Love Game - Season 2012 (2 page)

Sasha Mrachova took a last look into the
bathroom mirror. The glass was old and murky, and she was grateful for it.

The house was silent. Everyone in her
family was still sleeping. Everyone but her father, who was down in the kitchen
pretending to clear up from last night’s festivities. Sasha knew that he just
wanted to hug her for a last time before she left. When she came down he had
already made her a cup of coffee. They silently drank from their cups, then
Sasha got up and put on her jacket.

“Take care,” her father said when she
stepped to the door. “Don’t try too hard.”

She nodded, swallowing down the big lump
that was creeping up her throat. The wind blew a cloud of snowflakes into the
house entrance when she opened the door. Pulling her light jacket tighter,
Sasha shivered as she stepped out of the entrance of her parents’ house into
the knee-deep snow.

“Wait,” her father said, winking at her.
Sasha smiled. She knew what was to come. Her father pulled out a little glass
bottle and stuffed it into Sasha’s racquet bag. The best bootlegged
Slivovice
you could find in the world. He liked gestures more than words. Then he patted
her on the shoulder and went back into the kitchen.

In the street a cab was already waiting,
and Sasha waved at the driver to come to the door. She had several huge bags
she would take to Australia. Sasha was glad she had ordered the cab half an
hour earlier than usual. Soon the traffic would press down the snow and turn
the roads of her beautiful hometown into skating rinks. Swearing under his
breath the driver hauled her suitcases into the trunk of the car and Sasha
pulled her scarf tighter. She had wrapped it all around her head, covering her
mouth and nose.

Actually, Sasha was grateful for the cold
weather, as it meant that completely wrapping her head like this didn’t look so
ridiculous. However, as soon as she was sitting in the back of the cab, her
thoughts began to race. Passport control would be tricky, she thought. They
wouldn’t let her through with the scarf around her head. Not even if she told
them who she was. She just had to be really quick, Sasha resolved. Let them
take a look at her face and then she would put the scarf on again. She could
cough a little, so nobody would wonder why she was wearing it on the plane.
Yes, that was a good idea. Besides, the flight would be alright, Sasha thought.
She had booked a whole row in first class, so nobody would be sitting next to
her.

While the cab bashed its way through the
snow Sasha’s cell phone purred. Jaro had written her a text wishing her good
luck. He had turned from obnoxious necessity into a real friend. Her only
friend, Sasha sometimes thought. And he wasn’t as featherbrained as his buff
body indicated. He came up with good concepts from time to time. The Christmas
pictures of herself and Jaro sitting behind a huge pile of presents with only
their eyes looking over them had been a clever idea to disguise the fact that
her nose still looked swollen from the surgery she had to have after the double
fracture. It was still swollen. At least Sasha thought it was. Everyone else
seemed to overlook her big nose or nobody dared to mention it. But the Czech
knew it was there.

On Boxing Day she withdrew from the
Brisbane tournament. Or rather she just didn’t show up for it. She simply
stayed in bed until she was sure her plane had taken off from Václav Havel
Airport without her, then ordered her management to talk to the Brisbane
tournament director and reschedule her flight to New Years Day. Not only did
she need another week because her nose wasn’t looking fine enough yet, but also
because – in the midst of her jolly, loud cousins and nieces – an emptiness had
invaded her, spread and was eventually filled with the terrifying thought that
in Brisbane she could run into Lulu and that the Galloway twin might hit her
again.

Or kiss her. You never knew.

BALLIN’ IT UP
                                         

Auckland, New Zealand

Standing at the window of the players’
restaurant, Mint Rickenbacher was overlooking the wet courts of the Auckland
Tennis Centre. Mint and her friend, Chili García López, had completed only half
an hour of their joint practice when the sky had darkened and heavy showers had
driven them inside. After delaying practice for nearly three hours the rain had
finally stopped. Down on the practice courts the bustle of clearing the water
had begun.

Mint was observing the other players on the
courts but didn’t move.

“Shall we go down and try to get another
half an hour done?” Chili asked.

Without turning around Mint shook her head.

“Let’s wait for later. I’m not up to
cleaning for twenty minutes if it’s just going to start raining again.”

Chili parked her chin on Mint’s shoulder
and looked outside. The rain had stopped but there was no sunny, blue sky to be
seen yet.

“Yes, let’s wait and see what happens,” she
sighed. Then she followed Mint’s gaze. On the court nearest to the building,
two players had begun hitting balls.

“Oh, your favorite opponent,” Chili teased.
“Little Elise.”

The Spaniard grinned while she watched the
blonde German down on the court. Elise Renard exchanged forehands with Natsumi
Takashima. Mint clenched her teeth until she felt her jaw beginning to cramp.
The Japanese player and Mint had spent some time together off-court in the past
season, and during the Tokyo tournament Natsumi had taken Mint under her wing,
saving the American from her obnoxious stepmother. However, since Mint had
arrived two days ago, Natsumi hadn’t called her up.

