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The postcard was sitting on the corner of the desk under a paper products catalog for a few days before David noticed it.
“Elmdale Valley Entrepreneurs Golf Outing” David said quietly to himself as he flipped the card over in his hand.
Patrick came through the curtain with an empty box, his mid-afternoon restock done before they were going to sit down for lunch.
“Were you saving this for something?” David waved the card at Patrick as he broke down the box and placed it with the rest of their recycling.
Patrick walked back over to the desk to see what David had before his eyes widened in recognition. “Ah, yeah the golf outing. When I was at that reorganizational meeting, Ricky the guy I was sitting next to mentioned it. They used to do it years ago before the entrepreneurs group went on hiatus and it was their biggest event of the year. Sort of combined a fundraiser and social/networking event.”
“It sounds very ‘old men in ill fitting khakis smoking cigars and laughing at the less fortunate’ to me.” David scowled. He felt like while the greater Schitt’s Creek area was accepting, he remembered some of the so-called gentlemen that his father played with back in the days of the Rose Video empire.
“No, no. Everyone I met at that meeting would be someone I’d want us to hang out with. No one batted an eye when I said I owned a business with my husband. It was definitely a diverse crowd. And look, the fundraising for this year is going to the homeless shelter in Elmglen which specifically has a division that helps LGBTQ+ kids.” Patrick pointed out the bottom of the postcard to David.
“Hmmm, one problem though.” David mumbled as he shoveled a forkful of pasta salad in his mouth.
“What’s that?”
“You don’t golf.”
“But I do.”
“Since when?”
“Since I was a teenager?”
“Still learning things about each other after over two years of marriage, wow.”
“Well, I haven’t played in a long time. My dad and I did before he hurt his shoulder and then some of my buddies from college would use it to meet up. I just ended up moving away, finding the man of the dreams, and was a little too busy with marrying him, buying a house, and making our business a continued success, you know, other stuff, to keep playing.” Patrick teased.
“I am sorry all of this kept you from your burgeoning golf career.” David waved his fork around gesturing to the store and himself with a slight grin.
“Ricky said no one was ever very good, but it gets them outside in the summer and the golf course discounts the greens fees and carts pretty heavily.”
“Well, you better get the bats out and practice. Wait, do you actually have a golf bat?”
“Clubs…”
“Same difference!”
⛳⛳⛳
A week later, David came home from his solo shift closing the store to an empty house. The table was set, but there was no sign of Patrick anywhere. It wasn’t until he looked out the back window that he saw his husband in those tragic looking jorts playing golf into a large and ugly net as the sun was starting to set. The golf event wasn’t for over a month, but David did have to appreciate how tight the denim was on Patrick’s ass after he swung.
“Have you knocked one out of the park yet?” David called as he shut the screen door.
Patrick turned around, a grin took over his face as he let the club slide down in his hand as he leaned against it at a 45 degree angle like a cane.
“I didn’t even realize you had an assemblage of clubs.” David gestured his hand towards the golf bag propped up to the side as he stepped down the stairs.
“You are your mother’s son, aren’t you?” Patrick said as he closed in on a short kiss to David’s lips. “They were in Ray’s storage shed. I honestly forgot about them when I moved to the apartment and Ray apparently never noticed them. I went and got them last week.”
David looked over at Patrick’s golf bag and the variety of clubs. “Why are there so many different ones, anyway? I mean, even in baseball you just use one bat.”
“Well, you use different ones depending on what sort of shot you need to make. Some have different angles to lift the ball. Some are more for distance down the green. Others for hitting it short or out of a hazard.” Patrick realized that David’s eyes were glazing over.
“David, it’s sort of like when we go on vacation and you have to pack an outfit and shoes for just about every possible event or activity, does that make sense?”
A thoughtful look came over David’s face “I mean, you never know when you are going to need leather or your best knits, even on the beach. So yes, that makes sense. But can we go have dinner now? I am starving.”
“Yes, let’s go. I’ll clean this up after we eat.” Patrick slid the 5-iron back into his bag before grabbing David’s hand as they headed towards the kitchen.
🏌️🏌️🏌️
Sunday arrived and David found himself alone in bed. The windows open, he could hear the gentle hum of music and a “clink” sound every 15 seconds or so. Ambling up, he peeked out the back window to see Patrick on the deck with some green carpet thing, a cup of tea sitting on the patio table, and the mellow sounds of a Sunday folk rock program playing on Patrick’s little battery power radio he used when he was working outside.
David quickly used the bathroom and threw on a pair of cozy cotton joggers and a t-shirt. After he made it downstairs, his favorite mug was sitting in front of a warming pot of coffee. He made himself a cup, put on his slides, and stood at the back door watching.
Patrick had his back to the door, holding the club as he stood on the ugly plastic grass. Patrick wiggled his hips, which David greatly appreciated as he took a sip, and drew back the club to knock the ball towards a hole in the end. The ball went to the right and rolled onto the deck, hitting the old patio cushion Patrick had set up as a backstop.
David swung the door open as Patrick was picking up another ball. “Good morning.”
