Mart strode into the Wheeler stables hoping to find Trixie there. But she had already groomed her horse and cleaned her tack. There was no sign of her in the stable.

"Where’d she go," he wondered, looking around.

"If you’re looking for Trixie," responded Regan, "she took care of Susie and then hurried home. I think Tad was waiting for her."

Mart turned abruptly and headed for the farm. He was determined to find out what was up between his sister and his friend. As he approached Crabapple Farm, he could see the two sitting on the terrace, talking and sipping drinks. Ducking quickly, he crawled on his stomach to the terrace wall. He stayed close to the ground and listened intently to their ongoing conversation.

"Was I really okay," he heard Trixie ask Tad.

"Yea, you were very good," replied Tad.

"But it felt awkward. I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. Should I have had a tight grip on the shaft or a loose one?" Trixie asked.

Mart’s eyes grew wide.

"A firm grip is all that is needed," Tad answered.

"What about my legs?" Trixie went on. "Were they too far apart?"

"Nope," Mart heard Tad reply, "They were fine. "

"What else?" Trixie asked

"Well," said Tad after a slight pause, "you need to keep your head down. Don’t look up."

There was a silence between the two. Then Mart heard Trixie say,

"I wish I weren’t so reluctant to go down and get it."

"Trixie, you won’t hurt anything. Just go for it," Tad encouraged.

Mart had heard enough. Popping up from his hiding place, he scrambled over the wall and stood directly in front of the two.

"Alright, Webster. I think it's high time you left," he ordered.

"Were you snooping on us?" Trixie demanded angrily.

"That’s not important. Leave Webster."

Tad and Trixie stared at each other, confused by Mart’s behavior.

Mart yelled again, "I heard what you said to my sister. Now leave!"

"Mart, we were discussing my golf lesson," explained Trixie.

Mart stared at the two. "Right, golf," he sneered

"Yes, golf," insisted Tad.

Mart eyed the two. "What about gripping the shaft?" he questioned.

"That’s the handle of the club," Trixie pointed out

Mart stood silently as he replayed the conversation in his mind.

"Oh yea, well, what are you afraid to go down and get?" he asked.

"The ball, Mart," Trixie sighed. "I hate to tear up the greens when I have to hit."

Mart looked down at the ground, embarrassment growing on his face. He offered a meek apology and quickly fled into the house.

Trixie and Tad looked at each other and burst out laughing. Their laughter echoed across the farm as the door slammed behind Mart.