“I know you probably have other offers, and you only played with Destiny as a favor to me. I also know she’s been a little slower to come around than you have.”
Jay smiled. “Ya think?”
Sadie squeezed her arm, and her dark eyes flickered up to meet Jay’s. “Okay, a lot slower, but she’s not good with change, and she’s had a lot of it lately. If she had more time . . .”
Jay shook her head. “We’re all in Madrid next week. It’s a primary tournament. She’s going to be under a lot of pressure to do well in the singles in order to make it into the main draw at the French.”
“Exactly. There’s so much pressure in the singles. Wouldn’t it be nice to play a little doubles, where no one expects anything from you?” Sadie leaned close enough to whisper. “And the first-round payout is $9,000? Even if you lose in the second round, you still win.”
Jay’s head felt like she was hanging upside down, and while she wanted to pretend the numbers had sparked the blood rush, she suspected Sadie’s proximity had more to do with it.
She nodded mutely. “Yeah, I—”
“Mom?”
The word was like a bucket of ice water right under her towel, and they both jumped back to stare at Destiny.
“What’s going on?” Destiny asked, as if she feared the answer. “Hank and I have been waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “Jay and I were just talking about Madrid.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What about it?”
Jay cleared her throat. “We’re going to see if we can get a wild card for the doubles.”
“No,” Destiny said flatly.
Jay shrugged. “Okay then.”
But Sadie didn’t fold so easily. “I understand you’re not in love with the idea, but—”
Destiny clenched her jaw and shook her head.
Jay looked awkwardly into her locker, trying not to be caught in the middle of another family disagreement. The last time that had happened, she’d been roped into playing big sister.
“It’s a good opportunity for you, Des. After how far you went this time—”
“We got the money we needed to get to Madrid,” the girl said coolly. “It’s the last major tournament before the French Open.”
“Exactly,” Sadie said, so emphatically her curls gave a little bounce. “If you and Jay do well there, you could qualify for doubles in the French Open.”
“Whoa,” Jay said, peeking out from behind the locker door. “Did you just commit me to playing doubles for four more weeks?”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “It’s clay court season. You got better plans?”
“Zing.” Jay laughed. “Your sassy side comes with a sharp edge.”
“No,” Destiny said again. “Stop it, both of you. You can’t just decide things for me.”
“Don’t look at me,” Jay muttered, then ducked back behind the locker door again. “Your tennis mom is steering the ship.”
“Hank had a say in the plan, too,” Sadie defended. “He thinks playing doubles at a larger event will be good for you. More practice under pressure, and more opportunity to quicken your footwork on clay. He’s the coach. What he says, goes. I happen to agree with him, but even if I didn’t, I’d suggest you listen to him.”
Destiny folded her arms across her chest. “What about Nuremburg? Let’s skip Madrid and play doubles when we get to Germany.”
“Why not both?”
“Madrid’s too important. The press will be there in force, along with all the best players. I don’t want to be seen with her.”
Jay closed the locker door with a metallic thud. “You mean you won’t play with me, right? Not that you won’t be seen with me, ’cause they mean two different things.”
“And I meant both of them,” Destiny said, still looking at her mother. “If we have to, we’ll make money a different way.”
“It’s not about the money,” Sadie said, her own voice show-casing where her daughter’s had inherited its steely bent.
“Then we’ll practice another time,” Des shot back.
“It’s not about the practice, not after that comment,” Sadie said, looking over her shoulder at Jay. “I’m sorry for my daughter’s behavior. If you don’t want to play with a rude child, I’ll forgive you, because apparently in addition to more footwork, she also needs an attitude adjustment.”
“Mom,” Destiny snapped, but Sadie held up a palm right in her face.
“Jay, if you’re still willing to help us out, I’d be honored if you’d travel with us to Madrid. Then we’ll make sure we get hotel rooms nearby, so Destiny can have plenty of opportunity to work on her manners. If you want, she’ll do her penance by carrying your bags.”
