Love All

by Spangler, Rachel;

  Then she exploded into action. There was no other way to put it. If there was a tennis move to be made, Jay made it, and did so magnificently. Sadie could almost see an aura of command radiating off her as she sprinted, glided, slid, and swung in the most powerful display of fight and finesse Sadie had yet to see in women’s tennis. Camera lenses pointed toward their box to catch every reaction to every epic point, and soon whispers spread through the crowd as people around them noticed their presence. No doubt many of them had already been in the stadium before Destiny’s press conference, but word must have been spreading, because as Jay’s play continued to improve, so did her reception.

  It started with a smattering of applause down the right sideline as one of Jay’s serves kissed the line, followed by a more grudging bit of acknowledgment when a drop shot had so much spin it landed on her opponent’s side of the net before kicking back over the tape.

  By the next changeover, Jay had broken her opponent and held serve, giving her a 2-1 lead, and Sadie estimated more than a quarter of the crowd was openly cheering for her. The break between sets also gave the spectators a chance to pull out their smartphones and read the sports headlines.

  Peggy held up her phone to Des. “Your statement to the press is trending on Twitter, and it’s the top story on every news site.”

  Destiny’s complexion went a little gray, and Sadie reached across to take her hand.

  “We’ll get through it,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” Des forced a smile.

  “Hey,” Peggy cut back in lightly. “Would now be a bad time to ask if you’re still going to play doubles with Jay, because if you’re not, I think you and I could—”

  “Peggy,” Hank warned.

  She laughed. “I’m just teasing.” Then turning back to Des, she whispered, “Not really.”

  The little aside made the corners of Destiny’s mouth curl up and Sadie’s shoulder muscles relax slightly. She didn’t really believe Peggy would steal Jay’s doubles partner, but she appreciated the confidence boost she’d just given her daughter.

  “Hey,” Hank whispered, pulling their attention back toward his end of the row. “Have any of you considered the fact that Jay could win this?”

  They all turned from one to another, each appearing mildly embarrassed to admit they hadn’t.

  “She’d be a Wimbledon finalist. That wasn’t the plan when she walked in here today,” Peggy said. “She just wanted to survive today.”

  “Me too,” Des mumbled, and Sadie silently added a me three.

  Jay jogged back across the grass once more and quickly sent the first serve careening off the crosscourt sideline. Hank said, “Now might be a good time to reevaluate the plan.”

  And he was right, as usual. Jay’s adrenaline didn’t seem to be waning. She got better as the match went on. The crowd’s response improved as well, and both Jay and the spectators seemed to feed off each other. Every time the cheers grew, Jay responded by giving them something to cheer about, until they both crescendoed as Jay sent the match point skidding across the baseline at Jill Fradley’s feet.

  To her credit, Jill smiled brightly as she jogged to the net and threw her arms around Jay. Sadie barely had time to feel even a twinge of jealously that someone else got the first sweaty hug before Jay broke free and sprinted toward their corner of the court. Sadie leaned over the sidewall, laughing as she expected Jay to run right up to the scoreboard they were sitting over so she’d be able to shout down her congratulations, but as Jay approached, she hurdled the low, green wall around the court. Hair disheveled, skin flushed, she climbed through the crowd until she sprang onto the roof of the press box. Then it was just a small hop down into Sadie’s arms.

  Either oblivious to the camera lenses or merely unconcerned by them, she wrapped one arm around Sadie’s waist, tipped her back slightly, and planted a kiss right on her mouth.

  The crowd gasped, and then from the sound of things, many of them cheered. Sadie didn’t have the wherewithal to count voices with all the sensory overload she was experiencing. The scent of sweat and sandalwood, the taste of salt on parched lips, the press of hard muscles against her once more, and the crowd of thousands disappeared. For a glorious moment, Jay was there again, and there was only Jay.

  Much too soon, Jay eased back, still clutching her tightly and said, “You wanted me to fight for you. How was that for a start?”

  She laughed. “A start? Yes, I suppose that was a pretty good one.”

  Jay made a show of glancing around at all the cameras being thrust into their personal space, and her smile faltered slightly. “There will be more fights ahead. For all of us.”

  “We’re ready,” Sadie said, then turned to Hank, Peggy, and Des.

  Jay raised an eyebrow toward Des.

  “Yeah. Well, I mean, you hurt her and I will not hesitate to hit you with more than a serve, but the rest of it all—” she shrugged and gave a half-smile— “my mom raised a fighter.”

  Jay reached out to give her a fist bump that must have been captured by every camera in the stadium, because the gesture sent up another round of applause.

  “What about me?” Peggy held out her fist. “Can I get my photo taken with the newest Wimbledon semifinalist?”

  Jay stuck out her fist again. Then, as if the words had just sunk in, her eyes went wide and she repeated the word “semifinalist.”

  Hank laughed and yanked her into a bear hug. “Yes, semifinalist, and I’ve already got some video files I want you to look at. Oh and also a new serve drill I want you to try, though I don’t know how you’re going to top this celebration. You know at Wimbledon it’s traditional to jump into the crowd only after you’ve won the whole damn thing?”

