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I t was the last Picklers’ practice before the Paddle Battle.

The kids were especially riled up, and Endy could barely keep them under control.

Maria reached into boxes and frantically handed each kid a tournament-player bag that contained a T-shirt, reusable water bottle, energy bars, and a printed copy of Saturday’s schedule.

Most kids tore the bag open, with some already pulling the T-shirt over their heads and finishing off the energy bar in a few bites.

“You guys!” yelled Endy over the noise. “Get out to your assigned court. Now!”

Maria raised an eyebrow and shook her head when nobody moved, the chaos continuing.

Endy threw up her hands in frustration. But then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and searched her playlist. She tapped the play button, and the music immediately switched from Olivia Rodrigo to Frank Sinatra singing “Fly Me to the Moon.”

She turned up the volume, and the kids stopped almost dead in their tracks. Over the music, Endy heard them grumbling.

“Ugh, Endy! What the heck?” someone yelled.

“Why the old guy music?”

Paco made a farting noise with his lips.

Endy grinned. “Get out to your assigned court!” she yelled again, and the kids dropped their bags and scurried out to the pickleball courts, presumably to get away from the painful music playing.

But from the other nearby pickleball courts, where the Whisper Hills members gathered and played, Endy heard a crooning harmony coming from George Jacobs as he held his wife, Dawn, in his arms and swayed her to the sweet sound of Sinatra.

Seeing Endy watching them, George blew a kiss her way right before he twirled Dawn under his arm, then dipped her low.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” George shouted. “Hoody hoo!”

Endy sighed. The Jacobses had been married for over forty years, and even now they were still so much in love. Will I ever have that kind of love ? Endy wondered with longing. She sighed again.

Endy stopped at each court and gave instructions to the kids. She didn’t want to put undue pressure on them since the Paddle Battle was really a fundraiser, not an actual tournament. Hopefully, real tournaments would come in time, but for now, this event would just be for fun and fundraising.

When she got to the farthest court, she saw only three players—two teenage boys on one side of the net and Paco rushing around the other side by himself.

“That’s all you got?” yelled Paco as he ran up and back, side to side. “You guys play like my baby sister.”

Endy stopped outside the gate. “Hey, where’s your fourth player?” She looked at her clipboard and saw that Brayden was supposed to be with them.

The kids stopped playing, and Paco tapped his paddle against his leg. “He’s over on court one. That guy Joel took him.”

Endy gazed past all the pickleball courts in front of them to the one closest to the pro shop.

Indeed, there was Joel with Brayden, feeding him shots and coaching him on strokes.

Endy knew that Joel was taking the competition for the Paddle Battle seriously, and it annoyed her that he had only just started taking an interest in pickleball when it suited him. He wanted to win, pure and simple.

Endy turned back to Paco. “Too bad Sebastian isn’t here to sub in,” she said. “Was he busy tonight?” Endy wondered if maybe Sebastian had plans with Sloane, and that’s why he wasn’t at Picklers.

“Nah, he was going to come tonight but texted me and said he hurt his knee again,” replied Paco with a scowl. “Tennis can really mess you up.”

Endy gave a rueful smile. “Well, pickleball injuries are probably more common, but …” Her eyebrows drew together in worry. “How bad is it? Will he still be able to partner with you at the Paddle Battle?”

“Yeah,” replied Paco. “He promised he would. He said it’s only a little bit hurt and he is just being careful with it until Saturday.”

“Oh okay, thank goodness,” said Endy, relieved. She looked at the three kids on the court. “There’s still fifteen minutes left for tonight. Do you want me to get one of the members to come over and play with you guys?” She pointed over to the courts where the Whisper Hills members played.

At the same time that the two other players chimed in with “yes,” Paco grimaced and said, “Oh, hell nah.”

Endy looked over the member courts, scanning the players to see who would be a good fourth, when a shrill cry came from the farthest court. All of the pickleball players halted, and heads craned toward the court.

“Oh no,” muttered Endy as she ran to help.

Gary Lombardi leaned heavily on the pickleball net, his shoulder drooping. His face paled and his eyelids fluttered.

“Gary, what happened?” exclaimed Endy as she arrived on the court.

Dr. Markowitz approached them and with one look said, “Could be the rotator cuff. Anybody have a bag of ice?”

“No, no, this hurts worse than what ice can do for it,” complained Gary. “I might faint.”

Endy put her arm around Gary’s waist and held him tight as Steven supported Gary’s dangling arm. “And I’m pretty sure I’m going to need something stronger than an Advil.” They led Gary to a bench, where he gingerly sat down.

“Someone call Dean to come get Gary and bring him to Eisenhower,” instructed Steven.

“What time is it? Dean is at his climate change conference event tonight and won’t get out until after eight o’clock.” Gary whimpered. “Oh, the pain.”

“Don’t worry, Gary, I’ll bring you,” volunteered Endy. “Maria can finish up with Picklers while I go get my car.” Endy pulled out her phone and texted Maria, letting her know what had happened. “Can someone help Gary to the parking lot? I’ll be there in two minutes.”