"We'll have to talk about this sooner or later you know," Gail told her not moving the arm that she had draped over her eyes. Emily just rolled out of bed and headed for the shower hearing the sigh behind her before she closed the door.



"I can't talk about something I have no answers for," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror.



Gail and Emily walked along the shoreline at six to get to Parker's house in silence. They both watched the undulations, which really couldn't be called waves, in the water as if they held the answers to what was wrong with them. Gail noticed the ball the dog had left in Emily's hand, the hand closest to her so that she couldn't hold it.



"You go out into that sand and I'm throwing you on the grill." The voice held no hint of teasing and Emily and Gail stopped in their tracks. "I mean it, Abby, it takes an hour to blow dry all that damn fur of yours," Parker finished. Emily could see him standing on the edge of the deck looking at her hand and quickened her steps not to get the pooch in trouble.



"Hey," Emily called up. Emily's greeting was followed by Abby's loud barking, alerting a ten-mile radius of the women's arrival.



"Hey come on up. Don't worry Abby's h-a-r-m-l-e-s-s," said Parker. Gail quirked an eyebrow at the spelling and thought this was going to be a really long night.



"Go on, Emily, obviously he's harmless." No sooner had the word left Gail's mouth Abby underwent a transformation. Like a cat his fur stood on end and his teeth were bared in a snarl.



"Abercrombie Princeton King, down," shouted Parker. The yell made the dog whip his head around and instantly sit. He looked up at Parker and seemed to wait to see how much trouble he was in. "She didn't mean it, boy, everybody knows you're the real King Kong around here," Parker cooed to the dog. The wagging tail was back and he was back to trying to coax the two women in the sand to join them.



"What in the hell was that?" demanded Gail. If the woman had some kind of vicious dog, she shouldn't have invited people over without locking him up first.



"Sorry Abby takes exception when people call him what you just did. Makes him feel like a weenie I guess. Say you're sorry, boy," ordered Parker. Abby walked to Emily first and offered a paw with his head bowed, which she accepted giving him his ball back. The dog offered the same to Gail but pinned the woman with eyes surprisingly like his master's.



"Hey I'm glad you came and I hope you're hungry." Behind Parker a formidable sized grill was burning logs of hickory down to coal, and next to it sat large steaks of salmon. Everything looked organized and within easy reach to an experienced cook like Emily. It was one of her hobbies that she didn't get to practice very often.



"You cook, Miss King?" It wasn't until just then that the pilot wondered if Parker knew her name. They had never used a first name basis in all their previous meetings.



"Please, Captain, call me Parker." She held a large tanned hand toward Gail and introduced herself to Emily's companion. "Welcome to my home, I'm Parker King and you've met Abercrombie."



"Thanks for the invitation, I'm Gail Ingles and I see you already know Emily. And I hardly think you need an introduction Parker, congratulations on your recent win." Parker nodded at the greeting and pointed to some seats after the formalities were out of the way and moved behind the outside bar.



"Can I get you two something to drink?"



"White wine and a scotch if you have it," answered Gail for the two of them. Parker saw the look that Emily gave her partner for doing so and waited to see if the blonde would answer for herself.



"I'll have a hot chocolate actually."



"With or without marshmallows?" asked Parker.



"What the hell, with."



"Hot chocolate? What are you crazy, it's a hundred degrees out here." Gail's admonishments stopped when Parker uncapped the thermos on the bar and poured two cups of hot chocolate dropped in a handful of marshmallows into both then poured a scotch. "How did you know I'm not the wine drinker among us?" Brown eyes closed into an almost leer as Parker got their drink orders correct without having to ask.



"Just a hunch, Ms. Ingles."



"Gail, please." She accepted her drink and watched Emily wrap her hands around the mug Parker had given her like it was cold outside. Where in the hell had Emily met the number one tennis player in the world and why did they look so familiar with each other?



"Now why don't you two entertain yourselves for a moment while I cook some fish. If you ask nice enough, Abby will be happy to run the gamut of tricks he knows, just start with play dead and work your way down." It had occurred to Parker to walk next door during her run and cancel since Gary had moved their photo shoot up a day, but despite the partner, she had wanted to see Emily again before they went home from their vacation.



"Abby, play dead," said Parker to start them off. Parker pulled an imaginary gun from her hip and shot him. The ham with fur put a little more into it than the usual just falling and not moving most dogs did. With a paw on his head he howled like Parker had actually pulled the trigger then staggered a bit before falling down at Emily's feet and moaning a few more times before he died. While Emily laughed at the big dog's antics Gail got up and poured herself another drink, filling the glass up more than Parker had. This was the Emily Gail had first met one night out with her friends. She was lost to Gail, but if seemed Parker had found her and coxed Emily out of the shell she had wrapped around her.



