“It looked like you guys might have been disagreeing, or that something was off about the play,” the reporter pushed.
“We were winning going in, we won that game, and then we went on to win five more,” Jay said, without her usual cocky smile or good-natured give and take. “We couldn’t have been that far off, Terry.”
“Come on, Jay, a time violation, and then she served with your back to the court three times?”
“We’re still working out the details of our movements,” Destiny offered. “I’ve never played doubles before, so I’m not used to considering anyone else’s position or timing.”
“So you served with someone standing right in front of you?”
“I did,” Destiny said, without losing the hint of a smile that had graced her lips since the game in question. Sadie’s heart seemed to beat out of rhythm for a second as pride clashed with skepticism. There was clearly more to the story, and the fact that they felt the need to lie to the press meant it probably wasn’t pretty, yet neither one of them cracked or threw the other under the bus. They were presenting a unified front, which had to be a good sign.
“She didn’t just serve,” Jay added. “She aced.”
“Because you said or did something to make her mad?” a different reporter asked.
“If I did, I’ll be sure never to do it if I’m ever playing opposite her in singles.”
The press corps laughed, and some of the tension left Sadie’s chest. So far, all of her curiosity and worry had been focused on her daughter, but when Jay cracked a joke, she realized that her own uncharacteristic behavior had contributed to the disconcerting dynamic shift as much as Destiny’s swing in the opposite direction. They hadn’t quite traded personalities so much as each of them had slid a little closer to the other. Perhaps Hank had been right, and winning had gone a long way to smooth the roughness between them, but she suspected more had taken place, and she was glad neither of them had any intention of discussing the details with the press.
“Will you play together in Rome?” a woman asked.
Jay raised her eyebrow at Destiny. “What do you say?”
Destiny nodded and extended her hand. “I’m in if you are.”
Jay shook, and then without a smile turned back to the mic. “I guess so.”
The press seemed happy with the announcement and the photo op, so Jay and Destiny both took the chance to make their escapes. Hank intercepted them at the door to the restricted area. He slapped each woman on the back so hard they both rocked forward. “Well done. All around.”
Destiny smiled at him, and then turned to Sadie, who wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“For the match or the press conference?” Destiny asked, a humor in her voice Sadie hadn’t heard in a long time.
“Both.”
“I’m more proud of the press conference.” Hank laughed. “You had a better bob-and-weave there than you did on the court.”
“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “They were pretty dominant in the second set; 6-1 in the quarterfinals isn’t nothing.”
“Des still spent too much time behind the baseline,” he said, then shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter tonight. I feel like we had a breakthrough today. We need to celebrate.”
“We still have another match to play,” Destiny protested, then added, “at least one.”
“Never miss a chance to bask in a little happiness,” Sadie said, wanting to extend the joy in her daughter’s eyes for as long as she could.
“Your mother’s right. Let’s go out. Dinner’s on me tonight,” Hank said. He turned to Jay and asked, “What do you want, tapas, paella, some of the salty ham everyone likes around here?”
Jay smiled, but it didn’t make her eyes sparkle. “Can I get a rain check? I’m beat.”
“What? No,” Hank said. “I’ve seen you so tired you can’t stand up, but you’ve never turned down free food. Even when you were rich.”
“I was also young,” Jay said. “You guys go have fun. I’m going to ice my feet and go to bed early.”
Sadie clutched her arm, feeling a cool sheen of sweat over the taut muscle of her triceps. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Jay said without quite looking her in the eye. “I can’t just expect Destiny to hit aces all the time, and if she wants me to cover my half of the court tomorrow, I need rest.”
Sadie looked from Jay to Destiny and back again. They’d said exactly what everyone wanted to hear and done what they needed to do, but a mother had intuitions the press didn’t, and something was off. But Des seemed better than she had in weeks, happier, more confident, more content, so if a mother’s impulse mattered above all else, she shouldn’t have any serious concerns. And yet Jay’s subdued demeanor sent a jolt to the part of her heart usually held solely by her daughter. Surely she hadn’t taken to mothering her, too. No, as she gave Jay’s muscle another squeeze, she noted the feelings stirring in her chest might have come from the same spot, but they weren’t the same.
“Mom, it’s been a big day.” Destiny cut in before Sadie could sort through the emotions stirring in her. “She’s already done a lot for us over the last couple weeks. Let her have some time to herself.”
Sadie frowned. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Jay wanted time away from them. Maybe the problem wasn’t with Jay, but with the constant contact. They’d needled her to play doubles, practiced her endlessly, traveled together, eaten together, won together, and held press conferences together. It made sense that the woman might need a night off, but even with such a logical explanation, the thought made her ribs feel tighter than ever. She stepped back and released her hold. “Destiny’s right. We’ve asked a lot of you lately. If you need some space, I understand.”
“It’s not that. You haven’t asked too much,” Jay said quickly, then glanced at Destiny and sighed. “It’s the job and commitments, and you guys go enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great. Thanks,” Des said with a genuine smile. “See you tomorrow.”
