Not that summer but the following, Abe was given tickets to the LPGA tournament playing at the course where he was an assistant golf pro. We walked the course and stopped for his favorite players as he told me about them.
We were crossing from one hole to another when Abe saw a fellow assistant from another club. He said he wanted to introduce me, and Abe called out to his friend, who joined us with his date.
“Jim, I want you to meet my wife Birdie. Birdie, this is Jim Sawyer from Heron Creek.”
Jim extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Birdie. This is Tiffany.”
She stood there with her eyes as big as saucers. I gave her my Cheshire smile. “Hello, Tiffany.”
She mumbled a hello.
The guys exchanged a few pleasantries and we parted company. I spoke to Abe as we walked.
“How old would you guess Jim is?”
“I don’t know. Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Why?”
“Tell your friend his date is fourteen.”
Abe snorted. “Oh, please. Right.”
“Remember the story I told you of the girl who was caught shoplifting at Disney? That’s Tiffany.”
“I’ll be right back.” Abe took off at a trot.
He caught up with Jim in the distance and motioned him over to speak privately. I didn’t have to hear to know what transpired. I have no idea what happened after that. Abe and I went on to enjoy the tournament.
Tiffany was about ten years younger than I, and that was a long time ago. I wonder where she is now.