“You know that’s not what I’m doing.”
“But that’s how it feels.”
“We obviously have a lot to talk about. We’ll figure this all out, sweetie, I promise, but I have to run. I’m meeting Will at Dan Tana’s. It’s our anniversary tonight.”
Charlie looked up. “It is? I didn’t even know he was out here with you.”
“Yes, it was a good excuse to steal a long weekend away. We both fly back to Florida tomorrow.”
“Well, wish him a happy anniversary for me.”
“Everything’s going to be fine, Charlie. Not fine—great. You’re doing a stupendous job with the rehab here, you really are. I’ll be back in three weeks to check in on you, and in the meantime, I’ll be prepping everything behind the scenes to get you all set for Australia in January. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Charlie said, although their talk had made her feel queasy and cold all over.
They each leaned forward and Charlie kissed Marcy’s cheek. “Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Charlie watched as Marcy walked to the door and let herself out. She took a quick shower and then pulled on jean shorts and a tank top. After checking to make sure she was alone in the locker room, she dialed Jake’s number.
When he picked up, she heard the rumble of people talking in the background. “Where are you?” she asked.
“One guess.”
“Are you stalking that instructor again? What was his name? Something ridiculous. Herman?”
“Nelson. And if would take just one class with him, you’d be converted forever.”
“You know how I feel about spinning. And that one class you dragged me to at SoulCycle almost killed me.”
“You’re a professional athlete, Charlie. It’s a bunch of Wall Street guys who drink too much and moms who don’t eat enough. You were fine.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. But listen, do you have a second?”
Charlie listened as Jake high-fived someone and then called out a good-bye, and she pictured him wrapping a towel around his neck and ducking out onto the busy New York sidewalk.
“Okay, I’m all yours. What’s up?” He was still out of breath, and she shuddered, wondering if he’d done back-to-back classes.
“You remember how you told me that Todd Feltner was retiring? When was that? Two months ago?”
“Yeah, about that. He announced it right before Wimbledon. Said he’s done everything he’s wanted to do, so he was going to take some time off before figuring out his next step. Why?”
“Because I want to be his next step.” Charlie surprised herself with the confidence she heard.
“Come again?”
“I want to hire Todd Feltner, and I want you to help me make it happen.”
Her statement was followed by silence, and it took Charlie every bit of restraint not to rush to fill that silence.
“Charlie? You want to tell me what’s going on here?” There was a twinge of concern, if not outright panic, in Jake’s voice. He wasn’t only her brother, he was her manager, and there was no more significant decision in a professional tennis player’s life than who would coach her.
“Look, I have to meet Dad soon, so I don’t have time to explain everything. But suffice it to say that I’ve been having doubts about Marcy for some time now. And today those doubts crystallized. Do you know what she said to me?”
“Tell me.”
“She asked what my Plan B was for when my Achilles’ doesn’t heal and I can’t play ever again.”
“Why would she say that? Dr. Cohen has every expectation that it’s going to heal completely. Does she know something I don’t?”
“No, not at all. She was just what-iffing. Over and over again. She was almost insistent. I don’t have to tell you what that does to my mental game, do I?”
Jake’s silence confirmed he understood.
“I have been supportive when she’s expressed that she doesn’t want to travel so much anymore because of the fertility treatments. It’s not easy for me or best for my career that she’s not at all the smaller tournaments, but of course I understand why she needs more time right now. I have tried not to blame her for the fall at Wimbledon, but you and I both know that it was her responsibility to make sure my shoes were cleared for play ahead of time. The fact that I was forced to wear someone else’s sneakers is insane. And look what happened.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jake said. Charlie could tell he was listening very closely.
“But the one thing I can’t live with is the doubt. Breaking my wrist, blowing out my Achilles’, and being forced to leave the tour for six months is hard enough. It sucks beyond description. But having my own coach wondering if I’m ever going to recover enough to play again? To insist we talk about what happens if I don’t heal? I can’t get past that.”
“I hear you,” Jake said. “I really do.”
“That doubt is poison. Every time I look at her from now on, I’m going to know she doesn’t think I can do it. Maybe there is a chance I won’t recover, won’t ever play again at the elite level. But I sure can’t afford to be thinking that. Not now. And my coach can’t either. I love Marcy, you know I do. She’s been like a mom to me all these years. But I’m almost twenty-five, Jake. Hardly ancient, but running out of time if I really want to achieve something here. And I do. Want to achieve something. I know I can’t play forever—and I don’t necessarily want to—but I want all the years of sacrifice and hard work to pay off. I want to win a Slam, and it’s becoming clearer every day that Marcy is not going to be the one to take me there.”
“I don’t disagree with you,” he said quietly. “But Feltner? You really want to go down that road?”
“I know he’s supposed to be a jerk of epic proportions. I’ve heard all the stories. But he’s the best, hands down. And I want the best.”
“He’s never coached a woman before.”
