"One toumament decides all that'?"

She tilted the glass at him as though making a toast.

"That's right."

Talk about pressure. "So when Jack failed Q school, he'd stay home for the year?"

She nodded "How did Jack and Chad get along?" .

"Chad used to worship his father," Linda said.

"And now?"

She looked off, her face vaguely pained. "Now Chad is old enough to wonder why his father keeps losing. I

don't know what he thinks anymore. But Jack is a good man. He tries very hard. You have to understand what happened to him. Losing the Open that way it might sound overly melodramatic, but it killed something inside him. Not even having a son could make him whole."

"It shouldn't matter so much," Myron said, hearing the echo of Win in his words. "It was just one tournament."

"You were involved in a lot of big games," she said.

; "Ever choke away a victory like Jack did?"

"No."

"Neither have I."

Two gray-haired men sporting matching green ascots made their way down the buifet table. They leaned over each food selection and frowned like it had ants. Their plates were still piled high enough to cause the occasional avalanche.

"There's something else," Linda said.

Myron waited.

She adjusted the sunglasses and put her hands on the table palms down. "Jack and I are not close. We've haven't been close in many years."

When she didn't continue, Myron said, "But you've stayed married."

"Yes."

He wanted to ask why, but the question was so obvious, just hanging out there within easy view, that to voice it would be redundant.

"I am a constant reminder of his failures," she continued.

"It's not easy for a man to live with that. We're supposed to be life partners, but I have what Jack longs for most." Linda tilted her head. "It's funny."

"What?"

"l never allow mediocrity on the golf course. Yet I

allowed it to dominate my personal life. Don't you find that odd?"

Myron made a noncommittal motion with his head.

He could feel Linda's unhappiness radiating off her like a breaking fever. She looked up now and smiled at him.

The smile was intoxicating, nearly breaking his heart. He found himself wanting to lean over and hold Linda Coldren.

He felt this almost uncontrollable urge to press her against him and feel the sheen of her hair in his face. He tried to remember the last time he had held such thought for any woman but Jessica; no answer came to him.

"Tell me about you," Linda suddenly said. .

The change of subject caught him off guard. He sort of shook his head. "Boring stuff."

"Oh, I doubt that," she said, almost playfully. "Come on now. It'll distract me."

Myron shook his head again.

"I know you almost played pro basketball. I know you hurt your knee. I know you went to law school at Harvard.