Page 23 of Undeniably Perfect

Kent hits a button and the game lights up as he turns it on. I walk over to stand in front of one lane. The balls roll down and I pick one up as the game starts counting down. I only get the twenty points on my first try but after two more, I start getting the hang of hitting the one hundred holes. I look over and curse under my breath as Kent’s score is fifty more than mine.

I see the timer has three seconds left. I grab a ball and release it, holding my breath as it rolls down the lane, bounces, and flies into the one-hundred-point pocket. I scream and jump up and down like a little kid, punching my fists in the air.

Kent laughs.

I stop and turn beet red. “Sorry...I might be a little competitive,” I say with a sheepish smile.

“A little?”

“OK, I’m very, very competitive.” I shrug, but I can’t contain my grin.

“Come on. I’ll show you the backyard.”

Kent

We walk out back, and she stops in her tracks.

“It’s official.”

“What’s official?”

“You're like LifeStyles of the Rich and Famous rich, like MTV cribs rich, like Christian Grey rich,” she announces.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. It’s a pool, not a beach.”

“It might as well be the Taj Mahal. This is legit crazy.”

“I told you, I sort of overspent at first. Thus, the pool house and pool and hot tub and outdoor kitchen.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your parents didn’t yell at you?”

“Yeah, they did but I was a hotheaded twenty-three-year-old who thought he knew everything.”

“I believe it. Don’t get me wrong, this is super nice, but it’s also a lot for one guy. Do you like throw massive parties here or something?”

I shake my head. “Only a few times. Mostly, this is my sanctuary. I own three acres and I like to just be able to get away from it all, you know what I mean?”

“I get it.”

“How about I take you into town? We can get some ice cream and lunch, in that order.”

Chapter Twelve

Tabitha

“Hey, Kent,” says an older man sitting on a bench outside of a barbershop. I almost laugh because the barbershop has one of those spinning tubes with white, red, and blue just like in the movies.

“Hey, Gordy. How’s the missus?” Kent asks.

“Oh, she’s doin’ OK,” he says with a smile. “Good to see you, kiddo. You gonna stop in for a trim?”

“Maybe after playoffs,” Kent says.

The old guy nods, and we continue walking down the street.

“Kent, sweetie, how are you? How’s your mom?” a middle-aged woman asks as she sees us approach.

“Good, Miss Michelle. We’re going over there tomorrow,” he says.

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