Chapter 9. The Object of the Game
Life never ceases to amaze me. I would have never dreamed I'd be spending the first gorgeous day of the year watching two of my least favorite people play tennis and actually caring who won.
Anne abandoned her sketch and watched with me as Andrew bounced the ball on the court and prepared to serve.
"Best of three?" L asked as Andrew stalled for time by balancing the ball on his racquet and grinning widely at the others assembled.
"Make it one, lad. Higher stakes." Andrew shot back, bouncing the ball up high, doing a spin and catching it on his racquet when he turned back around to meet it. The others clapped politely, but L rolled his eyes and stalked to the center of the court, refusing to participate in such theatrics.
"Showboating a bit, huh?" Anne remarked as Andrew now tossed up his racquet, did another ridiculous spin and caught it behind his back amid more applause.
I groaned. "I don't know which of them is more childish. Get on with it, will you?!"
Andrew jumped at the noise but stopped messing about and walked sedately to the center of his side of the court and prepared to serve. I'd have to think more about my obvious power over him and decide whether I liked that I had any.
"You hen, you." Anne kidded. "Think he's any good?"
"I'll reserve my judgment, but with that display it doesn't bode well."
I had no idea if Andrew was decent, mostly because I had learned to tune him out when he went on about himself, but he had bragged a little and actually kept a racquet in his car so I thought perhaps that pointed toward him being competent. Far too easily taken in by devious eccentrics, but still competent.
L was bent forward with his racquet directly in front of him, both of his hands gripping the handle and his eyes following Andrew's every move. The spectators were completely silent as Andrew served. The ball whipped over the net and just missed L's racquet, zipping behind him. 15 - Love.
"Oooh!" we collectively winced and Andrew beamed, craning his neck back to wink at me on the hill. I didn't offer him any encouragement and blankly stared back, doing my best L.
He quickly turned back around and took the ball from Beto who had volunteered to be ball boy with nary a thank you to the child. I was reminded of another reason why I didn't want him to win.
L didn't look happy as he flexed his long fingers back around his racquet, and retained his stance, waiting for his opponent's next serve. Andrew lobbed a short one just over the net and L was there to meet it, shooting it back so fast Andrew hardly realized that he had missed his chance to return it as it went straight past him and bounced against the fence. Andrew's smile instantly disappeared and a cheer rose up from the stands. L was startled at the noise, but nodded in thanks.
"He's just warming up." Anne commented, plopping her sketchbook back in her lap and starting to draw a few light lines.
"What's inspired you this time?" I asked absentmindedly as Andrew readied to bring the ball back into play, apparently not quick enough for L who let out a loud sigh.
"L, of course. Have to capture his glory moment for Wammy's posterity."
She captured my interest as she added darker strokes, starting to form his torso on the sheet of paper. "You haven't drawn him since you were seven!" I remarked as L returned Andrew's serve with a forceful hit that Andrew was ready for. 15 all.
"Yeah, he's due for an update." She noted lifting up one of her locs to her lips and starting to chew on the ends. "Or I could draw an adorable depiction of your wedding day. I wonder if it'd be a casual affair, you know, blue jeans and trainers…"
"If you draw that and show it to anyone, I will disown you." I warned her, keeping the heat in my cheeks down to a minimum. "Just draw the game."
"Fine, fine!" Anne surrendered with a chuckle going back to her sketch. "You know, it's kind of funny."
"What is?" Andrew was surprisingly now winning with a score of 30 - 15. L was glaring at him as he waited for the next serve.
"This match, L and Andy. It's like they're fighting over you."
L now tied Andrew after giving the ball a backhanded spin that his opponent couldn't dream of meeting. The raucous cheers drowned out my cry of indignation. "Come again?" I hissed as the game continued. "This has nothing to do with me. Both of them wanted an opportunity to show off and this was the perfect venue."
"Ha, keep thinking that, G." Anne dipped her head back down to her drawing. "Why do you think they want to show off?"
"This joke has gotten horribly old." I answered, vexed. "When two egos such as theirs clash, competition is always the result. Did you not grow up here?"
"I'm not arguing with that," Anne answered with a grin as Andrew took a step and served again. "I'm just saying that it's funny."
L dove across the court to strike the ball, sending it back to Andrew amid more applause.
"Yeah, L!" My best friend shouted, punching her fist in the air. I dropped my head into my hands as Andrew gave a quick peek back, displaying a sense of betrayal that Anne wasn't on his side. He almost missed the ball coming back his way, but hit it just in time, just barely grazing the top of the net. L tipped it back on Andrew's side and it bounced once on the right edge of the court before going out of bounds. 40 - 30.
"L, L, give'em hell!" Mello began the chant and the rest of them joined in, including Anne.
L was standing mid-court, hardly out of breath and smirking at the obvious support. Andrew ran a hand through his damp blonde curls and got ready to try again. I pitied him. It was evident that if he was good by normal standards, they couldn't reach the heights of L's ability. He couldn't even keep the ball in play.
Andrew turned back around again, and blew me a kiss. I could see L's expression darken as he watched.
"See that's what I mean." Anne murmured as she now committed the heated look in L's eyes to her sketch. "It's not just a game to them."
Andrew's smile faded when I didn't return it and swiveled on his heel back to face his impending doom.
L was already looking annoyed that Andrew was taking too long to serve the ball and he showed it when he returned Andrew's eventual serve by smacking the ball straight up into the air. Everyone shielded their eyes as they tried to see where it had went, Andrew having no choice but to join the rest of us. Now L was playing with him, and I didn't think it was as funny as everyone else.
