Page 7 of Drop Shot (On the Court #2)

WHIMSY

As we approach the traditional Florida style home in the suburbs outside of Miami, I have a moment of panic where I just want to put a pin in this whole thing and say fuck it let’s just be honest with our parents that this is fake.

But I realize it’s safer for both of us if they think it’s real.

My mom is a talker, and I can imagine her letting something slip simply by accident.

I pull the car over on the street down the road with my parents’ house in my sights at the end of the street.

“Why are we pulling over?” Elias asks, rubbing his hands on his light-colored pants. He’s dressed up today, pairing the pants with a striped linen shirt. A hint of a chain glints every now and then at his neck and there’s a small hoop earring in one ear.

“I just … my mom is very … exuberant, okay? I love her to death but she can be a bit much and I just want you to be prepared.”

I’ve already tried to prep him on the drive over here after I picked him up, but I’m not sure it’s quite sunk in for him yet.

“And your dad?” he prompts. “He’s not going to pull a gun on me?”

I snort. “No.”

“We might live in Florida but my dad is not the gun toting type at all. He’s more of the … golf course, PTA dad type.”

“Okay, cool. I’m going to be fine, Whim. Stop worrying.”

I sigh, tucking my hair behind both ears. I dressed casually today in a sundress with a cardigan.

Easing off the brake, I turn into the driveway at the end of the street.

I’ve barely got the car in park before my mom is running outside, bare feet padding on the ground and blond hair the same shade as mine streaming behind her like a kite in the wind.

I slide out of the SUV, jaw dropping when my traitorous mother zooms past me to meet Elias as he shuts the passenger door. She practically launches herself at him as I round the front of the vehicle to watch their meeting.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to hide my amusement when her feet pop up behind her.

She has to stretch on her tiptoes to take his face in her hands when he sets her down.

“It’s so good to finally meet you. It’s a shame our Whimsy girl has been working for you for years and we’re just now meeting.

And dating? It’s about time you got your head out of the sand and saw how amazing our girl is. ”

I send Elias an apologetic glance. She finally releases his face and turns to me.

“My girl.”

“Hey, Mom.” I hug her tight.

She smells of her familiar perfume, a blend of vanilla and something floral that’s so uniquely her. Freckles and age spots dot her skin, speaking of a life spent in the sun. The lines around her eyes tell the story of all the laughs we’ve shared over the years.

“Come on in, guys. Your dad is holding Junie back.”

“Is she feral?” Elias quips easily.

My mom bursts into laughter. “That’s funny. I like him.” She squeezes my arm.

Inside, Juniper is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Whimsy!” she cries when she sees me. “Mom says you finally got a boyfriend!”

I groan, because of course the larger-than-life man trailing behind us hears this.

He laughs. “You must be Junie.”

I let him know on the drive about Juniper’s autism. It’s not something I like to tell people, because sometimes it feels like an unnecessary label. Junie is Junie. She’s my sister and I love her. But I felt like he should have some sort of heads up just in case she’s having a bad day.

“And you must be the idiot. At least that’s what my dad calls you for just now realizing how awesome my big sister is.”

“Juniper,” my dad groans, his face turning red. It contrasts sharply with his bright blue floral shirt.

Elias laughs the comment off easily. “It’s okay and you’re right. I mean, I’ve always known Whimsy is amazing, but I didn’t want to cross that work relationship line. When it’s right, though, it’s right.”

On my left I swear my mom is about to start shitting rainbows. She bounces from foot to foot with a gigantic grin.

“Well, I guess I can respect that.” My dad extends a hand to Elias. “I’m John.”

“Nice to finally meet you, John. Whimsy speaks so fondly of all of you.” He points a finger at Junie. “I have something for you.”

Her eyes light up with excitement, her smile showcasing her rows of braces. “You do?”

My mom’s hands collide, clasping beneath her chin. “Oh, that’s so kind of you.”

He pulls out a bag of sour gummy worms and a pack Pokémon cards. “Whimsy mentioned you like this. I happen to be a fan of both.”

Junie’s eyes widen even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She launches into talks about Pokémon and Elias joins in effortlessly. When Juniper asks if he wants to see her card collection he doesn’t hesitate to say yes and follows her to her room.

“Oh, Whimsy girl,” my mom croons. “I love him.”

“Mom! You met him five-seconds ago.”

“I don’t care.” She fans her face, probably trying to hold back the tears. “He’s wonderful.”

