Companionship for sure. It was something I had been doing without for too long and I was reminded that I wanted to do something about that. But first, I had to settle somewhere. Not too many women want to be with a nomad.

It was good to get out and play golf. I had almost forgotten how much I enjoyed the game and I wanted to play more ... a lot more. I was also very lucky, I knew. The money from the casino was a windfall and wouldn't really change much for me. I was in no real need of money at present. It was just nice not to have to worry about it and feel free to do whatever I wanted to do.

The only question was where I should be doing it.    

It was an hour-and-a-half from Sacramento to San Francisco on a Saturday morning. I'd called ahead the night before and was happy to get a room at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel. I'd heard a lot about this place and I thought I would splurge and stay there for at least two nights. There weren't any specials on at that hotel.

When I arrived in my room I quickly checked the public play golf courses and decided to try the Presidio. The virtual fly-over on my laptop showed a course with a lot of different holes, few of which were on level ground. I thought it would be a good test to see how far I'd progressed after a few games.

I phoned the pro shop and while they wouldn't give me a time, they were confident I wouldn't have any trouble hooking up with another two or three players. I decided to go early the next morning to get off as soon as I could. I didn't count on the temperature being a lot cooler than I had become used to. The pro shop was happy to sell me a sweater ... again at no discount.

I joined another threesome of men, not much older than me. They claimed to have handicaps in the fifteen to twenty range. I decided to play to a ten which was probably generous on my part. Right off the bat they wanted to let me know what we were playing for. Ten dollar Nassau and five each on the par threes for closest to the pin. Side bets were strictly individual. I shrugged. I was in their foursome so I played along.

Just short of four hours later I was a hundred and five dollars richer. Either their handicaps were imaginary or all three of them had a particularly bad game. I played two shots over my stated ten handicap with an eighty four and felt good about my game. It was a tough course, its rating being 72.3 for a par 72. I had to re-learn a bunch of shots I'd forgotten all about, including side-hill lies, blind approaches, and narrow, heavily treed fairways. 

We parted after I bought the required drink in the lounge and headed back to the parking lot. It was just past one pm and I decided to stick around the city and play tourist. After a streetcar ride past the Embarcadero I ended up at Fisherman's Wharf. I guess this is what the tourists were looking for. Lots of little shops with all kinds of souvenirs and trinkets. I chose instead a pub with a view of the Bay and nursed a couple of beers before returning to the hotel. I guess I wasn't in the tourist mood after all.

I cancelled my second night and took off the next morning for Mendocino County on the northern coast. I stayed at the Little River Inn and played their seaside course the next day, before heading off to Oregon a day later.  I got lucky and got a room at Bandon Dunes Golf Resort and had no trouble picking up a game the next morning. This time, though, it was a real challenge for me. Wind off the ocean and a genuine links course were both relatively new to me. 

I consulted the assistant pro for some advice and he made it plain. First, take a caddy. They know the course and will steer you in the right direction. Second, forget the big drive. Play to stay in play. He called it target golf and after a couple of holes, I knew exactly what he meant. The three men I was playing with were also visitors staying at a local motel and this was their third round in three days. They said every day had been different and, while it frustrated them at times, it was a great lesson in controlling their swing and their ambitions.

My playing partners had only one caddy carrying two bags. I'd never had a caddy before, but within three holes I was glad I decided to this time. The boys talked about a legendary female caddy, but apparently she was in high demand and wasn't available that morning. As the story went, she was very attractive and capable of carrying two bags. To top it off, she was a pretty damn good golfer in her own right.

I shot an eighty-seven and felt like I'd got as much out of my game as I was able. I found I was adapting constantly to both the wind and the course, often guessing at yardages when factoring in the wind. Again, my caddy kept me from making any big mistakes. One thing was for certain, the rough was truly rough. There were no magic escapes the way you might on some carefully manicured course. You learned to take your lumps and get on with it.

I was one of the losers this time and the winner looked after the post game drinks as expected. We chatted about the course and just how much it challenged us. We all agreed that our regular courses were a whole hell of a lot easier on both our psyche and our scores. I happily bought a second round in thanks for having three true gentlemen as playing companions.

The next morning, again on the advice of the assistant pro, I was off north toward Lincoln City and the famous Salishan Resort. I had phoned ahead and made a reservation for two nights, knowing it wasn't a long drive into Portland from there. I stopped on the way at The Devils Punchbowl near Depoe Bay and got quite a spectacular viewing as the surf pounded into the huge cavern, spewing foam and water up through the top opening.

