A Game to Love

by Fox Brison

  ***

  Thirty minutes later I’d worked up more of a sweat with this kid than I ever had with Adam. I wondered if his parents would let me coach him. He had potential and clearly enjoyed the game, once he was encouraged properly. We began walking towards the seating area and it was then I noticed Dana sitting very close to Emma with a possessive looking hand on her knee, and I quickly put two and two together.

  And came up with twenty five.

  “Oh hey,” I went for professional, rather than personal in front of the boy who was actually rather good fun, and, hopefully, going to be my new student. “Dr Myers. I was just giving Lanky here a lesson.”

  “Lanky?”

  “Sorry, old habit. I’m not good with names so I give all my students nicknames instead.”

  “What’s my Mum’s?” The lad asked as we stood looking up at Dana and Emma.

  “Your Mum’s?” I asked. Oh God I hope it wasn’t that woman throwing herself at me by the water fountain. “Well I’d have to meet her first, Lanky. I can’t just give her a nickname like… oh I don’t know,” I looked at some of the mothers hanging around, busy swiping their iPads as they searched for designer handbags, “’yummy mummy’ of course springs to mind. And ‘ignoring mummy’ is quite popular this season. Then there’s ‘Nose Job Nelly, Face Lift Francesca or even Boob Job Betty.’ Now they are personal favourites.” I reacted to the stunned silence. “What? Too rude?”

  “Too accurate,” Dana muttered as one such mother walked by.

  “Hey, George,” she said to a nearly oblivious me.

  “Oh, hey… erm…”

  “Try yummy mummy,” Lanky whispered.

  “Lawrie!” Emma said, although the corners of her lips turned up slightly.

  “Lawrie. Hey isn’t that the name of…” realisation dawned. Okay so two and two now make thirty five. “Oh… oh right. And Dana is?” Please don’t say his other mother. Please.

  “His godmother.”

  “Right. Okay. Good.” I decided there and then that Emma’s nickname would be ‘dishy doc.’

  “And Emma’s best friend.” Dana added protectively. Yeah, there wasn’t a warning in those four words.

  Much.

  “George taught me how to do a proper serve, Mum. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “That’s beyond awesome,” Emma answered with a smile.

  “So can she coach me all the time? George I mean.”

  “Oh no, I’m sure Georgy has-” Emma began.

  “That’d be great… oh.” Both of us had spoken at the same time and I admit it hurt when I realised Emma didn’t want me around her kid. I didn’t understand it either. We’d had such a great time talking the day before.

  Emma Myers confused the hell out of me.

  “Actually Lawrie...”

  “It’s alright I understand.” Lawrie sat down and began playing with his shoelaces, which were still perfectly tied.

  “Hey, kid, what do you understand?” I touched his shoulder to get his attention and knelt down so he couldn’t avoid eye contact with me. The background hum of children’s voices and tennis balls bouncing on the hard surface almost drowned out his next words.

  “You only played tennis with me ‘cos of my Mum.”

  “Nope, I didn’t even know she was your Mum when we started playing. I can’t coach you because it would be a conflict of interest. Dr Myers, aka your mum, is my psychologist.”

  “What if she wasn’t your therapist?”

  “Then I’d take you on like a shot. Your coach is a numpty. I hate men like him.”

  “Are you mis… misandthric?”

  “I don’t have a clue what that means. Sorry.” I smiled, comfortable enough to admit I didn’t know something a fourteen year old did.

  “He means a misandrist. It’s the female equivalent of a misogynist.” Emma explained. “Although where you heard-”

  “Aunt Dana told me about it.” Lawrie defended himself. “About how some people are simply bigoted no matter what. And women can be bigots too, though sometimes they are called feminists.”

  “Lawrie!” Dana exclaimed. “I said no such thing. About the feminists I mean. The rest, mea culpe.”

  I laughed at both Emma and Dana’s appalled expression. “No off switch have you, kid?” I said to Lawrie. “No I’m not a misandrist, not at all. Between you and me, Lanky, I don’t like Adam because he’s a lazy coach. If he spent as much time teaching as pretending to teach…” I stopped talking as Adam approached.

