“You played well today,” he says. “And I’m glad I saw it. I know you didn’t get what you wanted, but I’m still blown away by what you accomplished here. So many people are.”
“Thanks,” I say. And then I stop playing with my fingernails and look up at him, meet his eye. “Thank you.”
“So I’ll see you at the French, it sounds like,” Bowe says, his hand on his suitcase again.
I nod. “I’ll be back home trying to get myself in fighting shape until then.”
“And I’ll be out on the courts trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat.”
Bowe puts his hand out for me to shake, and I grab it. I am surprised by how warm it is.
He turns to go.
“Do you even have a room?” I ask. “You were supposed to leave this morning.”
“I’ll get another one,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”
There’s a pullout sofa in the living area of my suite. But I know that at some point in the night, he would knock on the bedroom door. Or worse yet, I’d slip into his bed on the couch.
When I play out the scenario in fast-forward, I can barely stand to watch it. He’ll say something wonderful at some point, and I’ll start to believe he means it, despite all evidence to the contrary. And then I’ll start to like him or love him or feel something that I swear I’ve never felt before. And then one day, when I’m in too deep, he’ll stop liking me or loving me, for one reason or another. And I’ll be left with a hole in my heart.
“All right, then,” I say. “Good luck. See you in Paris.”
Transcript
SportsHour USA
The Mark Hadley Show
Mark Hadley: And Carrie Soto out before the quarterfinals? What do we make of that?
Gloria Jones: I think it was an excellent showing.
Briggs Lakin: It was what we all knew it would be, which was a failed attempt at a comeback.
Jones: I mean, yes. Ultimately, if she’s going to be a contender to win a Slam this year, you’d want to see her get past the round of sixteen.
Lakin: If she can’t make it to the final in Melbourne when Nicki Chan’s gone home with a bum ankle, she has no shot at a Slam title this year. Especially once the Beast comes back. And you all know I’m no big fan of Chan. I can’t get over the grunting. But she is the best player in the world right now. So this was Soto’s chance to take a title, and it’s over.
Jones: Yes, that last part, I agree with.
Hadley: Look at that! For once, we all agree.
Lakin: Turning to the quarterfinals, I think Cortez can take this thing to the end.
Jones: Absolutely not. Antonovich is going to stop her.
Hadley: Well, Chan’s no spring chicken. Who takes the reins after the Beast is done? This could be Cortez’s or Antonovich’s moment. To take a Slam while she’s out. To show us what the future of tennis looks like.
On the flight home to Los Angeles, my father wants to go over what went wrong, how I can do better next time.
“Sí, pero, I played poorly, Dad,” I say. “I got cocky. I assumed I was back to my old level of playing, and I wasn’t. Cortez got the best of me. And now, anyone who saw that match knows that they can run me down.”
“Sí y…” my father says, gesturing his hand toward me to encourage me to keep talking.
“So…I need to work on it.”
My father smiles. “We need to work on it. We need to think through multiple strategies with each player and react more quickly once we understand what they are up to. And we need to get your volley game to the best it’s ever been, so you don’t have to rely on the groundstrokes, if you feel yourself starting to lose your power.” There is a buoyancy to his voice—an excitement—that irritates me.
“Yes, but please stop smiling about it.”
“I cannot!” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “This is an exciting time. It is phase two. We have learned where we can improve, and now we will. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the world is ours.”
We are however many thousand miles up in the air. It is night and there are no birds up here. Only defeat and jet lag in a pressurized cabin.
“Yeah, está bien,” I say. “Está bien.”
* * *
—
We land and make our way home, where I sleep for twelve hours. I had planned to spend the next day alone in my room with the curtains drawn, ordering expensive pizza. But when I open my eyes, I make myself get up and turn on the television. I want to confirm what I already suspect.