A few minutes later I was at Salishan. I checked in before exploring the area. Lincoln City was very much dedicated to tourists with a big Casino on the north end, any number of restaurants, art and artisan galleries and, of course, beachcombing. It was early in the season so it wasn't very crowded during a weekday, even on a Friday. Apparently, the visitors were expected to arrive that evening, most of them from Portland or Salem, while Oregon State University wasn't far away. Partying students were not unusual although it was exam time and almost their year end.

Since the next day would be a Saturday, I talked to the pro shop who suggested to come quite early or else wait until later in the afternoon. Either one would give me the best chance of getting on quickly. I chose to be early. I was still operating on Chicago time in some ways. I always had been an early riser so maintaining that, even on this road trip, wasn't difficult.

The pro shop opened at six o'clock and I made sure I was up and ready to go by then. Unfortunately, the restaurant wasn't open until six and I had to make do with what I could scrounge from vending machines and my little bar fridge. There would be some food at the turn I was told, so I had to hold out until then.  A couple of energy bars, an orange juice and some water would have to do me.

I picked up a twosome almost right away, quickly enough that I barely had time to stretch and limber up. The air was cool and crisp and I was glad I now had a sweater. I was matched with two older gentlemen who always played early and preferred it that way. I introduced myself and they politely acknowledged me. I didn't hear of any bets and the men claimed to be eighteen and twenty-two handicap players. I was continuing to play to a ten which I thought was more than reasonable. 

I found the course to be like many resort courses, not too difficult. It was there to show off the scenery, the greenery, and still give the players a chance to enjoy it without too much pain. I shot a very tidy eighty and felt good about it. Most of my drives found the fairway and my improving short game was coming around to where I could begin to rely on it.

My two companions played to their handicaps and we had a very pleasant three-and-a-half hours. We were almost first off and had no hold-up at all, even on the par threes. It was a treat to play a round that quickly. At the end of the game we had coffee while I added a breakfast. It was still not quite ten am. I thanked the two gentlemen, telling them how much I appreciated their company. They complimented me on my game and we parted.

I had one more night booked at the resort, so that afternoon I did a little exploring, heading up to Cannon Beach and wandering along the shore near the big Haystack Rocks. I stopped in Tillamook and joined a group of tourists on a tour of a cheese factory. Apparently their cheese is famous. When I thought how close I lived to Wisconsin all those years and never took the time to do the touristy things I had to chuckle. All it took was a little free time and some curiosity.

I dined at the lodge that evening, knowing I would be tired from the early wakeup that morning. I had already decided I would head for Hillsboro, a western suburb of Portland. The assistant pro at Bandon Dunes had recommended Pumpkin Ridge as a good test of golf. Apparently it had hosted a number of tournaments in the past. It was thirty-six holes, eighteen private and eighteen public. The public course was called Ghost Creek.

When I arrived mid-afternoon Sunday, I inquired at the pro-shop about playing on Monday and was told I shouldn't have any problem picking up a game within a few minutes. That was good enough for me. I strolled out of the shop and noticed a fairly large practice range, complete with bunkers and a pitching area. I went back into the shop and asked if I could use the range and they were kind enough to give me an okay for the price of a bucket of balls.

I pulled my clubs out of the car and carried them over to the range. As a last second afterthought, I pulled the three iron out of the wagon and stuffed it into my bag. I had been playing around it, hooding a four or choking a five wood. I wondered if my improving game might not have cured my phobia for this club.

I began to hit some seven irons, then some fours, finally summoning up the courage to pull the three out of the bag. I wish I hadn't. Again, a few good shots, followed by one or two absolutely horrible swings. Nothing had changed. The curse was still with me. When I finished the bucket, I went back into the pro shop and asked the attendant about hybrid clubs.

For the next ten minutes I got chapter and verse about their development, their strengths and weaknesses, and why one club would be better than another. I ended up surrendering to new technology and looked at a 21˚ Adams. He'd taped off the face and we went out to the range with a dozen balls. I warmed up again, then stepped up made my swing.

I don't ever recall hitting a three iron that well in my life. Not just the length and straightness, but the height. By the time I'd hit five shots, all pretty much identical to each other, I tore the tape off the face and told the pro he'd made a sale. I spent another small bucket of balls learning to shape some shots with it. I had found the silver bullet. I was going to be unbeatable now ... or so I thought.