  “Georgy,” he practically sneered then slicked his receding hair back over his bald spot, “Emma, it’s a pleasure as always.”

  “Smarmy prick,” I whispered under my breath. I wanted to rip Adam a new one for even looking at Emma, jealousy an emotion I held in abundance and easily recognised, and it was something I wasn’t proud of. Gritting my teeth, I twirled my racket and began tapping a ball on the head. “Adam, time’s a wasting, and I’m feeling a mite frisky.” And more than a mite frustrated, I added to myself.

  “In a minute,” Adam waved me off. “So, Emma, Lawrie’s making great strides. Maybe we could get together for a drink one evening to discuss where he’s going with it all?”

  “Coach Johnson thank you, but if we have anything to discuss about Lawrie’s game it would be best to have that conversation here and with him involved. He’s the player, not me.”

  Well played, I mentally congratulated Emma. “Right, Adam, now you’ve crashed and burned, let’s see if you can return at least one forehand today.” I headed for the far end of the court away from the other coaches, but I could still hear Adam chuntering to Emma. He was moving higher on my shit list for a variety of reasons and I was fuming at his obsequious fawning. He was giving the coaches here a bad name.

  Yeah, you keep telling yourself it’s your name you’re worried about.

  “Emma, I don’t mean to be a gossip, but there’s something you should know. George may not be the best influence on impressionable youngsters?”

  “No?” Emma asked coldly.

  “Well, you know,” he leant forward, “the drug ban. It was in all the papers. She’s an addict.”

  “Drug ban? Mum?” Lawrie turned and looked at his mother and Dana.

  Oh hell no, Adam you fuckwit, you are not going to do this to me. I turned and headed back towards them.

  “Lawrie, George made a mistake when she was younger. She has paid for her mistake, and paid a much higher price than she would have if she’d been a normal kid experimenting at a party. The important thing is she learned from her mistake and is now trying to rectify it by fulfilling her potential as a top class tennis player. And Mr Johnson, who my son spends his time with is my concern not yours.” Emma cut him to the quick and I smiled.

  You don’t defend someone like that if you don’t have at least some feelings for them.

  Chapter 29

  Emma

  “Can we watch Georgy for a minute?” Lawrie said sitting down, not waiting for an answer. “Coach shouldn’t have said that. About George being an addict. It wasn’t fair.”

  “Good man,” Dana leant over the barrier and ruffled his hair, “I guess pizza can wait five more minutes. She’s hot,” she then added sotto voce to me. “I can see why you’re having difficulties. I must say I’d possibly be tempted too. That smile…that bod…”

  I realised Dana was pushing and prodding me into making a slip. “And she’s my client.”

  “She’s clearly sweet and kind.”

  “And she’s my client.”

  “She’s good with Lawrie. Understanding.”

  “And-”

  “I get it, I do. But I see the way she looks at you and I see the way you look at her. It’s just a shame that’s all.” Dana squeezed my thigh gently in sympathy. “There are other therapists out there should you want to explore-”

  “Excuse me.” We both turned when a cold voice interrupted our conversation and stomped down the stairs next to us.

  “Oh shit,” I
whispered. “Could tonight get any worse? How much do you think she overheard?”

  “Probably nothing,” Dana said.

  “Which means everything. Lawrie,” I called and he turned. “Time to go, sweetie.”

  “But, Mum. Look,” he pointed at George who was clearly enjoying thrashing Adam around the court. “She’s awesome. Five more minutes, please.”

  “Five more minutes,” I agreed, reluctantly and began watching the interplay between George and Julia, for no other reason than it was my job. Yeah, I admit it. I really sucked at this justifying my curiosity malarkey.

  “Hey, Jules,” George called after sending a venomous backhand down the line. She grinned, impishly as Adam chased down the loose ball like a little puppy. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Milton Keynes for the next few days.”

