Serious Potential

by Maggie Cummings

  “Nope.” Betsy didn’t seem the least bit unsettled by Tracy’s probing questions. “That is a closed book,” she added demonstratively.

  “My condolences over your breakup.” Tracy grinned from ear to ear. She looked down in mock gravity and nodded sagely. “But it is possible your not having a girlfriend is a good thing—”

  The sound of Betsy’s phone ringing interrupted her. Betsy put up one finger, signaling that Tracy should hold her thought. She answered the phone and Tracy watched as Betsy listened, then looked at her watch and tilted her gaze up and to the right as she calculated something in her head. She asked some questions about levels and results, and then she stopped whoever she was talking to by telling them she would be there as soon as possible. She turned to Tracy.

  “Sorry.” She half frowned. “Duty calls.” Betsy waved her phone in the air and started backing down the street. “Do me a favor and tell those guys I had to go.”

  Tracy nodded and smiled to herself as she watched Betsy jog down the street into the distance. With a little bounce in her step she headed back into the dark bar, not at all discouraged by the course their conversation had taken. Tracy found her friends and explained Betsy had been called into work. She got herself a fresh drink and returned to the group with a paper flyer she ripped off the wall, thrusting it into Meg’s face and looking serious as hell.

  “Tell me we are doing this.”

  *

  The Bay West Shuffleboard Social was something of legend at the development. An annual event held on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, it combined a shuffleboard tournament with a day-long party that turned into a social by evening. It was campy and ridiculous and Meg absolutely loved it.

  Since the moment Tracy spotted the flyer she hadn’t stopped talking about it. Meg should have realized from the get-go that with Tracy around she’d be strong-armed into playing, and while in theory she wasn’t against participating, the tournament was a little intense for her liking and she was less than thrilled to ruin such a good day by being bogged down in matches. She’d had a blast the previous year dividing her time between watching some of the games and bopping around the party. There was great music, good food, and tons of girls. What more could a single lesbian ask for?

  Sometime after noon, Meg was still in boxer shorts and a T-shirt flipping over her French toast at the stove, when Tracy burst through the front door sweaty from her run.

  “You’re just getting up?” Tracy asked tersely.

  “I’ve been up for a while,” Meg retorted. “Read the paper, had some coffee. Watched a little porn. Not in that order, mind you,” she added offhandedly while reaching for some strawberries in the fridge. “But all in all, I’d say I’ve accomplished quite a bit already this morning,” she said, returning to the stove with a playful grin.

  “Jesus, I hope you didn’t expend all your energy on yourself.” Tracy grabbed a cold water from the fridge.

  “Me? You went running.”

  “You should have come with me. Loosened up a little.”

  “Oh, I’m loose.” Meg flashed a devilish grin. Seeing Tracy was less than amused, Meg breathed out melodramatically. “You have to chill.” She pointed at her breakfast. “You want some?”

  Tracy looked at her in disbelief at her offer.

  Meg answered with bewilderment of her own. “What? It has fruit on it.”

  “And sugar. And syrup, which is just more sugar.”

  Meg sat down at the breakfast bar with her plate, noisily reaching for silverware. “Trace.” She waited for her friend to make eye contact before she continued. “You have to promise you’re not going to be a baby all day after we lose.”

  Tracy looked unbelievably serious sitting across from her as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Why do you think we’re going to lose?”

  “Promise.” Meg made the demand with her fork raised in the air, half a strawberry hanging from its tines.

  There was a second of tense silence as they locked eyes. Finally Tracy relented, breaking into a full smile. “Okay. I promise.” She got up from her stool. “Geez, a little optimism wouldn’t kill you.” She headed for the stairs. “Now hurry up and get ready. I want to go over early and scout the competition.”

  Meg shook her head as she chewed. With her mouth still full, she called after Tracy, “You have problems.”

  She heard Tracy open the linen closet at the top of the stairs as she sing-songed her response. “I am completely aware of that.”