I couldn't find a hotel up to the standards that I had been spoiling myself with, so I headed for Beaverton, home of Nike. I struck out here, not because there weren't any rooms available but because they just didn't measure up to what I was looking for. I used my laptop to search for hotels in the area and saw an Embassy Suites in Tigard, almost next to Beaverton. I'd stayed in them many times and while it wasn't luxurious, I was always satisfied. I called and booked a room for three nights.

When I checked in, I was pleased with the location. It was along side a large shopping center and several restaurants. It had full exercise/fitness facilities, free wireless and the usual Embassy Suites features. This would do fine. I was still only a few minutes from Pumpkin Ridge.

The young pro shop manager had suggested I come out between nine and ten on Monday morning. The early birds would be gone and the usual players would be just beginning to arrive. He would try and match me with some players who would be near my skills. He was pleased that I had listened to him on the hybrid and purchased exactly what he recommended. 

I arrived at Pumpkin Ridge just after nine the next morning and checked into the pro shop. I paid the green fees and picked up a dozen Titleists. I hadn't lost more than a couple on this trip, but they were getting a little worn. So to honor my new club I decided to treat it and my others to some new friends.

I waited for almost forty minutes until I was called to the first tee. I was in a foursome with two men and one woman. The woman was young, in her mid-twenties I thought, while the two men were perhaps a little older than me. The men claimed to be a seven and a ten while the woman said she would play scratch. 

"Scratch?" I asked. "Are you serious?"

"She gave me a big smile and said, "I have a LPGA card. What tees are you playing?"

The two men said blues, so I turned back to the woman. "What would you prefer?"

"The blues aren't that long. I'm okay with them," she said.

"Great ... I'm with you."

"I'm Catherine ... and you are?"

"Terry Monahan," I said, shaking her extended hand. "Nice to meet you Catherine. Are you a playing pro?"

"I have been. I've not been on the regular tour this year. I wasn't playing well and I lost what sponsorship I had. Now I have to decide what to do. Try again, or go on to something else."

"That's pretty honest of you," I suggested. "It will be interesting to play with you today. I've never had the privilege of playing with a tour professional before."  

"Well, don't go trying to compete, Terry. I'm a member here. I know this course and it'll eat you up if you get too aggressive. I'll be happy to give you some suggestions if you like."

"That would be great. I can use all the help I can get. Thank you," I smiled.

I decided to stick with my ten handicap. I noticed the course rating was 73.8 from the pro tees and 71.4 from the blues, so I expected it to be tough.

"Where are you from, Terry?" she asked as we waited for the group ahead to move on toward the green.

"Chicago lately. I was born and brought up in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Went to school at Penn State, then Wharton for my MBA. Got a job in Chicago doing mergers and acquisitions. Burned out after ten years so I bailed and sold out, packed the car and headed west. That's the short history," I said simply.

"No wife or girlfriend?" she asked.

"Ex-wife. I chose my job ahead of her so she chose to be single again. One of those lessons I hope I don't repeat."

"Sorry ... I didn't mean to pry."

"It's been five years, Catherine. I've pretty much stopped kicking myself over it. The stupid part was that I still didn't learn that the job wasn't the only thing in my life. When I finished a big project recently I knew I was done. It was just a matter of the formalities. So here I am pretending to be a golf bum and looking for a place to land."

"This is a great part of the country to live, Terry. You can play golf all year around if you don't mind a little rain and cold. Green all year and pretty nice people too," she said brightly.

"You sound like you work for the visitor's bureau," I kidded. "I take it you're a local."

"Pretty close. I was born and brought up in Eugene. Earned a golf scholarship to Oregon, then turned pro and went on the tour. Had a decent rookie year, a not so hot second year, better third, and lousy fourth. My best finish was a third in the third year. I had four top tens in four years ... not exactly Hall of Fame material. So ... now I have to make a decision," she said with a rueful smile.

"I wonder how many young women who played golf in college ever got the opportunity to play on the tour. It may not have been an award winning four years but it was four years most of your contemporaries never experienced"

She gave me a big smile. "Thanks. I guess I should be grateful. It's just that I had great expectations and they never happened."

The two men deferred to Catherine to play first and she promptly walked up to the tee box, set the ball on the tee, took a couple of practice swings, and then proceeded to smack her drive down the right center about 260 or so yards. She stepped off the tee with a smile while the three of us guys just shook our heads. We'd be lucky to be any farther than that.

I went next and had to remind myself that it wasn't a driving contest. I hit my usual drive and ended up a little right of Catherine's and five or six yards short. Not bad. The two men followed and one hit his drive into the left rough, ten yards past Catherine, while the other was down the middle but twenty yards short of her. 

