Chapter 37
Rori
Icollapse on my couch as soon as I get home from Canada.
Everything feels so wrong.
I lost a match yesterday that I should have won, ending my time in the tournament well before it could help me tune up for the U.S. Open and get one up on Tessa.
The press coverage is awful coming off the article and my loss.
Over the course of several conversations into this morning, Nina and Dad have persuaded Julie to un-resign or whatever.
But not before she made it back to Florida—too late to help me in the match.
Plus, she and I haven’t spoken directly since they brought her back from the brink, since I’ve been on my flight.
So I’m not feeling settled about that yet.
And Landon. I freaked out and ended things with Landon yesterday.
I’d lied when I suggested to him that Dad thought we shouldn’t make the relationship public. The truth is that I’d told Dad how Landon and I had evolved into a relationship—the PG version—but it’d been all me who’d chosen to pull the plug on any announcement.
“Whatever you decide will be the right call,” is all my Dad had said, neutrally, in his typical supportive fashion.
Even after that decision, I couldn’t find a way out of my anxiety as the press scrutiny came to bear on all of us.
To be able to be there for each other fully, attend games and matches, Landon and I would need to go public. The thought of inviting more attention by sharing that we’re dating completely sent me over the edge.
And if we couldn’t be with each other in public, how could we be together at all?
All of this stewing in my mind, with Julie MIA and my head pounding with stress and fear about what would happen next, I lost my second round match.
And then after my loss, angry and overwhelmed, I burned down our situation entirely. Ended things completely with Landon.
Now, regret at my hasty texts to him is sinking in.
I just don’t know what to do about it. Nothing is going to change. Landon and I are going to be professional athletes in the public eye for years upon years.
My phone rings, breaking me out of my train of thought. It’s Taylor, who hadn’t come with us to Canada, instead triaging all the crises from her office in New York.
I pick up and she launches into an update. “Okay, so I do have positive news. The Julie story really doesn’t have legs. I don’t see it getting extended into any other platforms. A tennis coach isn’t as much of a reader draw, so there’s no reason for the story to keep traction.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. Lame because Julie is amazing, but I get what she’s saying about who the press focuses on.
“And what I hear is that your dad and Nina have helped Julie recalibrate her thinking about quitting. I know that’s probably the most important thing for you.
When the time’s right, we’ll put out a statement that you support their relationship, if that sounds good.
We’ll rewrite the narrative over the long term. ”
I jump in on that. “That sounds really great, thanks Taylor. I feel bad that we’ve caused so many issues for you lately.”
“That’s why I get paid the big bucks. Seriously, this is nothing, Rori.” Taylor laughs. “Get arrested for some felonious behavior and then I’ll give you grief. I’m just glad these stories are going to get wrapped up before the U.S. Open, hopefully even before your last warm up tournament.”
“Me too,” I reply, feeling my tension ease at her updates.
“One more thing,” Taylor says, hesitation coming into her tone. “I never like to pry, but just so I’m prepared. Are you and Landon Battle still together? Something I should keep on my radar screen?”
My shoulders sink. “No, no, we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” I don’t have it in me to expand further.
“Well, I hope you’re okay,” Taylor says, her voice softening. “I appreciate you telling me.”
We say goodbye, and I flip on the TV to keep me from overthinking anymore. Julie and Dad are coming over soon so we can try to smooth the frayed edges amongst us. I can’t do anything more productive than watch the latest romantasy hit series until we get this conversation out of the way.
Roughly forty-five minutes later, my front door swings open.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Dad says as he walks in holding Julie by the hand. “I hope it’s still an okay time.”
I stand up and take some steps towards them. “Yep, I’m glad we’re doing this.”
I look down at their hands and then up towards Julie. She clocks my eye movement, and her body language melts down a bit, a guilty expression hitting her face.
“Oh, Rori, I’m so sorry.”
She comes to me, breaking her handhold with Dad, and gives me a hug.
I squeeze her back as she continues. “I overreacted, and made things so much worse. I should know better than to let those things get to me. Especially in the middle of a tournament. I feel terrible.”
I see Dad watching us intently over Julie’s shoulder before he speaks up. “I think we’re all adjusting to the new level of scrutiny. The important thing is that we stick together.”
Julie releases me from the hug. “Your dad talked sense into me,” she says. “Nina too, although in less nice terms. I’m still game to be your coach if you will have me? I hate that I was the weak link this week. It won’t happen again.”
My mood soars at her words, now that it’s official she is back on board. Thank god. The prospect of playing without her by my side again is scary.
I could be angry at her. Maybe I will be after I sit with everything that happened a little longer. But right now, I simply feel relieved.
“Yes, yes,” I say quickly. “I was so worried. I wouldn’t be here without you, Julie. And trust me, I’ve been doing plenty of overreacting myself lately.”
A small smile hits her face. “All of this attention is because you’re crushing it on the court. And nothing’s going to stop that from happening.”
Dad steps forward then and puts his hand on her back.
“Julie and I are also here to tell you something else, sweetheart. We’re going to make a simple statement that we’re together, as long as you are okay with it.
We don’t want to hide our relationship anymore.
It made things worse to keep it buttoned up. ”
“Fine by me,” I say, not resisting the grin that is now on my face. “Really. I’ve basically known for weeks. I don’t need the details, but if two of my favorite people want to be together, I’m on board. I’m just really glad we got you back, Julie.”
“Me too,” she says, her face starting to relax. “I’ve come to terms over the last day with not caring about public opinion, but I definitely do care about how you feel about it.”
“Yeah, the media coverage and gossip sites have been so brutal,” I say, anger leaking into my tone. “It makes me furious.”