“Now, Jules, don’t go making assumptions so soon. He’s a bit of a hot-head on the court,” my dad warns, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering up the stairs where the sounds of Elias and Juniper chatting can be heard.

My mom rolls her eyes. “That’s on the court, John. He’s an athlete. Athletes have a lot of emotions when winning is at stake.”

“And you know so much about that how?” he asks, hands on his hips.

“Well, remember, before you I dated that rugby player and?—”

He holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about Evan and his thighs again.”

My mom giggles as my dad heads toward the kitchen. “Men are so sensitive. He acts like I didn’t marry him and have kids with him.” My eyes flicker upstairs and my mom, like always, senses what I want. “Let me grab a tray of fresh lemonade for you to take upstairs. Yeah?”

“Thanks, Mom.” I give her a grateful smile.

My mom is probably my best friend in the entire world. She can be a bit exuberant and over the top, but her heart is always in the right place.

“No problem.”

In the kitchen, I help her fill the glasses with ice and her signature homemade lemonade with white and blue striped straws and matching umbrellas.

I smile as I stroke one of the umbrellas.

I thought they were the cutest thing as a little girl and she used to add them to all my drinks so I would feel special.

If I ever have kids, I want to be a mom like her—a mother who goes out of her way for her kids, who does both the little and big things to make them feel important.

I load the drinks onto a tray and take them upstairs to Juniper’s room.

The outside of her door boasts an assortment of stickers around a plaque with her name.

I giggle when I notice a variety of the stickers are One Direction related.

The band is Junie’s latest obsession after binging a bunch of their videos on YouTube.

She’s always asking us when the next album is coming because she refuses to believe they’re actually broken up.

She doesn’t quite grasp the fact that while she just discovered them, the world has known about them much longer.

I give a light knock on the door that’s partially open.

Inside, I hear Juniper heave one of her signature dramatic sighs. “I told you she’d find us.”

Elias chuckles. “We could hide in the closet.”

Junie giggles in answer and there’s shuffling inside. “She’ll never find us,” I hear Junie whisper to him. Well, what she considers a whisper. “Come in,” she hollers out to me.

Shaking my head, I push the door open the rest of the way.

Inside, her room is the same as always. Beige carpet.

An eclectic mix of posters that don’t seem to match her butterfly covered quilt.

Her room is splashed with random articles of clothing that make me smile because it reminds me of when I was a teenager.

My room was always covered with my clothes like pieces of confetti forgotten on the floor.

“Junie Bug, I thought for sure I heard you in here,” I say, setting the tray down on her bed. “And to think I brought this yummy fresh lemonade up here to share with you. I guess I’ll just have to drink it all.”

I’ve no more than picked up my glass, then she comes tumbling out of the closet with a cry of, “No! Don’t touch my lemonade.”

Elias peeks around the edge of her closet door with a mischievous grin. Him and my sister together are a lethal combination because the shenanigans they can get into are limitless.

I arch a brow at him. “What would Tennis Today say if they saw you hiding in a closet?” I quip.

Elias shakes his head clearly trying not to smile. He rubs his fingers over his lips to hide anything that might poke through.

“You’re terrible.”

I shrug. “I mean, they seem to think since you don’t date that you must be gay.”

It’s actually pretty disgusting to me that a magazine about a sport cares so much about any players sexuality.

It’s pretty funny too considering Elias isn’t shy about hiding his conquests and anyone that knows him knows he’s not the type to hide anything.

If he were gay he’d be loud and proud about it.

He was one of the first players to openly speak out in support when a fellow US doubles player came out as gay.

“Elias, come on,” Junie encourages, scooping up her own glass of lemonade. “My mom makes the best homemade lemonade. Just you wait. It’ll blow your mind.”

“The best?” he asks, stepping fully out of the closet and sliding the door shut behind him. “I definitely have to try it then.”

Junie grabs the remaining glass since I’ve already claimed mine and hands it to Elias. She wears an eager grin, waiting for him to take a sip.

He does, eyes widening with impressed glee. “That is some damn good lemonade.”

Juniper laughs. “Told ya. Our mom makes all kinds of good stuff.”

“Is that so?” he arches a brow in my direction. “Like what?”

“She makes pretty much everything from scratch. Bread, pasta, you name it and she has an entire garden I’m sure she’ll force you to see before we leave,” I explain.