"Abby, dance," Parker prompted again. Gail kept her eyes on Parker, as Parker kept her eyes on Emily, who had her eyes on Abby. Leaving the dog to do a jig on his hind legs Parker asked Gail to watch the steaks for a minute while she ran inside. Emily praised Abby's efforts watching Parker retreat into the kitchen for a minute. The tall brunette returned with a bowl of marinating asparagus for the grill, and a smile for Emily.



Now that would be fun, to have a someone to cook with, thought Emily as she watched the young woman work away at the grill. Gail didn't like to do anything in the kitchen, while Emily loved to spend the day trying new recipes when she had the time. Why in the world am I thinking about this person like this? Parker's call to the table didn't give Emily time to contemplate the answer to her silent question.



During the meal Parker switched to water, as did Emily leaving Gail to finish the bottle of white wine in the cooler on the table. The trader declined coffee or hot chocolate and moved back to the scotch bottle she had started with at their arrival. They had run out of polite conversation twenty minutes before that and both Emily and Parker could see Gail's growing dark mood.



"Maybe we should go." Emily was reluctant to leave and deal with Gail, but couldn't find an excuse to stay.



"Could I walk you both home?" asked Parker seeing Gail's glassy look. If she stumbled in the dunes on the way back, Parker didn't think that Emily could handle her alone.



"I think we are fucking smart enough to find the house next door, Parker, so back off." Gail didn't know what this dinner had been about, but she and Emily had some things to discuss when they ditched the tennis star and her goddamn performing dog.



"I'm sorry if I offended you, Gail, I just thought you could use some help getting back." This was not the time to show the drunken woman sitting across from her that she could knock off more than the covers of tennis balls. "If you don't mind I have an early morning tomorrow, but I do appreciate you both joining me tonight."



Gail got up from the table and stumbled right back onto it breaking every dish on her way down. Abby bared his teeth again without growling and Emily looked like she was about to help the dog out by contributing her own growl.



"It's all right, Captain, Rosa will get it in the morning don't worry about it." Parker stopped the blonde before she picked anything up. Gail had turned already and made her way off the deck not waiting for Emily. "We can just say the dinner party was a smashing success."



"I'm sorry, Parker. Good night," was all Emily could think to say before she too stepped off into the darkness. At almost the half way point between the two houses Emily saw Gail waiting for her. The anger that had erupted on Parker's deck minutes before that had only gotten worse Emily could see so she walked up slowly. "Thank you for embarrassing me like that."



"You want to tell me when you became so fucking chummy with Parker King? Or did you fuck her to see what all the fuss was about?" Gail grabbed Emily's arm and squeezed as if trying to force her to answer the question.



"Maybe I did. At least she is sober past ten in the morning." For the first time they had been together, Gail balled her hand into a fist and cocked it back. Emily just looked at her as if daring her to carry through with the threat. "Let me go." She was shaking inside but Emily's voice sounded calm and clear.



"I'll decide when to let you go, don't forget that," said Gail squeezing Emily's arm harder. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hit you. There's no way you fucked someone else, Emily, because we both know you are too cold for that. I should tell your crew just how appropriate the nick name ice queen really is."



"I said let me go," said Emily with more passion this time. She pushed Gail getting to fall backward into the sand. When the grip came loose, Emily started to shake and tears filled her eyes. She turned and ran for the house leaving Gail sprawled out in the sand. The fact she never looked back should have been a clue as to what point she was at with her lover of three years, but Emily didn't care. Gail had crossed a line that night and there might not be a way back.



Continued in Chapter 3




Comments to: terrali20@yahoo.com









The Athenaeum's Scroll Archive

~ Game, Set and Match ~


by Ali Vali



Disclaimers: See Part 1


Chapter 3




"All right, people, let's get this stuff set up before we get one of those summer showers this place is famous for. I did the Sport's Illustrated cover here last year and ruined my favorite Nikon lens. If that happens today, heads will roll," said Annie Crain, the photographer Nike had hired.



A crew of fourteen women ran around the outside court setting up lighting equipment hoping to get as much natural light as they could. In the gym Parker was lifting weights in her birthday suit on a towel draped bench so there would be no marks on her body of any kind for the camera to find.



The shouting and music from next door finally woke Gail who was still asleep in the dunes with what tasted like a mouth full of sand. The combination of alcohol and sun had made a bad situation worse and she felt as if a team of horses had trampled her during the night. On the way into the house she passed Emily who had her bathing suit on and was on her way out. Emily shrank away from her as if in fear and Gail reached to comfort her making the blonde take a couple of steps back to get away from her. The small woman's demeanor told Gail that there was nothing to say at this point so she just headed to the shower and some aspirin. Maybe after a nap she would feel good enough to have the talk they were avoiding. Had Gail made it into the house the night before, she would have found the door to their bedroom locked.



The music pumping through the outdoor system made Emily put her book down and concentrate on what was happening next door. Besides a whole lot of people with camera equipment, there was a huge selection of tennis shoes around the outside of the court. Once the photographer was set up she called to a man named Nick and told him to get Parker. The shower the woman had been complaining about was just offshore and looked like it was bringing with it a dazzling lightening display.