Page 27 of From the Courtroom to the Court
The lawyer notices something different about the girl. That usual spark in her eyes is missing, and she wants to ask if she's okay. She doesn't, not wanting to be intrusive because, despite having a good relationship, she feels she doesn't have enough trust.
"I think better," Emily responds to her question and makes one of her exaggerated movements, stepping forward – too far forward – and swinging her racket as if she were about to hit someone.
Mia smiles, but only halfway, and Emily bites her cheeks to keep from asking what's wrong. Leah speaks, and she appreciates it because it prevents her from continuing with that indecisive thought.
"This is a ball launcher," the tennis player begins explaining as she touches the device with one hand. "The exercise we'll do now is very similar to what we were practicing; the difference is that this time you'll have to move a little. Mia will direct it so you can follow the ball, and I'll be behind you giving some instructions, okay?"
Emily's heart gallops forcefully. She knows it's a simple practice, but one that gradually increases in difficulty. She's never minded doing poorly; she focuses on having fun, though for some unknown reason, she wants to excel, wants to show Leah that she has learned and that everything is improving.
"Understood," she answers firmly. "I'm ready."
Leah gives her a gentle pat on the back as if to tell her she'll be there. Emily loves the gesture, and it makes her relax slightly.
"Mia, on my signal," she asks the caddie and then speaks to her student. "Focus on the ball and my voice. When I tell you to move, I'll indicate which direction. Short steps, Mia will make sure the ball comes out with little force."
Leah raises an arm, and Mia activates the ball launcher and moves it a bit.
"Left," Leah whispers, close to Emily's back.
The lawyer, who isn't made of steel, feels such a shiver down her spine that she freezes. The ball rolls to her left, and Leah watches it until it stops.
"You have to move so you can return the ball," the trainer explains again, mistakenly thinking Emily didn't understand her well, ignoring how the lawyer's stomach vibrated at her whisper.
"Sorry, I don't know what came over me," the lawyer lies.
"Come on, are you ready?"
"I am."
The steps repeat: Leah raises her hand, Mia adjusts the machine, the trainer whispers, and this time Emily moves. She takes two steps to the right and manages to hit the ball, though she does it with such force that she sends it off the court. Even so, she celebrates as if she just won a championship.
"Good, good, Emily," Leah congratulates her. "Right now we're not practicing strength, just moving and returning the ball. Although it would be good for you to start thinking that, in many cases, less is more. There are plays that require strength, but others, like this one, don't. Let's go again."
The next thirty minutes pass with the cannon launching balls from left to right and Emily moving across the court with increasing confidence. Some of her shots are soft, and others are missiles. One nearly hits Mia in the head.
"I loved today's training," Emily tells the tennis player once they've finished and both clean off their sweat and drink water.
"Didn't you like the others?" Leah teases her, and Emily narrows her eyes.
"You know I did, but now I feel more confident. I think I've learned more than ever."
Before Leah can answer, Mia approaches to remind her about the training on court three and that she'll wait for her there, says goodbye to Emily, and leaves.
"See you tonight at my house?" the lawyer asks to confirm the appointment.
"Yes, you need to give me your address."
"If you want, you can give me your phone number, and I'll send it to you by message."
Emily feels her feat has been incredible. She has very easily obtained Leah's number and with it the excuse to perhaps invite her to lunch someday. She likes the tennis player and, being true to what she has been feeling lately, is quite sure she feels some attraction toward her. It's been a while since she's asked anyone out. She has dated women and had a good time, but something in her brain tells her Leah isn't one of those, so if she ever decides to meet with her on a more personal level, she needs to be sure of it.
After the exchange, the women say goodbye, and Leah walks to the court where she's scheduled to give her next class. She observes Mia getting everything ready and knows her friend is truly having a hard time. She can tell even in the way she walks.
"Tonight I'm meeting with Emily to talk about Aaron," Leah explains while looking at the caddie with affection. "You'll see how we manage to solve it."
Mia just approaches her and hugs her. It's gratitude, affection, a sense of sisterhood. Leah is all she has besides Aaron, and she doesn't hesitate to admit that without her, she would be lost.
It's eight minutes past eight in the evening when Leah rings the doorbell at Emily Harris's house. From the outside, it's a beautiful building, typical of Charleston, though with a somewhat more modern touch. From where Leah stands, it seems like a small house compared to others in the neighborhood. It doesn't take long before she hears footsteps, and a few seconds later, the door opens. Leah's breath catches; in front of her, Emily is dressed in dark blue linen pants and a completely white short-sleeved t-shirt. Her hair is down, though on the left side a clip holds it back, while the right side falls across her face. This is Emily, the lawyer, not the woman who loves sports and is a bit – or very – clumsy. Leah loves the contrast, she's fascinated seeing her dressed like this, just as much as in sportswear, ready to use the racket. Her mind collapses when she remembers her sweating on the court at her club and, suddenly, imagines her with a brow pearled with sweat in another scenario.
