Chapter 12

Beth and I were reclining by the pool when her parents got home.

"Ellie, look at this," Mack said in mock alarm. "The body snatchers have grabbed the occupants of our house and replaced them with these two."

"Very funny, daddy," Beth said.

I told Mack and Ellie that Beth and I decided to try to get along better — at least for a little while.

Ellie looked at me and shook her head.

"It looks to me like you two found common ground last night," she said. "If you get my meaning."

I told her I got her meaning perfectly, but she was off base.

"I've never lied to you or Mack," I said. "At least I don't think I have. Beth slept on my couch last night. I slept alone in my bed. She was asleep when I went in. She was asleep when I left this morning. To my knowledge at least one of us was asleep at all times during the night. Would you say that's accurate, Beth?"

Beth agreed.

"Mom, dad," she said. "You both know I've lied to you a hundred times — maybe a thousand. But I won't now. R.J. and I did not have any manner of sex last night. If he'd taken less time over here, I would have tried to convince him otherwise. I tried to convince him this afternoon. He has too much respect for you two to have any type relationship with me other than friendship without discussing it with you two first.

"Don't worry, Daddy. That conversation isn't going to happen now. It may not happen ever. But, if he and I decide we want to date or we just want to sleep together, we'll talk to you first."

Ellie looked at Mack for a minute.

"Well I can tell you right now what I'll say," she said. "It's a bad idea. I hope you two will get along, but I don't want you anywhere near dating or sex. If you two can't keep your hands off each other, maybe it's best if we don't know about it."

I told them there was no reason to worry about anything now.

"It's a bridge we can cross when — and if — we come to it," I said. "But if Beth and I decide we'd like to spend more time together, it will be as two adults who've discussed the pros and cons of doing so. I appreciate that you look out for Beth, and I appreciate you look out for me.

"If it looks as though an unreasonable situation has arisen that might disrupt this household, Beth and I both are mature enough to recognize that, and either ease the disruption, or end whatever relationship we may choose to enter."

Mack said that sounded reasonable to him. I don't think Ellie was sold on it, but I think she held out hope that Beth and I couldn't co-exist.

"Are we allowed to call you Beth again, too?" was all she asked. "Or is that reserved."

Beth laughed.

"Mom, I'm sorry I was a brat," she said. "Dad was right. That sort of attitude might serve me in Boston, but it won't fly down here. R.J. did a pretty nice job of putting me in my place last night, too."

Beth and I got along very well and the tension in the Ferguson house was lessened greatly.

Without the constant griping, the laughter and fun I'd grown to enjoy returned — and Beth joined right in the middle of it.

I began to wonder if she had a split personality. I found she had a wicked sense of humor and she didn't mind poking fun at herself, too. Allie and Courtney paid frequent visits and Aaron began to meet me a few blocks from his house and ride his bike beside me when I ran in the mornings. I tried to watch to make sure he wasn't overdoing it. A couple of times I cut my run short just so he could rest, but he seemed to recover pretty quickly.

When Beth learned I'd never been golfing — except for putt-putt — she decided she was going to be my personal instructor.

"What NFL quarterback doesn't play golf all winter?" she asked.

I told her I wasn't even a Division I quarterback yet, so we didn't need to rush onto the links.

"It'll be fun," she said.

It was not fun. One of my mottos deals with failure: "The key to success is never to try something you're not good at."

I was not good at golf, but Beth showed surprising patience.

After two holes I was ready to quit forever. Beth was driving the ball down the middle of fairway while I took a tour of every inch of the course. We stopped after nine holes and we went to a driving range.

She took time to show me what I was doing wrong and how I might do it better.

"Watch my hips," she said. "See how they shift during my backswing? Now, watch my hands."

I was still watching her hips, I admit it.

When I glanced at her hands, Beth was looking back over her shoulder with a Cheshire cat grin. "Caught ya," she said. "My hands are up here. Find my boobs. That a boy. Now, in a minute or so, trace my arms north."

She explained I needed to make sure the club face stays closed on the downswing so it comes through the same arc it created on the backswing.

"Think of throwing a pass," she said. "You try to use the same motion on every throw. Your arm ends up in the same position each time. Your hand ends up in the same spot each throw. Right?"

I told her that was pretty much the case. You strive to eliminate hitches in your motion to get rid of the ball quicker.

"Exactly," she exclaimed. "It's the same concept. You strive to eliminate hitches in your swing so you follow the same path on every swing."

It made sense. By the third or fourth bucket of balls, I was seeing real improvement. My biggest problem was pulling my head up too quickly to try to follow the path of the ball.

Beth admonished me periodically.

"I'll watch the ball," she said. "You watch the ground."

I took a break and watched Beth hit some shots. She was a very good golfer. She had a nice form — and her golf swing wasn't bad, either.

"It's all muscle memory," she told me. "You train your muscles to react the way their supposed to without you having to think about it."

She told me to pencil her in for an hour of driving range time for the next few days. By Sunday, she promised to have me ready for a real course again.

She was right. By Sunday I wasn't ready to join the PGA, but I found golf is a lot of fun when you're not chasing your ball into other people's yards. I managed to shoot below 100 for 18 holes. I still couldn't putt — grass was a lot different that carpet — but I was pretty sure I'd come close to 100 on the first nine holes I played.

Our week's agreement was over, and I was expecting a full-court press from Beth on the way home.

Instead she asked me if she could come with me Monday when I visited Children's Hospital.

"Allie told me about what you do there," she said. "It sounds like something I'd like."

I told her to talk to her mother to make sure she understood exactly what she was getting into.

We talked about the kids at the hospital and the upcoming football season. The subject of sex didn't come up.

I was half disappointed and half relieved.

Ellie gave Beth pretty much the same speech she'd given me — OK, she left out the soft-hearted part and put in a part about Beth being relieved when some of the kids died — and Beth decided she'd like to go with me for a few days to get a better feel for it.

I pulled Ellie aside after the conversation.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on her," I said. "I mean, she's trying, at least. She's been pretty easy to get along with the past week or so. I think you should give her some credit."

Ellie smiled at me.

"You poor boy," she said. "Beth is a chameleon. She changes to meet the circumstance. She sees the way to land you isn't seduction. You're too smart for that. But she's wily. I'll give her that much. In a week she's convinced you — and her dad — that she's seen the error of her ways and she's a new person.

"I guess I just see through the bullshit a little better."

I said that might be the case.

"Or, you might just be wrong," I said. "I know it's rare, but don't discount that possibility."

Ellie said she hoped she was wrong, but for now she was taking a wait-and-see attitude.

Beth stuck with me during our hospital visit. I had decided I liked the idea of spending time with a couple of kids instead of trying to visit five or six each time I stopped by. Most of the volunteers took that tact, simply to avoid becoming attached to anyone.

I usually took the kids that were such terrors no one wanted to spend much time with them. I always took the same path — yep, your life is crap. I know it, you know it, but you can be mad for — literally sometimes — the rest of your life, or you can try to get as much out of whatever time you have left.

Honesty worked with most of the kids. I can't say it worked with all of them. One little boy refused to even look at me for the first two weeks I would visit him. I kept showing up anyway and finally he gave in. He was still a little bastard most of the time, but at least I had shown him someone cared enough about him to keep coming back.