The hole was listed at 392 yards and straight away with few traps but fairly narrow. Bill, the shorter of our group, hit first, choosing a six iron and hitting it left but on the green. I was next with an eight iron and was happy to see it fly straight at the center of the green and land softly. I had a putt of ten feet for a birdie, a damn fine way to start a round.




Coming From Behind Ch. 03-04



Catherine was next and hit a nine iron that was also right on line and hit a few feet short of the pin and rolled by, nearly hitting the flagstick. She had a cinch birdie from five feet or less I reckoned. 

Harry was next and hit a flyer out of the rough with a nine iron, pulling the ball left and over the green. He was not pleased if his muttered curses were any indication.

The sun had come out from behind the clouds and the temperature began to rise. At the same time a breeze picked up, giving us something else to think about. As I looked around I began to see what was a beautiful setting for a golf course. Fairly flat but well treed, textured fairways and greens, and in excellent condition. There was no sign of winter damage. As the round progressed I thought that this would be a club where I'd be happy to be a member.

At the turn, Catherine was one over par thanks to a nasty lie in a trap on the fifth hole and a couple of missed putts. One double bogey, one bogey, and two birdies. I couldn't tell if she was happy or not. She had the professional demeanor that didn't give away much of her emotions.

I was four over par, better than I expected. Catherine's help and suggestions had paid off and prevented mistakes I otherwise would have made. I used the hybrid on the sixth, eighth, and ninth and I was very happy with the results. It was now definitely the permanent replacement for the three iron. I misjudged a couple of putts that cost me and underclubbed myself twice from the fairway. Just the same, I played well.

We stopped for a brief snack at the tenth, then pressed on with our game. Both Bill and Harry were playing a bit over their handicaps. Apparently they hadn't played here before but wouldn't allow themselves to ask Catherine for advice. Bad decision, I thought. I guess that's a "guy thing," she would say. I had no compunction about asking for advice. She knew this course intimately and that was worth several strokes to me.   As we played I had a chance to talk to her a bit. She was the younger of two girls. Her sister was married with two children and living in Boise, Idaho, while her parents still lived in Eugene. Her father ran a small appliance business and her mother was a part-time librarian. Catherine, often known as Cat to her friends, was the only college educated person in the family.

She stood about five-seven or eight I guessed and well built in all respects. Her hair was a dark blonde which complemented her tan. It was pretty early in the year for her to have a tan like that. I assumed it had come from somewhere south. She was wearing the typical knee length shorts with tall stockings and a long-sleeved shirt with a vest. By the tenth hole she had shed the vest and I could see a fairly prominent chest. That came as a bit of a surprise.

I suppose I have to admit to being both a chauvinist and maybe a bigot. I had heard stories about women golfers. You know the ones: "Dykes in Spikes" and so on. It was pretty clear that Catherine was neither lesbian nor a mindless athlete. She was, as far as I could tell, a down-to-earth young woman trying to decide what to do about her future. That element put us in the same boat. We were both looking for the same thing.

"How long do you plan to stay in this area, Terry?" she asked as we sat waiting our turn at the par three fifteenth.

"Well, to be honest, I'm just looking for a reason to quit looking ... if that makes sense. I've been on the road for over two weeks and although it's been interesting I'm about ready to stop for a while and smell the coffee."

"What do you want to do if you do stop?"

"I want to look around for a business to buy. I want to find something that will interest me, satisfy me and allow me to run a business the way I think it should be run."

She sat for a few moments without saying anything, then, "Ever thought about owning a golf course?"

"No ... not for a moment. I'm not quite that well off and I'm not sure what it would take to make one profitable."

"The one thing I know about having an MBA is that it teaches you how to run a business," she said seriously. "A golf course is a business. It relies on membership, a good reputation and being kept in good playing condition."

"Don't forget cash flow," I offered.

"There you go ... it's a business." She was smiling and I was wondering where this was leading. Only one way to find out.

"So tell me, Catherine, which golf course is for sale?"

She laughed. "Was I that obvious? Yeah ... there is a course for sale over on the east side in Gresham. Some speculators bought it thinking they could convert it into property development. But the people in the area raised holy hell about that and the council wouldn't give them a permit to subdivide. So ... they've pretty well abandoned it and are trying to cut their losses by selling it."

"How do you know all this?"

"I have a friend over there that's running the place. He's thinking the club will die and God knows what will happen to it if it does. He's almost sixty and doesn't know what he'll do if it closes."