“Hey there, handsome.” Patrick stopped to gently kiss David, tasting the familiar sweet warmth off his lips, thanks to his beverage of choice. David walked towards the far side of the small deck and curled up on a patio chair that faced the house and Patrick.
Patrick continued practicing a few more shots with varied success as David gradually continued to come to full consciousness. After finally sinking a putt, he leaned the club against the house and came to sit with David and enjoy the rest of his tea.
“Good job scoring, honey” David said.
‘Heh, thanks. I am still pretty rusty though. I am going to the driving range I think later if that is ok.”
“I know there are motorized carts,” David questioned “but does your maneuvering of them actually help you score points?”
Patrick chuckled again and stared at his husband. “You are something else, David Rose. The driving range is like just a giant field with tee boxes all lined up like stalls where you can practice your golf swings, kind of like I was with the net that I borrowed from Roland. The main club you hit with first is called a driver as you are trying to drive the ball as far as you can up the fairway to start. Luckily, driving the carts is just a bonus activity.”
“Wow, I am learning so much. Maybe I should try this portion.” David set his coffee mug down, wanting to escape the slight embarrassment over his cart knowledge and feeling a little brave before he was fully awake. He stood up to stretch his long body, and walked over to grab the putter.
“Uh sure. Have you ever held a golf club before?” Patrick turned his chair to watch David.
“I mean, the drinks were pretty strong, but I remember being the only one for a $50,000 bet that could hit a golf ball through one of the ‘O’s of the Hollywood sign at Paris Hilton’s 20th birthday American after party before the flight to the Tokyo after party. I think that was golf, or were we in Tokyo first?” David contemplated as he grabbed a ball from a small bucket and placed it on the putting green.
Patrick just looked at his husband and chuckled silently. “Okay, David. Just let me know if you need any help.”
David wrapped his long fingers around the grip, stacking his hands precisely as if he had done it thousands of times. Overemphasizing the shimmy of his lower body with a little smirk since he knew Patrick was watching him, he glanced to the hole in the putting mat and then back down to the ball. He carefully pulled back the club and brought it forward to hit the ball. It precisely rolled straight as an arrow down the lumpy mat and right into the hole.
“Wow, babe. Nice shot.” Patrick said as he finished off his tea.
Looking up at Patrick, David shrugged his shoulders. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
David decided to try again. He leaned on the putter to place another ball a little more towards the right of the mat. Settling his waist, his eyes laser focused going from the hole to the ball, he swung the putter back and Patrick’s jaw dropped slightly as David once again sunk a perfect putt. Quickly placing another ball in a different spot, he followed the same procedure with the repeated accurate result.
“David, that is a little more than beginner’s luck. You have such a smooth stroke.”
“I think that is the same thing you moaned into your pillow last night. Maybe I have found my new career path.” David smooshed his lips to one side, his eyes twinkling at his husband.
Patrick jumped up and wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “Ok, funny guy. We’re not ready for you to run off and win the Masters Tournament quite yet.”, kissing the hinge of David’s jaw.
“That sounds more like something you should be competing in, Sir .” David winked at Patrick as he leaned the putter back against the house. He gave Patrick a knowing look over his shoulder as he opened the patio door and strutted inside.
Patrick grabbed the door before it swung shut and caught up to David as they raced back upstairs.
⛳⛳⛳
Later as they were tangled up in their sheets, Patrick ran his hand up and down David’s back while their breathing returned to normal. “I think I still want to go to the driving range later.”
David turned his head to place his chin on Patrick’s chest, looking up at his husband. “I could go with you, if you want. I mean, maybe I can try to use the other clubs? Or just come and hang and watch you. Pack some snacks.”
“That would be fun. And of course you can try. Let’s make an afternoon of it.” Patrick ran his hand through David’s adorably rumpled hair.
Both men unraveled themselves from each other and the comforter to head off to the shower together. Patrick quickly washed up and left David with a kiss to finish his Sunday deep conditioning and exfoliation. Drying off in the bedroom, he got dressed in a fitted cotton t-shirt and shorts. As he was putting on his socks and sneakers, he realized he didn’t have any golf shoes for David. They could share clubs, but any shoes David had would not work even on the range and they didn’t even wear the same size.
Sticking his head back in the bathroom, he found David with a towel around his waist, waving his hands in front of his face to help his current step of skin care dry in the humid bathroom.
“Didn’t your dad leave some stuff at the motel they couldn’t take and still have never sent for? I feel like I have seen golf clubs there. Maybe there is some stuff we can use, namely golf shoes. I think you both have around the same shoe size.”
“I know there are belongings of theirs, but I have zero idea of what. If his clubs are there, maybe I can use them! I don’t want to hog yours.”
“That would be nice, but your dad is a lefty, so no can do. I mean, unless you are even more of a versatile switch hitter than you let on.” Patrick wrapped his towel around his hands and snapped it jokingly at David.
‘Ok, I call a moratorium on golf double entendres, unless they are by me!” David yelled. Patrick’s guffaw echoed through the bedroom as he left David to finish getting ready.
