Page 61 of The Pickleball Girl Finds Her Match

Valentina’s eyebrows drew together. “I really hope you’re able to keep the program going.”

Endy shrugged and sighed, “Anything can happen, right?”

Valentina nodded. “Anything can happen.”

The regular Whisper Hills group of pickleball players milled about, an undulating sea of various shades of gray and white hair atop smiling wrinkled faces. The news traveled fast within the group of old retirees, and they were well aware of the formal complaint submitted to the board of directors. All of them came out in support of Picklers, and also to embrace the possible last days of pickleball at Whisper Hills.

Endy mixed between the groups, pausing to hug and thank them for coming. She stopped beside The Grands, who couldn’t resist hugging her longer than necessary. A plump woman with gray hair tucked under a hot-pink bucket hat laughed with Candi and Earlene while Nora flirted with a well-toned, very tan, older man with a full head of white hair combed back in a ponytail.

“Hi there,” said Endy, approaching with her hand outstretched. “I haven’t met you yet. Are you Inez, the one who called and signed up yesterday?”

“No, no, I’m Sharon,” she replied. “Candi’s sister from Oregon. I’m just visiting and cheering her on. And to be honest, this whole pickleball sport looks like a ton of fun. I’m thinking about taking one of your clinics.” She smiled.

Candi elbowed her sister. “Shush! I told you that our pickleball program here at the club may get shut down. Don’t make Endy feel any worse about it!”

Sharon colored and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” replied Endy. “We’re just going to keep going until we hear that we can’t anymore.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sharon said. “Goodness sakes, why would they even consider shutting down pickle—”

“PICKLEBALL IS LIFE!” yelled George Jacobs as he pushed into the tent, navigating a stroller containing three yapping black and brown Chihuahuas. “Hoody hoo!”

The many Whisper Hills members loudly cheered in response, sending the Chihuahuas into a frenzy inside the stroller, causing it to tip over. Dumped from their enclosure, the dogs quickly darted away, weaving in and out of the legs of the crowd and causing a gray-haired man to tip back into the table holding bins of bright green plastic balls, which then scattered throughout the tent and rolled down and out across the lawn.

Choking back a laugh, Endy shook her head. “I have no idea why.”

Endy picked up a clipboard and scanned the names. The ten late registrants had yet to arrive and pay their entry fee, which made Endy nervous.

“Maria, do you think everyone is here?”

“Yeah, everyone’s here.”

Endy scanned the crowd in the tent. “But what about that senior player who signed up late yesterday?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” said Maria as she sipped a white-peach-flavored energy drink.

“You know, the lady who is bringing four of her friends,” reminded Endy. “Her name is Inez.”

“Yeah, I told you they’re here. They just have to pay.”

Endy pulled out her phone from her pocket to check the time. Matches were set to start in a half hour and if the late registrants weren’t ready, some of the Picklers kids would be left waiting on the courts. It would be a horrible way to start the fundraiser. Endy gnawed at her thumbnail.

“Next!” Maria hollered. She crooked her finger at a tall twenty-something woman with two knotted braids on top of her head and huge square mirrored sunglasses obscuring most of her face. Her lips glimmered with gloss, and the scent of coconut sunblock hung in the air.

“Hey, you guys ready?” asked Maria.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” she said and turned to the four girls behind her. Wearing vivid-colored cropped tank tops and short-short skirts, they smiled wide with their full lips outlined in bright shades that matched their clothing. She called out, “Morgan, come up here!”

A young woman with a long blond braid hanging almost to her waist put her quilted backpack on the ground, dug through the interior, then pulled out a soft leather wallet. She approached the registration table.

“This is for me, Morgan,” she said, patting her chest. She withdrew two $100 bills, but as if on second thought, took out another $100 bill and handed all of them to Maria. “Go ahead and keep the rest as a donation for the kids’ group.”

“Wow, that’s super generous. Thanks,” said Maria, tucking the bills into the cash box. She looked up at the other three girls standing behind Morgan. “You gals ready too?” Nodding, they approached the table holding their wallets, still laughing and chatting.

The noise in the tent amplified as five handsome and fit young men walked up behind the stunning girls, eliciting high-pitched screams and claps.

Pickleball paddles were laid down next to their colorful tote bags. Sweaters and pullovers with various logos made of penguins, horses, and alligators were tossed onto empty chairs. They all hugged each other, and everyone spoke at the same time, their words and laughter mixed together.

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