  *

  At two fifteen, the setup was in full swing. Meg sat on the makeshift bleachers that had been arranged around the painted concrete courts and watched as Tracy sized up various women breaking into teams and sneaking a few practice slides in. Meg recognized most of them from her neighborhood. She couldn’t have cared less about their shuffleboard skills.

  She turned her attention instead to the DJ arranging his outdoor booth with piles of colorful leis and other giveaways for the spectators who were slowly dribbling in. The development had its own merch stand set up just outside the court area with loads of Bay West swag for sale—sweatshirts, T-shirts, beer mugs, bumper stickers, key chains, and more. Meg had to hand it to Kam Browne, the woman knew how to capitalize on an idea. From a business perspective, there was very little she didn’t squeeze a dime from. Meg’s eyes drifted over to one of the two outdoor bars—she’d witnessed several people sipping frozen daiquiris as they passed by, and she made the decision right then and there to get one, figuring the alcohol might alleviate some of her edginess over the impending cutthroat competition.

  She walked back to the court area armed with a frothy piña colada and addressed Tracy’s look of judgment immediately.

  “Relax, dude.” Meg found the straw with her lips and took a long sip. “If my pool playing skills are anything to go by, you want me half in the bag. Trust me.”

  Tracy gave a deep sigh of disapproval but Meg was saved a full-on lecture by the arrival of Betsy, who approached them with a gorgeous blonde in tow. Knowing Tracy had yet to meet her, Meg was quick with the introduction.

  “Tracy, this is Allison Smith, she works with Jesse. Allison, this is Tracy. She’s visiting from California.”

  Allison looked Tracy up and down, inspecting her for only a fraction of a second before proclaiming, “Hey, you’re Tracy Allen. The golfer.” She spoke with an air of confidence in her discovery.

  The other girls turned to Allison, their faces expressing unified shock at >über-girly Allison recognizing an obscure athlete. She met their blank stares with her signature no-holds-barred attitude.

  “What?” She raised her eyebrows at the group. “I can’t follow sports?” She jutted her jaw out a little, calling them all out. “Because I’m femme?” She flicked her perfectly highlighted blond hair over each shoulder, and opened her eyes wide for continued emphasis. “Stereotype much?” She finished her tongue-in-cheek quip with a big smile and stuck her hand toward Tracy.

  Tracy smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you.”

  A minute later Lexi and her sister Andrea joined the group, excited to play the tournament together as they did every year. Their arrival split the group in two and Allison took the opportunity to speak to Tracy again.

  “I watched your round with Michelle Varga at the Classico Challenge two years ago. You almost beat her.” She licked her lips. “You had some really beautiful swings that day.”

  “Thank you,” Tracy answered sincerely. “Were you there?”

  “No, I watched it on Golf Network.”

  Tracy couldn’t hide her surprise. “Wow, I didn’t even know it was televised.”

  “It was shown in a late-night spot.” Allison looked like she felt bad telling Tracy the truth, but she continued anyway. “On delay.” She clutched her purse with both hands. “Sometimes I have trouble sleeping,” she admitted.

  “Well, golf will certainly help with that,” Meg joked, eliciting snickers from the girls and an elbow to the ribs from Tracy.

&nb
sp; “Are you playing?” Tracy asked Allison.

  She scrunched up her nose. “Purely a spectator.” Eyeing Meg’s drink, she added, “That looks up my alley, though.”

  Tracy turned her attention to Betsy and made direct eye contact with her for the first time since she’d arrived. “What about you, Betsy? No shuffleboard?”

  “No partner.” Betsy cocked her head to the side, in the direction of Allison. “You heard the woman.”

  “Play with me.” Tracy held Betsy’s gaze.

  Betsy was taken aback and gestured toward Meg. “I thought…” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Isn’t Meg your partner?”

  “She is,” Tracy answered. “But I’m practically forcing her.” She looked over at Meg. “She’s only doing it because she’s an awesome friend and she felt bad saying no to me.”

  Betsy checked Meg’s face to assess the truthfulness of Tracy’s statement. Meg looked right at her, thrilled at the possibility of being relieved. “Be my guest.”

  “You sure?” Betsy asked Meg.

  “Absolutely.”

