“Right, if that’s everything?” I turned to leave.
“Actually…” Dr Huppert called after me, her accent wrapped around the word like a burgundy vine. For the first time she looked something other than completely composed. Was she…? She was blushing! “Since I’m in town until Monday, I wondered if you had any way to see about a ticket for your matches? With all the uncertainty… It is just I’ve never seen you play, in person.”
I laughed, shaking my head just a little. It had always been this way, and something about the familiar ridiculousness comforted me.
“I’ll leave two in your name for collection at the box office tomorrow. Not sure I’ll be able to for the final.”
“If you make it,” Dr Sattar cautioned.
“I will,” I said, grasping the door handle and letting myself out of there.
“You were fantastic today,” I said, sitting quite comfortably for once at the small dining table. The painkillers had kicked in, the inflammation was down, and I could think clearly. “You’d better keep that up if you make it to the final.”
“Of course.” Toni answered just a little too quickly. “I mean, I’ll try.”
“Sweetheart?” It was a new one to try, no pet name for her had settled yet. Maybe some people just didn’t suit one? The closest I’d come was hearing her name like a little chorus in the back of my mind sometimes: Toni Toni Toni. “If I somehow pull this off, if we both make the final and I’m still walking come Saturday…”
She did try to keep a straight face, to seem as neutral as a man in an online comment section playing devil’s advocate. Three seconds later, Toni caved. “Okay, but if I get there I can protect you! It wouldn’t be throwing anything; it would just be playing you more carefully, so you don’t get hurt any more than you already are.”
I watched her come closer but held myself back. “And you think I want that?”
“I don’t mean—”
“If you’re going to play me with anything less than everything you’ve got, then do me a favour and let Fatima win tomorrow.”
“Listen, I might lose anyway. And even if I make the final, there’ll be other slams. I can try again in September, it’s no big deal.”
“Does it feel right when you say it? Because to me, you look queasy. It will kill you if you go out there and half-ass it just to help me. And you, even more than me, know that it’s not guaranteed. A twinge tomorrow, a tear the next day, and it’s all over. Or that level is. You’ve given everything to get back here, to be within spitting distance of your first slam. But if it means retiring without my record, I’ll do it right now to make sure you can’t go soft on me.”
“You realise this is probably unhealthy for people who are supposed to be getting married?” Toni yelled back at me. “Are we going to put it in the vows? I promise to risk your health just to soothe your ego?”
“I don’t have an ego!” Yeah, nobody was buying that one. “I have one shot, and if it doesn’t work, fine. But it won’t count for shit if you hand it me, or try to convince anyone else to, in case that’s your backup plan.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?” Toni was up in my face now, and it felt a lot like we were sparring on court. This was the argumentative, competitive side of her I needed to come through.
“I do know that,” I said, reaching across to stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Please do this one thing for me. It’s as important to me as any wedding vow, and I think you know that. I think you’d want the same from me in return.”
“What if I really hurt you somehow? Worse, I mean?” Toni looked terrified. “How would I forgive myself?”
“You won’t. When the pills all work, and the injections, I’m flying out there like nothing’s wrong. And if you find yourself changing your mind, going easy on me…just remember how it felt when you hurt your back. If that happened again and you didn’t have a slam that you could have won, how will that feel? Don’t make me do that to you, either.”
She kissed me, furious and deep and her way of making the promise I’d asked of her.
“You know I’ll give you everything you want. Including the game of your life. Want to hit the hydro pool while you’re still pain free?”
“Any excuse to get me in a bikini,” I sighed, but I pulled up my top to show I was already dressed for exactly that. “Then an early night. We’ve got matches to win.”
Toni was gone when I woke up, her side of the bed neat, almost as though she hadn’t been there at all. For a moment I let myself forget the semi-finals, that we were in my favourite house in South-west London instead of Los Angeles, that any minute now I’d move and the rumbles of pain would start to reverberate up and down my side. I closed my eyes, feeling the slight glow from where the sun had peeked through the heavy curtains, and stretched out my arms to cover both sides of the pillows.
Would it feel like this? Toni off at some smaller tournament, racking up her ranking points and another cheque between slams? Warm and content and knowing she was just there. Maybe the nursery across the hall, maybe a day full of events for my charity ahead. Maybe no bigger plans than going for a hike up to the Griffith Observatory, without the phone ringing or an appointment to restring some racquets or sign for a new delivery of sportswear.
I was going to be fine, however the next three days turned out. That realisation, the certainty that came with it, felt something like flying.
Rolling over carefully,