  “So did I. That fe… bloody eejit boss of mine sent Michael Trotter instead and didn’t even have the good grace to text me.”

  “So no ogling tight shorts?”

  “Nope. But in other news, Sally just texted.” Julia grinned and waggled her eyebrows. I could see Georgy immediately tighten and her next shot went wide.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No”

  “Yes.”

  I listened and watched the verbal tennis with interest. Julia was definitely more like family.

  “No, no, no, no, no!”

  “Yes. You know you want to. Indeed, it would be rude not to.” Julia kept glancing our way. I wondered if she was aware their voices were carrying?

  “The last time we went to karaoke I had to carry you out over my shoulder whilst you were still singing ‘I Will Survive.’” Georgia reminded her. “And that woman, what was her name? Anyway, she practically chased me down the street trying to get your number.”

  Julia shrugged dramatically. “Ah yes. Good times.”

  “I’ll go shower and change,” George finally admitted defeat. “I hope we’re eating first.”

  “We are.”

  “And not at the golden arches,” Georgia called as she headed for the showers.

  “And yes at the golden arches,” Julia called back, equally as loud. “I swear that girl needs more fat on her, give us mere mortals half a chance,” she shook her head with a smile.

  “Give me a second, will you?” Before I could say yea or nay, Dana was off to flirt, with Julia clearly in her sights.

  Mind, she got on as well as Olaf would have in hell – during the Summer Solstice. She soon returned with her figurative tail firmly tucked between her legs and a sheepish smile on her face.

  “Guess Adam wasn’t the only one to crash and burn today,” I whispered softly.

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t bring my A game, not in front of the children,” Dana replied with a blustering grin.

  But I have to admit to being a touch jealous. Dana could buy, well she could at least try to buy, when all I could do was window shop and pine.

  ***

  The pizza restaurant was busy, the usual array of families and students mixed with a couple of suited and booted accountants, judging from their conversations about mutual bonds. The wait staff were rushed off their feet and Lawrie was at the salad bar.

  “Do you think there’s something going on between George and Julia?”

  I wondered how long it would take Dana to bring up the redhead. She surprised me with the speed though. “No,” I said whilst watching my son pile his salad plate high. “Why? Do you?”

  “No,” she said, a touch hesitantly. “But I think Julia might like me.”

  “What’s not to like?” I teased. “Have you ever seen him,” I flicked my head at Lawrie, “eat his greens voluntarily?”

  “I betcha your new crush has something to do with it,” Dana raised her eyebrows.

  “I would agree. She was with him, what, twenty, thirty minutes? And she has him eating salad out the palm of her hand.”

  “Like mother like son.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So Julia. Sounds like there’s a little more than simple curiosity.”

  “You know I’m a sucker for redheads. And that laugh, it was what… loud? Happy? Definitely infectious. And her curves... I mean come on… wow.”

  “You are such a guy sometimes,” I chastised.

  “I know, I know. But like you I am bound by some principles. She’s only, what, twenty-six.”

  “I’d say so. George told me they started school together. She looks young though. God they both do. What were we doing at their age?”

  “Still studying. You had Lawrie in Kindergarten.”

  “Christ, I wish all I had to worry about was the age gap, that’s a minor skin irritation. It’s the client thing that’s the full blown rash accompanied by hives and blistered pustules.”

  “Nice image. I hope we aren’t getting meatballs on the pizza. Hey, Lawrie, that looks healthy.” Dana said to Lawrie when he returned to the table.

  “Yeah we had a lesson today in PSHE about healthy eating.” Lawrie tried a morsel of lettuce. He screwed his face up as if he were doing a trial on a reality show that involved him having to eat creepy crawlies whilst drinking the rancid milk of a yak.

  “At school?” I looked relieved.

  “At school. Duh, where else would we have PSHE?”

  “I genuinely don’t know,” I said trying to hide my smile.

  “Olivia eats them all the time for lunch. She says they’re scrummy.”

  “And are they?” Dana asked, also stifling a laugh. It looked like there was a crush epidemic at the Wilson/Myers table.