“Works for me,” Hank added with a shrug. Then he and Des pushed through the door, already talking about dinner options, but Sadie couldn’t quite let go yet.
“Are you sure this isn’t about whatever happened on the court today?”
Jay’s face drained of all its color. “I don’t know what you mean. Other than, you know, the playing, in which case, yes. I played hard. I need to rest.”
Sadie nodded and just let her keep talking.
“I mean, I’m not as young as I used to be. And Des hits hard. I have to move a lot to keep up, which is fine, it’s good, but you know, we work hard.”
“And sometimes you get into arguments.”
“No. I mean, yes. Well, disagreements, but that’s part of working with someone new, and . . .” She sighed and hung her head. “I’m tired, okay?”
She did seem exhausted, more than just her sweaty hair and slumped shoulders revealed. Her eyes were dull and unfocused. “Okay. Just tell me one thing, though. Whatever caused the blowup in the second set, was it Destiny’s fault?”
Jay opened her mouth as if she intended to deny there was a problem, but instead she shook her head. “No. She wasn’t out of line. I was.”
“You?”
“We just needed to lay some ground rules for our relationship,” Jay said; then her smile perked up a little bit more. “And for what it’s worth, I think your worries about Destiny’s adjusting to pro tennis are unfounded. She’s smart and strong-willed, and she loves you very much.”
Sadie wasn’t at all sure how those things were connected with each other, much less a doubles match. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a very big ‘but’ coming?”
“There’s not,” Jay said quickly. “You did a good job, Tennis Mom. She’s got her priorities in line, maybe better than I did for a while, but we’re sorted out now.”
“And this agreement,” Sadie asked skeptically, “you’re both happy with the terms?
”
“Happy might not be the best word,” Jay admitted, “but it’s in agreement with our values and how we want to go about our business, which is winning tennis games, so I’m going to go back to the hotel now and focus on doing what I can to help us win tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Sadie acquiesced.
What more could she say? She couldn’t force Jay to go to dinner with them, and she couldn’t needle her anymore in the pressroom. Honestly, Jay would’ve been well within her bounds to tell her to butt out several minutes ago, or even several weeks ago, but she hadn’t. She’d been polite and clearly more forthcoming than she really wanted to be. To ask for more of her time or energy or trust would have been unfair, but that didn’t mean Sadie didn’t want more of all of them.
★ ★ ★
Rome, Italy
“Pierce and Larsen continue to make a steady run up the doubles ladder. After reaching the semifinals last week in Madrid, they’ve served and sliced their way through the competition here in Rome to find themselves on the brink of their first tournament win as a team.”
Jay bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to ignore the chatter on the locker room TV, but it wasn’t easy to do when they kept saying her name. She’d never been one of those players who could tune out the crowd, so she’d learned to use their energy to feed her own. Only now she didn’t have a crowd, and she didn’t like the energy floating around the tense locker room.
“They have been impressive,” another commentator said. “I actually got to see their first-round match on one of the back courts. I admit I only peeked in expecting a train wreck. I’d heard stories about them bumping into each other and bickering on the court, but it felt like I was watching a much more experienced duo.”
She bent down and touched her toes, then crossed one leg over the other and tried again. No pain. At least not the physical kind. She glanced up at Sadie, sitting behind Destiny and braiding her long curls. She ran her fingers tenderly through strands the color of a perfectly toasted marshmallow, and Jay felt a twinge of regret over trimming her own mundane, sandy locks just off her shoulders earlier in the week. What would it feel like to have Sadie’s tender touch— the line of thought would only lead down a dangerous dark alley, so she bent a little lower, forcing her lumbar muscles to stretch farther than they wanted to.
“Let’s not forget Jay Pierce is plenty experienced,” the first commentator droned on, clearly trying to fill airtime between matches few people stateside had any interest in. “People who are new to the sport might not remember how thrilling it was to watch her with Katia Vitrov. A lot of years have passed since then, but the two of them were absolutely electric.”
“In more ways than one,” the second commentator added with a suggestiveness in his voice that made Jay want to retch. Instead, she reached over her head and slapped the power button on the television.
Sadie and Destiny both stared at her. So did their opponents, who had been chatting quietly in Spanish across the room.
“Sorry,” she grumbled. “Gotta focus.”
Des and Sadie exchanged another quizzical look, probably wondering if one of them should talk to her, or ignore her odd behavior in the hopes that it would go away.
“I’m fine,” Jay said in a completely unconvincing tone. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we head out.”
Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the room and around the corner. She thought briefly about sticking her head under a shower faucet, but settled instead for a handful of cool water from the sink. She splashed her face and stared at herself in the mirror while drops of water fell from her dark eyelashes.
They’d played brilliantly all week. It was like the dam of anger and fear holding Destiny back had cracked in Madrid, allowing a flow of talent to flood through. She still didn’t move well on the doubles court, but what she lacked in footwork, she made up for with power and grit. She served like a beast and gutted out every point. And while she hadn’t exactly warmed to anything resembling friendship with Jay, she did smile more, and even offered the occasional “nice shot” or fist bump. And they won. Steadily, handily, they mowed down the competition, and damned if the command didn’t rejuvenate her. When Jay took the court with Destiny, she played like she was twenty years old again. Then she’d look into the stands for Sadie and feel like she was twenty years old again.
