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This Much Is True

Page 5

by Anna Albo


  “Marc? The Taylor Tennis Club owner?”

  “Yes. I was paying my dues the other day and he was poking around about you. I think he was more than impressed with the summer clinics you put on and wondered if you wanted to do some other projects. You should check in with him on your way out.”

  My interest was piqued. “I’ll talk to him. I could use extra money.”

  I ventured to the front desk and found a young man there. I’d never seen him before. He was tapping away on his phone and didn’t notice or care that I was waiting. When he finally glanced up, he gingerly set down his phone and stared at me like he had a million other things to do.

  “Is Marc around?”

  “Nope.”

  He had to be a new hire, but he looked familiar. Where did I know him from? And he looked good, the type of guy who knew he could charm the pants off any girl and his attitude reflected it. “Is he expected back soon?”

  “Not sure.”

  My frustration was building. “Can I leave a message for him?”

  “Sure,” he said, picking up his phone and ignoring me.

  “Are you going to take a message?”

  “Oh.” He searched around the desk and produced a pen and a torn piece of paper belonging to an old Wal-Mart receipt. He slid them towards me and waited for me to finish. He took the note and read it. He looked at me and frowned.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  “Not really.” His greyish green eyes scanned my face. “You’re the one Marc was talking about. He thinks we can save the club.”

  “What’s going on with the club?” I asked with a small amount of alarm. The club being in trouble was all news to me.

  The guy grimaced. “Not sure I should say too much. Marc brought me in because I owe him, and I don’t want to start any gossip.”

  “Who are you anyway?”

  “Ben Morrow.”

  He said his name like I should have known it. My brain went into overdrive trying to place him—then it hit me, taking me back to my competitive tennis days. I was probably fourteen or fifteen and every girl with a pulse was in love with Ben Morrow. He was a few years older and had a full scholarship to a tennis academy in Florida. He’d even played junior tennis at the US Open and made it to the semis of a decent-sized tournament once. Since then he’d faded away, or was I the one who’d faded away? Either way, the mighty had fallen if he was back in Minnesota and working at the Taylor Tennis Club.

  “And how do you think you can save this club?” I asked, intentionally pretending not to remember him.

  “I don’t know. Marc has some kind of plan that involves both of us. I know why he wants me; not sure what your role is.”

  I sensed a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Well, make sure he gets the message. See you later.”

  I stewed all the way home and wanted to rant to Zach, but the only thing I found was a note he’d left explaining that he was out playing hockey with the guys.

  MARC CALLED THE FOLLOWING morning while I was in psych class. I called him on my way home from school.

  “Emma, nice to hear from you. I understand you met Ben and had a little chat. I was hoping you could come down and meet with me next time you’re down at the club. I have a venture I’m hoping you and Ben can help me with.”

  “Sounds interesting. Can you give me any details?”

  “I’d love to but I haven’t flushed them out yet.”

  “I have a practice session planned with Helen tomorrow. I could come by around 6 pm?”

  “Perfect. I’ll make sure Ben is there too.”

  I got home to find Zach and Genie at the dining room table with papers and envelopes everywhere. I set down my bag and wandered over.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking over Zach’s college applications,” Genie said. “I’m not sure why. Zach could have written them in crayon and still have his pick of schools.”

  “Not true,” Zach said.

  “Dad will make sure you get into whichever school he wants you in.”

  “I only want Columbia and Dad’s already made it clear that isn’t his first choice, so all those As I worked for last year better pay off.”

  Genie rolled her eyes. “He’s going to get accepted to all of them.”

  “I thought you already finalized these,” I said, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.

  “I wanted to look them over one last time. And have a new pair of eyes look them over too.”

  Seeing the applications gave me a sinking feeling. He’d be gone come next fall, that was a guarantee. It would be Columbia. The question was whether I had officially decided to go with him.

  “When are you sending them off?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow. Genie was taking a final look. Do you mind looking them over too? I know you did already, but what if I missed something? I’d hate to send them with typos.”

  Genie rolled her eyes again. “How many people have looked these over? A million? You’re getting ridiculous.”

  “I can’t risk a mistake.”

  “I’m meeting Andrea so I’m out of here,” Genie said. “Have fun looking over this boring shit.”

  I took her seat and glanced over the applications. I didn’t have much to add. I’d read them already. Zach then pulled out a pile of more brochures.

  “I got these,” he said, handing them over to me. “This is information on all the culinary schools in and around all the law schools I’m applying to. I also got info on colleges in the area too.”

  I stared at the pile. This was getting serious. “Yeah, I should look them over.”

  “I’m not pressuring you or anything, but I thought you should see them. I know we talked about all your future plans.”

  “I hate talking about this.”

  “I know,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand. He squeezed it and I tried to smile. “But we can’t keep avoiding it.”

  “I know, but I’m scared. I’m finally starting to make a life for myself here and now I’m going to leave and start over. I’m not good at starting over.”

  “You could think of it as an adventure,” he said with a sly smile. “Remember all those delis in New York?”