“I couldn’t care less about Elise,” Mint
threw in.

“She spent the off-season with Amanda,”
Chili reported. “They won the Couple of the Year Award,” Chili continued.

Mint threw her friend a quick glance from
the corner of her eye then looked down on the court again. The German girl was
laughing with Natsumi about something the Japanese player had said.

“Well, we already knew in Cincinnati that
they were a couple.”

“
I
knew that,” Chili corrected her.
“
You
wouldn’t believe that Elise was into girls.”

Mint didn’t reply to that. What a smartass
Chili could be! There was nothing Mint wanted to say. Instead she shrugged and
turned away without a word.

“What’s wrong now?” Chili was yelling after
her. Mint stopped.

“I just think you could have told me
earlier that you didn’t plan to play doubles with me for a whole year,” Mint
hissed.

“But it’s only half a year,” Chili said,
shaking her head. “You better find someone for yourself, so you get a chance at
the Olympics.”

“I plan to play singles at the Olympics,”
Mint replied.

“Of course, Miss Superstar. Good luck with
that.”

Mint looked at Chili. It was ironic that
she called Mint ‘Miss Superstar’. The Spaniard had been raving about becoming
famous the other night after telling Mint that she had been chosen as one of
the young players to be showcased in the new Supersport Channel series. Mint
should have been in the show instead of Chili. Not only was she the better
player, she was also prettier. But Mint knew the reason she had been left out.
The show already featured two Americans – Luella and Gabriella Galloway, one of
them being in the Top 10. At least for the moment. Lulu was doing fine, but was
by no means able to live up to the expectations of a Grand Slam champion and
Top 10 player. Mint snorted thinking about the hype Luella’s Wimbledon win had
caused.

No, it wouldn’t be easy to get a spot on
the Olympic team with her singles ranking, but now she was even more motivated
to try to get a spot on the team.

“There’s nobody I could play doubles with
anyway,” she grumbled, throwing herself on a lounge chair.

Chili sat down next to her.

“The Olympics pretty much mess up all the
good doubles teams,” Chili said understandingly. Then she had an idea. “Why
don’t you ask Monica? She can’t play with Agnes, so she might be up for playing
with you.”

“I don’t know,” Mint answered pensively. “I
never really had a close relationship with Monica. I don’t think she likes me.”
She paused for a moment. “But I will ask her. I also thought Gabriella might be
up for some doubles action.”

“Gabriella?” Chili was baffled. “Gabriella
will play with Lulu, of course.”

“Yes, probably,” Mint said carefully. “But
they stopped playing doubles together quite a while ago. And how do you explain
Gabriella playing Auckland, while Lulu is in Brisbane?”

Chili shrugged. “Ranking? Luella is a Top
10 player. Of course, she will play Brisbane. It’s the bigger tournament.” Then
she paused. “But you are right. It’s very unusual for them. They never play
different tournaments. It’s not possible as they share the same team and
coach.”

“Not anymore,” Mint said. “Gabriella has
her own team now.”

***

The sky still looked gloomy, but it didn’t
start raining again and Elise and Natsumi managed to have a good hit on one of
the practice courts. When the next players due on the court arrived Elise
walked over to the bench and began packing her racquet bag.

“I see you worked on your slice serve,”
Natsumi said appearing next to Elise.

“Amanda practiced with me,” Elise smiled at
the Japanese player.

“I thought so.” Natsumi winked. Elise
shouldered her bag and they walked together towards the players’ entrance. From
the main court she could hear the comforting sound of the chair umpire
announcing the score. Play had started.

“Do you miss her already?” Natsumi asked
holding the door for Elise. Elise chuckled at Natsumi’s nosiness.

“It’s just for a week, Natsumi. We can
survive without each other for a week,” Elise said. She knew that Natsumi would
love to hear stories about the off-season she had spent with Amanda in Florida.

“We went to a gay bar before Christmas,”
she revealed with her voice lowered, so the people who passed them in the
hallway couldn’t hear.

“Are you kidding me?” Natsumi said
laconically.
“Amanda in a gay
bar?
Did you drag her there?”

“No, it was Monica’s idea,” Elise laughed,
thinking about her girlfriend. Amanda wasn’t known for being a party animal.
She usually liked a nice evening in, cooking dinner and watching movies. Elise
opened the door to the locker rooms.

“We all went there together. Monica, Agnes
and Gabriella, too.”

As soon as she had said it and seen
Natsumi’s raised eyebrows, Elise wanted to bite her lip.

“Gabriella?” Natsumi had stopped dead in
her tracks and let her racquet bag fall on the floor. “Gabriella Galloway?”

Elise sighed. “Please, don’t tell anybody!
She’s not out to a lot of people and I’m not supposed to say anything.”

