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“Me too,” her friend Ellie agrees, her ponytails swinging as she nods her head. “And as pretty as you. Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Sophie?”
“Ah, well, not really. But I do sort of have a husband.”
“You’re married!” the two girls squeal as I bend down to gather up tennis balls.
“Yes, I am.”
“Did he give you this bracelet?” Nora asks, one small fingertip poking the stones. I probably shouldn’t wear the tennis bracelet on the courts but it’s too pretty to leave at home, and secure enough that it’s not going to fall off. “Are those real diamonds?”
“Yes, he did, and they are,” I tell her, holding out my wrists for her to see it closer.
“Wow. He must be super rich!” Ellie exclaims, making me laugh.
“Very rich,” I agree. “He built me my own tennis court with a shade over it.”
Ellie beams up at me. “He must really like you.”
“I guess he has his reasons,” I tell them, rather than try to explain to children that he’s trying to buy what’s between my legs and my father’s blessing to be his heir.
“Ellie, Nora, your parents are here!” Stacy calls out.
“Will you be back next week to help me with my backhand?” Nora asks me.
“Absolutely,” I agree. “See you both then.” I wave goodbye to them then continue my circuit to collect all the scattered tennis balls along the walls.
“All done,” I say when I take the cart back to the equipment station.
“Thanks, Sophie,” Stacy says. “And don’t worry, you won’t be the ball girl forever.”
“I don’t mind,” I assure her with a smile.
“You’ll be teaching your own classes soon.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Why not? The students have had nothing but great things to say about you. They even listen when you offer them pointers. It’s not always easy to get them to follow instructions. Most want to do things their way more than they want to listen to another adult telling them what to do all day.”
“I don’t blame them. They just want to come here to have fun, not be perfect little tennis prodigies.”
“Fun is great, but for some a tennis scholarship may be the only way to escape poverty and actually get to go to college.”
“Really?”
“Really. Not that we want them to eat, sleep, and breathe tennis. We just want those with talent and determination to let it take them as far as possible.”
“I’ve never had to think about those sorts of things,” I admit.
“Truth be told, me either,” Stacy says with a smile. “We were lucky.”
“Guess so,” I agree. “Nora and Ellie think my husband must be super rich.”
“They’re adorable. And they’re not wrong. The Dunne family have been major donors to the center since Julia first thought up the idea for it.”
“Really?”
“Well, the donations are anonymous to the public, but there’s always a paper trail that we see in the office.”
“Why would they make anonymous donations?”
