They both turned to look at the makeshift course. Most of the players were families with small children and groups of teenagers huddled together. A night this cold was a good excuse to put your arm around a girl, he thought, remembering when he’d been fifteen or sixteen and girls had been a total mystery. In some ways he supposed that hadn’t changed.

Reggie studied the line to start the course. “We could absolutely play or we could go to Holiday Spirits and get a drink.”

Toby laughed. “Sold.”

They walked the short distance to the bar and discovered they weren’t the only adults to have that idea. The place was busy. He looked around and spotted a small table in the back corner.

“Over there,” he said, pointing.

As they walked, he began to peel off layers. Reggie did the same. When they arrived at the table, they hung jackets, scarves and sweaters over the rack by the wall. She pulled off her horseshoe hat and smoothed her hair.

“When did you cut it?” he asked.

“My senior year of college.” Humor flashed in her eyes. “I couldn’t go the rest of my life with a ponytail.”

“I don’t know. I always liked it.”

Mostly he’d liked the way it moved. The bounce was sassy, like her.

Howard walked up to their table. “I know what you want, Toby. What about you, Reggie? The special tonight is a pomegranate martini. Basically it’s a cosmo but with pomegranate juice instead of cranberry juice.”

“That’s for me,” she said, smiling at Howard.

He nodded and left.

“What do you always get?” she asked.

“A beer.”

“And he doesn’t mind?”

Toby wasn’t sure how to explain without causing her to lose her easy smile.

“He knew my dad, so the first time I came here and said I only drink beer, he didn’t push me.”

As he’d expected, her mouth straightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a difficult topic.”

“You didn’t. My father was an alcoholic. Everyone knew it. I don’t know how much of the disease is genetic and how much of it is just bad luck. Either way, I’m careful.”

“No hard liquor?”

“Nope. One beer or one glass of wine and that’s it for me.” He consciously relaxed his posture. “It doesn’t bother me to see other people drink, so don’t worry about it. It’s like oysters. I don’t get it, but if you like them, go ahead.”

“I heard your dad stopped drinking a few years before he died,” she said. “I didn’t really know him.”

Something Toby was grateful for, he thought. He’d always kept Reggie away from the house if his father was around. No way he’d wanted her to experience what it was like to be near his old man.