Page 2 of From the Courtroom to the Court
"Knees bent, Alison! Don't just bend over, move your body into it!" Leah shakes her head as she watches, surprised by Alison's continuous mistakes. "If you don't fix that, a good opponent will make you run until your legs shake. And in a real match, you can't call time-out because you're hot."
Alison clicks her tongue and mutters something unintelligible.
"Excuse me?" Leah asks, lowering her racquet with an amused expression.
The young girl sighs with frustration, and Leah wipes her forehead as she approaches the net.
"I'm sorry," Alison apologizes, "I just can't take anymore."
"Okay," Leah concedes, aware that sometimes she's very intense, but knowing that if Alison wants to go far, she must be consistent. "I'll let it slide today because this sun seems determined to finish us off, but you know that in a match, you can't stop because you're tired or feeling weak. Here, drink some water," she says, handing her a bottle.
Alison pours it over herself, and Leah lets out a small laugh. The young girl's expression changes, as if suddenly resurrected, and she starts bouncing on her feet.
"I can keep going, if you want, ten more minutes the five I lost plus five extra."
Leah blinks in bewilderment as she watches her retreat to the back of the court as if someone wound her up. She empties another bottle of water over herself, but the liquid doesn't have the same effect on her as it did on her student, reviving her energy. She's exhausted; the heat is killing her. Then she reminds herself with a smile spreading across her face as she positions herself on her side of the court that she isn't fourteen like Alison—she's thirty-eight, and doesn't have energy to spare like the girl does.
"You did really well," Leah says when the class finally ends. "See you Tuesday."
She fans her shirt in a desperate attempt to get air flowing over her body as the young girl walks away and Mia Clark approaches, a twenty-five-year-old club employee whom Leah loves like a little sister.
"You look tired," Mia says as she starts collecting the balls scattered across the court.
"I'm wishing for death right now," Leah says, sitting on the bench for a few seconds while packing her racquets in her bag.
"You should build more indoor courts. Those two are always occupied, and training in this heat isn't good," Mia observes while continuing her work.
Leah stretches her toned, sun-bronzed legs while resting her hands on the edge of the bench.
"Yes, you're right. I'll talk to my mothers about handling it. We could build two more in that area, behind the storage shed," the tennis player says, though deep down, she likes these training sessions and knows they're important. In an open tournament, the sun shows no mercy, and you need to train for that too. "Have you talked to Aaron?" she changes the subject, asking about Mia's little brother.
Mia empties the tube full of balls into the cart and continues collecting.
"Last night, to tell him I'll pick him up directly from school this Friday. I spoke with his foster mother and she was fine with it," she says, pressing her lips together in a grimace.
"That's great, Mia," Leah says.
"Yeah," Mia smiles at her. "You should go shower. It's getting late, and if we don't make it on time, Natalie will kill us."
Leah checks the time on her watch and jumps up.
"Damn," she mutters nervously. "I didn't realize it was so late."
Mia laughs and approaches her.
"Go. I'll finish collecting all this. I'll wait for you in the car."
Leah dashes toward the shower while calculating. She knows they have time to get to the restaurant where they're meeting her mothers. It's one of their birthdays, Natalie's, the older of the two. She's turning sixty-five, and her other mother wanted to celebrate at the restaurant where they always go as a family for any important event.
The family has always been the three of them—Anne, Natalie, and Leah, whom they adopted when she was six—until four years ago when she met Mia under somewhat complicated circumstances. Leah not only gave her a job but grew fond of her until she practically became her protégée, and her mothers have welcomed her as another member of the family.
They arrive at the restaurant just in time to find the two women at the door. Leah hugs them both at once, congratulates her mother despite having done so already at the club this morning after stopping by their office to say hello, where they both work handling management after insisting to Leah that it was better they do it than someone unfamiliar. The tennis player would have preferred her mothers to enjoy a relaxed retirement that they can afford, but they say they'd get bored and prefer to be there, close to her.
"Shall we go in?" Anne asks, putting an arm around Mia's shoulders.
Leah loves this restaurant, located in a historic Victorian-style house with a large terrace and a cozy porch that combines Southern tradition with a modern touch.
Upon entering, the exposed wooden beams and brick walls create a warm, sophisticated atmosphere that makes them feel at home. The hanging lamps emit a soft light, perfect for the family evening they intend to enjoy.
