Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 12
course, where they unloaded their clubs. There was a wait while a foursome teed off before them.
âLetâs give them a good head start,â Rawls said. He looked down at Stoneâs loafers. âWhat kind of golf shoes are those?â
âOh, Dickâs were too small, and I didnât have any of my own. Iâll have to send for some, I guess.â
Stone looked around; there were no carts. âWe going to walk?â he asked.
âOh, sure; itâs how I get my exercise.â
They teed off, and Rawls set a rapid pace down the fairway. Stone followed as best he could, but his loafers were not built for this.
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TWO HOURS LATER they sat at a table at the Tarrantine Yacht Club, which was a modest building with a big dock and a lot of moorings, waiting for cheeseburgers. Stone took off his ruined loafers, which were soaking wet after a few tramps through the rough, and rubbed his feet.
âYou gotta get some better shoes,â Rawls said, sipping his Coke.
âTell me about it.â He had to replace the loafers, too. It had been an expensive round of golf.
âWhat did you shoot, finally?â Rawls asked.
âDonât ask.â
âHowâm I going to play you for money, if you wonât tell me your score?â
âAll right, I shot a fifty-two. How about you?â
âForty, a little off my handicap.â
âWhich isâ¦?â
âSix.â
âJesus, Ed, how the hell are you playing to that kind of handicap at your age?â
âI practice a lot. Thereâs fuck-all else to do around here, if you donât sail or play tennis. Whatâs your handicap?â
âI donât know, probably around twenty-five.â
âYou need to practice more.â
âWell, if I spend enough time up here, I might do that. Golf is tough when you live in the city. I have a place in Connecticut, and I belong to a club there, but I donât get up there often enough.â
âYou going to be spending any time around here?â
âMaybe. Dick left me his house.â
âNo kidding? Thatâs a very tidy inheritance. You know what that place is worth?â
âI get to use it, and so do my heirs, but if itâs sold, the proceeds go to the Samuel Bernard Foundation.â
âYou know what that is?â
âYes. Bernard was a mentor of mine in law school.â
âIâm surprised he didnât recruit you.â
âHe tried to, but I didnât know it at the time. It was many years later he told me he thought I might not have been suited for the life. Lance signed me as a consultant, though.â
âThat speaks well of you; Lance is a good judge of talent.â
Stone shrugged.
âWell, if youâre going to be spending some time here, weâd better get you in the yacht club and the golf club. Iâll work with you, and weâll bring your handicap down.â Rawls raised a hand and waved over two men who were standing in line for hamburgers. He introduced both men.
âI hear youâre Dick Stoneâs cousin,â one of them said.
âThatâs right.â
âHow does that work? I thought I knew all of Dickâs family.â
âHis father and my mother were brother and sister. I grew up in New York.â
âThis your first time in Islesboro?â the other asked.
âNo, I spent a summer up here with Dickâs family when I was eighteen.â
âHey, I remember you,â the man said, laughing. âYouâre the kid who knocked Caleb Stone on his ass.â
âI remember that, too,â the other man said. âIt was the talk of the club for a week. Why did you never come back?â
âCalebâs mother didnât take the news as well as everybody else did. After that, I was persona non grata.â
âWelcome back,â the man said, then they excused themselves and went to get their food.
âWell done,â Rawls said.
âWell done what?â
âThe tall guy was the commodore, and the other was the chairman of the membership committee. The commodore is on the golf club board, too. Iâll get forms and propose you today.â
âYou think the business with Caleb will hurt?â
âAre you kidding? Everybody hated that kid; judging from their reaction, you were a hero.â
Stone glanced toward the door and nearly dropped his Coke. A ghost from his past had just walked in the
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