First Date (12 page)

Because it was a sport that could be played alone, Addy loved it. No coach yelling at her, no teammates barking orders. No teammates’ parents yelling from the sidelines. Just her and clubs and silence for hours on end.

Silence. Kara was already in trouble.

“And what are you smirking about?” Kara asked.

“I was just thinking about how hard it’s going to be for you to stay quiet for eighteen holes.”

Kara put her hands on her hips. “And what are you implying?”

“I’m not
implying
anything. You, my dear friend, are one of the loudest people I know. Having met your family, I know you come by it honestly. But golf is a quiet sport.” Addy grinned and stood over Kara. “I can give you lessons, though, if you’d like.”

“In what, quiet or golf?” Kara shot back.

“Both.”

“Ha ha ha. Don’t forget that you need me. If I’m off this show, you’re moving in with one of the other girls. Anna Grace, maybe. Or Lila,” Kara warned.

“Okay, okay.” Addy sat on Kara’s bed. “Lesson number one: Real golf is nothing at all like miniature golf.”

“So no cute little windmills or purple golf balls?”

Addy spent the next hour trying to explain the sport. Kara tried to follow but got confused. Addy described the different types of clubs, how each was used, and how to know which club was best based on distance from the green and the condition of the lay.

“Okay, just to make sure I’m clear. The green is where I want to be. Sand, water, and anywhere off the grass is bad. Hitting hard won’t necessarily help, and every hole will require a different strategy. Is that right?”

“Pretty much.” Addy nodded.

“And how long have you been playing golf?”

“About ten years.”

“Hmmm. So this is my kazoo moment?” Kara raised an eyebrow.

“You could come out dressed like a windmill.”

“Very funny.”

The girls were able to practice that day and the next before the cameras began rolling. Hank had reminded the girls that since Jonathon is a well-rounded young man, his date should be well-rounded also. Talented, athletic, smart. They should be able to interact with him on many levels.

Hank had been surprisingly calm since returning from New York. Kara guessed he was upset over the pictures of him yelling at Addy. He had aspirations of doing more than just this reality TV show and he didn’t want his reputation tainted. So he was sugary sweet—even to Addy. But Addy could see the anger in his eyes when he looked her way.

Eric remained the only kind face on the crew. All the others cowered before Hank and obediently followed his example. Eric countered Hank’s behavior by being even nicer to Addy, making sure she got first on the list for special days out—massages, salon appointments, even the best tee times for golf practice.

The others were furious at this, complaining to Hank and saying horrible things to Addy. But she didn’t care. She was determined to enjoy every minute on the show.
After all, if Hank has his way, my days here are numbered
.

“Well, look. If it isn’t the Bobbsey Twins,” Anna Grace said as she passed them on her way to the fourth hole. “Aren’t y’all just so cute?”

“Yes it is, and yes we are,” Kara said. “And how are you? Having trouble with the course?”

“No,” Anna Grace said. “I am doing just fine. As if it matters. This is a formality. They can’t kick us off because we don’t know how to play golf. It’s about how we look in our little outfits. Too bad about that, Addy. Because you are sure not doing well there.” Anna Grace eyed Addy’s white Bermuda shorts and green polo. She was beginning to give a lecture on fashion when a stray golf ball flew within inches of her face. She turned her anger on the offending golfer—Jessica.

“Hey, you did that on purpose,” Anna Grace yelled across the fairway.

Jessica walked toward Anna Grace, her finger wagging in the air. “Girl, if I wanted to hit you, I wouldn’t use a golf ball. It was just a bad hit. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

“You better watch it.” Anna Grace’s voice got louder. She walked closer to Jessica, then saw the camera crew coming over the hill. “Well, girls.” Anna Grace smiled, suddenly the nicest young lady in all of the South. “It was great talking with y’all, but I need to get to work. I’m not too good at this, you know. Toodle-oo.” She waved, glanced up at the cameras to make sure they caught how wonderfully friendly and humble she was, then picked up her bag and walked toward the crew, chest out, smile on.

Addy rolled her eyes.

“Cameras, Addy, cameras,” Kara reminded, her own smile in place. “Hank’s already looking for ways to make you look bad. Let’s not give them to him.”

By the tenth hole, Kara was wiped out. “Who knew golf could be so exhausting?”

“Yes, well, having to hit the ball twenty times for each hole
can
wear a person out.”

“Are you
mocking
me?” Kara said. “Just because you get your turkeys and Humphrey Bogarts doesn’t mean you can laugh at
my
score. If this were bowling, I would be killing you, young lady.
Killing
you.”

“Birdies and bogies, Kara.” Addy shook her head at her friend’s failing attempts to remember her golf lessons from the day before. “And I’m
not
getting bogies. Birdies, yes. And eagles.”

“Well, I think I am doing so horribly that I deserve to make up my own lingo.” Kara leaned against her club. “Twenty over par is now officially a turkey. Hitting the ball in the water at least five times is an alligator.” Kara winked at Addy. “That one is for you, my Florida friend.”

“
Golf According to Kara
.” Addy laughed. “You should write a book.”

“Maybe I will. In fact, I think I’m going to start on it right now, while it’s all fresh in my head. Think you could finish the game without me?”

“I suppose I could manage,” Addy said, glad for the opportunity to move quickly through the final holes.

“Don’t look so eager. You’re hurting my feelings.” Kara shouldered her bag and started walking back toward the waiting vans. “See you back at the trailer.”

Addy looked around. No cameras, no girls, no one. She breathed a sigh. As much as she loved Kara, talking all day every day was exhausting. Addy looked forward to some silence. She was tempted to go back a few holes so the end wouldn’t come so soon. She glanced at the sky. Not much daylight left. She only had time to finish the course. That must be why all the cameramen were packing up for the day.

