Chapter Thirty-Eight
Two months later …
MILLY
Milly stood back and admired the display.
She’d finally received the full shipment from Lacoste.
It would sell out fast. Ever since Adele’s picture from the match had been splashed across newspapers and magazines, people had been calling from around the country with requests for the dress, the bandeau, the shoes, even the socks!
Shipments from other brands had begun arriving too, and she was expecting shoes, rackets, and bags in the next week or two, but the Lacoste collection was what all the women were talking about.
After seeing the local merchandise sell like hotcakes at Adele’s big rematch, it had been Milly’s idea to open a ladies’ tennis shop at the club.
She was hesitant to take charge of the endeavor at first—she knew fashion well but nothing about running a store—but Sylvia had held her to it and promised to teach her what she knew about working with accounts, paying invoices, and managing a small staff.
She’d hired a young man to string rackets two mornings a week, and a girl to work the afternoons when Milly was with her children.
Milly had the next day off for the Fourth of July—the island’s second largest event of the year after Bal Week.
The American flag was already flying outside almost every home and storefront, the bridge onto the island was decorated with red-white-and-blue bunting, and the streets were filled with even more blue hydrangeas, red petunias, and white daisies than usual, adding to the charm and character that had attracted Milly to this island in the first place.
The beach would be swarming the next day, and, after a very busy month, Milly was looking forward to the chance to relax on the sand with her friends and their children.
In the evening they’d all gather to watch the annual boat parade, which Wes planned to participate in.
He’d laughed when he’d described to her how his old boat would chug along next to all those fancy yachts and sailboats, but he didn’t care, he was just happy to be on the water.
“The rest of the holiday week is going to be busy,” Sylvia had told Milly earlier in the day. “The courts are already booked, and restaurant reservations are full, so I’m sure there’ll be gals coming in here wanting to shop.”
“I’ll be ready,” Milly said.
She took one more look around the space, straightening the Wilson rackets that hung on the wall and running her hand along the collection of red, white, and blue swimsuits she’d arranged on the front table before locking up. She hurried off to catch the end of Jack and Debbie’s tennis lesson.
The children were lined up facing the net.
Adele moved down the line, gently tossing a ball in each child’s direction and calling out when it was time to swing.
Debbie got close, but most of them paused too long and swung after the ball was already behind them.
A few of the younger ones, including Jack, dissolved into a heap of frustration.
“I’m tired,” one boy called out.
“Me too,” Jack joined in. “I want a Popsicle.”
Milly stood quietly at the corner of the court, out of view, and hid a smile when she saw Adele close her eyes and take a deep, calming breath.
This age was adorable and cute and funny, but it was also a test of patience.
The children’s class had only been in session for a few weeks, starting when Adele returned home from France, but it was already becoming clear they’d have to separate the children into different age groups and train more coaches as quickly as possible, because Adele was already in high demand with the adults.
“OK, let’s try this a different way,” Adele said. “Airplane tennis.”
They held their arms out like airplane wings, rackets reaching toward the back fence. This time when they swung for the ball most of them at least made contact, and Debbie’s soared over the net.
“Not bad,” Adele said, looking back to see if the ball stayed within the lines of the court. “Not bad at all.”
Milly had fifteen minutes before the lesson would end, so she sat down on one of the lounge chairs and put her feet up, allowing herself a rare moment to catch her breath.
She’d never been so busy, nor had she ever felt this energized by how full and purposeful her life now felt.
Over by the pool bar, she saw Sylvia, chic as ever in a pink belted dress and heels, giving a tour to a family of prospective members.
They would join, they all did, once Sylvia walked them around the grounds, showed them the courts and the pool and introduced them to Adele, the star attraction.
In the past two weeks Sylvia had also booked two weddings—one for that fall and one for the following spring—and membership was on a steady incline.
Walter had already secured sponsors and was making plans for the following year’s Grudges Match.
As Milly sat there, she considered her grand plan to move to the island earlier that year, a move that she’d thought many times might have a been a terrible mistake.
It was clear now that nothing could be further from the truth.
She was exactly where she needed to be. She had friends who supported her; a new job to discover; children who were happy and thriving; Leticia, who’d agreed to stay over and watch the kids one night a week to give her a break; and Wes, who’d insisted on cooking her dinner that evening.
She had to admit, she had a lot of questions about how he might pull that off in his tiny onboard kitchen.
But then she laid her head back and laughed.
It was about damn time someone else made dinner.