Page 13 of The Pickleball Girl Finds Her Match

“Do you need to go to the urgent care clinic?” asked Endy, following them off the court. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I can find someone to take you over to Eisenhower.”

“No, thanks though. This is an old injury that keeps haunting me. Unfortunately, I’m used to reinjuring it.” Sebastian lowered himself onto the bench. “I’ll just ice it for a bit, then I should be fine to get home and elevate it.” He shifted on the bench and then tilted his head up, looking at Endy with a small smile. His eyes held hers.

Endy felt her face redden. She bit at her lip and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, I guess if you’re really okay, I should get back to the shop.”

“Yeah, you should,” said Joel, his eyes narrowed. “And hey, since you’re going past court eleven, can you tell—”

“Actually, I’m not sure I can make it on my own to my car,” interrupted Sebastian. He looked up through his thick eyelashes at Endy. “Could you maybe help me out?” A perfect smile pulled at his lips, and Endy felt faint.

“Sebastian, I can help you get to your car,” volunteered Joel, eyeing them.

“That’s okay, Joel. I know you’re supposed to be teaching another lesson right now. She …” He looked from face to face.

“Endy,” she reminded him, trying to calm her pounding heart.

Sebastian smiled again. “Endy can help me.”

The golf cart was close enough that Sebastian could have hobbled there on his own, but he had insisted on putting his arm around Endy’s shoulders for support. She thought that she’d done the best she could in assisting him, even though she was already weak in her knees from just being near him. But once they’d maneuvered into the cart and her pounding heart had settled, Endy still had to grasp the steering wheel tightly to hide her shaking hands.

Endy’s cell phone rang, causing her to jump in her seat. She saw Sebastian bring his hand up to his mouth to hide a grin.

“Hey, Maria,” she said, smiling and putting her phone on speaker. “What’s up?” Endy turned on the golf cart and slowly pulled onto the gravel path.

“You’re not going to like this, but could you check on the pickleball courts?” asked Maria.

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Mr. Brewer just came in here yelling about the pickleballers next to his tennis court. He’s on court eight and—”

“… it’s right next to the pickleball courts.” Endy frowned. “I’m on my way.” She hung up her call and turned to Sebastian. “I have a bit of an emergency. Do you mind if we make a stop?”

“No problem. Let’s get over there,” said Sebastian, shaking his head. “Step on it, Lightning McQueen.”

Endy’s eyebrows rose and she smiled. She floored the accelerator, the surge throwing Sebastian back into his seat. He burst out laughing and grabbed hold of the armrest. Endy laughed too and took a sharp corner. “Youtoldme to step on it.”

They arrived just as an argument broke out between two middle-aged men who stood on the strip of lawn between the pickleball and tennis courts.

“Keep that goddamn stupid wiffle ball on your own court!” yelled Marty Brewer.

“Jesus, Marty, calm down.”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down. I’m sick and tired of our tennis games getting interrupted by all of your foolishness. It’s not just the incessant noise anymore. Now that you all are encroaching on our tennis courts, we have to deal with these stupid plastic balls stopping our play.”

Endy left Sebastian sitting in the golf cart and ran toward Marty and George. She lifted her hands up, palms out, and patted at the air. “Hey, you two. Can I help out here?”

“Oh, Endy,” said Marty, exasperated. “This pickleball thing is just ruining everything.”

George interrupted and said with sarcasm, “Ohhh,pickleball is just ruining everything.Marty, just slither out of the ice age and get used to the idea that pickleball is getting more popular than tennis.”

Endy saw Marty grit his teeth and his face turn red.

“Okay, okay. Can someone tell me what’s happened?” she asked.

George stepped forward and gestured at the pickleball court where three other players stood uncomfortably. “We were on game point, Terry popped up a dink, I hit a flawless overhead slam which bounced high and sent the ball over the fence and onto their court.” He glanced at Marty. “Simple mistake.”

“Not so simple when it was the third time it happened in an hour!” yelled Marty. “We had match point, and as I served, this stupid ball bounced onto our court.” He threw the bright green plastic ball at George, hitting him on the forehead. “I’m over this. Something’s got to be done.” Marty stormed away. “Somethingwillbe done,” he said over his shoulder.

George wiggled his head and rolled his eyes. And then he raised both hands and slowly flipped up his middle fingers to Marty’s retreating back.

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