Golf Widow
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Jennifer watched Stavros back his black BMW out of the driveway. It was Thursday afternoon, prime golf time. He had all his golf gear packed up, his set of Titleist clubs, his Nike driver, 20XI balls and a brand new golf glove. He would be gone until dark. She sighed a sigh of relief. Gone were the days when she rode alongside him, being his caddy. "Which iron do you think Kukla?" Kukla was his pet name for her. It meant "doll" in Greek. "The nine or the wedge?" Go for the nine, who cares, she thought. Jennifer could care less about golf, but Stavros was so passionate about it. She could not d...
Jennifer watched Stavros back his black BMW out of the driveway. It was Thursday afternoon, prime golf time. He had all his golf gear packed up, his set of Titleist clubs, his Nike driver, 20XI balls and a brand new golf glove. He would be gone until dark. She sighed a sigh of relief. Gone were the days when she rode alongside him, being his caddy. "Which iron do you think Kukla?" Kukla was his pet name for her. It meant "doll" in Greek. "The nine or the wedge?" Go for the nine, who cares, she thought. Jennifer could care less about golf, but Stavros was so passionate about it. She could not deny him his precious time on the golf course. He was almost fanatical about playing. This was her time, playtime. Maybe she would go shopping. Maybe look for something on sale, another bauble for her healthy closet. She cherished her precious time at the mall. It was the only free time she had to herself. Stavros was so possessive. He needed her in a bad way, an almost childlike urgency for all her attention.
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