  Jay laughed and turned back to meet Sadie’s eyes once more as she said, “I won everything that matters.”

  Epilogue

  US Open Doubles Finals— New York

  “You want to sleep with the trophy tonight?” Jay asked Des, as they finally left the ballroom of whatever hotel the WTA had rented for the U.S.A. finalists and winners to celebrate in. And by celebrate, they clearly meant mingle with sponsors, because that’s all they’d done for hours. Or maybe days. Jay wasn’t certain anymore, not of the date, not of the time, and not of who all she’d spoken to during this endless event. Hell, she only knew which city they were in because the trophy she had crooked under her arm had US Open Doubles Champion inscribed on the big silver cup.

  “Yeah,” Des said dreamily. “I kind of do. It’s becoming a post-tournament tradition.”

  Jay smiled at the fact that they’d won enough tournaments to build traditions. Two majors in one year with a handful of other minor victories in between. Four out of six of the warm-ups for the US Open alone. Not that she was counting. Except she was totally counting, all the wins she could get. Though, admittedly, her definition of “win” had changed a lot in the two months since Wimbledon.

  As if on cue, she felt Sadie’s hand slip into her own. The sensation had become a familiar comfort over the months of press conferences and intimate interviews, and even a couple of sessions with a professional biographer. She’d answered more questions about her life in the last few weeks than she’d answered in the three decades leading up to them, and the only way she’d found the fortitude to push on was that every time the urge to run pulsed through her, Sadie’s hand, steady and strong, held her rooted right where she needed to be.

  “Are we taking this party back to our room?” Sadie asked Hank as he fell in beside them.

  “I’m going to bed,” Des grumbled, grabbing the trophy from Jay. “And if there are any parties in your room tonight, I don’t want to know about them.”

  Hank snorted.

  Jay gave Sadie’s hand a little squeeze. The transition from single mom to mom-dating-your-doubles-partner hadn’t always gone smoothly, but even amid the awkwardness, Destiny had stuck to her promise to put Sadie’s happiness above her own. And as the chaos and scrutiny that had once t
errified them gradually became their new normal, Des’s wry sense of humor had emerged as a coping skill.

  They arrived at the elevator and piled inside before Sadie pushed their button and said, “Well, maybe we’ll all have a more subdued celebration over breakfast tomorrow. There’s a place down by the—”

  “No,” everyone else said in unison, and Sadie laughed.

  The sound rolled over Jay like the warm water of a long shower after their exhausting three-set match earlier in the day.

  “Fine.” Sadie chuckled as the elevator door opened. “Everyone can sleep in tomorrow, but you guys are going to have to let me have a party or something at some point, because I’m the proud mom and the proud girlfriend, and that’s a lot of proud to contain in one body.”

  “Goodnight, Sadie,” Hank said happily. “I’m not the mom or the girlfriend, but for what it’s worth, I’m proud too, and not just about what you guys did on the court. I mean, mostly the court, but the other stuff too.”

  “Goodnight, Hank,” Des said with a quick hug. “We love you, too.”

  He smiled and wandered off down the hall.

  “And goodnight to you,” Des said to Jay. “Don’t forget we owe Peggy dinner before leaving New York.”

  “Pretty sure she’s not going to let me forget,” Jay said. “It’s the first thing she said when she hugged me at the net today.”

  “And that was before she had to stand there and watch all the big bank people hand us that check for $700,000,” Des said.

  “I hope she orders a filet mignon and washes it down with a bottle of Dom Perignon,” Sadie said, almost gleefully. “You can afford it.”

  “Thanks to you,” Jay said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

  “No, thanks to your skill.” Sadie kissed her back.

  “No, thanks to my skill,” Des said, then held up the big silver cup in front of her face. “But don’t kiss me.”

  “Okay, I’ll kiss her again,” Jay said, then planted another dramatic smooch on Sadie’s cheek.

  Des sighed heavily. “I can’t wait until you guys are out of the schmoopy stage.”

  Sadie ducked around the trophy and kissed her daughter on the temple. “You should see what we’re like when you’re not around.”

  Des grimaced and backed away. “And on that note, my room is all the way at the other end of the hall.”

  “Goodnight, honey.”

  “Yes,” Jay added. “Goodnight, honey.”

  “Goodnight, Mom,” Des called, then added, “goodnight, Not-My-Mom.”

  Sadie rested her head on Jay’s shoulder as they watched her go. “She’s doing okay, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Jay said, a little wonderstruck by it all. “I think so.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “You’ve had a lot more to do with it than I have.”

  “That’s true,” Sadie said lightly, “but I don’t know how I would have gotten her through the last two months without you.”

  “You would have found a way.”

  “Maybe,” Sadie said, then kissed her again. “But I’m sure glad I didn’t have to do it alone.”

  Jay turned to face her. “Me too.”

  “I spent so many years proving I could do it all on my own. It seems silly now, but I can hardly remember why I felt like sharing parts of me with someone else, or sharing her with someone else, would mean there was less love to go around.”

  Jay nodded thoughtfully. “At least you had her. I wouldn’t let myself love anyone. I pushed away every person who even tried to love me for years. I wouldn’t even let my friends get close until you came along.”

