Page 26 of Double Fault

“Good enough for me.”

A lot of athletes would push their kids to follow in their footsteps, yet Noah hasn’t. Maddie’s her own person and he respects that.

It doesn’t take long to get sucked into watching him practice. I never would have imagined tennis would require such athleticism. He takes off in quick bursts and comes to a screeching halt. If I tried to move like that, I have no doubt I’d blow out a knee.

Each time he swings, sending that neon-green orb back over the net, a small grunt escapes him. The speed at which the ball travels should be impossible.

I thought I might get bored, but I don’t, and this isn’t even a game.

Fisher stands on the other side of the court, along with an older man who looks vaguely familiar and a woman in her forties.

Every once in a while, one of them calls out for him to stop and they meet at the net.

“I’m thirsty,” Maddie says after a solid forty-five minutes.

“All right.” I stand, smoothing my hand down the back of the skort. Honestly, I thought skorts were the stupidest thing I’d ever heard of when Lucy insisted on it, but it does look cute, and not having to worry about flashing anyone is a nice bonus. “Let’s find some water.”

As Maddie stands, Noah jogs over, squinting.

Are tennis players not allowed to wear sunglasses?

I make a mental note to Google that later.

“Everything okay?” he asks, hands on his hips, his racket still gripped in one.

“Maddie’s thirsty. We’re going to find water.”

He points to one side of the court, where all his gear is stowed. “Cooler’s over there.”

“Right.” I press my lips together, embarrassed I didn’t notice it. “Go grab a water, Maddie.”

She scampers off, leaving me alone with her dad, who watches me silently.

Suddenly feeling awkward, I rock back on my heels. “We’ll probably head back soon. She’s getting tired.”

“Tired?” His lips curl up in amusement. “That’s a polite way of saying she’s bored.” He lifts his chin and glances toward the way out of the park. “Go on back and grab dinner. I’ll be late, but I’ll put her to bed.”

Maddie skips back over, two plastic bottles in hand. She holds one out for me, then twists her cap off and chugs, causing the water to dribble down her chin. With a satisfied sigh, she wipes at the mess with the back of her hand.

“Thanks, girlie.” I crack the lid of my own bottle. “What do you think about heading back to the hotel?”

Shrugging, she twists the toe of one Converse into the ground. “That would be good. Are you okay if we go, Dad?”

He ruffles her brown hair. “I’m good, sweetie. I won’t be back for dinner, so have fun with Sabrina. I’ll see you before bed.”

“Okay,” she says, a thread of disappointment in her tone.

“We’ll see you later.” I smile at Noah, then wave to Fisher across the court.

Maddie’s quiet on the ride back to the hotel. So quiet I worry she isn’t feeling well. In my short time with the little girl, I’ve only seen her sleeping or talking, unless, of course, she’s watching TV.

“I’m hungry,” I tell Maddie once we’ve thanked the driver and are headed into the hotel. “Are you?”

She nods, her hazel eyes lighting up a fraction.

“All right, we have a couple of options. We can eat at one of the restaurants in the hotel or we can get room service.”

With a twist of her lips, she hums thoughtfully. “Room service, please.”

---