Jay laughed, but Destiny’s eyes darkened even further, and the sound died in her throat. God, this kid really hated her. Initially Jay had just pegged her for scared and overwhelmed with a strong dose of parental-based spoiling, but now the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The disgust on Destiny’s face wasn’t self-centered. It was pointed right at Jay.
Her stomach tightened as the bile started to churn. It’d been a long time since she’d recognized that undisguised repulsion in someone opposite her, but her body hadn’t forgotten its standard reaction. Shame burned her cheeks as the whispers rushed back through her ears. She felt the hot stares against her back and the twisted knots in her shoulders. She’d been through enough to know she had to let the emotions run their course. Bottling them up only allowed the acid to burn longer or bubble up later. Allowing them to rush over her and fade away offered the only quick relief. Only this time the feelings didn’t subside, so much as shift. Something hotter than humiliation baked beneath the surface now.
Who the hell was Destiny Larsen to judge her? The kid had barely been born when she’d met Katia. She would’ve been in elementary school when their worlds crashed down. Any of the lies she’d heard wouldn’t have just been secondhand. They’d have been filtered through a decade of hazy innuendo and snarky backchannels. Jay had done the work of a lifetime to rebuild her credibility with people who actually mattered, people she’d legitimately disappointed or hurt no matter how involuntarily, but she owed nothing to a kid who cut her teeth on someone else’s personal tragedy.
“Jay,” Sadie whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” She blinked, her eyes focusing away from the past and onto the woman before her.
“I’m sorry for Destiny’s bad behavior. She’s never spoken to anyone like that in my presence, not in seventeen years. I don’t know what I did to let her think that level of rudeness would be tolerated.”
“You didn’t,” Jay said softly. “Plenty of other people did that work for you.”
Sadie seemed genuinely confused. “I don’t understand.”
Jay smiled slightly, believing her. Sadie had no idea what they were talking about. They’d had a fresh start. She knew Jay only for the woman she’d become, and she liked her enough to want her around. Would the same hold true after she heard more? Because she undoubtedly would. Which version of Jay would she accept then? The one she knew, or the one so many others thought they did? For the first time in a long time, Jay wanted to stick around long enough to find out, or maybe even try to tip the scales in her favor. After years of hiding, of throwing up walls and keeping a healthy distance between herself and anyone who looked at her the way Destiny did, had Jay’s impulse to run finally run out?
Or had Sadie somehow done something to override it?
★ ★ ★
“I don’t want to hear it,” Sadie snapped at Destiny, as she wheeled their suitcases into a row at the hotel room door.
“You have to listen,” Destiny pleaded. “She’s not a good person, like, ten years ago she started a huge scandal by—”
“I don’t care if she shot someone on the court,” Sadie said. “She’s been nothing but polite and reasonable with you. Hank swears she’s trustworthy. She bailed you out on the court last week, and she did
n’t throttle you for speaking to her with blatant disrespect. As far as I’m concerned, she’s been infinitely more patient than she should’ve been.”
“So, you don’t even care about the girl whose life she ruined?”
“No.” She didn’t. She honestly didn’t want to hear whatever horrific tale Destiny had dredged up about Jay. Maybe if she’d seen anything suspicious in Jay over the last few weeks, or maybe if Hank’s endorsement hadn’t been quite so ringing, or maybe if she hadn’t seen the hurt and shame pass so heartbreakingly over Jay’s jubilant features, she would’ve worried, but Sadie trusted her gut. She always made her own decisions, and she wouldn’t let Jay be an exception to the rule. She didn’t know why she felt such a strong urge to protect her, but she didn’t ignore those impulses. Then again, her mothering instincts were equally strong, and the discordance between her assessment of Jay’s character and the need to be there for her daughter was tearing her apart.
“You can’t trust people like her. She’s doesn’t have any self-control—”
“Destiny,” Sadie shouted loud enough to be heard several rooms over, “stop!”