  Tracy clapped her hands together. “Great, it’s settled then.”

  Meg wagged her index finger up in the air in warning. “Betsy, you should know what you’re getting into. Tracy does not adjust well to losing.”

  “Who says we’re losing?” Betsy responded, without missing a beat.

  Tracy bent her knees and clenched both of her hands in a small cheer. “Oh my God, you are perfect.” She looked at Meg. “You have so been replaced.”

  Meg shook her head playfully. “Come on, Al, let’s get some drinks before we watch these novices get schooled by a bunch of old ladies.”

  With that the group splintered again. Tracy and Betsy headed off to find Kam Browne and notify her of the change while Meg and Allison went to the bar before securing good seats.

  Armed with ice-cold beverages, they settled down near the center court on the first row of the bleachers, giving them easy access for replenishments and also the opportunity to get up and chat with friends as they saw them coming in throughout the day. Meg spent the afternoon watching and not watching, which was just how she liked it. She got a chance to talk to Jesse, who arrived late in the day, and together they watched as Lexi and her sister were eliminated by Del and Aimee, a couple in their early sixties who lived around the block.

  As the sun began to set, Meg leaned against the fence and caught sight of a pale brunette in the distance. She wished it was Sasha even though she knew it wasn’t. The distant stranger didn’t even really look like her. But Meg couldn’t help but wonder who Sasha was with right now and what she might be doing. They had talked about weekend plans over lunch on Thursday, so Meg knew she was somewhere in the city, spending time with Jane-Anne and the gang. As always, Meg had toyed with the idea of inviting her to the social, but didn’t. It wasn’t because she was afraid Sasha would say no. Actually the opposite was true. She thought she would say yes. And then Sasha would be here at Bay West with Meg. But not with Meg. And that was a reality she was not ready to face.

  Several drinks in, she reached for her phone, full of rum-infused courage, and almost dialed. She stopped when she heard a familiar voice over the sound system and turned around to see Lexi and her sister in the DJ booth announcing the semifinals were under way. She had to laugh at her friends, who had commandeered the microphone and were presently giving a full-fledged running commentary on the match, which featured their parents—Chris and Marnie—against none other than Tracy and Betsy. Meg put her phone away and rushed to get a better view.

  It was a nail-biter. The two teams were shot for shot, point for point, giving up scoring opportunities to knock each other’s best discs out of the way. It was definitely tense but also hilarious to watch, as Lexi continued narrating throughout. Because she knew all four competitors so well, she inserted humor at every chance. They played up the age difference between the teams with Lexi telling her moms not to worry about the outcome because they might be able to protest the match due to Tracy’s status as a professional athlete. This led to a very funny back and forth between the sisters about the legitimacy of golf as a bona fide athletic event. The crowd was in stitches, and even Tracy laughed when she missed a pivotal scoring opportunity.

  Meg studied her two friends playing as a team. They seemed to fit together amazingly well. She saw Tracy place small touches on Betsy’s back and arms, more than was really necessary, as they discussed shots and strategy. Betsy didn’t seem to mind, and she sought Tracy’s input before each turn, finishing with high-fives after every point. Near the end of the match, on a very tricky turn that could have been the game winner for Tracy and Betsy, Betsy called Tracy over. They assessed the shot together with Tracy standing behind Betsy, her hand on Betsy’s hip as she utilized a hand-over-hand illustration, presumably to demonstrate the amount of pressure she should use. It was pretty hot looking and Meg was fairly sure she wasn’t the only one in the audience who thought they might kiss before they broke apart and Betsy sailed the game-winning disc down the length of the deck. Even Lexi was speechless.

  The crowd erupted in cheers. Tracy picked Betsy up and spun her around.

  They moved on to the final round where they faced Del and Aimee, the returning champions who had knocked out Lexi and her sister earlier in the day. Betsy and Tracy put up a good fight, but they were no match for the seasoned couple. Tracy was surprisingly good-natured about the loss as they rejoined their friends afterward.

  “Way to go, guys.” Jesse was the first to congratulate them. “Second place. Nicely done.”