  “And now?” Sadie asked hopefully, as she used the key card to open their room.

  “And now I have a family. It’s an unconventional family, but it’s our family. And I love every piece of it.”

  Sadie opened the door to their room and tugged her inside, but a sudden thought made Jay halt in the door frame. Sadie turned, her eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

  “I just realized tennis had the answer for me all along.”

  “How so?”

  “Because no matter what the final score will be, every win gets its start with the same advice. I’d just never listened to it until you came along.”

  Sadie cocked her head to the side. “What advice?”

  Jay smiled and wrapped her arm around her waist. “Love, all.”

  Acknowledgments

  Normally when I write books about exciting subjects far from my own life experiences, I issue a silly disclaimer like, “I am not a tennis star; I just play one in a book.” These statements are generally made tongue-in-cheek, as anyone who has seen me repeatedly net backhands at the local parks can verify that I am a long way from the professional tour. However, over the last few years I have been drawn increasingly close to the world of tennis. My son, Jackson, has taken to this sport I had never played, and I have learned to love it through his eyes. I have also learned to love it as a parent who sees the game challenging my child to reach beyond his comfort zone, to grow stronger, to build stamina, and to develop a mental fortitude the likes of which no other sport has demanded of him. I have enjoyed every minute of learning the ins and outs and cultural norms of this new world, even though they have often left me feeling helpless as I sit on the sidelines. I have both thrilled and cringed at the rules about not coaching (or even talking) during matches, leaving the game to be navigated almost solely by those on the court and independent of who’s in the stands. In short, I may not be a tennis star, but I have certainly become a tennis mom, and those experiences have helped me tremendously when writing this book. So, thank you to the wide world of the USTA and the small world of Western New York tennis. I would especially like to thank Jane Gens for being the best coach we could ever ask for. In addition, I am grateful to the Chautauqua Tennis Club, the Fredonia High School tennis team, and all the wonderful local players and coaches who have given their time and energy to help bring our family up to speed and give these characters a touch of authenticity. Then a wonderful crew of copy editors and proofreaders including Cara, Rebecca, Ann, Marcie, Caroline, and Susie served as my powerful and last line of defense against the horror of typos in the final draft. I thank them all endlessly!

  I also want to thank my Bywater family. As usual, Salem West, Marianne K. Martin, Kelly Smith, and Ann McMan were a joy to work with, despite the fact that I came in a little close to the wire with this one. Special thanks goes, once again, to Ann McMan for the awesome cover that not only speaks to the intensity of my main character, but also showcases a real athlete with a real athletic body.

  I am blessed to again have a diverse group of people to lean heavily on when trying to make this book everything I want it to be. Longtime friend and beta reader Barb Dallinger asked some great questions that helped me focus some points about the intricate world of tennis travel instead of just guessing. Toni and Tosh were open and honest with me about tackling details outside of my own life experiences with authenticity. I don’t know that I would have written this book without knowing I could trust them to do so. Lynda Sandoval, my editor and awesome friend, offered wonderful insights laced with challenges to not take the easy way out.

  I also want to thank the people who contribute to my work in ways that are harder to quantify, but no less important. I have the best writing support group in Georgia Beers, Melissa Brayden, and Nikki Smalls. I am also spurred onward and upward by every reader who has ever bought, read, reviewed, or offered feedback on my work. Writing can be lonely sometimes, but knowing there are people out there waiting for the next book helps keep my head in the game and my butt in the chair.

  And speaking of people who keep me going through good times and bad, I am tremendously blessed to share my life with the two best teammates and tennis partners in the world. Jackie, thank you for showing me new ways to find joy every day. This book wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t given me the chance to be your tennis mom. Susie, I know I bring d
own your average on the court, but I hope I contribute in other ways, and I pray you always know how much I appreciate your unending love and support, come what may.

  Finally, I want to acknowledge that every blessing in my life is born from the love of my creator, redeemer and sanctifier. Soli Deo Gloria.

  About the Author

  Rachel Spangler never set out to be an award-winning author. She was just so poor during her college years that she had to come up with creative ways to entertain herself, and her first novel, Learning Curve, was born out of one such attempt. She was sincerely surprised when it was accepted for publication and even more shocked when it won the Golden Crown Literary Award for Debut Author. She also won a Goldie for subsequent novels Trails Merge and Perfect Pairings. Since writing is more fun than a real job and so much cheaper than therapy, Rachel continued to type away, leading to the publication of The Long Way Home, LoveLife, Spanish Heart, Does She Love You, Timeless, Heart of the Game, Perfect Pairing, Close to Home, Edge of Glory, In Development, and Love All. She is a three-time Lambda Literary Award Finalist and the 2018 Alice B. Reader Award winner. She plans to continue writing as long as anyone, anywhere, will keep reading.

  Rachel and her partner, Susan, are raising their son in Western New York, where during the winter they make the most of the lake-effect snow on local ski slopes. In the summer, they love to travel and watch their beloved St. Louis Cardinals. Regardless of the season, she always makes time for a good romance, whether she’s reading it, writing it, or living it.

  For more information, visit Rachel online at www.rachelspangler.com or on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.