“Hi there, Addy.”

Addy knew that voice. Her toes started tingling before she even turned around.

“Jonathon.” Anna Grace’s face suddenly came to mind, her critique of Addy’s outfit replaying in her head. What must she look like—sweaty, hair coming out of her ponytail, grass stains from digging around trying to find Kara’s stray golf balls?

“Addy?”

Addy realized this wasn’t the first time he had said that. “Sorry. I was just . . .”

“Thinking?” Jonathon finished.

“Yes.” Addy looked down, stomping the grass with her foot.

“You do a lot of that.”

“What?”

“Think.”

“Oh yes, I guess I do. I come from a small, quiet family. Lots of time to think. I guess I’m not quite used to all this.”

“Must be nice.”

“What?”

“Having quiet. I wouldn’t know what that was like.”

“No, I guess not.” Addy looked for a way to try to make a fresh start with Jonathon. “Tell you what. I was looking forward to finishing the course in silence. Want to join me?”

“No talking?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Absolutely none.”

“Really?” He sounded like a kid sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Just the sounds of the clubs swinging and golf balls flying. And birds. And the wind in the trees. You’ll be amazed at the things you hear when you don’t talk.”

“Deal.” Jonathon motioned—quietly—for Addy to begin.

She wasn’t surprised to discover that Jonathon was significantly better than she but was relieved to stay within a few strokes of his score. After three holes, though, he started laughing.

“I’ve had enough silence. Could you really have stayed quiet the whole time?”

“Sure.” Addy shrugged.

“I can’t do it. Even when I’m playing by myself, I listen to my iPod or talk on my phone between holes.”

“Are you ever by yourself much?” Addy noted that in just the last ten minutes, he had received and responded to dozens of text messages.

Jonathon completed yet another text. “Those are mostly from friends. They want to know what I’m doing and with whom—you know, typical guy stuff.” Looking down at an incoming text, he grinned. “This one’s from my mom. She wants to make sure I finished my research paper for English class.” His thumbs flew over the tiny keyboard as he mouthed, “Yes, Mom,” then flipped the phone shut and returned it to his back pocket.

“What’s your mom like?” Addy was curious to know more about the First Lady.

Having worked as an interior designer before her husband began his political career, Mrs. Jackson had completely redone many of the rooms in the White House when the First Family moved in. She allowed a camera crew to tape the whole thing, turning it into a popular prime-time documentary three years before. Mrs. Jackson’s tasteful updating had been impressive, earning her rave reviews from the public and from other professionals. Her designs were so popular, home decor and furniture stores across the country had doubled their business the following year, selling out of fabrics and decorative items that mirrored those in the White House. And like her husband and son, Mrs. Jackson was quite comfortable in front of the cameras, leaving viewers feeling more like neighbors than the American public listening to its First Lady.

“Did you watch the special about her remodel a couple years back?” Jonathon asked, leaving Addy wondering if he could read her mind.

“I did. She did a great job.”

“Well, that’s my mom. She wasn’t acting for the cameras; she really is that outgoing and energetic. Sometimes
too
energetic.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

“My mom can do a hundred things all at the same time, so she thinks my sister and I can too,” Jonathon said. “And really, Alexandra is a lot like Mom, so she doesn’t have trouble keeping up. But not me. I can’t go like that.”

“Not a multitasker?” Addy asked.

“Not at all. I’m more like my dad—slow and steady.”

Addy found it hard to comprehend that she was hearing about the First Family. She listened as Jonathon told stories about growing up in Washington, DC. His father had been elected to his first term as a senator from Indiana when Jonathon was just three years old, so most of his memories revolved around famous leaders and celebrities. While Addy was home studying her times tables, Jonathon had been dining with speakers of the house and secretaries of state.

“A couple years ago, I got to go to Japan with my dad.”

“Wow,” Addy exclaimed.

“It was amazing. We met with the prime minister and several other leaders of the country. They treated us so well. Americans can learn a lot from the hospitality of the Japanese.” Jonathon grunted.

“Have you gone places where people were rude to your father?”

“Yes, Vermont.”

Addy laughed. “Really?”

“They hate Dad.”

“Isn’t that hard on you?”

“Sure it is.” Jonathon shouldered his golf bag. “But it’s part of the job. We all do what we can to help make him look good. Sometimes that’s easier to do than others.”

He looked at Addy in a way that made her almost forget how to hold her golf club.

Addy cleared her throat. “You have an exciting life.”

“I guess. It has its drawbacks, though.” Jonathon pointed behind him to the four Secret Service agents who always stayed within a hundred feet of the couple. “They go everywhere. And I mean
everywhere
. I’d trade trips to Asia for some extra privacy any day.”

She could tell it was Jonathon’s turn to think, so they played out the rest of the course in relative silence.

As they finished out the eighteenth hole, Addy found herself sad to see the afternoon end. They put away their clubs and walked back to the vans, then Jonathon turned to face her.

“Thanks, Addy.”

She suddenly felt very warm, despite the slight chill in the March air.

“This was great. Maybe we can do it again sometime?” He paused, looking uncomfortable and nervous—the same look he’d had when she saw him in the forest. But this time, Addy knew it was genuine. No pretenses. He felt awkward. Just like she did. In Addy’s mind, that made him even more attractive.

She smiled and nodded. “I’d love that.”

Jonathon reached out and grabbed her hand, covering it with both of his. “Thanks.”

She couldn’t believe how a simple touch from this boy could make her heart race like she’d just run a marathon. But there it was. She glanced at the van waiting just a few feet away. “I guess I should be getting back to The Mansion.”