Page 32 of When Forever Stays

“Well, I’m just…thank you.”

The waiter arrives and places our drinks in front of us. Needing a lighter topic of conversation, I ask something I’ve been curious about since first meeting Rhett. “So, Mr. Tennis Instructor, how did you find yourself in the business of tennis instructing?”

He takes a sip of his water, and I can see his smile from behind the glass.

“You’re going to make fun of me for this.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, this should be good.”

“I don’t think I told you this before, but I grew up in near poverty. We lived in the projects and barely made it paycheck to paycheck.”

My smile drops and my heart goes out to young Rhett, who must have fought hard to get out of that. “No, you never told me.” Not that he had time to tell me much of anything in the week we spent together.

“My mom was amazing. She was a single parent and worked three jobs to keep me and my brother, Caleb, fed. Even though she spent countless hours at work, she somehow managed to be there for Caleb and me anytime we really needed it. As soon as we were old enough, we both went out and got jobs. Caleb was able to get a really good one working for the mayor. He of course got it with no experience or references.” Rhett’s nostrils flare, and I’m reminded of how he said he always felt like he lived inCaleb’s shadow. “As for me, I had my focus set on something else.” He pauses a moment and takes a drink. All traces of irritation are now gone, and a partial smile sits on his lips.

“I’m assuming we’re getting to the point where I will probably make fun of you.”

My attempt to lighten the mood seems to work as a new lightness fills his expression.

“We’re practically there.” Rhett clears his throat. “The something I had my sights set on was actually someone. She was one of the lifeguards at the country club pool.” Jealousy bubbles to the surface, but I quickly squelch it out. He keeps talking, unaware of the silent battle going on in my head. “We were in the same homeroom the previous school year, and no matter how hard I tried to impress her, I could never snag her attention. So when I found out she worked at the country club, I decided that I would try to also get a job there. The pool overlooked the tennis courts, and I thought if she was forced to look at me on the courts every day, maybe she’d finally notice me.”

I lean forward, intently listening to Rhett as he recalls this memory. “Well, I applied and then got the job. There was only one problem.”

I blurt out what the problem was as soon as I realize what it must be. “You didn’t know how to play tennis.” Unless there was a tennis team or they played tennis in gym class at his school, I’m not sure how a kid in Rhett’s situation would have learned how to play.

Rhett stares at me in shock. “How did you know that?”

I lift a shoulder. “Lucky guess. So tell me what happened with the job! Didn’t you have to try out or anything?”

“Umm, no. They overlooked that part of the application; apparently, the hiring manager was new and overwhelmed. From the first swing of the racket, the lead tennis instructor caught me in that lie, but instead of telling management about it, he taught me everything I needed to know over the course of my job training. He said he liked my confidence and that I put myself out there even with no experience.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “I take it you were a quick study.”

“It turns out playing guitar and playing tennis work well in tandem. Something about picking up on the rhythm…” He trails off, looking as though he regrets what he just said, though I can’t figure out why.

My brows scrunch. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales a deep breath and releases it. “Nothing.”

I don’t want to risk it becoming awkward, so I say, “I’d love to know how playing tennis and guitar work together.” Rhett never told me he played guitar in our prior conversations—which I guess isn’t surprising—but I figure I’ll ask him more about that later.

Regret colors his expression as if he wishes he could take back what he just said. A muscle in his jaw ticks for a moment, and then the tense atmosphere dissipates.

“There’s a rhythm with both.” He starts tapping his fingers on the table to the song playing softly over the speakers. “Even when the tempo shifts faster or slower, there’s a rhythm that just…exists. It’s the same with tennis. Once the ball hits their racket, I can almost feel the rhythm of the ball.”

“I never thought of it that way, but I guess that makes sense. So you learned how to play tennis to impress a girl.” I don’t try to hide my smile. “Did it work?”

Rhett looks away. “Not even a little. Apparently, she had a big-shot football star boyfriend who was at college. They got married shortly after she graduated high school.” He shrugs. “But it ended up working out for me in the long run. When I escaped to Amber Island, I needed to find a job, and I got another tennis instructing gig that led into the lead instructor role.”

“Escaped?” My heart skitters to a practical stop. “What were you escaping from?”

Rhett goes silent for a long moment, his expression turning completely stoic before he answers. “Life.”

There’s another uncomfortable stretch of silence. Obviously, there’s more to Rhett’s story than I originally thought. I wait another minute to see if he expands on his cryptic answer, but he doesn’t.

For the first time ever, I feel uncomfortable in his presence. There’s so much about him I don’t know and it seems like there are things he’s still not ready to tell me. Things he's trying to hide. Just like Rosa warned. Rhett closes his eyes as though he’s trying to decide what to say next.

In hopes of pivoting into something lighter, I ask, “How did you get into guitar?”

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