“Papa keeps guest rackets in the sports closet,” Kat told Meredith. “George can use an old one.”
“Right. I forgot,” Mishka said happily.
“Why don’t you go find one,” Meredith told him. “But give me a chance to cool off and get a drink before we come back out here.” Mishka took off like a shot, and Meredith and Katstrolled back to the house. “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Meredith asked Kat. “You have a wicked backhand.”
Kat shrugged. “Papa taught me when I was little. I got better at my school. Athletics are big there. And tennis is my favorite. I like it even more than football. But I should be practicing more. I hope to make the junior tennis team after I turn thirteen.”
“Seems like you’re on the right course.”
“But I really love football too.” Kat’s tone was warming up. “I’m not outstanding, but it’s easier to make that team.” She glanced at Meredith. “Are you as good at football?”
Meredith grinned. “I can hold my own in soccer. I haven’t played for a while, but I coached the secondary school girls where I taught these past couple of years.” She felt slightly wistful to remember the little going away party the teen girls had given her. Was that only a week ago? “What position do you play?”
“I’ve been stuck playing goalie mostly. I don’t mind so much, but I probably need to work at blocking shots. I read online that there’s a way to study the face of the shooter to know which way she’s aiming. Do you think that’s true?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Want to give it a go later this afternoon?”
“You think you can handle it?” Kat’s tone had a teasing edge now. “Or are you too old and tired?”
Meredith laughed. “Oh, sweetheart! You just wait.”
After a rest and some lunch, served again in the formal dining room, Meredith got a fresh can of tennis balls then took Mishka to the tennis court for a lesson. The court was in full sun, and after getting winded chasing down all his wildly hit balls, she suggested they take a beverage break and reconvene tomorrow. “But you’re off to a great start,” she said as they walked back to the house. “Maybe we can try playing with Kat.”
“All three of us?”
“Sure. You and me against her.”
“Yeah! And we could beat her.”
Meredith chuckled to imagine the delight on Kat’s face as she slammed the ball out of Mishka’s reach. “Well, we could certainly try.”
The house felt cool and peaceful, and after they got sodas, Meredith went into the playroom, which still looked like a tornado had swept through. “Do you actually play with all these toys?” She picked up a toddler’s wheeled toy. “Really?”
Mishka laughed. “No, of course not.”
“Then why are they strewn all about like this?”
He looked down at his feet.
“Did you make this mess?”
“Some of it.” He walked over to a table with what looked like a million LEGO bricks splattered across it and onto the floor beneath. “I was building a spaceship the other day, but…Kat destroyed it.”
“Why did she destroy it?” Meredith sat down in one of the child-sized chairs.
“Because Mrs. Warner said to clean up in here or she wouldn’t give us dinner.”
“And…?”
“I wasn’t done building my spaceship, so I wanted to leave it out. Mrs. Warner wouldn’t have cared if I did. I picked up some other things, but Kat kept telling me to clean up everything, including all my LEGO pieces.” He paused before continuing. “But I said ‘no.’ Then she just smashed my spaceship apart.” He scowled. “I was so mad I threw all the toys all over the place.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “And it was rather fun.”
“Until clean up time?”
He barely nodded.
“Did Mrs. Warner let you have dinner anyway?”
“Yeah. I knew she would. It’s not fair to deprive children of food to punish them. We had a nanny who did that before, and Papa gave her the sack.”
