With hubby’s departure I set my hair, filed my nails, applied new polish and looked at my trophy rings sitting in my underwear before my bedroom vanity mirror. The bra looked good on me as I mused which ring to wear but closed the case and decided to only wear only my diamond wedding ring, a gold charm necklace and earrings.
I went over my makeup and dabbed on my best perfume. Vixen was humming her ditty; my breasts flush in chorus as I stared at myself. My heart and mind said stay home but I knew I couldn't. They were on remote. The excitement of another man had been put off too long. I wanted my mistress too. The windows of my eyes were darkened. The devil peered out.
I left early for my 10 AM lesson with my husband's encouragement my excuse pass, drove straight to the golf course and parked in front of the pro shop. The rational for my atypical early arrival was I needed to buy gloves and rent clubs. As I drove up I saw his personal golf cart in front of the pro shop then saw him in the shop window watching my arrival.
It was a repeat of driving to Michael’s Restaurant 10 years earlier but in the daylight and without trepidation.
I pretended not to notice him and suspected he was smiling because he was so self-assured I couldn’t resist his charm. I’d prove him wrong. The truth was I couldn’t resist another affair, to meet again my secret friend, the euphoric rush of addiction. My hand was shaking as I put the car keys in my purse, like an addict before the hit. I glanced in the mirror, told myself to calm down, wiped my hands on the seat to dry them and got out slowly while looking down at my shoes as if more worried about their getting dirty than meeting him.
He greeted me holding the entrance door open and held out his hand. When I took it he didn’t shake but instead pulled me brazenly toward him and attempted to kiss my cheek, European style. I pushed him back with my free hand but he still held on and kept smiling despite his rebuke.
Led inside the shop I smiled, turned a cheek for him to peck kiss and disengaged my hand.
“Before we start I need to buy a pair of gloves. They may help my grip.”
My cheek was aglow where his lips touched. Blocking my path he instead asked.
“Are you ready for your lesson?”
“Yes, yes but I need gloves. You better be a good teacher, I’m hopeless.”
“I’m a master, they call me Professor Golf.”