Mr. Clutterbuck wrote everything down, then turned to Sasha and Kurt again.
“Let’s address the question in which church you fancy the ceremony to take place. You might know we have beautiful churches in London and I am certain we will find an appropriate chapel for a high-profile couple like you,” Mr. Clutterbuck began, but Sasha raised her hand.
“Not in a church,” she interrupted him. “I’m not a fan of churches and Jaro isn’t either.”
“I see,” Mr. Clutterbuck said. “I don’t fancy churches myself. They are so terribly outdated, aren’t they? We’ll find something more appropriate for young people like you.”
Sasha sighed in relief. At least she had prevented the worst. Her cell phone buzzed announcing a new message. Sasha pulled it out while the wedding planner was speaking again.
“For the party. I suggest renting a manor with a garden. We can provide ice sculptures and balloons,” Mr. Clutterbuck explained. Balloons? It wasn’t a kid’s birthday party, Sasha wondered. Then she opened the text message, and the wedding planner’s voice instantly faded to the background.
Miss Coconut, come to room 873. Quick.
“Mr. Nutterbuck, I – ,” Sasha interrupted herself, realizing that the words had come out slightly wrong. Miss Coconut. A reminder of their first kiss and a terribly sweet codename.
“I mean – ,” she started again, still staring at the words on her phone display.
For more kisses she needed to go to room 873. Did this mean she had to go upstairs or downstairs? What was her own room number again? She jumped up from her seat. Quick, the message read. Miss Coconut! Quick!
“I mean, Mr. Cocobutt, I’m really sorry but I have to leave you now. Kurt will arrange everything with you.”
She avoided looking at her manager who, surprised by her behavior, had gotten half-way up from the sofa but didn’t stop her when she rushed out of the room. Then Sasha remembered something important and turned around.
“We will need Slivovice! By the gallon!“ Then she rushed out again.
“I see,” she could hear the wedding planner say before the door closed. Sasha checked the room numbers on the doors while they were flying by. 633, 635. She needed to climb two stories. Twice they had met in Madrid so far, and every time it had been wonderful. The nights in Spain were warm and they had left the window open to let the breeze in. Since Indian Wells Sasha wasn’t leaving anymore, she always stayed the whole night.
The last meters she tried to walk, not run, so she wouldn’t be out of breath. Lulu shouldn’t see that she had been running. She raised her hand to knock, then realized she didn’t need to. The door was left ajar.
***
Gabriella had opened the door a little and peeked outside. She could hear footsteps running on the hallway carpet and she had to grin. Sasha had made it to the room in less than five minutes since she had written the text. That was a record.
Through the small gap she could see Sasha slow down and approach the door. Quickly Gabriella retreated back into the room and found a place near the window. She wanted to see Sasha’s face when the Czech entered the room. The door slowly opened and Sasha stuck her head in. Her brown hair fell over her face and for a short moment she seemed lost looking about the dimly lit room. Then her eyes adapted to the low lighting, and when she saw Gabriella waiting at the window, her face brightened with a wide smile.
“Hello lovely, you saved me from a horrible meeting with Mr. Peanut Nutterbutter,” the Czech chirped in a very bad British accent, about to rush towards Gabriella.
“Careful!” the American laughed. Sasha almost ran over a little table that was placed in the middle of the room.
After the clay tower construction Gabriella had rushed back to the hotel, cleaned herself of the blue dust which had covered her from head to toe and booked a new room as Luella Galloway. Under the shower, she had developed a plan for another architectural masterpiece. To the detriment of the hotel’s restaurant sous-chef, she had demanded an array of little local delicacies to be brought to her room and prepared on a mountain of stacked silver trays.
Grapes, figs, slices of melon and pineapple lay arranged next to small pastries and Spanish tapas.
“Oh, Lulu!” Sasha exclaimed, amazed by the extravagant and lavish spread.
Luella’s name sounded like a horrible scratch on a lovely record. Gabriella bit her lip, but then braced herself.