“So maybe he’s never met the right woman! You were the one who told me he’s bored in retirement. He’s so young! What’s he doing, sitting around Palm Beach all day working on his tan? Can you get him on the phone for me? I just need five minutes, and I’m going to convince him that he should work for me.”
“Of course I can get him on the phone, but I think the chances of him accepting are slim. And I don’t imagine that having Todd Feltner as your coach is all kittens and sunshine, Charlie. I support you a hundred percent—if you want him,, I’ll do anything I can to help get him—but please don’t delude yourself into thinking that he’s some sort of dreamy, unicorn ride to the top of the rankings. He’s a killer, plain and simple.”
Charlie smiled. “So I’ve heard. Get us in touch, okay? I love Marcy with all my heart, but I have to do what’s best for my career. I want him to be my killer.”
3
not even the good stuff
BIRCHWOOD GOLF AND RACKET CLUB
AUGUST 2015
Charlie popped two Aleves, dashed in and out of the shower, and threw on a cotton sundress. She twisted her wet hair into a bun and hobbled as quickly as she could manage to her Jeep. It would take at least fifteen minutes to drive to Birchwood, and she was supposed to be meeting her father at that very moment. She barked out a quick voice text apologizing and saying she was on her way, and threw the car into gear. As soon as she pulled out of the parking lot, her phone rang. Figuring it was Jake calling her back, Charlie hit “talk” on her steering wheel without checking the number. A strange man’s voice boomed through the car’s speakers.
“Charlotte? Charlotte Silver?”
“This is she. May I ask who is calling, please?” Way to sound like a nine-year-old, she thought. It was the phrasing her mother had insisted upon every time she answered the family’s phone.
“Charlotte, this is Todd Feltner.” Cha
rlie was stunned into silence. She’d told Jake minutes earlier that she wanted to talk to Todd and figured it would be days, if not weeks, before it actually happened.
“Hello, Mr. Feltner. Thanks so much for getting in touch. Jake said you might possibly be—”
“I heard you’re freshly out of surgery.”
Charlie was thrilled he called, and she tried not to think about how abrasive he sounded after only ten seconds.
“Yes. I still have months to go before I’m ready to play again, but I’m getting there. I’m actually leaving rehab as we speak.”
“Why?”
Charlie actually glanced at her phone, resting on the passenger seat beside her, as though it might reveal something about Todd’s strange call. “Why? What do you mean?”
“Why are you bothering to rehab it? Maybe I’m confused, but I heard from your brother that you popped your Achilles’. I had a player in the early nineties with that exact same injury, and he never recovered from it. And he didn’t also have a wrist injury, which I understand you do?”
The nerve! If it had been anyone else on the line, Charlie would have calmly told him it was none of his business and disconnected the call. But she couldn’t get past the fact that Todd was a living legend: more total Grand Slam wins for his players than any other coach; more players ranked number one; a reputation for bringing players back from injury, addiction, mental breakdowns, and even chemo to play better than ever. If men’s tennis had a celebrity, a magician, and a guru all rolled into one, it was Todd Feltner.
Charlie cleared her throat. “I did have an uncomplicated wrist fracture, yes. But thankfully it was my left wrist. They expect it to heal entirely and not affect my backhand at all. The cast is nearly off.”
“You have a beautiful one-handed backhand,” Todd said. “Clean and powerful, every bit as good as your forehand. Rare for a woman. Rare for anyone, actually.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said, feeling herself well with pride. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“Which is why it’s such a shame you’ll probably have to give it up. Not completely, mind you, but certainly at the highest echelon of competition. You may get those bones and tendons all fixed up by the best orthopedist money can buy, but mentally it’s going to fuck you up. I’ve seen it so many times before.”
“I don’t know why you’d say that,” Charlie said, choosing her words carefully. “You coached Nadal after that devastating knee injury and he went on to win the US Open. One year later!”
“Are you comparing yourself to Rafael Nadal?”
Charlie could feel her face redden. “No, of course not. But you of all people know that players recover from injuries all the time, and they come back to play their best tennis ever. I know it’ll be challenging, but it’s not impossible. And I’m willing to work for it.”
Charlie checked her mirrors and merged onto the highway. She could feel her own heart racing faster. Who did he think he was, calling her like that just to tell her that she was destined to fail? But more than that, did it mean it was true? If both Marcy and Todd Feltner thought she’d never come back from this injury, was she fooling herself to think she could do it?
Todd cleared his gravelly throat. “Well, just some friendly advice from someone who knows: save yourself the heartbreak and think about retiring early. You’ll go out gracefully, at your peak. What were you ranked pre-injury? Twenty-two? Twenty-five? That’s damn good, better than most players can even dream. Bow out now, take good care of your injuries, and you’ll be able to play nonprofessionally for the rest of your life. Hell, you may even get to have a family if you call it quits now. Not many of the other girls can say the same thing.”
