Chapter 10
Maggie
February - Palm Beach
The restaurant is packed when we arrive.
I take in the various people in tennis and golf attire, recognizing some of them from all my years at the country club.
I nod hello to my coach who’s chatting animatedly with Levi Carmichael, the number one golfer in the world, who frequents our club every time he’s in Florida for a tournament.
My coach waves and points to the table for us to join but I shake my head politely.
Rowan smiles and leans in to whisper, “Can you imagine if we ditched your family to sit with your coach?”
“My dad would be silently fuming before snapping altogether,” I snort, trying to imagine it.
No one could ever measure up to my dad’s expectations when it comes to tennis—not my coaches and definitely not me.
“There’s a reason I keep my professional and personal life separate,” I mumble as we approach the table.
“He might be a fan of Levi’s though,” Rowan jokes and I smile.
“Everyone is a fan of Levi’s. Just look at him.” I nod towards the golfer in his crisp white outfit and perfect brown hair and green eyes.
I see Rowan glancing at me with a curious glint, but I shake my head.
Rowan gives me a teasing look and his hand lands on the small of my back where he rubs his thumb back and forth.
Even through the material of my tennis dress, his touch is warm and soothing.
I relax under it and mentally prepare myself for brunch.
I take a good look at everyone as we approach the table.
My mom is sipping on what I’m sure is her second or third mimosa, my father looks impassive as he listens to something my sister is telling him, and next to Andreea I spot her boyfriend, Max.
She doesn’t bring him to family events often, and the sight of him at the table catches me off guard.
I exchange hugs and pleasantries with my mom and when my dad stands to hug me, I pat his arm and feign ignorance. When I hug Andreea, she whispers, “Thank you so much for being here.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, getting the feeling that whatever she invited us here for is important.
“Yeah.” She pulls out of my embrace and sits back down.
Rowan and I take our seats at the round table.
He ends up sitting next to my mom while I sit next to Andreea.
Max seems terrified, sitting next to my dad.
His black hair is longer than last time I saw him at Christmas and he looks disheveled. Stressed, even.
The waiter comes around and Rowan and I both order pineapple margaritas and omelettes.
We make stunted conversation as we wait for our food, and I wish my sister would have given me more of a heads up about this.
I catch her eye and she gives me a forced smile, her anxious energy rolling off her in waves.
What’s so important that we needed to be in one room together?
Is she sick? Is she moving jobs? Is she—
“Max and I are getting married next week,” she blurts out, her wild blue eyes pinned to mine. I just stare back, my jaw somewhere in the vicinity of the floor. Out of all the things I thought my sister would say, marriage was not at the top of my list.
I always thought she and I were on the same page about it, that after seeing so many marriages fail around us, including our parents’, we wouldn’t consider it a path for ourselves. So what changed? And why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?
When no one says anything after an agonizing moment, and my sister’s eyes go glassy with tears, I spring into action and hug her tight, saying, “Congratulations!”
Rowan echoes me, standing and giving both Andreea and Max a hug. My thoughts are swirling and when I look over at my parents, they’re frozen in their chairs.
“Wait a minute,” my dad says sternly. We all take our seat again and look around the table, wondering what he’ll say. How he’ll react.
“Why next week? That’s too soon.”
I roll my eyes at my parents, the ever traditionalists. They’re probably mad that Max didn’t ask for their permission.
Max wrings his hands in his lap while Andreea crosses her arms and raises her chin defiantly. Oh, there’s more to the story.
“I’m pregnant,” she says, taking us all by surprise again. “It’s unexpected, of course, but we’re having a baby and we’d like to do so as a united couple.”
I stare at my sister, noticing that she looks paler than usual, dark circles standing out under her eyes. How long has she known? How long has she agonized over our strict parents’ reaction?
Reaching out, I squeeze her arm and give her my biggest smile. “I’m so happy for you both, I can’t wait to be an aunt.”
Andreea relaxes her posture and pulls me into another hug. “Thank you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, it all happened so fast.”