  Tracy smiled and looked at Meg, who was not surprised at all. She nodded at Tracy’s hand, which held a small off-white envelope. “What’d ya get?”

  “Gift certificate. To”—she paused, pulling out the slip of paper inside—“Lombardo’s.” She slid the voucher back into the envelope and handed it to Betsy.

  “No way.” Betsy waved her off as she took a really long chug of the draft beer Allison had handed to her. “You should take it. You totally carried us at the end.”

  “I don’t even know where it is.”

  “It’s just down the block,” Allison offered, sounding more than a little hopeful her two cents might earn an invite from Tracy.

  Tracy kept her attention on Betsy. “Let’s go together. Celebrate our near victory.”

  “Okay.” Betsy smiled.

  As the night cooled off, the party moved inside the Commons where they all drank, danced, and said good-bye to one more summer.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I still can’t believe you guys almost won the shuffleboard tournament.” Lexi wiped her mouth with a napkin as she sat at Meg’s kitchen table. She took another bite of the grilled chicken and avocado wrap Tracy had prepared for their dinner. “This is so good, by the way.”

  Meg was busy wolfing down her food, so she couldn’t immediately agree. She was already loving everything about this night. Her two closest buds, some good-natured gossip, and great food. Swallowing quickly she added, “Who knew you were so good in the kitchen?”

  “You’re letting me stay here, the least I can do is cook,” Tracy said with a wink.

  “Did you ever go out to dinner with Betsy?” Lexi asked through another mouthful.

  “No.” Tracy twisted her mouth to the side a little. “We’ve been texting back and forth for a while now. Scheduling issues,” she said with an eyebrow raise. “Obviously not mine,” she added. “I’ve got nothing but free time.”

  “Here’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Lexi said between bites. “Did anything happen with you and Allison that night?”

  Meg perked up with interest to see Tracy’s answer. Even though she was pretty sure nothing had transpired, despite Allison’s clear desire, Meg had been pretty tanked by the end of the social, so it was possible she had missed something.

  Tracy shook the question off immediately. “Not at all.”

  Lexi licked her lips and reached f
or her fork. “She was macking it to you pretty hard.” She made the statement matter-of-factly as she stabbed at her spinach salad, pinning a few baby leaves before she slid the fork into her mouth.

  Meg loved that her two closest confidantes had hit it off so easily. She assessed Tracy’s body language as she waited for her response to the nonquestion Lexi had laid out.

  Tracy just smiled. “Who is she again?” she asked, before rephrasing the question right away. “I mean, how does she fit in with you guys?” She swirled her wrap in a circle to indicate she meant Meg and Lexi and the larger group of friends, as well.

  “She’s a lawyer at Jesse’s firm,” Lexi offered.

  Meg expounded. “Lexi used to intern for her.” Lexi nodded agreement and Meg blurted out an idea that had just come to her. “You know, Trace, that may be the way to go.”

  Tracy flashed her dark eyes at Meg with a hint of suspicion, but Meg put her hand up to silence her for a second. “I’m just saying. I know you’re into Betsy and all, but if you are looking for a quick hookup, something to help get you over your ex, Allison might be the answer. She’s obviously into you.” Meg put down her sandwich. “And Betsy”—she breathed out audibly—“Betsy can be complicated.”

  Tracy glanced down at her mostly empty plate. “Thanks for the tip,” she said tersely. “By the way, what’s up with you and Reina?” she challenged Meg with some zing in her voice. “I saw you talking during shuffleboard. Still convinced there’s nothing there?”

  Meg picked up on Tracy’s curt tone right away. “Don’t get mad at me, Trace. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go for Betsy.” She reached across the table and grabbed Tracy’s tanned forearm. “Dude, I support whoever you date. Or fuck. Or whatever.” She let go of her arm. “I’m on Team Tracy, okay?”

  Tracy’s expression softened, reading the sincerity in Meg’s eyes. “I know.” She pushed her plate to the center of the table. “Seriously though, about Reina. That girl is into you. It’s all over her body language. And she’s hot. What’s the problem?”