Chapter 29
Maggie
April - Sacramento
The next morning, I tell myself I’m only allowed a few more days of wallowing before I need to go back to Palm Beach. Back to playing. Without Rowan.
Just the thought of it makes me depressed and I slump back on the bed in my sister’s guest bedroom. All her pretty decorative pillows are tossed on the floor and I’m tangled up in the sheets. A soft knock on the door gets me to finally sit up. “Come in,” I say.
“Hey, I’ve got breakfast, if you want to join us.” She looks adorable in her light pink nightgown and bare feet. Her hair is long and silky, resting in a braid on her shoulder. She fiddles with the end of it and motions with her head for me to join her.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, making a pit stop first in the bathroom.
My hands grip the edge of the counter and I bite the inside of my cheek.
I look like a mess. My eyes are all puffy and I’ve got dark circles standing out.
I finger comb my hair and put it up in a ponytail, but even that looks limp and lifeless.
When I walk into the kitchen, Max greets me with a side hug and a mug of coffee. “Hey, champ. How are you holding up?”
“As well as I can, I guess. How was my dad?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of coffee.
Max snorts. “Menacing, as always. Gave me a lecture about parenting.”
“Right, like he has room to talk.” I roll my eyes. Andreea hears us and gives us both an admonishing look.
“He’s trying, okay? Cut him some slack,” she says, pointing a spatula between the two of us. “Besides, I invited him for dinner tonight, so you both behave.”
“No, why would you do that?” I whine, putting down my coffee and stealing a couple slices of bacon before Andreea has the chance to swat my hand away.
“Because I happened to mention you were in town and he said he wanted to see you,” she says, shrugging.
“He could have reached out to me and asked to see me,” I mumble.
“And would you have answered him?” she counters, one perfect blonde eyebrow raised.
“No,” I say, grabbing a few strawberries off the fruit platter. I’ve sent every one of his calls to voicemail for the past few months.
“Exactly. All I’m asking is for you to try, please. Now go take a shower. We’re going to go out shopping today and then we’re going to cook together.”
“And I am heading to work,” Max chimes in, pulling my sister in for a kiss.
His hands rub her shoulders and he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle.
The open affection makes me think of Rowan again and all the times I wanted him to hold me like that in front of our friends and family.
I blamed him for breaking all our rules, and yet—I was the one making them. It was as much my fault as it was his. I turn around and give Max and Andreea some privacy, checking my phone in the process.
When I realize all I have are article alerts and not a single call or text from Rowan, I sigh and drop the phone on the couch. Maybe I should be the one reaching out. Or maybe he’s finally realized he can do better.
My mood is sour the rest of the day as Andreea drags me shopping. First, we get new outfits and stop by her favorite frozen yogurt place, then we go to a coffee shop, where she tells me about her plans for the nursery, which I haven’t gotten to see yet, and how excited she is about the baby.
“You’re going to make a great mom.” I smile, sipping on my chai latte.
“I’ll try my damned hardest,” she says. The two of us share a look, and I know she’s thinking of our own mom. Even though she shows up for us, there’s always some string attached—some favor we owe her for doing the bare minimum.
“So,” she says, taking a sip of her hot tea and pinning me with a hard look. Uh-oh. “What are you going to do about Rowan?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, resting my forehead on the table.
“For what it’s worth, I think it would be a mistake to let him go.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I’ve got some time to think about it. Until the French Open, at least.”
“Okay, I’ll drop it. For now.” She smirks, gathering her purse and standing up. “Let’s go, we have groceries to get.”
“Yes, Mom,” I tease and she drags me out of the coffee shop and to the farmers market across the street.
By the time the doorbell rings, I’m a couple of glasses of wine in and enjoying myself, listening to Max and Andreea recount stories from their Bahamas wedding.
Andreea moves off the couch to greet our dad and Max stands, straightening his short sleeved button down.
“You’re trying too hard,” I mutter, taking another sip of wine.
He squints down at me and smiles. “I know, but it’s really important to her that we get along. So no matter how much he gets on my nerves, it’s worth it to me,” Max says, shrugging.
I sigh and stand up too, ready to hear my dad’s criticism as to why I’m here when I should be on the court, practicing. Except…it doesn’t come.
