by Lola Keeley
Toni had initially refused to travel by private jet, horrified by the environmental impact, but ultimately our slightly sickening desire not to be apart won her over. She was an official convert when she didn’t have to take her week’s worth of kit through security and baggage claim, kicking back with some champagne almost right away.
As an additional bonus, Alice had driven down to fly with us. She had some big collectors in Miami, and I’d been happy to give her whatever tickets she needed to impress them. While she couldn’t give a damn about tennis, a lot of other people did, and it was an easy way to kiss up to rich art buyers and have some fun in the evenings too.
“You’re late,” I told Alice as she stepped on board. “Honestly, we’re taking so many people it’s starting to feel like coach in here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Elin,” my mother scolded on her way past to help herself to the champagne. “And have a drink. It might make you better at sharing.”
“Is that official coaching advice?” I asked, doing exactly as I was told. “To increase my chances of winning the Miami Masters, drink more alcohol?”
“Wow, you’re showing your age, lady,” Alice warned. “Even I know it’s not called the Masters anymore.”
I gave her a little smack on the back of the head as I passed, taking the seat next to Toni.
“This isn’t too much, right?” I asked quietly. “The family, the travelling together… If we need to slow down, just tell me.”
“Nah, dragging things out and pretending not to like each other as much as we do? That’s for straight people. I much prefer it our way. As long as I’m not cramping your style.”
“Darling, I have no style,” I reminded her, leaning across for a kiss without caring that other people were around. It was freeing in a way I could easily get addicted to, so I did it again for good measure.
“Okay, you two,” Alice warned. “I didn’t sign up for the Love Boat, so chill.”
I smirked at her but sat back in my own seat ready for take-off.
Celeste retired in the third round with a hamstring problem, and Toni made it to the quarters before Fatima put her out in straight sets. The crowds had been in party mode for all the first week, so I was only a little jealous when I had to stay serious and focused going into the second week, while everyone else seemed to get into the almost carnival atmosphere. I’d even spotted my own mother with a flower in her hair, flirting her little heart out with some pop star half her age. If she knew he was gay, it didn’t slow her down one bit.
The Hard Rock Stadium was a pretty fun place to play in the end, and the day of the final felt like spring break for grown-ups. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed going into a big match, and the credit was mostly Toni’s.
“You keep playing like this,” she told me, “and you’ll break the record this year, you know that? You only need two, and you’ll walk it in Paris if you play this well.”
“No, that’s over-confidence,” I warned her. “You can think it all you want, but I can’t let myself believe you. Besides, you’re on track for your all-important first slam if you keep this up. And get past me, duh.”
Mostly, I didn’t want our Miami bubble to pop. Next week, Toni was off to play in Charleston, and I had a week at home. Alice had already started drawing up the plans for my foundation, so time would be taken up on that. A first real step to life after tennis, which I couldn’t wait for.
Because although I was enjoying my tennis again, playing well and hopefully about to chalk up another trophy, most of all I wanted to find out what was on the other side of all this. Part of me knew that staying on the tour would keep my path crossing with Toni’s more often than not. But then there would be months like this one coming, where I could be in Lugano while she was in Bogotá, meeting up again in Stuttgart for a week only to split again for Prague and Morocco. That was before we counted the skippable tournaments for me, or the few that inevitably fell to injury here and there, even for the less serious aches and pains.
A little voice somewhere in the back of my head, the kind that only spoke up in the middle of the night when I was struggling to find sleep, kept suggesting that if only one of us was still playing, the other would be free to just follow that one schedule. It was way too soon to think about living together, about big commitments, but the touring life had the benefit of all that togetherness without exactly having to make it official.
Not that I brought up the subject. If I missed Stuttgart, we’d miss each other for most of a month until reuniting in Madrid at the start of May. Hardly unbearable, but it would certainly be a test.
“What are you thinking about?” Toni asked as I pulled on my socks and trainers, ready for the match.
“Babies,” I blurted out without thinking. “Um, I mean. Someone asked the other day if I wanted kids. So I was thinking about babies.”
I expected her to laugh at me like she usually did. I had a habit of just saying my first thought around her already.
“Really? Is that part of the whole walk-away-from-tennis thing? Or are you going to have a baby and come back?”
“Woah, woah, wait. Nobody said anything about having one, not for a long while. But yeah, I’ve realised it’s probably something I want to do. Or at least think about. I’ve never let myself do that before.”
Toni walked over to the window, even though we’d probably memorised the view by this point.
“Yeah, me either. And Elin, I know we’re not… I mean, nobody is even thinking about… But I’m not there yet. I’m not where you are on the whole career thing. If I can play until I hit thirty-two, or longer, I want to stay in as long as I can.”
“I know.” I stood, shoes tied just right, and went over to hug her from behind. “We’re at two different stages, and a lot of the time we’ll be in two different places. But maybe there’s no reason, once we work out our own part, why we can’t try to combine the two. Sometimes. A lot of times.”
