KICK IT | JENLISA

69

Jennie

"Nice to put a face to the woman my wife sings praises for." Recognition lit up his eyes and his hand tightened around mine. "You've done wonders for Yuh-jung's health. She's hard to impress."

The too-familiar sensation of not knowing someone as well as I thought resurfaced. Exhibit A, my plus-one was now a plus-statue who gaped at Gary. Interest shone in Yuh-jung's eyes, and an untrustworthy smile pulled her lips wider. What was I missing? "Yuh-jung is a pleasure in class. Not because she's the only one not hitting on my partner."

The sun beat harder on the tips of my ears, and my eyes widened. "Uhh, my golf partner."

"I enjoy my Lisa entertainment." Yuh-jung winked before her smile faded. "I'll miss Lisa when she's not in class anymore."

Her words twisted... not a knife, but a dull ache in my chest. Maybe a spoon. Lisa's rehab, like her time with me, was finite. I should've been relieved and ecstatic about her upcoming expiration date, but I wasn't. Figured I would stop seeing her once she became tolerable.

"Yuh-jung Youn?" Statue Lisa spoke with absolute shock in her voice. "You're Yuh-jung Youn?"

She nodded. "I'm Yuh-jung Youn."

My eyes volleyed between them with a silent plea for dot connection. Gary was no help. "And she's told me what a journey you've been taking, Lisa. Glad you're taking the shoulder recovery so seriously."

All life drained from Lisa's face. Her nod was so stiff, I was surprised the back of her neck didn't crack. "I am, Sir."

Sir?

"Work talk later, Mister." Yuh-jung booped Gary's nose, then pointed at a now empty tee-off green. "We're up next, so tee off or eat my turf."

As they set up, statue-Lisa's hand clasped my elbow. A hoarse whisper fanned hot into my ear, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me she's Yuh-jung Youn?"

"Because I'm lucky I remember first names." I yanked my arm free. "So? Yuh-jung is a sweet woman."

"She's..." After a shrill whistle, Yuh-jung removed two fingers from her mouth. Gary sat in their cart with one foot hovered over the gas pedal. Lisa's hand nudged my lower back. "Talk later."

With clenched teeth, I lined up my drive and dipped my chin. Hole one was a straight, narrow fairway lined with trees. Armpits over the balls of your feet, Jennie. The sun seared the back of my neck. I hinged over, melting the tension in my shoulders with an expanded breath. Drawing up my arms, my spine spring-coiled energy.

With a twist, my hands arched in a sweeping downward swing. The open-air breeze relaxed my arms. The head of my club swooped down and flexed over my left shoulder as I rotated.