“I didn’t make them myself,” she smiled, walking around the table. “I forced the cook to make some pies for us. They were really busy but I charmed them into producing something special.”
“The advantage of being a Grand Slam champion,” Sasha giggled. “You get people to do anything, right?”
Again Gabriella swallowed, but nodded bravely. Soon she would have her own Grand Slam, she was sure of it. Sasha kicked off her shoes and advanced to the bed while Gabriella pushed the tray to the end of the bed.
“We have fruits en masse, Spanish tapas as well as peanut pudding cake and coconut pie” she presented the dinner, while Sasha flung herself onto the cushions.
For a while Sasha observed Gabriella while she stood with her arms spread.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” Sasha finally said.
Gabriella let her arms sink. Suddenly, there was so much more between them than just a serving table with a sweet picnic. The softness of Sasha’s voice still lingered in the air, snuggling against Gabriella’s ear. What did Sasha expect her to say? Why had she said that? And did Gabriella really want to know?
Wasn’t it much nicer to pretend that Sasha really liked her? Her, Gabriella, and not just the idea she had of someone she thought was Luella Galloway, the Grand Slam champion.
Carefully, as if not to whisk the softness out of the room, she climbed into bed and pulled the table closer.
“What would you like to try?” she asked quietly.
“Everything,” Sasha replied. “But first I want a kiss.”
She pulled Gabriella closer and bit her softly on her bottom lip.
Gabriella had begun to crave these moments. When she had a moment on the practice court, under the shower, when she was alone in her hotel room, she yearned for the touch of Sasha’s lips and the softness of her hair. And she loved the fact that the Czech couldn’t get enough of her. Even now Sasha had a hard time letting go of Gabriella, still nibbling on her lip.
The Galloway pulled away slowly, grabbed a peanut pudding cake and let Sasha have a bite.
“It’s delicious, Lulu,” Sasha mumbled after a while. She leaned forward to give the American another kiss, but Gabriella had turned away. There it was again. The loud scratching that stopped a lovely tune. Lulu. Luella. Lu. How she hated it when Sasha said these words. The more they saw each other the worse Gabriella felt about it. And she couldn’t even blame the Czech. It was her own fault that Sasha believed she was Lulu.
Gabriella turned to Sasha, who was now munching on a coconut pie, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. She had to tell her. She had to tell her that she wasn’t Lulu. But how to do that, Gabriella didn’t know. It wasn’t that easy. How would she explain to Sasha that she had been lying to her for three months? Nor did she want to elaborate on that problem now. Sasha had begun to remove her top and coconut rasps fell onto her breasts.
“Oh no,” Gabriella grinned. “Let me get this.” She leaned over and picked up the coconut pieces with her mouth. It was just the distraction she needed.
DOING THE SPLITS
Paris, France
Elise checked the road sign and sighed a little. 300 km to go until they reached Paris but it felt like their road adventure had almost come to an end. Amanda too had felt the slight dampening in their mood when they had packed their bags into the car this morning, and after passing through Dijon she had suggested taking a side road. This way they had more time before they reached Paris, more time for each other and the view was better, too.
In the last four days which she had spent with Amanda alone, Elise
had realized how little time they actually had to themselves even though they were traveling together constantly.
They had left Rome early in the morning after their last match and had made the long haul to Milan, along the coast, stopping to enjoy lunch next to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Over the following two days they had visited Lausanne and Bern, and had initially planned to drive up to Strasbourg to finally hand over the Japanese mara to Natsumi. But yesterday Natsumi had lost in the first round of the Strasbourg tournament and had informed them in the evening that she would take an early flight to Paris to hit the practice courts as soon as possible. So, once again plans had changed and the woodpecker was still in their possession.
“I’m a bit relieved that we won’t be meeting Natsumi until tomorrow,” Elise said, while looking down onto her lap. She had unpacked a plastic bag and taken out the wooden Japanese box. With her finger she lightly felt the corners inside the box. “It’s still a bit damp.”