“I’d like that,” Toni whispered, leaning back against me, her eyes closed. I kissed her neck gently, leaving her room to talk. “But I worry. You’re so…you. The best at this, and you’re halfway done with it. I worry that when you leave tennis, you’re going to leave me with it. Which—again—way too much assuming and jumping ahead.”
“Trust me, if there’s one thing I’ve learned these past few weeks, it’s that this damn sport can’t be so bad as long as you’re in it. The rest is details. We work those out as we go. And if things get serious, we make serious decisions.”
“I should go,” Toni replied, and I could feel her pulling away before she even attempted to actually leave my arms. Something inside her had closed down to me, and I had no idea what.
“Will you still come cheer me on?” I asked, confused and unable to hide it from her.
“Of course,” she said. “Now get out there and win yourself another trophy.”
So I did. It would be rude to refuse a lady’s request, right?
The celebrations in Miami were wilder too, and I was actually looking forward to the fancy dinner and maybe dancing afterwards. The clubs here had something for everyone, and I could spend a late night out with salsa music quite happily. That had been the plan anyway, until Toni pulled me aside during the post-match handshakes.
“Listen, I didn’t check my flights until this afternoon, I actually have to go.”
“Wait, we can rebook—”
“I can’t, there’s a photo call in the morning with the mayor, it’s a whole big deal. I’ll call you, okay? And congratulations, gorgeous.”
“Toni, wait!”
She leaned across to kiss my cheek, barely lingering. A moment later, she was gone, lost in the crowd. Even if I could spot her I couldn’t have followed; there were still a bunch of people waiting to meet me including a couple of kids who’d won a contest. I kept checking my phone, but no more
explanation came.
Just when I thought I could finally sneak off, maybe head to the airport and see if I could still catch up to Toni, I felt an irritating tap on my shoulder.
“Elin.”
“Mira. You know, it actually hurts when you dig at a collarbone that way.” I folded my arms, our alliance fragile in the absence of Toni.
“Yes, I’ll try to remember you’re so breakable. I know Antonia already left, but in a moment you’re going to be asked to step into a room with some representatives from the GTA. They’re not happy you’ve been avoiding them since last week, so take this meeting. Understood?”
“Mira, I’m not going because they click their fingers. They know where I am.”
“Oh, for the love of… They’re angry with you, can’t you see that? Otherwise it would have been dropped. So make nice, just enough for the issue to carry on. Is that so much to ask?”
“We’ll see,” I replied. I didn’t enjoy being told what to do, and even less by Mira. Before I could complain to her, I was being approached by a little posse of men in suits. Something the press in the room noticed almost instantly, despite the fact I’d been shaking hands with all kinds of people for over an hour.
“Miss Larsson, we really do need to talk. You haven’t collected your prize money yet, so why don’t we do both at once?”
It wasn’t like I still had to pick up a cheque. I simply went in to sign and the money went by wire transfer. All one million and something dollars of it.
Mira glared at me from the side, and so I relented. “Okay, but I don’t have long. My sponsors are expecting me for a reception.”
Both true and not. They’d be cracking the champagne because I’d won again with their logos on my sleeve, beamed to screens and printed on pages all over the world.
They ushered me into a faceless office, occupied by one large desk and a couple of chairs. I stood tall despite still being in my match clothes, hands on my hips to stop me from fidgeting.
“I’m not sure what you need to talk to me about, but—”
“Miss Larsson, we need to inform you that recent remarks you made at Indian Wells are considered by the disciplinary committee to be bringing the game into disrepute.”
Okay. That shut me up. At least for a minute. I just stared, waiting for some kind of explanation.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“In recognition of your incredible career and excellent disciplinary record, the committee also decided that it would be acceptable to offer you a warning in private. That would give you the chance to retract and apologise, with no further action being taken.”
“Now hold on one minute. Why would I take back what I said?”
“Elin, please.” The guy talking seemed to think we knew each other. Maybe we did, but he was unremarkable. Was it possible I had that face blindness I read about on a long plane journey once? Or just terminally bad with names? More likely. “This can all go away. You’re not even affected by the accusation you made.”
“And yet you’re already looking to punish me,” I pointed out. “How much more would you crack down on someone whose career wasn’t incredible and whose disciplinary record wasn’t excellent?”
“All you have to do is mention at one of your next press conferences—it doesn’t have to be today—that you wanted to withdraw your remarks. The company who provide our drug testing and other medical services are one of our most important partners. Without them, we’d end up with less money for prize money and other important things.” Another suit explained it like I didn’t know how our corporate world worked.
“And if I don’t?” I had to ask. If I was going to stand up for the people who mattered to me, I was going to know the consequences. “What if someone else raises the same complaint? Because others are angry too, including the women treated unfairly.”
“Further disciplinary action. Including considerable fines and possible suspension from competition.”
