Page 69 of Game Point
Or perhaps a better question: could I sit back and watch somebody else win, wondering to myself if that trophy could’ve been mine?
I looked around the yard, an ice-cold ginger beer in my hand, and watched as Oliver held one of my nieces upside down, rocking her from side to side as she screamed excitedly. The sun was gone, dusk setting in.
‘I think he might have a new fan.’ Lennon sat down beside me, her eyes trained on her youngest daughter. Oliver placed her down on the ground but immediately Ava was up, shouting for ‘uppies’.
He looked over at me, the exhaustion clear across his face but his smile never fading. I had no sympathy for that man. If I could withstand his killer coaching sessions, he could survive this four-year-old.
‘At least he will tire her out.’
‘Good. Sometimes it feels like that child has an endless supply of energy.’
I held back a laugh as my other nieces ran out from the kitchen, heading straight into Oliver and rugby tackling him to the floor. The future was truly in their hands.
Laughing, I turned back to my sister. ‘Are you raising these girls to join the Wallaroos? Because if so, I’m on board.’
‘I always thought rugby was more interesting.’ She took a sip of her beer, moving a little closer to the firepit we had lit.
‘Our sister-fights did prepare me better for a full-contact sport.’
She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Pity you picked a boring one.’
‘Tennis is not boring,’ I defended, but it was useless. This was a war that had been raging far longer than this conversation.
‘What’s next for you?’ Lennon asked, sitting back on her chair. ‘With the big retirement.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘No big plans?’
‘None.’ It felt weird, uncomfortable even, to not know what was coming next. I’d always known, my life dictated by whatever tournament was next, whatever great plan the coach I was working with had come up with.
Now, nothing.
‘It will be good to see you around a little more,’ Lennon said.
I gasped. ‘Did you miss your baby sister?’
‘No,’ she said, her expression flat. ‘But the girls could use a fun aunt.’
‘That is true,’ I said, ‘I am far more fun.’
‘Or at least bring Oliver. They seem to like him,’ she added. I tried to ignore the small wound in my heart. I knew eventually he’d have to leave. The thought of him going, leaving me here.
Not to mention, I’d starve to death without his assistance in the kitchen.
‘Yeah, he’s not so bad.’ I looked over my shoulder, Oliver lying flat on the ground as three young children used him as a trampoline.
Get him girls.
‘It’s good to see you happy,’ Lennon said. ‘Mum’s always yapping on about you. Worrying about how you’re doing. She watches every match you know?’
‘Really?’
‘Wimbledon really fucks up her sleep schedule. She practically lives on BST when it’s on. They throw this big party for the final.’ I tried not to show my surprise. I’d never known they went all out like that. My eyebrows creased, thinking of how disappointed they must have been every time I stumbled, every time I lost. ‘And win or lose, we are all really proud of you. I hope you know that.’
My hands clenched, her words catching me off guard. I managed two words through a hoarse voice. ‘Thank you.’
Lennon’s hand reached mine, as she looked straight at me. ‘And you should be proud of yourself.’
