Linda shook her head. "When Aunt Cissy told my father to contact Win, it was the first time she'd mentioned his name to him in years."

Myron said nothing. Again the obvious question hung in the air unasked: What had happened between Win and his mother? But Myron would never voice it. This conversation had already gone too far. Asking would be an unforgivable betrayal; if Win wanted him to know, he'd tell him.

Time passed, but neither one of them noticed. They talked, mostly about Chad and the kind of son he was.

Jack had held on and still led by eight strokes. A gigantic lead. If he blew it this time, it would be worse than twenty-three years ago.

The tent began to empty out, but Myron and Linda stayed and talked some more. A feeling of intimacy began to warm him; he found it hard to breathe when he looked at her. For a moment he closed his eyes. Nothing, he realized, was really going on here. If there was an attraction of some sort, it was simply a classic case of damselin distress syndrome-and there was nothing less politically correct (not to mention Neanderthal) than that.

The crowd was gone now. For a long time nobody came into view. At one point, Win stuck his head into the tent. Seeing them together, he arched an eyebrow and then slipped back out.

Myron checked his watch. "I have to go. I have an appointment? +

"With whom?"

"Tad Crispin."

"Here at Merion?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you'll be long?"

"No."

She started fiddling with her engagement ring, studying it as though making an appraisal. "Do you mind if I

wait?" she asked. "We can catch dinner together." She took off her glasses. The eyes were puffy, but they were also strong and focused.

Okay." .

He met up with Esperanza at the clubhouse. She made a face at him.

"What?" he said.

"You thinking about Jessica?" Esperanza asked suspiciously.

"No, why?"

"Because you're making your nauseating, lovesickpuppy face. You know. The one that makes me want to throw up on your shoes."

"Come on," he said. "Tad Crispin is waiting."

The meeting ended with no deal. But they were getting close.

"'That contract he signed with Zoom," Esperanza said. "A major turkey."

"I know." .

"Crispin likes you."

"We'll see what happens," Myron said.

He excused himself and walked quickly back to the tent. Linda Coldren was in the same seat, her back to him, her posture still queenlike.

"Linda?"

"It's dark now," she said softly. "Chad doesn't like the dark. I know he's sixteen, but I still leave the hall light on. Just in case."

Myron remained still. When she tumed toward himwhen he first saw her smile it was like something corkscrewed into his heart. "When Chad was little," she began, "he always carried around this red plastic golf club and White ball. It's funny. When I think about him now.