Page 67 of Game Point
Sure enough, Mum was pottering around the kitchen. Her frown didn’t ease as she glanced up at me from the counter.
‘I assume Oliver wants a beer?’ she said, barely even looking my way as she continued to chop some lettuce. I admired her chopping skills, the quick confident movement of the blade. All I’d managed was a stupid onion and even I knew I’d done it wrong.
‘I guess so,’ I said, leaning against the counter. ‘I drove us.’
She nodded, throwing the lettuce into a bowl. Mum turned, heading to the fridge. ‘We have Pepsi or ginger beer.’
‘I’ll have a ginger beer, thanks.’ My fingers gripped at the cool marble counter, a sixth sense screaming at me.The odd quietness to her that told me all was not calm in Mum land.
‘I’ll add a lime,’ she said, the words themselves rather zesty. She took the fruit to the chopping board, silently rolling it between her palm and the counter.
Sucking in a breath, I dared to ask, ‘How are things with you?’
‘Oh, it’s all the same.’ She kept looking down, slicing the lime into perfect wedges. ‘Your dad’s back has been acting up again.’
‘Did he go to the doctor?’ I asked, still studying her as she moved around, grabbing a glass, opening the bottle, pouring my drink.
‘You know your dad.’ She shrugged,still not looking at me.
I hummed in response, entirely unsure what else to ask. But if I knew Mum, she’d crack on her own. And soon. She reached out towards me, passing me the glass, her head turning to look at me. Her green eyes were assessing, sharp, and I braced myself for impact.
‘Something funny happened the other week,’ she said, and I began to regret leaving Oliver.I should’ve sent him instead.
‘Oh?’ I took a sip, hoping the liquid would drown out the fight or flight response building.
She hummed, ‘I woke up one day and I’d seen my daughter –my youngest daughter –collapsed in the middle of a tennis court.’ I bit down on my bottom lip, anxiety building. ‘And to top that off, she didn’t call. I got a text in the middle of the night. Two words. “I’m fine”. Not to mention that damn coach of yours. She was useless.’ She grabbed a tea towel, throwing it over oneshoulder as she turned, leaning back on the counter. Arms crossed.
‘It wasn’t her fault. I fired her,’ I said simply.
Her eyes went wide, her head nodding. ‘Oh yes, because on top of that, I found out from the news the same youngest daughter had decided to retire?’ I was dead. I was so dead. She continued, hardly missing a beat, ‘Retiring from the sport me and her father helped her with for her entire childhood.’
‘Mum,’ I pressed, but she didn’t stop. And why would she? She was on a roll.
‘Driving her around Victoria to her matches, paying for her lessons, her coaching, the rackets and kit. I had to get really good at washing whites, and in a family of five that’s no joke.’ She counted each thing off on her fingers, like this list has been building ever since the news broke. ‘Then there was that awful friend of yours –’
My eyebrows bunched together. ‘Who do you mean?’
She tsked loudly, as if even speaking the name annoyed her. ‘Avery. She still stops by unannounced.’
I stood still as I racked my brain, trying to think over all the possible times they had spoken, been together. Since we used to compete in the same competitions, we would all travel a lot together, with one set of parents managing two kids. We’d all spent a lot of time with each other, and I’d never noticed that they felt this way. ‘You don’t like her?’ I asked.
‘Never.’ She pursed her lips, ‘She was a fine player, but she was never as good as you, and I always thought she knew it. Then after she quit, I felt like she still hung onto you.’
I frowned, her words not quite making sense to me. ‘What do you mean? She was in that accident, Mum. Her leg was –’
‘I know she was in a crash, Dylan,’ Mum interrupted. ‘But have you ever wondered if it was really the injury that ended her career?’
I blinked at her, taken aback. ‘What else would it be?’
‘I just think it’s strange, that’s all.’ Mum hesitated, looking down at her hands before shaking her head slightly, almost as if she regretted bringing it up. ‘She recovered, didn’t she? Fully, from what I remember.’
‘That’s not what she told me,’ I replied, remembering those months, getting the call while I was away, playing on the tour. ‘She was in rehab, she was struggling and then, it only took her so far. It wasn’t the same after.’
‘Are you sure?’ Mum asked, her eyes locking onto mine. ‘Or is that just what she’s told you?’
I froze, Mum’s words sinking in slowly. I could feel the confusion swirl inside me. ‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I’m not saying anything definitive,’ she replied quickly, raising her hands as if to calm me. ‘But think about it, Dylan. Why didn’t she try to come back? Why didn’t she push through like you would have?’