  “Nuh huh. They’re bloody awful.” He pushed his plate away.

  “Lawrie, language!” he looked to the heavens. “Try some salad dressing,” I passed him the bottle and soon his lettuce was doing the backstroke across a sea of honey mustard sauce.

  “Oh yes, that’s better,” he mumbled, his mouth full. “Besides, George said it’s important to have a balanced diet. She said she had this amazing dinner last night, broccoli and sea bass and other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?” I looked offended that my gourmet fare was described as other stuff. Dana chuckled.

  Lawrie may have talked a good game, but the salad was soon forgotten once the pizza arrived. “Oh great, here’s the pizza!” He took a massive slice, then another for good measure. I sensed a subtle shift in him, he was far less angry; he also didn’t look as if he was going to die from embarrassment at being seen with his mother and aunt in public.

  It wasn’t much but I’d gladly take it.

  ***

  Dana and I went our separate ways after we’d finished dinner, even though she was supposed to come back to mine to talk. Seems she had something more important to do. Paperwork to take care of, or so she said.

  “I think it’s a social experiment you’re more interested in,” I teased as she kissed my cheek goodbye.

  Dana looked pensive. “I think this might be one experiment that remains incomplete due to the variables not matching.”

  “The Birdcage is a great venue for karaoke. It normally revs up about nine, nine thirty. If anyone were interested in a social experiment. About singing. In lesbian bars. Just to make that particular point clear.” I said and chuckled as Dana blushed and left with a wave.

  Lawrie and I returned home and for once he didn’t run straight to his room. “Your tennis is looking promising. Are you enjoying it?” I asked.

  “It’s okay. I was thinking about maybe having a couple of lessons a week?” he said flicking through the channels. He stopped at a programme about miracles of engineering in the 1800s.

  “I can arrange that, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork.” I was relieved in part. It meant Lawrie’s friends wouldn’t be around as much and that was a bonus. However, I wondered about my son’s sudden desire to play more tennis.

  “It won’t. I had a great time at Dad’s.”

  I steeled myself. I hated being the bad guy but James wasn’t leaving me any choic
e. Lawrie couldn’t go and live with his father because his father didn’t want him interfering with his freedom.

  Arse.

  “It’s okay, Mum. Dad explained I can’t go and live with him.” He passed me the tv remote and my heart broke a little at the look of rejection and devastation on his face. “I’ve seen this one about the Bell Rock Lighthouse and I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.” I watched him traipse up the stairs.

  Fair enough, I hadn’t wanted him to go and live with James, but there must have been words said, words that hurt Lawrie.

  Sometimes I really could kill the father of my child.

  Chapter 30

  Georgia

  A night on the town was the last thing I fancied, but Julia, even though she tried hard to hide it, was totally bummed about losing the roller derby gig and well sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do. Especially when said girl’s best friend is in a desperate need for alcoholic cheering up. Although saying that, by nine pm my sense of duty was seriously on the wane.

  As was my tolerance for terrible singing.

  “Bloody hell. Look who the cat dragged in!” Julia shouted into my ear and I turned to look over my shoulder,

  “Who? Oh, Dana.” I quickly looked to see if Emma was with her but, alas, I wasn’t that lucky.

  “Hi, Julia, George. It’s chocka in here. Have you sung yet?” Dana smiled a little nervously.

  “No, Georgy doesn’t sing. And I only sing when my vocal chords have been well-lubricated.” Julia was feeling guilty. She’d told me about her brief conversation with Dana at the tennis centre.

  “I was a total bitch, George. I was in a foul mood with Daniel and I’m ashamed to say she bore the brunt.”

  “And are they lubricated enough yet?” Dana asked. “Bottle of Parker’s please. Are you two okay?”

  “Fine thanks,” I answered.

  “Julia?” Dana asked an incredibly distracted Julia.

  “Hmm? Sorry? Oh yes please, white wine.” Julia flicked her head toward the door and I saw Tara, my disastrous booty call, enter the bar.