Match Point

The first time Mara and I practised together again, we lost a set to two junior players who had spent the morning carrying chairs into the clubhouse.

They had spent the afternoon learning to return my serve, too. I couldn’t begrudge them that. What bothered me was the ball Mara let go between us at three-all. I moved for it, saw her start forward, and stopped. It bounced twice in the open court.

“Mine,” she said, after it was too late.

“I had it.”

“Then why did you stop?”

I had no answer I wanted to give in front of the juniors. We played the rest of the set as two capable women taking turns making room for an imaginary third. At the gate, I told them their returns had earned the win. They grinned all the way to the changing rooms.

Mara took the balls from the basket and…