“Who, Robbie? He’s harmless,” Sylvia said. “And no, they’re not all like him. We only have a few coaches, and they all like the attention of a beautiful woman, but he’s the best if you want to learn fast.”
“I do,” Milly said, but her hope of uncovering some hidden talentnow seemed unlikely, very unlikely—embarrassing, even, that she’d had the thought to begin with.
That night, after she got the kids to bed, Milly started tinkering with the guest cottage, getting it ready in case she found renters for Bal Week, when she heard a soft thumping coming from outside. Looking out the window across her small yard to her house, nothing appeared to be amiss. The noise seemed to be coming from the alley behind the cottage, and when she unlatched the window that opened onto it, she realized she was right.Thump, pause, pause,thump, pause, pause. It wasn’t an insistent rapping on a door as if someone needed urgent help; it was more rhythmic.
Milly unlocked the door that led to the alley and stepped out into the dark. At the end of her street she could see someone moving in and out of view. As she came closer, Milly recognized the figure. It was her aloof neighbor Adele, whose house on Onyx also backed up to the alley. Racquet in hand, she was whacking a ball against a wall next to her house with such force that it made Milly step back into the shadows of her neighbor’s house.
Adele’s was the second home from the end of the street. The last house on the block was one of Walter’s recent investments—run-down, vacant, and, according to Sylvia, soon to be torn down to make room for a larger house. Adele was clearly taking advantage of the fact that she had no neighbors on one side, because if anyone else were to hear or witness this display of aggression, they would most certainly call the police. What astonished Milly the most as she watched Adele move was not just the power with which she hit the ball, which was something she’d never witnessed before, but also her grace and composure. After she shot the ball at full speed toward the wall, she shuffled gracefully backward, racket looping around behind her, then she’d leap forward like a ballerina, meeting the ball mid-flight, only to slam it toward the wall in exactly the same spot, repeating the motion over and over again.It was grace and power, strength and beauty and precision all unfolding before her in the most unusual way. How did she know how to hit a ball like this, and why was she doing it here, so late at night in a dark alley?
Milly thought she should get back to the house where her children were, hopefully, sleeping soundly, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the dance going on in front of her. Still watching, she began to back away but cursed as she almost turned her ankle on an uneven part of the alley. Adele stopped hitting, caught the ball on the strings of her racket, and turned to Milly.
“Can I help you?” she asked, curtly.
“Oh, hi, hello. I just heard you playing and I came out to see what all the commotion was about.”
“Commotion?”
“Not commotion, really, just, wow, you hit the ball with such power and grace.”
Adele picked up a pitcher of water and a glass she had placed at the side of the alley and took a long drink. She then wiped her brow with her sleeve. She was wearing a bandanna tied around her short brown bob, but it wasn’t enough to catch her perspiration.
“Is there something you want?” Adele asked, sounding irritated. “Because if not, you’re interrupting my rhythm.”
“Oh,” Milly said, slightly terrified by her demeanor. “Sorry, I was just leaving. But how did you learn to play so well?”
“My father,” Adele said, tapping the ball impatiently against the ground with her racket.
“It’s mesmerizing to watch you.”
Adele snorted sarcastically. “Do you make a habit of watching people?”
“No, gosh no, I just heard you, that’s all. You could be a professional or something.”
Adele glared at her, then started up again, hitting the ball gently against the wall, and Milly knew this was her cue to leave.
“Well, if you ever need someone to practice with, I’ve just taken up tennis.”
“Are you good?”
“No,” Milly said, “definitely not.”
“Then no,” Adele said. “I play alone.”
“But it’s tennis. How can you play alone?”
Adele gestured to the wall.
“That house is getting torn down, you know,” Milly said.
Adele shrugged. “I don’t need to practice with anyone. I already play just fine.”
“All right.” Milly put her hands up in defense and backed away. This woman was not neighborly at all. First the Ferris wheel and now this. “I was just trying to be friendly,” Milly said.
But Adele had to have the last word. “Well,” she said. “I don’t need friends either.”
Milly shook her head in stunned disbelief; no one had ever spoken to her so bluntly before. Then she turned and walked back to her house.