🏌️🏌️🏌️
Armed with a cooler tote filled with lemonade, fruity canned vodka drinks, chips, and some quickly assembled sandwiches, David and Patrick headed towards the motel. After texting with Johnny, David confirmed he did leave his golf items behind, which included shoes and offered anything up to the “boys”. The many question marks he typed when David mentioned he was the one needing the shoes would just have to be answered later.
Patrick and David had been given a spare set of Rosebud Motel keys in case of a Roland-catastrophe when Mr. and Mrs. Rose left, so they sorted through the utility room storage to find the shoes and many other strange Rose family items. David tried to school his face when he saw the golf shoes, his sartorial opinions softened only slightly after so many years in Schitt’s Creek. He was just going to be thankful that they were black and white at this point. They would work fine with the calf-length cropped pants and long sleeved graffiti-styled t-shirt he had picked out for today.
The driving range was tucked in between farms and greenhouses halfway to Elmcreek. They set up at the end of the range, chairs and coolers and clubs in tow. David was a little antsy to try swinging the other clubs, already deciding that he could block out the experience if it went south with the multitude of beverages they brought with them.
“I mean, I was the baseball VIP that one time, how different could it be?” David tried to reassure himself. He wanted to visualize things, so he asked Patrick to demonstrate. Patrick, without a ton of explanation went through some drives to warm up, and some shorter strikes with the irons. David was already an expert at studying his husband’s body, so he tried to carefully absorb all the movements necessary, seeing that it was a little more athletic than the putting had been.
After daydreaming a bit, the silence was broken when Patrick stated “Ok, your turn!” and pointed the driver at him. Scrambling up from his chair, David flexed his hands before taking the club. Patrick had already placed a ball on the tee for him, and stood back out of David’s range of sight. David’s mimicked Patrick’s stance, standing further back from the ball to make some minute practice swings. His long arms flexed as he tried to see their movement around his body in his mind.
Shuffling forward, David placed the head of the driver behind the ball. Taking a cleansing breath, grateful that no one else was near them to witness this, David pulled his arms back, angling the club as Patrick had. He twisted his hips from side to side, pulling from his years of modeling to coordinate his upper and lower half of his body into working together as independent parts. The real goal though was mental, knowing that this was just for fun, that Patrick was content in spending their day off together regardless of what they were doing, and that after nearly 40 years on earth, he was finally more comfortable in his body and how it moved through life.
The driver sliced through the air and hit the ball with a satisfying ping. David’s arms followed through and he enjoyed the stretch as the club looped all the way around his body. Covering his forehead with one hand, David’s eyes search ahead, trying to see the ball. He wondered if it had gone off into the woods to the side or just plunked 50 feet ahead.
“David...” Patrick said reverently, with a tinge of amusement.
Turning around to face Patrick, David tried to calculate what he did to cause such a reaction.
“You just hit that 250 yards, dead center”
“Oh, is that good?”
⛳⛳⛳
In the end, they remembered that afternoon for the laughs spent in the shade, eating turkey sandwiches while they passionately argued over the best flavors of White Claw. Patrick took David to the Elmglen municipal course the following Sunday and watched David lean on his years of precisely angling lights, windows, canvases, and art installations just so as he meditated on how to get that little ball towards that little hole most efficiently.
Patrick contacted the organizers and asked for their Rose Apothecary team to be a two-some now. When the day of the golf outing arrived, David stepped out of the bedroom wearing fitted white pants and a black polo with white stars around the collar. It was one Patrick had never seen before, but it reminded him of a certain leather sweater and David’s body moving in different ways for their relationship just a few years before.
Patrick handed David a recommended club for each shot and kept score as “the numbers guy”. David reapplied sunscreen to Patrick’s neck and rubbed Patrick’s shoulder when he got an unfortunate triple bogey.
David was still an unbelievably good shot for a beginner. Patrick only wallowed for a minute that David was consistently scoring lower before David pulled him behind a maintenance shed before the back 9, kissed him soundly, and promised an exciting “après golf” evening when they got home.
David and Patrick were paired up with Ricky and his wife Marie who owned an antique shop in Elmfalls. By the end of the day, they had made an agreement to showcase each other’s products in their stores and had plans for a double date. They were introduced to many others and ran out of the business cards that David had painstakingly handwritten a coupon on the back of to encourage patronage in person or online.
David ended up next to the head of support services for the homeless shelter in the lunch buffet line, and in that time exchanged numbers so they could support their other LGBTQ+ teen initiatives.
Patrick waited by the exit as David went to check the raffle table results before they left. He shook his head as David approached, carrying the Rose Apothecary basket they had donated. “Can you blame me, it was the best prize there!” David exclaimed.
Grabbing David’s free hand, Patrick hummed as they made their way back to the car. Who knows if David would ever golf with him again, but he was grateful for the days they had leading up to this, seeing David experience something different. David wasn’t ready to commit to a course membership, but maybe he could get Roland to sell him that backyard net. Feeling the relaxed soreness of his body and fulfilled spirit with lots of ideas bouncing around from the conversations held with others, David smiled at Patrick, thinking of what else they could discover together in the years to come.