I know. It’s all good. Krista’s going to come around soon. So, what happened with Torrey anyway? Brendan said you looked like you were rounding first and sliding into second.”
“Nice analogy, but I’d say I’m still at bat with one ball and one strike. I’m still a long way from a base hit, much less a home run.”
“Like I said, seeing our bean-counter friend over there, neither of us has much time to lose,” Josh said. “Listen, why don’t you come back to the table and have another drink? Maybe we can spray some foam on that fire Brendan’s got going.”
Julian thought for a second. He really did have to look like he had his heart in this contest, or Josh would be bummed. Besides, it was always fun to watch his partner at work when he sank his teeth into a problem. “Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s make sure we get another day before we’re voted off the island.”
“Good morning, Torrey. Come in.”
Torrey looked up from Cosmopolitan to see Dr. Jenna Arthurs holding open the door to her inner office. Tall, slim and elegant in a tailored linen suit, Dr. Arthurs had to be at least fifty, based on the dates of the degrees lining one wall of her office. But she looked ten years younger and hadn’t seemed to age a day in the three years Torrey had been her patient.
Dr. Arthurs closed the door as Torrey installed herself in her usual position at one end of the soft, brown leather sofa.
“It’s good to see you again, Torrey.”
“I’m glad to see you again, too. Now that we’re down to once a month, it seems like such a long time between our sessions.”
“How have you been?” The therapist smoothed her skirt as she sat down on the blue fabric chair that fit her body perfectly.
“Okay. Really busy. Ever since I started caddying, I’ve been working my butt off. Maybe that’s a good thing, since my butt needed a little trimming.” She sighed.
Dr. Arthurs shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to worry about in that department. You look great. All that sun is doing you good.”
“Thanks. I’m going full out, every day, but it’s like I’m on a treadmill. I don’t move forward. I’m still no closer to landing a sponsor.”
Dr. Arthurs gave her an understanding nod. “Last time we talked you were trying to get a loan too, weren’t you?”
“I tried, but the bank knows I wouldn’t have any golf income coming in for months, and I’d have to keep scrambling if I wash out at Q-School. My aunt offered to help some, but I couldn’t let her, especially after all the money she’s spent to pay for my sessions here. It would have cleaned her out.”
“I’d imagine it would be a challenge to land a sponsor when you haven’t played competitively for such a long time.”
Torrey flinched at the reminder. “That’s an understatement. Most of the companies I’ve contacted haven’t even answered my messages. I really hoped I could convince a couple of marketing guys who were friends of my father to take a chance on me, but it didn’t work out with them either. To risk money and their company’s reputation on somebody who hadn’t done anything on the course for four years…well, they just couldn’t swallow that. I can’t really blame them.”
Dr. Arthurs leaned forward, looking intent. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about a future that doesn’t involve professional golf. But you have to remind yourself that achieving that dream is just one measure of success in life. There are so many others.”
Torrey didn’t totally accept that, but she knew she had to try. “I know. I’m just not ready to let go of a dream I’ve had my whole life. I have to succeed at golf. I owe it to Dad.”
“Your father would have been proud of you no matter what.”
“Not unless I fought with everything I had and got up every time they knocked me down.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you keep on doing?” her therapist asked in that gentle, reassuring voice that had so often been a
“Nice analogy, but I’d say I’m still at bat with one ball and one strike. I’m still a long way from a base hit, much less a home run.”
“Like I said, seeing our bean-counter friend over there, neither of us has much time to lose,” Josh said. “Listen, why don’t you come back to the table and have another drink? Maybe we can spray some foam on that fire Brendan’s got going.”
Julian thought for a second. He really did have to look like he had his heart in this contest, or Josh would be bummed. Besides, it was always fun to watch his partner at work when he sank his teeth into a problem. “Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s make sure we get another day before we’re voted off the island.”
“Good morning, Torrey. Come in.”
Torrey looked up from Cosmopolitan to see Dr. Jenna Arthurs holding open the door to her inner office. Tall, slim and elegant in a tailored linen suit, Dr. Arthurs had to be at least fifty, based on the dates of the degrees lining one wall of her office. But she looked ten years younger and hadn’t seemed to age a day in the three years Torrey had been her patient.
Dr. Arthurs closed the door as Torrey installed herself in her usual position at one end of the soft, brown leather sofa.
“It’s good to see you again, Torrey.”
“I’m glad to see you again, too. Now that we’re down to once a month, it seems like such a long time between our sessions.”
“How have you been?” The therapist smoothed her skirt as she sat down on the blue fabric chair that fit her body perfectly.
“Okay. Really busy. Ever since I started caddying, I’ve been working my butt off. Maybe that’s a good thing, since my butt needed a little trimming.” She sighed.
Dr. Arthurs shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to worry about in that department. You look great. All that sun is doing you good.”
“Thanks. I’m going full out, every day, but it’s like I’m on a treadmill. I don’t move forward. I’m still no closer to landing a sponsor.”
Dr. Arthurs gave her an understanding nod. “Last time we talked you were trying to get a loan too, weren’t you?”
“I tried, but the bank knows I wouldn’t have any golf income coming in for months, and I’d have to keep scrambling if I wash out at Q-School. My aunt offered to help some, but I couldn’t let her, especially after all the money she’s spent to pay for my sessions here. It would have cleaned her out.”
“I’d imagine it would be a challenge to land a sponsor when you haven’t played competitively for such a long time.”
Torrey flinched at the reminder. “That’s an understatement. Most of the companies I’ve contacted haven’t even answered my messages. I really hoped I could convince a couple of marketing guys who were friends of my father to take a chance on me, but it didn’t work out with them either. To risk money and their company’s reputation on somebody who hadn’t done anything on the course for four years…well, they just couldn’t swallow that. I can’t really blame them.”
Dr. Arthurs leaned forward, looking intent. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about a future that doesn’t involve professional golf. But you have to remind yourself that achieving that dream is just one measure of success in life. There are so many others.”
Torrey didn’t totally accept that, but she knew she had to try. “I know. I’m just not ready to let go of a dream I’ve had my whole life. I have to succeed at golf. I owe it to Dad.”
“Your father would have been proud of you no matter what.”
“Not unless I fought with everything I had and got up every time they knocked me down.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you keep on doing?” her therapist asked in that gentle, reassuring voice that had so often been a
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