“Suspension from what? A week in some minor tournament?” I scoffed.
“For up to three months,” the first man replied. “Including the French Open.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I didn’t tell anyone what the meeting had been about for days. Maybe it was stupid to sit on the threat, but I hadn’t tried to retract my statement at the press conference either. One thing was sure: I really didn’t want to do that. It would be selling out my friends on an issue I believed was a genuine injustice.
Maybe if I’d been around Toni I would have spilled sooner, but with her in Charleston and me moping around at home in Los Angeles, the opportunity didn’t come up. Our calls were brief, and I could feel the slight chill between us even in texts. I should have been diving in to solve that issue, but the black cloud hanging over my career consumed too much time and effort.
Over lunch with Alice at Beverly Glen Deli, we talked about our plan for a global LGBTQ charity. I had to hand it to my sister—she’d taken half a sentence of an idea and turned it into something real seemingly in a couple of weeks.
“So what’s up with you, Elin? I know you’re not playing much this month, but straight into the comfort food?”
I’d ordered a grilled cheese that came with scrambled egg inside it, something of a diner special. It also tended to put unsuspecting diners into a food coma, but I could handle it. I’d have to put an extra half hour on my workout that afternoon, but it would be worth it.
“Toni’s being distant.”
“Isn’t she literally a great distance away in…not here?”
I nodded. “It’s just awkward, that’s all. Once we’re in Europe again, when the flights are two hours instead of half a day, it’ll be easier to hang out.”
“Did you guys have a fight, or did you call it off for the different countries and now you’re regretting it? You shouldn’t be so hung up on monogamy; you just met the girl. By your standards.”
“No, I wasn’t… We haven’t even talked about that. She caught me off guard, though, and I blurted out something about babies and she started stressing about how we’re at different career stages and…ugh.”
Alice let her head thud against the table. “What are we going to do with you?” She sat up again to point at me. “You have truly achieved peak lesbian this time. Are you sure U-Haul aren’t one of your sponsors?”
“It was just a conversation! I wasn’t asking her to knock me up!”
Tilting her head, Alice tutted at me. “You have got to learn to be cool. Anyway, text her about it and say you were joking. Break the ice in case she thinks next time she sees you will be with a turkey baster.”
“Any more lesbian-pregnancy material to come? Or is your stand-up routine done for today?”
Alice reached across and patted me on the head. “All done. So when do you play next?”
“Madrid. Mamma didn’t enter me for Stuttgart, and it’s too late now. So I’m going to head back to Stockholm on Monday, spend some time with Dad. I haven’t really seen him since Wimbledon in July, and you know how bad he is on the phone.”
“Oh, yeah. He was over for my show, but then it was something in New York. If he can get off the boat long enough you might even see him.”
“Come with me!” I said. “We’ve never been back all as a family, and with the house on the market, this might genuinely be the last time. Actually, when is the last time you went back?”
“Are you paying for the food or am I? I should get back to work.”
“No you don’t,” I replied. “You know, most of the time I just swing by between tournaments, but it’s pretty weird you never come for Christmas, or even just when you know we’ll all be there after Wimbledon. What is that about, huh?”
“Okay, so you’re paying. Read that plan, and if you like it, get your attorney on board. We’ll have to appoint a foundation manager first to get everything up and running.
Bye, Elin.”
I had officially had enough of people making sharp exits on me. Throwing down some bills on the table, I made sure to leave a generous tip before jogging out after my sister. Her heels were no match for my legs over short distances.
“Hey!”
“Back off, Elin. I told you, work.”
Alice had parked her jeep two spaces down from my car, so I wasn’t really going anywhere.
“Okay, I’m going to tell you something I didn’t say in there,” I said. “The powers that be have told me to withdraw my accusation, apologise and deny there was ever a problem. If I don’t? Fines, for sure. Maybe even banned for the French.”
“Well, who really wants to go to Paris in July?” Alice asked, still not facing me.
“May,” I corrected. “I told you my secret. So now you tell me what you weren’t saying back there.”
Alice fiddled with her keys, sighing before she turned around and made her admission.
“There’s a reason I insist on English, El. Same reason I don’t want to go back to Sweden if I can avoid it. Back there I have this little shadow following me around, the hint of everyone else’s memories of someone I never really was.”
“Alice…”
“No, it’s okay. Here I’ve only ever been Alice. Everyone has only known me as I am, as I should be. It wasn’t so bad going back at first, but then that nasty tabloid ran their story on me and everything I thought I had left behind was thrown in my face.”
I reached out to her, pulling her into a hug that I hoped would say more than my words. “We all know who you are, Alice. Who you were always meant to be. And if anyone, anyone ever said anything—”
“That’s the thing. If it happens, you get to have the fight. You’re ready for the fight over it. I like my life here, where I don’t have to be on guard, where I don’t have to be insulted or deadnamed or have anything bad happen to me, just so someone can step in and prove what a great ally they are.”
