Chapter 29
Rori
“Hi, sweetheart, I’ve got news,” my dad says as soon as I pick up his call.
I’m on my way to Pinnacle for the day, and I put him on speaker once I hit a red light.
“Morning, is it about the house?” I ask with a little dread creeping in, knowing that showings have been hot and heavy. With Wimbledon over, he’d finally taken the step to put it on the market.
“Yes,” he responds. “We had an offer come in five figures over asking price, all cash.”
“Okay, sheesh!”
“Yes, so I took it,” Dad continues. “Thirty days to close, but there shouldn’t be any issues with a cash offer.”
I stay quiet. I knew this was on the horizon, but the fact that Dad took the offer without talking to me first stings.
I’ve been trying to support his wishes, which are entirely understandable, but the sale of our house, it’s the end of a major phase of my life. Our life.
I wish he’d given me a minute before he pulled the trigger.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks.
I take a second to gather my thoughts. I don’t want him to feel bad, after everything he’s done for me, but at the same time, I’m hurt.
One of the things that the situation with Landon has inspired in me, though, is being honest about how I’m feeling. In the past, I’ve held so much in and just shut people out. I don’t want to do that with Dad.
“This is just a lot. Saying goodbye to a piece of my childhood, you know?” I think through all of the major milestones in that house since I was ten. So many memories with Dad, my friends, my tennis. “I wish you’d told me before you took the offer.”
“You’ll still have those memories,” Dad responds, as if he can hear my thoughts. “I’m really sorry that I didn’t talk to you first. I got excited and didn’t even think. It was thoughtless of me.”
“Thanks Dad, it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Just need a moment to digest it.”
“Understandable, sweetheart,” he says. I can hear the sadness in his tone that he hurt me. “We’ll find a time where you can get anything you want out of your room before we pack it up.”
I sigh. This is really happening.
It’s rare that I’m upset at Dad, and I try to navigate my feelings, knowing that he didn’t mean anything bad by what he did.
On the flip side, it’s also grating on me a little that he still hasn’t come clean about his situation with Julie—if there is one? I’m still not 100% certain that I haven’t invented this.
It’s frustrating not to know for sure, but at the same time, I half don’t want to know, unless it’s serious. The whole thing seems messy when I think about it, and I hate messy situations, so maybe it’s better to block the whole possibility out.
Nevermind that I’m in a secret relationship myself now, so I guess I’m a big hypocrite. Dad and Julie still have no clue about Landon.
“Dad, hey, I’m pulling into Pinnacle now, so I’ll talk to you later,” I say as the big sign for our tennis complex comes into view.
Pinnacle is busy today, with players at all levels filling the courts. It’s surreal, but my practices tend to attract a crowd these days, with the kids here for lessons stopping and watching.
I’m used to a big audience, so that aspect doesn’t phase me too much. It’s just crazy how much has changed, that anyone even cares to watch me practice. One other new thing to get used to with the success this year.
Lunchtime brings some unwanted drama, however. In an interview that hit social media today, Tessa had some words about me, presumably to get under my skin.
“This is some load of BS,” Peter says, looking at his phone. “I’m sorry, Rori.”
“Yeah, doesn’t she know how petty and small it makes her look?” Maggie says.
A group of us—including other players, coaches and trainers—are sitting around on the deck of our practice facility’s clubhouse with our lunch.
“Rori’s overrated,” Maggie repeats Tessa’s quote to a British paper, using a mocking nasal tone. “I won’t be surprised if she gets knocked out of the U.S. Open early.” Maggie throws her phone face down, eyes rolling.
“Fuck that, you’re going to win the whole thing,” Malcolm says loyally.
He has been trying out our facility this week, in anticipation of pulling the trigger on the move from California.
“That’s what I think too,” Peter says. “It’s your time for a Slam, Rori.”
I appreciate their faith in me, but now I’ve got to deliver.
And in reality, Tessa’s comments do the opposite of what she probably intended. I’m not letting that child psych me out of another win.
Tellingly, my afternoon practice is incredible. Her words are the fuel for my driving forehands and pinpoint serves.
“That’s what I’m talking about, Rori,” Julie says as we leave the courts. “Great job today.”
I’m drenched with sweat but feeling fully satisfied.
As I drive to Landon’s later, and the miles to Orlando click by, I take stock again. I’m more determined to win the U.S. Open than ever. And nothing’s going to mess with my head on the pathway there.
Whatever it takes, I need to stay focused.
Coming up first is another round of late summer warm-up tournaments in Canada and Cincinnati.
We have careful plans to make sure I don’t peak early during those weeks, saving my best play for the second week of September—the last week of the U.S.
Open. Still, I expect to make the finals of each, at a minimum.
Landon will be at training camp and have preseason games during my warm-up tournaments. His first two regular season games are during the two weeks of the U.S. Open.
AKA—the chaos of our schedules is about to elevate big-time.
So this night is the last calm before the storm. Tomorrow morning, he goes into camp, and tomorrow evening, I’ll stay back in Tampa instead of driving to Orlando.
Tonight, it’s just us, enjoying one last moment before all these other demands start pulling us in different directions.
Except maybe it’s not just us. When the door opens to his house, Grace is standing there.
“Rori, hi,” she says, giving me a quick hug and ushering me in.
“It’s nice to see you again,” I say.
She walks over to the couch, where a large book is sitting. “Landon’s in the kitchen. I’m on my way out, I’d just forgotten a textbook here.”
“Thanks, I’ll head there,” I say back with a smile, secretly relieved I’ll still have Landon to myself for the night.
It’s hard to think about how much we’ll be apart over the next six weeks. I know it’s going to feel like something’s missing without him around. You’d think I’d be used to the time apart by now, but everything has intensified between us.
I’ve never been emotionally tethered to another person before, and while I’m still processing everything he said on the boat, I know there’s something more here. It’s definitely an adjustment.
Maggie had given me a pep talk when I admitted this to her yesterday.
“This is normal. He’s filled in gaps in your life that you didn’t know existed before. Keep your eyes on tennis for the next few weeks and do you. It’ll fly by.”
Landon’s eyes light up as I walk into the kitchen, and he pulls me into a hug.
“Hey babe.” His arms around me feel like anchors, grounding me against the sea of craziness to come.
I just hope I can hold onto this feeling for the next eight weeks.