Charlie gripped the steering wheel in her now-sweaty hand and promptly forgot all about Todd Feltner’s qualifications and accomplishments. Jake was right: this was not going to work. She kept her voice calm and steady as she said, “Now you listen here, Mr. Feltner. I don’t know why you’re saying such awful things to me, but let me make something very clear: I will come back from this injury. I will get back into the top ten. I will win a Grand Slam. I even think I can be number one. Do you want to know why? Because I’m not a quitter like that big baby you once coached, Mr. Feltner. I did not leave high school every day at noon to train for six hours and do my homework by the light of the glove compartment on the way home from tournaments to give up. I didn’t miss movies and trips and proms and hanging at the mall and sleeping in and getting drunk and kissing boys to play round-robins at my local country club. And speaking of country clubs, I didn’t ask my father to work day and night teaching rich middle-aged women and spoiled kids and rude bankers so I could bail the first time something got a little challenging. And I sure didn’t leave UCLA—the best year of my life—to quit. So while I have incredible respect for what you’ve accomplished in our profession, and I was planning to ask if you would consider coaching me, I will kindly ask that from now on you keep your opinions to yourself. I’m sorry if I wasted your time, Mr. Feltner, but I made a big mistake. You and I are clearly not a good fit.”
“Charlotte? Don’t hang up.” Todd’s tone was firm but she could hear it was conciliatory, too.
“I’ve said all there is to say.”
“I haven’t. Let’s just say that you’ve convinced me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m sold. On coaching you. I was worried you didn’t have the fire to back up those gorgeous strokes and that pretty face, but I can see now that you do. I’m yours.”
Charlie was stunned into silence. Todd Feltner wanted to coach her? None of this made sense.
“And call me Todd, for chrissake. You want it badly, and only I can give it to you. You know it, and I know it. We should meet in person to finalize details, and I’ll actually be flying through SoCal next week on my way to Hawaii, so I’ll have my secretary call to set it up. Good talk, Silver. We’re going to kick some ass together.”
The phone disconnected. Charlie was so shocked she had to slam on the brakes to keep from rear-ending the car in front of her. She drove like a grandma in the far right lane for a mile or so before she voice-prompted the Bluetooth to call Jake’s cell.
“You are not going to believe who I just spoke to,” she said without saying hello. She could tell from the ambient street noise that Jake was walking to the subway from SoulCycle, where he’d take the 1 train up to Harlem, change and shave, and head into the office. “Hmm, let me think about it. Can’t possibly be Feltner himself, considering I got off the phone with him four minutes ago and he said he was calling you right away.”
“You didn’t even warn me!”
“When Todd Feltner agrees to call someone right away, I’m not going to be the one to ask him to hold on while you and I have a little powwow about it. You sounded pretty damn sure this was the right choice when we hung up ten minutes ago. How did it go?”
“He said he would coach me.” Charlie barely believed the words as she said them.
“He what?”
“Coach me. Todd Feltner said I convinced him, that I had the fire or what it takes, or something like that. I can’t remember exactly, but he was a complete dickhead and then I sort of told him off—politely, of course—and then he said he was convinced.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“Are you really so surprised? I’m almost offended.”
“Charlie, are you sure that’s what he said? Are you sure it’s what you want? I mean, I can see the appeal, I really can, but this guy is no joke.”
The truth was, Charlie had been taken aback by Todd’s harsh tactics and abrasive manner. He was clearly the very opposite of Marcy, whose quiet calmness was something that had reassured Charlie for nearly a decade. But she was ready for a change. No, it was even more than that—she needed it.
“I’m not going to lie, Jake, he sounds like an animal. And of course I’m goin
g to take some time to weigh it, but I think this is one of those opportunities that can truly change my life. This might even be the opportunity. We can’t be so blind that we can’t see the big picture here. The way I see it, I have possibly just been given a chance to go from good to great. From a winner to a champion. Do you care if I’m a champion? No. Does Dad? Of course not. I know you’d both love me if I wanted to retire tomorrow and become a hairdresser. But I care, Jake. More than I can even explain. This might be my shot, and I’m wondering if I’d be insane not to take it.”
“He is the absolute best,” Jake said quietly.
“He’s even better than that. I hate to state the obvious—and it’s a sorry testament to women in sports, to be sure—but it’s practically an honor to think that he’d take on a woman when there are dozens of top men who would hire him in a heartbeat.” It was sad but true: male players made more prize money, drew bigger audiences, and commanded higher endorsement deals, and in turn, everyone wanted to work with them.
“What’s next?” Jake asked. “How did you two leave it?”
“He’s coming to LA. We’re going to meet. You’ll come, too, right? I can’t do this without you.”
“Of course,” Jake said without hesitation. “I’ll buy a ticket as soon as you say the word.”
Charlie eased the Jeep onto the exit ramp and slowed at the stop sign. She was less than a mile from the club when she suddenly remembered who she was meeting. “Don’t say anything to Dad, okay? We both know how he’s going to feel about this, so I don’t want him to know until I’m absolutely certain.”
“Roger that. I’ve got to run, C. Call me when you’re done with Dad. And Charlie? I hear what you’re saying, I really do. I think it could be an incredible opportunity.”
The Singles Game Page 4