Destiny’s chest heaved under a magenta tank top, but she heeded the warning. Without another word, she hoisted her carry-on and marched it into the hallway.
“Not another word about Jay,” Sadie said more softly. “You do not have to like her. You don’t have to trust her. You do have to show her some basic level of respect. You need to extend her at least the common courtesies you would give a stranger on the street. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Destiny said tersely, then let the door fall shut behind her.
Sadie sighed. It wasn’t the answer she would’ve liked, but Destiny hadn’t argued, so she’d take it. A hug would’ve been nice though. When Destiny was little and had done something rude or just wrong, Sadie would sit her down and explain the consequences of her actions, a time-out, a grounding, no dessert, but no matter what, she would always hug her and tell her she loved her unconditionally. When had the tradition stopped?
She was still pondering the question as they all shuffled through airport security and Destiny jammed her headphones back in her ears. She’d taken them out only long enough to go through the metal detector, thus cutting off all hope of small talk, much less a meaningful conversation.
“Hey,” a gentle voice said from just over her left shoulder. Sadie turned to see Jay standing beside her, one hand jammed in the pocket of her dark jeans. Her button-down shirt was cuffed at her sleeves and open at her throat, giving a rakish appeal to business casual, and the cerulean color made her eyes seem even more entrancing than usual.
“Hi,” Sadie said with a smile. Not the most brilliant greeting in the world, but it seemed to suffice, because Jay returned her expression.
“You ready for sunny Spain?”
Sadie hadn’t thought about Spain until that moment, not the tournament, not the weather, not the country at all. Tennis travel had long ago lost its luster. She rarely had time to see things other than courts, locker rooms, and hotels. Still, something about the way Jay asked the question gave her a little thrill of anticipation. “You know? I think I’m ready for a change of latitude if it helps with a change of attitude.”
“You and me both,” Jay said, only a slight hint of exhaustion in her voice.
“I don’t know,” Hank said, coming up behind them. “We didn’t do too bad in Prague.”
“We’ll do better in Madrid,” Jay said amicably. “Right, Destiny?”
They all turned to look at Des, who merely stared straight ahead.
“She’s got her headphones in,” Sadie explained, tension returning to her jaw.
“Oh, in that case, we can talk about her freely,” Jay said, then went on to mouth several soundless words until Destiny finally rolled her eyes.
“I know you’re not really talking.”
“Ah, the ol’ headphones-in, iPod-off trick,” Jay said with a grin. “I know it well.”
Sadie’s stomach dropped. “You’re not listening to any music?”
“Not at the moment,” Destiny mumbled.
“I see.” Sadie didn’t elaborate for fear her hurt and insecurity would be evident to everyone.
Destiny had picked up the habit of using earphones almost constantly when she’d started traveling for tennis tournaments around the age of thirteen. Sadie initially wrote the disconnect off as a way for Des to unwind after busy, loud, stressful competitions, though now she wondered if the coinciding timing with her entry into the teenage years had been connected. Maybe she hadn’t wanted a break from the outside hustle and bustle so much as she’d needed time off from talking to Sadie.
Hank cleared his throat. “Our gate’s right there. Why don’t you get settled in? I’ll go find us some coffee.”
“I’ll go, too,” Destiny offered, then, as if trying to force the words painfully from her mouth, added, “Can I, um, get something for you? I mean, Jay.”
Jay held up a blue refillable water bottle. “I filled up when I got through security. Thanks though.”
Destiny nodded, then turned back to Sadie as if she wanted to say more, then shrugged and walked away.
Sadie wove her way through a group of American high schoolers with matching backpacks, clearly on a school spring break trip, until she found some empty seats near a floor-to-ceiling window. Dropping her purse with a thud, she landed in the chair in similar fashion, then sighed heavily.
“Rough morning?” Jay settled a little more gingerly beside her.
Sadie hung her head. “You could say that.”
“My fault?” Jay asked softly.