“This is unexpected,” my mom finally says, taking another sip of her mimosa. We all stare at her, waiting for more. She studies Andreea’s face and nods. “This will be good for you, a nice change of pace. You work too much.”
“I’m not going to quit my job just because I’m having a baby,” Andreea says, rolling her eyes at mom.
“Why? I’m sure Max can support the both of you,” she says, looking over at him. The poor guy looks like he’s on the verge of bolting. Not that he would leave my sister behind, he loves her too much for that, but he looks genuinely scared of my family.
“It’s not about money, mom, it’s about principle. I love my job and I’ll take a small break, of course, but I’ll return to it.”
Our mom sighs like this is the most disappointing thing she’s heard and my dad runs a hand over his weathered face.
Ever since their mess of a divorce back when I was in high school, having to endure through screaming matches and temper tantrums, well—let’s just say family functions have always been… precarious.
“Next week, you say?” Dad asks wearily.
“Yes,” Andreea replies, her chin held high.
“Alright then.”
The rest of brunch is spent talking about logistics on how to get all of us to the Bahamas for the small wedding with friends and family.
Just when I think the topic of tennis won’t come up, my dad says, “So, Rowan, I heard you’re interested in playing doubles…” He lets the sentence hang and looks between the both of us.
My head whips towards Rowan. This is the first time I’m hearing about it.
He coughs after choking on his water and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Doubles?” I ask, incredulous.
Rowan’s cheeks are pink with embarrassment and he fidgets with the napkin on the table. “I was just curious, you know. For the future,” he says vaguely and I narrow my eyes.
“What’re you talking about?” I ask.
“Well, honey, he is in his thirties, none of you are getting any younger. I think it’s smart to look for alternatives,” my mom pipes in, most unhelpful.
“Mom,” Andreea and I chide her at the same time, but Rowan just laughs.
“Something like that. I mean, depending on how the rest of the Grand Slams go this year, I may consider taking up doubles. It might improve my game.”
“I didn’t know you wanted that,” I say quietly, wondering if this is what’s been on his mind lately. If this is the reason why he’s been a little distant. Did he think I would be mad if he got a doubles partner? Would I be replaced altogether?
“It’s been…recent,” he says, giving me a small smile.
I smile back and ignore my dad’s comment about how there’s not much money in doubles.
“Maggie, how have you been? You haven’t returned any of my calls,” Dad says, taking a sip of his drink.
I avoid eye contact and shrug, acting unperturbed. “Been busy, I guess.”
I’m fuming on the inside. I want to snap and ask why he cares, especially since he hasn’t even acknowledged my win in Australia. Instead, I finish my breakfast, congratulate my sister again and come up with an excuse for Rowan and I to leave.
The drive back to our neighborhood is quiet and I sneak a few glances over at Rowan. He’s bobbing his head along to the radio and watching the ocean.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat. “Do you wanna talk about doubles?”
“I haven’t made a decision quite yet. I’m sorry you found out about it from your dad, though,” he says, wincing.
“How did he know?”
“I reached out to one of our old college coaches to get some advice. I think he works at the same club as your dad now, so word must have gotten around.” He shrugs, frowning.
“You’re really considering switching over? Or would you play both singles and doubles?” I ask, selfishly not wanting him to play doubles at all if it means I have to give him up as my practice partner.
“I don’t know yet, Mags. But you know I wouldn’t leave you hanging, right?” he asks, pinning me with his serious gaze.
I bite my lip and nod reluctantly. The truth is, I don’t know that. “You’d have to find a partner,” I say, leaving the sentence hanging.
“That doesn’t mean I’d give up our practice time,” he says emphatically, placing his warm hand on my thigh.
“Okay, well—” I say, conjuring up a smile. “Let me know when you decide.”
“You’ll be the first to know, Mags,” Rowan says, squeezing my thigh and rubbing his thumb back and forth over my skin.
I close my eyes and let his words sink in. He won’t give up on me. But why does it feel like I might lose him anyway?