She couldn’t even relax and enjoy the little moments. Everything good reminded her of everything bad, and if her own mind wasn’t bad enough about dredging up the past, now the press was getting in on the act too. She’d reached the point where she almost feared the prospect of winning.
“Hey,” Sadie said softly.
Jay blinked away the remaining water from her eyes and forced a smile. “Time to go?”
Sadie shook her head and leaned her shoulder against the wall so her body blocked much of the doorway. Her frame wasn’t as long as Jay’s, but the slow, languid movement made it seem as though she took up more space than she did. Or maybe she’d simply taken up a disproportionate amount of space in Jay’s mind.
“I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you,” Sadie said. “No matter what happens today.”
“It’s nothing,” Jay said quickly, wishing Sadie wasn’t quite so grateful. The heartfelt moments of thanks always set her emotions on edge, and the more she’d tried to pull away, the more Sadie seemed to try to connect.
“It is something,” Sadie said, her voice low and soft. “You being here, being steady and confident, has helped Destiny so much over the last few weeks.”
“Right, Destiny,” she muttered. Every time Sadie said the name, with so much love, so much gravity, the heat building in Jay’s chest and cheeks chilled more than any splash of water could provide. She’d learned to lean on the inevitability of that shift away from herself and toward Sadie’s primary interest, because what she really meant when she said she appreciated Jay in their lives was that she appreciated what Jay did for Destiny. “She’s coming right along. If she hadn’t run up against Halep in the singles this week, she would’ve reached the quarterfinals here in singles, maybe even the semis. She’ll get there.”
“And what about you?” Sadie asked.
“I didn’t play as well as last week,” Jay said, grateful to be back on more neutral subjects. “I’m relying too much on my return, which has always been my strength, of course, but—”
“I didn’t mean on the court,” Sadie clarified. “Not when talking about Des, and not when asking about you.”
“Oh,” Jay said. So much for solid ground.
“She’s blossoming, emotionally and socially. She smiles more and yells less, but you seem to be experiencing the opposite.”
“I yell more?” Jay tried to deflect. “That’s hard to imagine. I already yelled a lot before we met.”
Sadie’s smile flashed brighter than the overhead lights. “Okay, maybe you yell the same on the court, but I hate to think that Destiny only found her smile by stealing yours.”
“No.” The thought hurt her heart. She and Destiny had found their balance. The girl had been harsh, but for all the right reasons— reasons Jay respected and agreed with even if she hated that she’d needed to be reminded of them. She respected Des for her willingness to be blunt about a topic most people only alluded to, and she was happy to find out what she’d initially read as spoiled behavior actually covered a fierce loyalty. “Des and I are good. It’s the pace, and the play, and the pressure . . .”
“It’s not,” Sadie said lightly. “It’s something else, something that happened to you, something you still carry with you, that we’ve somehow tripped a trigger for.”
Jay wanted to respond, to deny, to shake the tightness from her chest, but she couldn’t speak for all the pressure building there.
“I’m not asking for an explanation,” Sadie continued, stepping slowly closer now. “Your past, your memories are yours, and no one else has a right to try to tell you what to do with yo
ur demons. I know this as well as anyone can, but I want you to know I see them. I see the hurt in your eyes. I see the strain behind your smile. I know that whatever the last few weeks have given back, they’re also taking a lot from you.”
Jay hung her head. Even if her throat wasn’t raw and her breath burning, how could she look Sadie in the eye and, do what? Explain? Apologize? She’d exerted so much energy and emotion trying not to let it show, giving everything she could to the game while offering no distractions or complications or any part of herself that might amplify anyone else’s discomfort.
Sadie closed the gap between them, and cupping Jay’s cheek in her hand, lifted her chin just enough for their eyes to meet. “I also see you choosing patience over frustration. I see you putting our needs above your own. I see your strength and your steadiness despite whatever’s swirling inside you.”
“You really don’t know my history?” Jay asked, a little amazed that Sadie had seen so much of her and still hadn’t gone looking for answers. They weren’t hard to find.
“I know you. That’s enough for me.”
Jay tried to shake her head, but Sadie held her still.
“You’re fighting an internal battle, and I won’t tell you to stop. I only wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you haven’t surrendered yet, and I hope you never do.” Sadie arched up on tiptoe and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, her scent forming an aura of sweetness around them. Then she stepped back, leaving Jay alone in the haze.
“Ms. Pierce?” A league official called from the waiting area of the locker room. “Time to take the court.”
Jay sighed, but this time it came with a smile and a strange kind of peace. “Yes. Yes it is.”
★ ★ ★
“You’re a winner!” Sadie called as she pointed to her daughter, before turning to include Jay in the gesture, “and you’re a winner. And Hank, where did Hank go? Oh, he’s in the bathroom, but he’s a winner.”
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