“No.” Sadie met her alluring eyes. “We’re all under a lot of pressure. Des is tense and defensive. I’m tense and insecure. Hank is tense and overcompensating. None of that is your fault. Honestly, I’m not even sure why you’re here when we’ve offered you nothing but stress and awkwardness and bad manners.”
“You also helped me earn an extra paycheck last week,” Jay offered.
“Is that it?” Sadie asked, her limbs heavy as the logic of the answer settled over her. “Do you really need the money badly enough to put up with us all?”
Jay smiled and shook her head, her sandy hair skimming across her shoulders and curling unevenly along her starched shirt collar. “I should say yes, and don’t get me wrong, the money helps, but it’s not the primary reason.”
“Is it because Hank guilted you?”
She laughed. “Hank is good at many things. Emotional appeals are not among them. You, on the other hand, are like, ninja level with the mom guilt. Seriously, the force is strong with you, but not even the dressing-down you gave me about being a good role model weighed as much as you probably would have liked.”
“No?” Sadie asked, turning in her seat so that her body angled toward Jay’s. “What tipped the scales then?”
“You seem to like me.”
Sadie waited for more of an explanation, but none came.
“I like you? Really? You’ve played a game you don’t want to play, put up with a surly teen, added hours of practice to your schedule, and rearranged travel plans simply because I seem to like you?”
“Pretty pathetic, huh?” Jay asked, her cheeks coloring.
“No,” Sadie said quickly. “Not pathetic. Everyone wants to be liked. I’d just think that almost everyone would find you likable.”
Jay’s smile returned, this time with a hint of shyness, “Well, you’d be wrong. For one, a lot of people don’t ever take the chance, and for two, I don’t often give people the chance.”
“Why?”
“What’s the saying? Once bitten, twice shy? Or, fool me once something something shame on me? It’s part of growing up.” Her blue eyes darkened slightly, causing Sadie to wonder what undercurrent of seriousness or pain ran beneath the casualness of the comment. “But either way, I don’t trust the press, and I don’t travel with a coach anymore, so it’s nice to see a friendly face on the road,
even if that face is attached to a tennis mom who sometimes yells at me to be a better person.”
“Thank you . . . I think,” Sadie said, struck by the sweetness laced with humor. Was Jay naturally prone to the combination, or had she learned to weave the two together as a sort of survival instinct?
“You’re welcome,” Jay said, a slight frown tugging at her lips, “for now, anyway. I’ll let you reserve full judgment until after Madrid. The stakes are about to go up, and the pressure will, too, along with scrutiny from the press and the officials and, well, the world at large.”
“I know Des is worried about it, but I don’t understand all the fuss. You’ve still got a couple weeks until the French Open. Madrid is a clay court, which she’s good on. And I don’t see any reason for the press to behave any differently than they have until now.”
“Let’s put it this way. You know how Des and I are practicing in progressively bigger venues and against tougher opponents as a way of ramping up for the big show ahead? Well, the press is, too.”
“How so?”
“Basically, no one in the American public has cared about tennis a bit since the Australian Open, and even that’s the least compelling of the majors for a viewing public coming off the holidays and gearing up for the Superbowl. The reporters following us had their stories filed in the back of newspapers or tucked away on obscure websites, but in a few weeks, they’ll be catapulted back onto the front page.”
“So what, they need to start practicing more detailed stories?”
“Oh, how we all wish they would focus more on craft or technical aspects of the game.” Jay shook her head. “More likely, though, they’ll be laying the groundwork for human interest stories, trying to get the scoop on anything that will hook casual tennis followers on their column or news reports for the duration of the summer.”
“Well, I happen to find Destiny very interesting and appealing, but so far the press hasn’t shown much interest in her as a person. I can’t imagine why they’d start now.”
Jay shifted in her chair, putting her hands on the armrests as if she were about to push herself up, then sighed and settled back in. “Look, remember how I said I don’t let a lot of people get close?”
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