Page 2 of Love on the Sidelines

I smile and follow her to the third court over, where there’s a woman on the other side. “Can you play with an odd number?”

Fran waves her paddler. “I’ve got to go to an appointment. Take my spot,” she says to me. She leans in close but doesn’t lower her voice when she says, “Watch out though. Betty Jean is good at cheating.”

“I am not!” Betty Jean says, laughing. “You just need to get your eyes checked.”

I might not have found a date, but what I did find was laughter and a zest for life. It makes me miss my roommates.

We were all so close during our time as the Sunny Girls. I probably should’ve gone to see Brooke and the others anyway with my plane ticket. Instead, I figured I’d save it for the next time one of them gets married. I doubt it will be long before that happens. I definitely lucked out in the college roommate department.

Over the next thirty minutes, I learn a lot about this sport. Betty Jean has to be in her late fifties, and while I wouldn’t have pegged her for a fierce competitor, she’s beating me with ease.

Several people have come and left from the courts, but I’ve barely noticed since I’m so focused on trying to hit the ball soft enough that it actually lands in the court.

“All right, darlin’,” Betty Jean says. “It’s time I head home and shower before I have to pick up my grandkids. We come to play on Friday mornings, if you’re itching for a rematch.” The wicked grin she gives me hurts my pride but also makes me laugh at the same time.

“I’ll have to put that on my calendar,” I say, taking a swig from the water bottle I brought. This is probably the most exercise I’ve gotten since being cleared from my last surgery. I’m not feeling stiff right now, but I wonder if that’s because I’m not playing on grass or turf. Then again, soreness usually hits hard two or three days after a good workout.

Another woman standing close to the bench grabs a bandana and wipes at her forehead, wheezing. “It’s a hot one today.”

I nod and say, “It definitely is.”

She smiles at me and says, “Ava? Ava Hooper?”

Taking another look at the woman, I finally recognize her. “Hi Mrs. Danielson. I didn’t realize you’re back in town.”

“I moved back with my granddaughter a couple of days ago. How have you been?” She reaches over and pulls me into a bear hug. I cringe, hoping I don’t smell like a wet dog after sweating for the last sixty minutes.

“I’m doing well. Just working and taking care of Gran.”

She grins and says, “I need to stop by and see her. It’s been too long.” Her eyes get a faraway look to them and I’m sure she’s reliving some memory involving Gran. She smiles at me and says, “Do you want to play a game with us?”

I debate whether I want to head home or play. I have Fridays off because I spend any Saturday I’m in town and weeknights as the manager of the rec games on all the fields.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve been this challenged in anything and I nod. “I’d love to, Mrs. Danielson.”

“You can call me Tina. Charlie is on the other side. It looks like he’s recruited someone to play as well. It’s always a bit more fun with four on the court.”

I freeze, glancing at the tall figure on the other side of the net.

Charlie Danielson. My brother’s former best friend and the one who always teased me endlessly and then got my brother to ditch me every time they hung out.

Do I try to come up with some excuse to leave the court? It’s too late, because I’m already here and Charlie has most definitely seen me.

“Where is it you’ve been?” I ask, trying to remember what Gran told me once I got back from college and playing away for two years. She’s the best source of gossip in this town.

Tina says, “Michigan. I was up there with my daughter while she was going through cancer. She passed about six months ago and Emily, my granddaughter, and I just moved here on Monday. I used to play pickleball up there daily, so I finally wrangled Charlie out here to play. He needs it. The guy is behind a desk all the time and can use the sunshine.”

Charlie is about twenty yards away from me, talking to a man who looks about his mother’s age. What he lacks in a tan, he definitely makes up for in physique. Tina makes it sound like he doesn’t get outside, but he must be some kind of gym rat to look that good.

He’s always looked that good, even during the gangly years when his ears were too big for his head. If he hadn’t been such a jerk all those years ago, I might’ve looked at him differently.

“Yeah, I don’t know if he needs all that fresh air,” I say, trying to avert my gaze. No need to get all excited about someone who used to eat bugs for fun.

We walk to the net and Tina says, “Charlie, you remember Ava, right?”

Recognition hits in his eyes and he grins. “Yes, I definitely do. How’s Bobby?”

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to my older brother since he works on a ship at sea and the cell service is spotty.

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