L caught my disapproving expression and jerked his chin defiantly. The ball sped back down to the earth on Andrew's side and shot up again a little less high than before.
"Show off." I muttered as the others laughed.
Andrew hit it when it came back down and L shot it across the net, just grazing Andrew's racquet before he returned it to L.
"This is it!" Anne squealed, scribbling furiously every few seconds before she glanced up to observe her sweating, brassed off subject gliding across the court to give the tennis ball coming his way a decided thwack. I couldn't help being a little excited myself.
"That's it, Mister L! Kick his arse!" The ball boy encouraged, causing the group assembled by him to crack up laughing. This was certainly the most boisterous tennis match I'd ever attended. None of us would be invited to Wimbledon any time soon. It didn't stop me from admonishing our youngest boy.
"Beto! Really!"
"Ahh, Grace, he's just having fun," Anne defended, her gaze transfixed on the game. "One more point, and L wins. Wonder what his prize will be?"
I blushed but rolled my eyes. "Winning, like usual. That's all he ever wants."
Andrew was obviously buckling under the pressure. He halfheartedly returned L's latest swing and almost made it too easy to win. A few of the kids booed.
"Why are none of the kids on his side?" I asked as L jogged back a few steps to send the ball back.
"Hmm?" Anne was finishing her sketch. "On Andrew's side? G, none of the kids really like him. They tolerate him because they think that you do and he never remembers any of their names which I'm sure doesn't help."
I was stunned. Andrew had never really done anything to deserve this condemnation from the rest of the house. Unless word had gotten around pretty fast about the names he'd called L, I couldn't think of any other reason why they would dislike him. "But why?" I asked as the battle for the final point continued.
"Well, they know his intent, our kids aren't dumb," Anne began as she darkened the black locks that slivered over L's determined eyes in her sketch. "They wouldn't want you to leave them. It'd be like losing their parents all over again if you left Wammy's. And L's one of their own, that's why it's so one sided."
Crossly, I turned from her and stared down at the two men playing the game. Apart from Wammy and L, now I had learned that all of Wammy's House wanted me never to leave. Well, perhaps not Near, I doubted that he would notice if I was gone nor Jude who had just arrived, but still, everyone wanted me to give up a life outside of their walls so that I forever remain their stand in mother. It seemed everywhere I turned, I was trapped.
L almost fell to the ground as he swung his racquet with all of this might, sending the ball clear across the court and crashing against the fence in front of me. The crowd erupted in roars and he shook out his damp hair as Andrew bent over trying to catch his breath.
"L won!" Anne announced triumphantly, jumping up from the grass to join the others. I stayed seated, still fretting over what she had said.
L bowed to the crowd and left the court, receiving a fierce hug from Ella around his middle as he stepped through the door. Andrew recovered and passed everyone congratulating L to reach me sulking on the hill.
"Well, I lost. I suppose I underestimated him. He's quite skilled."
I looked up and noticed the vulnerability in his green eyes. He really could be quite charming in a certain light. "Andrew," I began, standing up from the ground and dusting off my jeans. "Would you still care for that drive?"
The elation that flitted over his face made my heart lift. "Would I? When would you like to go, Grace?"
I watched the group singing and cheering as Beto was given L's racquet and he held it over his head like a trophy. "Now, right now."
His grin was dazzling. "Well, now this was all worth it." He commented as I guided him on the path behind the tennis court back to the front drive. I saw L's dark eyes watching us, but I didn't turn back. "That was rather fun, really."
"If you say so." I sighed as we ducked our heads to miss a tree branch hanging over the walk.
"You watching made me feel so proud, I wanted to do my best for you, my Grace." Andrew mentioned softly as we reached the Aston Martin and he lifted the bouquet off of the hood where it had been baking for a good twenty minutes. "For you, perhaps now you'll accept them?"
I took the roses in my arms and breathed in their rich perfume. "Yes, I think they're lovely."
Andrew's returning look was truly genuine. "Lovely girls should be surrounded by lovely things." He opened the passenger door and stood by it expectantly. "Your chariot awaits."
I was likely crazy to be accepting Andrew's attentions again after the rows of the past few days but I was so sick of everyone else telling me what was right and where my place was, now even the kids were doing it. I was twenty-one years old for goodness' sake! Andrew couldn't be so horrible if he still wanted to make amends after the things we'd said the night before. Right? I slipped into the car before I could change my mind and run back into the house.
"So," He asked as he slipped into the driver's seat and turned the keys in the ignition. "Where would you like to go first?"
I sat back against the leather seat and directed my eyes forward purposely. "Anywhere but here."
"Ha ha," Andrew laughed, shifting the car into drive and slowly starting toward the front gate. "That can be arranged."
The side mirror showed a reflection I wished I hadn't seen as Andrew drove us out toward the main road. L stood on the steps of the house, his arms folded across his chest wearing a hurt and frustrated look I wouldn't have known he was capable of. Why wasn't he celebrating? Hadn't he proved his point? Hadn't he won?
Andrew turned on the radio, playing soft pop that emanated from the speakers. "This is my idea of a perfect day." He gushed, singing along to a song with the uncomfortable subject of love. I stuck my head out of the window, looking back as the electronic iron gate opened to let us pass. L hadn't moved and met my gaze, saying more than words ever could. My heart jumped into my throat, and I sat back in my seat, another troubling piece of the puzzle falling into place.
Anne had been right. Maybe winning hadn't been the objective after all.