As Natsumi opened her mouth, Elise got
ready for an onslaught of questions by the Japanese. She held up her hands,
hoping to slow down the impending quick-fire interrogation when Natsumi’s phone
rang. The ring tone sounded as if someone had scored in a computer game or
pinball. The Japanese player raised a finger, gesturing to Elise that she
wasn’t dismissed yet, while searching for her phone in her racquet bag.

Elise opened her locker and grabbed her
toilet bag. She needed to escape to the showers before Natsumi finished her
phone call. Perhaps the Japanese player would forget to ask about Gabriella
after Elise came out of the shower. She peered around the locker door and saw
to her relief that Natsumi had found her phone and answered it.

“
Moshi moshi
,” the Japanese girl
said with a smile, then listened, then she grew stiff. Her smile had vanished.

“Why haven’t you called?” she whispered
into the phone. “Why have you never ever called?” She sank onto the bench and
buried her head in her free hand.

Elise held her breath. She had never seen
Natsumi cry before. But then the Japanese straightened her back, listening
carefully.

“Yes,” she eventually answered the caller
with a clear voice. “Yes. I can do that.”

Intrigued Elise watched her friend from the
other end of the room. Natsumi was still listening, then she seemed to pause
and contemplate.

“
Ich dich auch
,” she finally said
before hanging up. Elise couldn’t believe her ears. Natsumi spoke German? How
did Elise not know that? She opened her mouth to ask the Japanese but stopped
herself. Natsumi was still sitting on the bench, staring at the wall in front
of her. She seemed to have become unaware of Elise’s presence. Suddenly
embarrassed by listening in on the conversation Elise silently closed the
locker door and tip-toed to the shower. From under the water, she heard Natsumi
finally rummage through her bag and step into the shower booth next to Elise.

Ich dich auch
. That was a German expression used as an affirmative
answer to ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you’. Who had Natsumi talked to? Who did she
love back or miss? And why was she so upset? Was the caller a new lover? Elise
had to grin in relief. At least Natsumi wouldn’t pester her with questions
about Gabriella. In fact, Natsumi seemed to have completely forgotten about
everything else.

***

“This is my last chance.”

Polly Duke looked up and studied the face
of the woman sitting opposite her. Bernadette LeBlanc hadn’t touched her salad
yet. She hadn’t even picked up her fork. Sitting on the edge of her seat the
dark-haired Canadian player was looking outside the restaurant window into the
night.

“
You
’re my last chance,” Bernadette
said slowly turning her head to Polly.

Polly smiled quickly, but then looked away.
Bernadette’s dramatic approach to playing doubles seemed a bit disproportionate
and Polly wasn’t sure if it had been the right move to agree on playing with
Bernadette in the first place, even though from a professional point of view it
had been a great decision. When they had played together for the first time in
Luxembourg in October, they had worked well as a team with Polly’s punchy serve
backing up Bernadette’s skills at the net. They hadn’t won the title, but went
all the way to the final, only being beaten by the top seeds. Bernadette had
been content with the result and she had invited Polly to train with her at her
base in Florida before Christmas. For two weeks she had avoided the harsh Canadian
winter, but this also meant she couldn’t see her family and Polly was happy to
at least spend the holidays with them before leaving for New Zealand after
Christmas. Fit and ready for the new season she had arrived in Auckland, the
tournament her ranking allowed her to play without going through the qualifying
process.

They had decided to play together as the
Canadian team in this year’s Olympics and the prospect of competing thrilled
Polly. But Bernadette seemed almost grim about the challenge that lay ahead of
them.

“We need to figure out a good practice
schedule,” the older player said resolutely. “Let’s see into which tournaments
your ranking will get you, and with your team I’ll figure out a plan for us.”

Polly swallowed hard on her lamb rib.

“Of course, we need to play as many grass
tournaments as possible to be best prepared for London,” Bernadette continued.
Many? Plural? Polly looked up. The tennis competition of the Olympic Games in
London was also to be held also at the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club
of Wimbledon – on grass and only a couple of weeks after the third Grand Slam.
Were two weeks on the same courts not enough as a solid preparation for the
Olympics?

“We considered playing Birmingham,” she
said hesitantly.

“Yes, Birmingham.” Bernadette raised her
index finger. “But we should definitely play one more before Wimbledon,”
Bernadette pointed out, lifting a second finger. “Then we have Wimbledon,” she
continued her list, raising a third finger.” And after Wimbledon I suggest
staying in England so we have another good three weeks of practice.” Bernadette
wagged her four lifted fingers in front of Polly’s nose and gave the young
player a broad smile. For a short moment Polly thought if it wasn’t for the
many fingers, Bernadette looked like a witch luring her into her gingerbread
house. Polly nodded, thinking about the tight grass court schedule.

“I can talk about this with my team. There
is still enough time,” she mumbled.

“I’ll talk to them,” Bernadette interrupted
her. With a swift movement she pulled back her hand that had been lingering in
front of Polly’s nose and clenched a fist.