“I can’t make out with you up here,” I say to Michael as Iwhite-knuckle the safety bar and try not to look down. “I wanted to, but I’ve never been an amusement ride kind of girl. I’ll take standing on the ground over this any day.”
“That can be arranged,” he says. “Once we get down to the bottom.”
I laugh. “Yeah, better wait till then. But we can’t return to the food or games area for a while, and I’m kind of done with the rodeo for the day.”
“Me too. What else do you like to do? You said you’re good at tennis, right?”
“I’m okay. I took lessons for years. My mom was really into it, so we play together. It’s nice mother-daughter time.”
“Are you competitive with one another?”
“We are actually. I’m not a super competitive person, but my mom brings out the worst in me.” I smile. “Aunt Lynn tried to play with us once. She brought a friend, and they were doubles partners, so Mom and I were on the same team for once. I don’t think they scored a point.”
Michael grins. “You and your mom beat them handily, huh?”
“Yeah. Aunt Lynn didn’t enjoy the experience. I can’t say I blame her.”
“Are the courts you play at nearby?”
I tilt my head. “Are you suggesting we play?”
“Why not? I’ve played tennis a bit. Okay, hardly ever.”
I laugh.
“But I’m game to try.”
The Ferris wheel mercifully starts moving. A few more minutes and my feet will be on solid ground.
“Okay. Let’s play. The courts rent rackets, and you can pay for balls.”
Tennis with Michael is nothing like playing with my mom.
Michael makes it romantic. We walk out to the courts holding hands. I’m bouncing with excitement, so it looks almost like I’m pulling Michael along behind me.
“Hey, slow down.” He chuckles. “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you? Maybe it will be payback for the fly fishing.”
I laugh. “Not payback. Just friendly competition.”
My mom worked as a nanny for a couple years when I was around twelve. The family she worked for belonged to a fancy country club, and I went with her occasionally and got signed up for tennis lessons. The ball came out of that machine thingy so fast I don’t know how I ducked in time.
But I learned.
And soon, my mom and I were hooked.
“Here, Emery, you start.” Michael hands me three tennis balls from the box at the edge of the court and pats me on the butt as I turn to walk towards my end.
I wind up, throw the ball in the air, and hit it as hard as I can. When it lands in the corner of the court across the net, I wait for Michael to return it. He hits it back in my direction, and I volley it to him.
He misses.
“You’re fine!” I call across. “You serve this time.”
The recreation park manager, whom I’ve known for years, appears just outside the courts. He’s an older gentleman whose granddaughter is the same age as I am. He loves tennis and works hard to keep the courts clean and safe for everyone.
“Hey Ben,” I call out.
“I’m taking a lunch break,” he says, his white hair blowing in the light wind. “You mind a spectator?”