My dad, the hardass who won’t even show up to my games, the man who I’ve been avoiding for so long, he’s nowhere to be seen. The man in front of me is all smiles as he greets me, pulling me into a hug.
I stand there awkwardly, hands at my sides as his familiar scent wraps around me. Looking over at Andreea, she gives me an excited smile and a thumbs up, but I’m too shocked to even react.
Finally, Dad pulls back but keeps both his hands on my shoulders. “It’s really good to see you, pi?cot,” he says, using my old Romanian nickname. I don’t remember why he ever started calling me ladyfinger but I haven’t heard him say it since I went to college.
I grind my teeth, trying hard not to get angry or tell him to fuck off.
I’ll be nice for the sake of my sister. Although, deep down I feel a prickle of jealousy.
Why do they get along so well now? What changed?
Did I miss the memo that we were supposed to reconcile with our parents?
Are we just supposed to forgive and forget the trauma of the divorce?
Stubborn as I am, I keep my conversation with Dad to a minimum, giving him one word answers to his questions during dinner.
“How have you been?” he asks, taking a bite of salad.
“Fine.” I stab my lettuce with more force than I should and stuff my mouth with it.
“Are you enjoying Florida?” he continues, taking a sip of wine.
“Yes,” I say, occupying my hands with the napkin so I don’t stab him with a fork.
“Do you think you’ll stay there?”
“Seeing how that’s my home, I’ll probably stay,” I say, annoyed. I look up and see my sister frowning at us both, Max’s hand patting hers.
“Are you ready for the French Open?” he asks out of the blue and I snap my attention back to him. His blue eyes, the same dark shade as mine, pin me to the chair.
My lips part in surprise, but then anger takes over. It’s ugly and petty, but I can’t pretend that I don’t resent this man. So I say, “Why the fuck do you care all of a sudden?”
Andreea gasps but I don’t dare look at her. My anger is pinned solely on my father. He blinks, taken aback. A divot forms between his eyebrows and he says, “I’ve always cared. You’re my daughter.”
“Bullshit,” I say, pointing a fork at him. “In ten years, you haven’t been to a single one of my games. Not in college, not when I was struggling to make a name for myself, and not once have you been to one of my major tournaments.”
His face softens in what I can only assume is shame and admonishment.
“You made it clear that you wanted to forge your own path and that you didn’t want anything to do with me and my spotlight.
I was simply following your wishes,” he says, reaching out a hand and squeezing my shaking fingers. I yank it back like I’ve been burnt.
“Just because I wanted to make it on my own doesn’t mean I didn’t want or need your support,” I whisper, inhaling shakily and blink back tears.
His fingers curl into a fist on the table. “I know. And you’re right. I’m so very sorry for not seeing that sooner.”
I hold his gaze, seeing the sincerity there. Nodding, I eat a few more bites of food, hating that I made a scene at the dinner table. Andreea and Max don’t say anything which makes me glad.
But then Dad says, “Last time I saw you, Rowan said he might be switching to doubles. Do you plan on being his partner?”
The pang in my heart grows and I set my fork down, not able to take another bite of food. “No, Dad. I don’t think that’s for me.”
He hums, silently assessing me. “Where is he now?”
“London,” I mutter, taking a sip of my wine, my mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. Andreea gives me a sad look across the table and I do my best not to cry.
“He left you alone to deal with the media?” Dad asks, fingers curling into fists next to his plate.
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Then why’s he not here?” my dad counters, voice hard.
When I don’t say anything, Andreea snaps, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re both acting like children. Would it kill you to talk to each other?”
Max bites his lip to keep from smiling as he looks between mine and my dad’s stunned expressions. The traitor is enjoying this.
“Maggie, Dad is asking about your life. He wants to know why the man you’ve been in love with for ten years is not here,” Andreea says, talking to me like I’m a child.
“Dad, Maggie thinks she’s not good enough for Rowan.
She watched your divorce with Mom unfold in the media and she’s terrified she’s going to make the same mistakes.
So instead of telling Rowan this, she just dumped him.
And frankly, some of that is on you for making it so hard for us both to trust the men around us. ”
My sister takes a big breath and slumps back in her chair. “Wow, that was a lot,” she says, fanning herself. “I’m going to take a nap. You two better talk about this by the time I come back,” she says, pointing a menacing finger at each of us in return.
“Um, should I come with you?” Max asks, already half out of his chair.