“Didn’t you blow-dry it the other day?” Amanda asked, without taking her eyes off the road.
Elise nodded. “To no avail. It smells a bit weird, too. Not like curry, however.”
Now Amanda frowned and turned her head to check the box. One quick look and she knew what had happened.
“It’s mold!” she yelled. She almost drove into a tree when she slammed on the brakes and parked the car at the side of the road.
“Why are we stopping?” Elise asked, but Amanda had already jumped out of the car, run around and flung Elise’s door open.
“Mold!” she yelped. “We need to get rid of it!”
She grabbed the box out of Elise’s hands and held it far away from her body, then made a few steps into the little forest on the side of the road.
“You want to throw the dildo away?” Elise couldn’t believe it. They were almost in Paris where they would finally give Natsumi back the pesky travel companion.
“Not the pecker,” Amanda explained. She carefully took out the wooden phallus and examined it. “The pecker seems alright. But the box doesn’t. There’s mold everywhere. That’s highly dangerous for our health.”
She took the mara out of the box and handed it to Elise.
“What if the box is valuable?” Elise gasped.
“Then Natsumi should have paid for a guaranteed parcel delivery service,” Amanda said grimly. “She had the chance.”
Then she swung her arm and hauled the box far into the woods.
They both looked towards the trees where the box lay on the ground. Elise nodded. “True. It’s really unbelievable that she’s made us carry that thing around for months and months now.”
They hopped back into the car and sped down the road toward Paris. Even though it most probably meant that Natsumi would have a nervous fit, Elise was relieved that the smelly box was gone. She stuffed the remaining woodpecker into her small backpack where she kept all the souvenirs she had collected along their road trip. Several packs of Italian cookies, two huge salamis – one of which she wanted to give to her dad – and a small, multi-functional Swiss Army knife, a present from Amanda.
Suddenly she wasn’t that sad that their road trip was almost over. Soon Amanda and she would stroll the streets of Paris, the city where they had kissed the first time.
***
“Lulu? Are you ok?” Sasha looked at the Galloway twin who had turned her back towards her and had closed her eyes. “Luella?”
“Yes.” She almost sounded annoyed by Sasha’s inquiry. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Unsure what to make of that brusque answer, Sasha leaned over and placed a kiss on the twin’s black hair. Lulu had been unusually quiet this afternoon. Admittedly, she never talked that much but today it almost felt like she was completely absentminded.
“Lu?” Sasha asked again, this time even more gently.
“Please.” The twin turned her head for a short moment, looked at Sasha and sighed, making it perfectly understood that she wasn’t willing to talk about whatever was bugging her. But this time Sasha wasn’t ready to let go. Something was clearly wrong with Lulu. And if they weren’t going to have sex, they could at least talk.
“Is it your sister?” she asked.
Lulu’s head spun around. “What? What about her?”
“Well, you two always seemed very close. Inseparable. And these days you never even talk to each other.”
The twin turned away again. For a long while she just stared at the wall, then she shrugged. “We have different agendas. That’s all. Besides that, it’s not true that we never speak. We are doing the Supersport show together.”
Sasha grinned, not only because of Lulu’s cheap attempt at downplaying the mysterious rift that had come between the Galloway twins, but also because she remembered the latest episode that was airing on Supersport at the moment.
“You look great with a shovel and a bucket. All that was missing was a hard hat,” she purred, giving the twin another kiss on the neck. “But I have to say, all those clothes were really unnecessary.”
But Lulu didn’t smile. Instead, she kept on staring at the hotel room wall and Sasha wondered what on earth she could do to cheer the Galloway up. After another silent quarter hour, just when the Czech decided that it was perhaps for the best that she get up and leave Lulu alone, the twin slowly turned around.
“Do you like Gabriella?” she asked, looking at Sasha.
“Well, I hardly ever talk to her,” Sasha answered, curious where this was going. Lulu seemed to be thinking hard about the next question.
