“It never rains at Indian Wells,” I reminded my sister, grabbing a bottle of white from the wine fridge and a couple of glasses. I was sticking to juice, with play picking up tomorrow.
“Elin!” my mother called, and I temporarily regretted giving her the keypad combination. No, actually, nothing all that temporary about the regret. “I let you go to Mexico on the condition you train well and stay out of the headlines. What the hell is going on?”
“First of all, you didn’t let me do anything.”
My mother strode past me with a pronounced sigh.
“What I was doing is supporting a friend. Someone who’s very important to me, who hasn’t done anything wrong when it comes to doping or cheating. She’ll be here in a couple of hours, and I want you to remember I said that and treat her accordingly.”
“Plenty of people cheat without knowing, especially if the coaches are the ones bending the rules,” my mother replied. “If they don’t ask what’s in the smoothie, they can’t get in trouble. Or so they think. What do they call that? Denying it?”
“Plausible deniability,” Alice supplied, being not helpful at all from behind the pages of the Sports Illustrated she was flicking through. In a minute, she’d find my swimsuit shot in there and ruin it for her completely. In a better mood, I might have warned her.
“Mamma, what does that even mean? If you’ve been secretly putting speed in my vitamin supplements, now would be a terrible time to mention it.”
My mother fixed me with a look before muttering something in Swedish. I didn’t catch all of it, but the word otacksam—ungrateful—featured heavily.
The afternoon stretched out into general chatter. Limited updates on the divorce from my mother, who seemed offended that we’d even bring up the subject. Instead, she nagged me to get out on the court out back and do some positional work. I politely refused, and let Alice tell us all about her latest gallery patron, who seemed to think buying one small sculpture meant he owned the place.
“Whatever happened to the boyfriend?” my mother asked, earning a groan from my sister.
“He wasn’t quite right for me,” Alice admitted. “Maybe I should give this new patron a go instead. Teach him how to be rich without being a douche.”
“And Elin? When is your little girlfriend arriving? If she’s in a fit state, you can get that hour of training done after all.”
I considered my options. We were way past sputtering refusal. “She’s not, yet, but if Toni becomes my girlfriend…is that going to be a problem? Are we going to fight for two years like we did about Celeste? Or with Hanna before her? Or—”
“Elin, stop rhyming these girls off like I committed some crime against you. Have I ever had a problem with you being gay?”
Alice sat up straighter, paying attention again. Either of our parents directly acknowledging this subject was a rare thing.
“No, but you might have if I told everyone and suddenly got dropped by Adidas, or Morgan Stanley, or—”
My mother dismissed that with a wave. “You’ve named two who would never drop you. It’s all about diversity now. If any had left, we would have replaced them. My concern about your dating life was never the girls, but your concentration whenever you got crazy about one. And don’t think I don’t see the timing on this either.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve just had a chat about how tennis makes you bored, you’re ready to walk away. We agree we’re going to try for the record before you quit, as long as you feel okay. Then suddenly with just two slams left to win, there’s a new pretty girl on the scene? It’s so like you, Elin.”
Before I could argue back, we all heard the distinct sound of a car pulling into the drive again.
“Behave, both of you. And make sure to focus on Toni’s win. That’s what’s important, not some tinpot scandal.”
I was waiting by the door as she stepped out, the driver insisting on bringing her bags into the hallway for her.
“Hey,” I said with a hug. “Sorry, I have visitors, but I can get rid of them in a heartbeat.”
“Nah, people is good. I’m the extrovert, remember? It fuels me.”
To hell with Mamma and Alice no doubt staring at us. I gave Toni the most reassuring kiss I could conjure up, brief but firm in purpose as I placed my lips over hers. “That, we can talk about whenever. For now, there’s wine and a fresh audience.”
“Hello!” Toni called out, going over to greet my family. Within moments they were all laughing together, and I leaned against the edge of the staircase, trying not to think about how well they all fit together.
My mother insisted on cooking, pulling fresh things I didn’t know I had from my fridge. Since her making anything other than open sandwiches was about as rare as a comet almost hitting the Earth, Alice and I were inclined to shut up and let her.
Luckily, they left soon after dinner, leaving Toni and I with a large, echoing space and some dishes to do. We stood side by side at the sink, some music playing quietly from the speakers in the living room.
“Your home is beautiful,” she said, and I looked around imagining her fresh perspective on it. The giant windows and stripped floors, the light that touched every corner. Furniture that Parisa and Alice had helped me pick, after I threatened to “just do an Ikea run.” Of course, the view out over the hills sealed the deal, and when we dried our hands, I led her out to the deck.
“This is my favourite part,” I told her.