  “Yes. And I did like it there.”

  “You’ll make tons of friends. Imagine living in New York. The endless possibilities. And if you don’t want to go to culinary school, you can finish your degree. Besides, you only see your dad a weekend or two a month now. It would be the same in New York. We can fly back all the time.”

  “You make it sound like I have unlimited funds. Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Yeah, my dad.”

  “Your family already pays for enough stuff.”

  He fell silent and his big brown cocoa-colored eyes stared at me tenderly. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yes,” I said, leaning over and kissing him. “I have time to figure out my next step, right? The best place to finish up my degree.”

  “You have at least a few months. None of these schools need applications right away,” he said, giddiness setting in.

  “I’ll read them all over,” I said, scooping them up into a neat pile. “An interesting thing happened today.”

  “What was that?” he asked, watching me get up and head for the kitchen.

  “Marc, from my tennis club, called me. He asked me to help out with some new ideas he has at the club. He hired this tool, Ben, and he wants the two of us to help him out. Helen’s mentioned in the past that Marc is trying to get enrolment up. I’m not sure how I can help, and if my brief conversation with Ben Morrow is any indication, that idiot will be a total waste of time.”

  “You mentioned this Ben guy’s name twice. Who is he?”

  I rolled my eyes thinking of my brief conversation with him. “He’s a has-been,” I said, opening the fridge and rifling through its contents. I pulled out the chicken breasts I’d made from the night before as well as some mixed greens, feta cheese, cucumber
s and onions. I decided on a Greek chicken salad and some cheesy garlic bread on the side. “Ben Morrow was supposed to be a superstar. He moved to Florida, got a big shot coach, turned pro and fell flat on his face. Now he’s back in Minneapolis, a place I remember him hating back in his heyday. When he left, he said he was never coming back.”

  “He’s cute,” Zach said from the dining room table.

  I put down the container of mixed greens and rejoined him. He had his laptop in front of him. “Excuse me?”

  Zach looked up from the screen. “I just googled him. Did you have a crush on him back then?” he asked mischievously.

  “No,” I said, my cheeks flushing a little.

  “You are so full of shit and it’s cute.”

  I returned to the kitchen and chopped up the chicken. “I did not like him. All the other girls were too busy falling all over themselves every time he walked into the room. I couldn’t care less about him.”

  “Sure. I can’t believe you kiss me with that lying mouth.”

  His needling wasn’t going to work. “Keep it up and you’ll be eating and sleeping alone tonight.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Marc didn’t mention what this new task will be?”

  “No. I’m guessing he wants us to teach classes? Something like that? Ben would have more appeal than me. He was pretty good before he turned pro. He made it to the semifinals in the US Open juniors. He isn’t a slouch.”

  I tossed together the salad ingredients and started on the dressing. I warmed coconut and flax oil, apple cider vinegar, salt, pepper, garlic and some spices. Before dressing it, I brought some plates and cutlery to Zach to put out. He’d gathered and piled most of his papers and thankfully put his laptop away.

  “He couldn’t hack the pros?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t keep up with his career. Ben was good, but to be an elite tennis player, you have to be great. I suppose he wasn’t great.”

  I dressed the salad and we sat down to eat. Zach chowed down on the cheesy garlic bread first.

  “He’s going to hit on you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.”

  “Trust me, he’s going to. Make sure you let him know you’ve got this super-hot boyfriend.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the first thing I’m going to say to him. That would be weird.”

  “I’ll come by and tell him myself,” Zach said with a wink. He was joking, at least I thought he was. “I bet Ben Morrow’s role is to get into the pants of just about every woman in the club. He’s there to increase membership.”

  “Yeah, probably. But what is my role?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “You need to ask? You’re going to do the same thing. The only mystery is how Marc’s going to achieve all this.”

  I didn’t know what Marc’s ideas were, but I was looking forward to finding out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Emma

  After a long morning of Monday classes I was happy to have the afternoon off. I went home and took the opportunity to work on my history paper in silence. I set up at our dining room table, flipping open Zach’s MacBook and getting to work. I farted around on social media first. My Facebook account had a whole thirty-two friends, mostly people I’d met in the last year. My Twitter account was more the same, but I used that mainly to see what was going on in the world. Other than that, I had nothing else. No Instagram, no Snapchat, nothing.

  Next I checked my email. Nothing of interest except an email from Dad that he forwarded to me.

  To: Paul Andrews

  From: Meredith Irvine

  Date: October 20th, 2015

  Hi Paul,

  I wanted to send you a short note thanking you for trying to reach out to Emma for me. I haven’t heard from her so I can only assume she doesn’t want to speak to me, and I don’t blame her a bit. I do hope that you can forward this email on to her to let her know that I think about her all the time, I miss having her in my life, I regret everything that’s happened in the past and that if she can ever find it in her heart to call, or even send a short email or text, I would be over the moon!

