Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
NAOMI
Ihad the kind of family that, when I’d gone into the group chat and asked if I could call a last-minute family dinner, they all said yes, and by the time I got home—where I lived with my siblings—from work, my dad was already in the middle of making said dinner.
By the smell of it, some kind of curry. Probably chicken.
“Hey, you didn’t have to cook,” I said as I pressed a kiss to my dad’s cheek while he carried on chopping onions. I peered into one of the pots on the hob and, sure enough, a chicken curry was simmering away, and he was in the early stages of making his pilau rice.
“It’s not a problem, Mimi.”
“And saves me a job,” Alisha said from where she was sitting at the kitchen table in the corner of the room, with Mum on one side and Wyatt on the other.
Before I could comment on the fact that she no longer did all the cooking, our black German Shepherd, Logan, bounded over to me, wagging his tail so hard it overtook his whole body.
I dropped onto the floor and made a fuss over him. Within a few minutes, he was done with me and trotted over to Dad, lying at his feet, to see if he could get any scraps that may fall to the floor. I didn’t move from my spot and just watched Logan’s ribcage rise and fall.
“Are you going to make us wait until we’ve eaten to tell us why you called a family meeting?” Wyatt said.
The sound of Dad’s chopping stilled, and I could feel the weight of all four of them looking at me.
I dragged my eyes away from the dog and looked at my brother.
“I want to go back to playing tennis. More accurately, I want a chance to compete for the medal. One year more. Then it’s done.”
The silence seemed to drag on for ages. I looked back at Logan to check he was still breathing because even he was quiet. He was already looking at me like he understood what I’d just said.
Wyatt broke the silence. “It’s technically just over a year,” he said with a wry smile.
“The Olympics are in Madrid,” my mum offered.
“I know. And I still want to try anyway.”
“That’s not going to be easy. A lot of incredible women have cropped up on the tour since you’ve been gone, and you’ll have to really fight for it. Are you sure you’re up for that?” she continued.
Up until I was twenty-five, my mum was my coach.
It felt like a natural fit given that she was a tennis player herself before she got pregnant with me and had worked within the sport for most of my childhood.
She understood the game, she understood me, and as a junior, the partnership worked perfectly.
The first cracks started to show when I chose to go to uni instead of turning pro.
She reluctantly accepted that she wasn’t going to change my mind, but she frequently made comments about how I was wasting my talent by not being out on the tour while I was still young.
Mum was proud of me when I graduated, but I think she was more excited about me finally going pro.
Once that happened, tennis became her whole life.
My career became her whole life, and it dawned on me that I no longer had a mum.
I had a coach, and the only thing we spoke about was tennis.
Sitting her down to tell her I wanted to dissolve our coaching arrangement was, up until that point, the worst day of my professional career, because I was convinced we would never find our way back to any kind of relationship.
But I was wrong, and over the years, it had improved.
Because she wasn’t allowed to comment on my career or the way I played tennis at all anymore.
Sometimes, she broke that rule in the most savage ways.
“Mum, the tour was never easy. I’m under no illusion that it’s going to be a walk in the park. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”
“No, of course not. It’s—”
“Mum,” Wyatt cut in, and my shoulders dropped away from my ears. “This isn’t the line of conversation we need to be going down.” He turned to me. “You’re serious about this?”
“I’ve called a family meeting so we can figure this out, so yeah, I’m serious.”
Wyatt jumped out of his seat with a clap. Logan didn’t move. Dad started chopping again.
“I knew this sudden interest in tennis had to mean something. I can get you a wildcard for Queen’s. The tournament director called me the other day, asking if you were even a possibility and something about you this past week told me that I shouldn’t say no.”
When I fired my mum as my coach, I hired my brother.
He’d basically begged me to give him a chance because coaching was his dream, and who better to start with than a top ten player.
I’d never regretted my decision to say yes.
Wyatt was much better at keeping tennis and life as two separate things.
It meant that being on the tour was enjoyable, and when Alisha started tagging along as well, it meant I got to travel the world again and again with two people who knew me better than anyone.
And who also made sure I didn’t burn out.
Wyatt snapped straight back into coach mode like he’d never left.
“Queen’s? That’s in what? Two weeks?”
“Yeah, it’s soon, but we only have to get you match-ready. You’re in the best shape of your life. We just need to get back on the practice courts.”
I stood, putting myself at eye level with my brother, who looked more excited than I’d seen him in a while.
“We have jobs! And a dog. And about a million other logistics to figure out,” I protested weakly.
“There aren’t that many. You have a small client list that you can explain the situation to and find cover for. Leesh and I are technically freelancers, so don’t worry about us.”
“We can look after Logan,” Dad said, making Logan perk up at the sound of his name.
“See, problem solved.” He placed his hands on my arms. “If I say let’s come back when the hard court season begins, you’ve got too long to think about it. We need a short run-up, and grass is your surface.”
“You know he’s right,” Alisha called from where she was still sat in the corner.
I did know he was right. I just hadn’t expected everything to go from zero to one hundred today.
“And you have the capacity to just drop everything for this?”
His lips tipped up into a smile. “Oh, are you formally asking me to be your coach?”
I playfully hit him on the chest. “The way you’re talking, I thought you’d already taken the mantle back.”
“It’s still nice to be asked.”
I straightened up. “Wyatt Tyrannosaurus Sullivan, will you be my coach?”
As a family, we didn’t do middle names. So when we wanted to call someone by their full name, we added a bonus one in, just for fun. Today I was feeling dinosaurs. Wyatt didn’t miss a beat.
“Naomi Triceratops Sullivan, it would be my honour.”
I turned to the table. “And what about you, Alisha—”
“Yes. God, yes, please do not assign me a dinosaur today. I found a grey hair, and I can’t take it.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “Welcome to the club.”
“Welcome back to the tour, I guess,” Alisha shot back.
“Oh, one more thing. I’m adding doubles to the schedule.”
His eyes widened, and I heard my mum actually gasp. “Okkkaaaayyyyy. You got a partner in mind?”
“Unless he was joking, I don’t just have one in mind, I have one confirmed.”
“He?” I saw the moment he figured it out.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by either Wyatt or Naomi that since seeing him play live, I’d been paying more attention to Sam’s games.
They were the only men’s ones I’d watched.
“Right, yeah, that makes sense. I’m assuming you and Sam will be pairing up as soon as possible, and at the Olympics? ”
I nodded. “Yup.”
“I have an outdoor court free tomorrow if you want it,” Mum said.
Wyatt didn’t give me a chance to say no. “Book it.”