"What do these guys want for it?" I asked, now curious.

"I don't know for sure but word is they're desperate to get out from under it. They are speculators and I hear they just want to cut their losses and move onto the next project. There was talk that the county might buy it for future parkland but they couldn't get the council to go along and that idea died. Right now everything is lying dormant."

"Huh." It was all I could think of saying at that point. But ... it did set off some thinking. What would it cost to buy the property? How much would it cost to restore it to operating shape? What was the likelihood of it being a profitable venture? I think Catherine could almost hear the gears grinding and elected to say no more.

We finished the game with Catherine an easy winner, just as I expected. I finished second with an eighty-two, only one stroke over my handicap. I attributed my success to playing more often, my very handy new hybrid and, of course, Catherine's help.

Bill and Harry didn't fare so well and, since there was no money on the game, we parted afterward when they declined to join us for a celebratory drink. Catherine, however, was quite happy to share a sandwich and a glass of wine while I had a beer.

"I learned a lot from you today, Catherine. Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow to see if can put it into action again."

"You're welcome. It was a pleasure to play with you."

"Thank you, but I don't know your last name."

"It's Walston, like the old-time TV actor. No relation though."

"Well, Catherine, what do you do these days when you're not playing on the tour?"

"Not much but practice. I've got some résumés out looking for a job. I have a degree in business administration but so far no bites."

"So," I ventured, "the ideal job for you would be a management position at a golf course." I was grinning as I said.

"Well ... I don't know about management, but something along those lines. That would be great."

We sat quietly for a while before I spoke again.

"Do you know who to talk to about this golf course that's for sale?"

She looked at me with wide eyed surprise. "Are you thinking of getting involved?"

I shrugged. "Not sight unseen. But maybe if you and I went over there and had a look-see I might want to talk to the owners and see what they've got in mind."

"You want me to go with you?"

"Sure. You know something about the place and you said you had a friend there. That would certainly help to get accurate and helpful information. We'd have to start somewhere."

"We would?"

"Yeah. You did say you could see yourself working at a golf course in a management position didn't you?"

"Well ... we were just talking hypothetically ... weren't we?"

"Yeah ... but when hypothetical becomes reality ... well then you have to decide," I smiled.

"Are you really serious about this?" 

"Absolutely. I have some funds and I have access to firms that can supply funds if the investment is sound. That's one of the advantages of having been in the business I was in. Most of the time we had to find money to make some of those mergers work. I know where to look for low cost capital and it isn't at a bank."

"You're not kidding about this are you?" she said, more as a statement than a question.

"No ... I'm very serious. I love golf. You love golf. I assume your friend loves golf. If we can make this work as a business think of how much enjoyment we could get out of it."

She was shocked into silence. I don't think she really understood I was seriously considering the possibility. She was trying to get her head around it and it just wouldn't fit. At least ... not yet.

"Are you free tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Would you join me and show me the course and introduce me to your friend. I think we should play a round just to get an up-close look at the place. Can you do that?"

She nodded, still wide-eyed in amazement.  

"Can I pick you up? I'm staying at the Embassy Suites in Tigard."

"Oh ... okay ... here ... I'll give you my address in Lake Oswego. Do you need a map?"

"Nope. I've got a navigation unit in my car. What time?"

"It doesn't matter. They aren't very busy, especially during the week. I'll call Scotty and let him know we're coming. Should I say anything about why?"

"No ... not yet. It's premature and it may turn out to be an impossible project. So, better to keep it to ourselves until we find out more. That okay with you?"

"Yeah ... sure. But ... I've got to admit ... you've got me excited about the idea. I never dreamed I might get involved in saving the place. I don't know whether I'm going to sleep tonight just thinking about it."

"It's just an idea right now, Catherine. Let's stay calm and wait and see what we learn tomorrow and then we can find out who owns it and what they want for it."

"Okay," she smiled, "I'll try. I guess I should thank Matt for putting you in our foursome today. If I'd never met you we might never have discussed the possibility."

"That's the way it works sometimes. Serendipity. It happens like that in big business too. A casual word to someone who is listening and knows someone else who might want to talk. You'd be surprised. Anyway, how does ten o'clock tomorrow morning sound? I don't want you to miss your beauty sleep."

"Hah! Some chance. I'm usually up by six or six-thirty."

"Ah ... an early riser. That's something else we have in common. So, I'll see you tomorrow morning at ten at your place."

To Be Continued