“I mean, do you think she’s nice?”
“Yes,” Sasha said cautiously. “She seems very nice.”
“If it wasn’t for me, could you imagine being with her?”
Now Sasha raised an eyebrow. Was Lulu afraid Sasha would ditch her for her estranged sister? “But I’m spending time with you. And I’m perfectly happy with the way it is. Why would I spend time with her?”
“Well, we look the same. We talk the same. We are basically the same. Right?”
Sasha hesitated. Yes, the twins looked alike and it was hard to tell them apart, but they couldn’t be more different in manner, at least in public. “I don’t think you are the same, Lu.”
She sat up and took Luella’s hand. “See, it’s not about looks. It’s not even the sex – which is great, by the way. I just like spending time with you. Not your sister. Besides – Gabriella is straight.”
Lulu looked at her for a while but she didn’t pull her hand away and Sasha took it as a positive sign that the Galloway wasn’t offended or intimidated by Sasha’s approach to talking about emotional matters.
“No,” the twin said finally, solemnly. “Gabriella isn’t straight.”
“But – ,” Now Sasha was confused. Hadn’t she spent hours and hours watching the twins during the last season, finally coming to the conclusion that Lulu was gay and Gabriella straight? The last three months since she had started her affair with Lulu in Dubai only confirmed this observation. Something else confused her. Something about the emphasis of Lulu’s answer seemed a bit off, but Sasha couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Are you saying you are both gay?”
Sasha must have given Lulu the weirdest look as suddenly the twin started roaring with laughter.
“No, that’s not what I was saying,” she laughed, then pulled Sasha closer. “Nevermind.”
Sasha closed her eyes when she felt the twin’s lips on hers, still trying to make sense of these questions and answers. But at the next kiss she gave up.
“Nevermind,” Lulu whispered again. It sounded like a mantra.
***
Mint turned from Rue Suzanne Lenglen into the alley behind Court Phillipe Chatrier and entered the first practice court to the right. Her practice partner for today was already waiting and waving from across the court when she saw Mint.
“Mint, honey!” Natsumi Takashima was grinning at the American and gave her a warm hug when Mint reached the chairs.
“It’s
been way too long,” Mint stated. “Good to have you back.”
Natsumi nodded. “Yes, I hated not being able to play. Still struggling to find my form though.”
“Strasbourg didn’t go too well, did it?”
“Don’t even ask,” Natsumi said, shaking her head in disgust. Mint grinned. She knew that in the first set in Strasbourg Natsumi had received a bagel, and even though the Japanese girl was able to find to her game in the second set she eventually lost the match 6-2 7-5.
“I wish I had signed up for Strasbourg,” Mint smirked. “Now that you’re out, I might have had a chance.”
“Why didn’t you play it?” Natsumi asked.
Mint shrugged. “Evelina. She likes Paris better.”
Natsumi shook her head and looked the younger player over. “You really have to do something about her, Mint.”
“Whatever.” Mint shrugged once more. There was not much she could do about her stepmother who – as her personal sponsor – had a firm grip on Mint. “What happened in Strasbourg?” she asked in order to divert attention from her stepmother problem.
“The problem was that I felt unsure about doing my splits,” Natsumi explained. “It’s absolutely vital for my game, especially on clay.”
Mint nodded. Natsumi’s splits were spectacular and dreaded by her opponents. With this athletic trick she was able to reach almost every ball. Due to her great movement, splits and sliding she had had good runs in the clay court tournaments in the past years.
“I have to practice the splits again,” Natsumi continued, taking the racquet from her bag and checking the strings. Then she gave Mint a huge grin. “I would really appreciate it if you went for the lines today.”
She gave Mint a pat on the shoulder and sprinted to the baseline. They exchanged a couple of forehands and backhands to warm up, then Mint began to hit her shots closer to the sidelines. Natsumi carefully began to slide into her return shots, going lower and lower to the ground with every ball.
Love Game - Season 2012 Page 16