Julie looks at me with understanding. “I know, it’s our least favorite part of our jobs, Rori.
We need to make sure it doesn’t take away from what truly matters to us though, what we really care about.
At the end of the day, we control how we react to the inevitable crappy stories.
Or at least, that’s where my mindset has landed over the last day. ”
I nod, digesting what she’s saying, and we all stay silent for a beat. Dad reaches over and rubs Julie’s back in the quiet.
Suddenly, I’m tired of all the heavy talk from today.
Wanting to lighten the mood, I pivot our conversation.
“So Dad told me the story about how you two got involved. That he got jealous when one of the other guys at the community welcome reception for new residents started flirting with you?” Julie and I laugh, and Dad grimaces.
“The crazy thing is that the guy is twenty years older than us, and has a very nice husband,” Julie responds, patting Dad’s arm. “But your dad was clueless.”
“At least we know you’re sticking with us on the tour, Dad,” I say teasingly.
He chuckles. “Wouldn’t miss time with my two best girls for anything. We just need to find a way for Buster to join us.”
I breathe out a long sigh.
At least not everything is completely screwed up. Julie’s back in my corner. Literally.
The next morning, Dad and I drive over to our old house. With a week left to clean out our remaining things, he’d asked me to come look at my old room and figure out what I want to keep.
I walk in, and immediately I’m transported to the memories of ten-year-old Rori walking into this room for the first time. Nervous for my first day at the tennis academy, excited to decorate my own room, and heart sore that Mom would never be here with us as Dad and I started this fresh chapter.
Now the room looks fully lived in, with my teenage self filling it up with knicknacks, books, and pictures, along with all the tennis trophies I earned over the years.
I grab the box that Dad handed me and start picking out what I want.
I haven’t lived with Dad in two years, so it’s been a while since I really looked at some of the items.
Smiling at all the memories, I can’t resist reaching for the first tennis tournament trophy I won.
“Little did we know then what would happen, right?” Dad says behind me, entering the room. “Kind of incredible to think of what you have accomplished over the last ten years.”
“Like Julie would say, I’m just getting started,” I quip back with a smile.
Dad laughs. “Yes, you are.”
He brings his hand to my shoulder and steps closer.
“You deserve everything that you’re achieving on the tennis court. But don’t forget to take care of Rori the person.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he isn’t done.
“Don’t miss out on experiencing the other aspects of your life as well. Especially when they’re right there, waiting for you to realize that you can have them too.”
I’m processing his words as he grabs a picture of us with Mom around the time I was six and holds it for a few moments, looking at it wistfully.
“I learned that the hard way, obsessing over my job before we lost your mom.”
With that, he puts the photo down, turns around, and walks out, leaving me to my thoughts.
Two days later, I’m headed to Pinnacle for one of my last practices before I leave for the Cincinnati tournament. Underneath the music I’m playing on my drive, I hear my phone pinging repeatedly. Finally, it starts ringing from a call. What is going on?
I pull over in the parking lot of a coffee shop and grab my phone. It’s Taylor that called, and there are a million unread text messages out of the blue. Not wanting to try to wade through them, I decide to call Taylor back.
“Hey, Rori,” she says as soon as she picks up. “Let me bring in Julie too, we called you together.”
After she adds Julie to the call, my curiosity is off the charts.
“Okay, what in the world is going on?” I ask them.
Taylor starts. “Well, we just got word that an anonymous complaint was submitted about Tessa. About her name-calling other players, in part, but also…”
She pauses, and Julie jumps in. “Tell her, Taylor.”
Taylor clears her throat and continues. “Also, she was the one who tipped off the paparazzi about Julie and your dad. Apparently, she saw them holding hands during an off-day around London this summer and decided to set up the scandal.”
“What the heck?” I say, beyond shocked. The tour is cut-throat, but that’s another level.
“That’s how the pap even knew to follow them,” Taylor explains. “That it’d be an interesting story. Otherwise the photographer wouldn’t have had a clue who they were.”
“This is legitimately insane,” I say. I’m shocked. This is bananas.
“Apparently, she was bragging about it to someone on her team in Toronto when the story broke and another player or coach overheard,” Taylor explains. “We’re not sure who exactly, but anyway, a complaint was filed.”
“How do we even know that?” I ask.
“A press release just came from the association outlining everything,” Taylor responds. “Or at least what they decided to make public. Including repercussions for Tessa after she admitted what she did.”
Julie immediately starts giving more details, knowing the questions I’m about to ask.
“Disparaging other players in the press can be a violation of code of conduct, though it’s rarely enforced.
However, they couldn’t ignore her planting the story about me and your dad to the media.
It’s exactly the kind of behavior that can give women’s sports a bad name.
Ignoring it would be more embarrassing to the tour than punishing Tessa.
At least now they can square the blame and anger solely on her. ”
“What does that mean?”
“She was found guilty of unsportsmanlike conduct, in violation of our rulebook,” Julie explains.
“Tessa got banned for the rest of the season and has to pay a hefty fine. She’s out for the U.S. Open,” Taylor adds.
“And humiliated,” Julie says, with a satisfied tone. Not that I blame her for that feeling.
We talk a little more, and I tell Julie I’ll meet her at the courts soon, before starting my car again to get on the way.
This is crazy. I honestly can’t believe Tessa would go this far. The anger that’s rising up in me towards her is drowned out by shock—and satisfaction that justice has been served.
The rest of the way to Pinnacle, I blast Taylor Swift’s Karma.
And ignore the nagging urge to call Landon to tell him what had just happened.