  Emma, sweetie, I know you probably hate me and I know I’ve squandered so many years, but I’m a firm believer that it’s never too late to connect. Even if it’s only once, I want to know that you’re healthy and happy. I know your dad’s done an amazing job raising you into the beautiful girl you’ve become.

  And even if you don’t want to reach out, that’s okay. If any time in the future you want to call or write, I’m always there for you. I love you.

  Mom

  Mom? She had the audacity to sign it Mom? Meredith had never been a mother to me. Sure, she sent the odd birthday and Christmas cards, but that didn’t qualify her to be a mother, at least not to me. My finger hovered over the delete button, but I stopped myself. Maybe I would reply, but it wasn’t anything Meredith wanted to hear. And Dad? How could he send this to me? Why was he on her side? I was still stewing when Zach got home. I showed him the email.

  He opened his mouth to say something then stopped. A dull groan marinated in his throat. “Em, I have a feeling that you don’t want to hear my opinion, so I think I’ll keep quiet.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Really? You’re on Team Meredith too?”

  He sighed. “No, I’m always on your team, but as an outsider looking in, she seems sincere. You don’t have to contact her, but you shouldn’t be pissed about it either. Aren’t you a little curious?”

  “No. And I find her timing suspect. I haven’t heard from her in years and all of a sudden I’m dating Zach Walker, and Mom comes around. She wants something.”

  “I guess you won’t know unless you contact her.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You did not just try to manipulate and outsmart me, did you?”

  “Kind of?” A smile crept up on his lips and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “You’re a shit.”

  “A shit who loves you.”

  I put my arms around me. “Let’s forget about her and my history paper. I want to spend the rest of the evening with my handsome boyfriend.”

  A mischievous grin spread across his face. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

  I HAD A FEW HOURS BETWEEN classes every Thursday so I retreated to the small library in the St. John’s building where I could have some study time. I’d found a little nook the previous year and enjoyed the peace and quiet of this less popular library. I was half an hour into my Civil War research paper when I heard a voice I knew all too well talking nearby. My first instinct was to cringe, then cower a bit, but slowly I lifted my gaze and there she was. Damn Bianca Smythe. She was with a guy and they spoke in low voices, unaware of me sitting ten feet behind them. I sank behind my book, making out the odd word here and there. They were study partners of some sort because he wasn’t the type of guy Bianca would date. For starters, he was shorter than her, and while I thought he was cute enough, he wouldn’t pass Bianca’s high standards and his clothes were too nerdy for her tastes.

  I peeked around my textbook and looked at the door. It was too far for me to easily slip out. I’d get her attention so my best course of action was to wait it out and hope I remained invisible.

  “Un-fucking-believable. You?”

  So much for that idea. I lowered my book and she was staring at me, her aquamarine blue eyes launching a thousand daggers.

  “Hi.” No need for me to be a bitch.

  “This university is huge, and I’ve already crossed paths with you?”

  The guy slunk off to the next section of books leaving me alone with Bianca. I was hoping she’d follow suit, but instead she moved in closer, closing the gap between us. I thought to stand, to make it a level playing field, but my legs wouldn’t move and I remained in my defenseless position.

  “I study here all the time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll have to remember that. It’s like whatever I do, there you are.”

  I pressed my li
ps together, wishing I could think of just one witty retort, but I remained silent. She rolled her eyes again and huffed. “Pathetic and still weird.”

  My blood boiled. “And you’re still a bitch.”

  Her eyes fired laser beams at me and she leaned in, narrowing the gap to less than a foot. “I would do anything to get you out of my life. Haven’t you already taken everything from me?” Her face flushed, the only time I’d ever seen her show any weakness, although the vitriol in her voice showed no sign of letting up.

  “You have nerve. You and your she-goons put me in the hospital and I’ve taken everything from you? You’re delusional.” There, I’d found my backbone.

  “You think I haven’t paid for that?”

  “Why? Because Jake dumped you? Like you weren’t going to dump him the second some hot rich guy came along.”

  In an instant life seemed to drain from her face. “I loved Jake. He was the only guy who ever respected me, who loved me, so no, you twit, I wasn’t waiting for some other guy to come along.”

  “You loved him so much you needed to rough me up a bit? Who’s the idiot?”

  A librarian came from around a corner and marched to us. “Ladies, I’ve received a complaint about the noise. I’m going to ask you to take your conversation outside.”

  Thinking Bianca would take the hint and leave, she just stood there, waiting for me to get up and follow her. A part of me wanted the confrontation, but the other part of me wanted to be done with her. With the librarian waiting, I gathered up my books and followed Bianca outside. The warm sun hit me in the face, blinding me for second. I hadn’t been outside in hours and my eyes took a moment to adjust. It would have been a perfect moment for her to punch me. She liked to hit me when I was vulnerable.

  “You have everything now,” Bianca said, continuing her assault. “You have Zach and his friends. You have his pull. You have my fucking life!”

  “No, I don’t,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sunshine. “And what makes you think I’d want your life?”

  “You went up to Brett’s cabin. I know you were there.”

 

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