Julie checked again when the following reservations were, determining she had an hour break until the next players arrived. She picked up a small card from under the counter where the inscription "FOR RESERVATIONS PLEASE PRESS THE BELL" was written, along with a drawn arrow pointing to the red button on the counter. She placed the card next to the electronic bell so the customers could not miss it. Vin had devised it well; the bell rang like the normal bell of the front doors, except with a different melody, so Julie was able to take a break, eat breakfast, and perhaps ask Vin what he thought of the Blackwoods. This last question was still up in the air, left for consideration; she didn't want Vin to read her mind. He always saw everything, so she wondered if he would be able to notice her current state.
Julie knew she should have breakfast, but somehow she wasn't hungry, because of the heat, were her thoughts while stepping toward the front door. She sat down at the kitchen table, trying to analyze the recent event. How could she have been drawn so strongly to a woman she had never seen before, about which she knew absolutely nothing, and with whom she had barely exchanged two sentences? She was trying to explain that to herself but did not succeed. She looked at the refrigerator, concluding she had no appetite and took only a banana from the bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Grandma would bring her breakfast if she was hungry later, so it was no use forcing down food now. She bit the soft top of the yellow fruit, staring at the sea from the window.
"Julie, you're not a very good worker," Vin called from the corridor, and continued, "is Grandma back yet?"
She quietly responded, not even turning to look at him. "Where is Grandma anyway? I didn't even know she wasn't home."
"Ah, she went out with Flora to buy me some necessities for the trip, and I forgot to tell her that I ran out of razor blades. I'll call her now."
In the background she heard Vin talking on a phone, "... and please buy some breakfast for my valuable worker. She's eating a banana, and there's no plate on the table. Buy her..." then he walked away so that Julie couldn't hear him, but she knew he had told their grandmother to buy a little pastry with chocolate and cinnamon, her favorite treat since childhood.
Vin peeked again through the doorframe.
"Julie, thank you again. I love you a lot."
With a full mouth, she mumbled some unarticulated words which Vin assumed to a declaration of sibling love.
"And the Blackwoods, Vin?" She had decided to ask a few questions, but when the kitchen stayed in silence, Julie looked back at Vin. He was long gone, without being touched by the sound of her question.
Good thing he didn't hear me given that I don't know what to ask him, she concluded. Married women are forbidden to even think about. She cut off any future thought by throwing the banana peel into the trash.
She picked up her laptop and opened a book about young Uta to pass her time outside while waiting for clients to finish with their matches. She had felt a pain in the shoulder for some time now, but couldn't remember if she had hit it somewhere.
Julie directed clients to the courts, served juice, listened to music on the laptop, and occasionally read the book about a courageous girl in a settlement in which she was surrounded exclusively by women. Noticing a small swelling beside her collarbone, she tried to treat it with ice, while managing all her duties. Even though she tried to occupy herself with various activities, Mrs Blackwood was still standing somewhere in the back of her mind. It was almost lunchtime when her grandmother returned with a pastry more delicious than the most hidden pleasures.
"Granny's dear, you've been sitting here all morning, are you tired?" Not waiting for an answer she just continued, "Are you hungry, Julie? Here I brought you that one you like the most—" She abruptly stopped, taking the paper bag with the exquisite smell out of her canvas bag. "Juliette, for the love of god! What's with that injury? What happened?" This time, she kept silent after her questions, waiting for an answer with a worried expression.
"It's nothing. I bumped it somewhere, nothing serious. Ice will take the swelling down."
"And to think that I heard a thump this morning, just a moment before I saw you hastening to the courts through the window."
Then, Julie recalled the doorframe and shoulder incident.
"Now dear, come for lunch in an hour. When are your bookings? I see that you've changed professions." She leaned over the notebook, squeezing her eyes to read. "Oh, those are the last ones, they are our guests..." Grandma started her chat, knowing more about each guest than they would appreciate. She was like Poirot.
She read people like a real psychoanalyst. Julie recalled Vin's constant teasing about how Grandma should be hired by the FBI. Julie couldn't compose herself enough not to spread her lips into a mild smile, her grandmother talking passionately as if she was recounting the events of a soap opera.
"And you laugh at your elders, shame on you." Grandma went on undisturbed with a raised chin. "I'm telling you that I concluded that by his collar..."
She continued with the story until Vin interrupted her with a phone call, waiting impatiently for everything she had bought.
"In an hour, Juliette. Don't let me die of age while I wait for you," Grandma warned her one more time before leaving.
***
Julie was expecting home-made cuisine, but she found herself looking at meals ordered from a nearby restaurant. She wasn't complaining, shrimp would certainly be her first choice when it came to lunch. Vin came down and took some skimpy bites in passing, and their grandmother experimented with a dry fig pie in the kitchen, so Julie spent her lunchtime alone. Thankfully, the tennis courts weren't booked in the swing of the sun. Before leaving the table, she took a clean plate and filled it with shrimp; she knew that Vin had no appetite from the stress. Walking toward his room, she carried the plate in her left hand because of her shoulder injury.
"Julie, Julie." Vin paced across the room in a rush. "I don't know where I've put my things. I'll go crazy by the time I'm packed."
"Come on, don't be so overdramatic. You said that it was only for a few days. What you forget, you'll buy there, you're not going to a deserted island. Stores can be found everywhere, so stop this panic."
Vin calmed, and tossed his scattered clothes off the edge of the bed so Julie could sit on it.
"It's not that, I mean it is, but it is not..."
"Vin, you're nervous about the meeting. Everything will be perfect. I've come to go through your presentation and I've brought us some leftover shrimp. You shouldn't go on an empty stomach."
He leaned over her, pressed his lips on her forehead. She hugged him and patted his back. He took out several large posters.
"I've got it all on USB, but this way is easier for me, so we'll go through it with posters."
"Go, go, whatever suits you better."
In the beginning, he made large breaks between sentences, searching for the right words to begin his speech about monotone graphs. Julie listened carefully, smiling every time he connected two sentences without an unpleasant break. They went through the presentation several times, in fact, Vin repeated it until Julie had decided that he was reciting it. His shoulders straightened, voice deepened, and the breaks were made only in the right parts. Julie watched him proudly, forgetting the tennis courts, and her painful shoulder. She would have forgotten Mrs Blackwood too, if Vin hadn't asked, to her misfortune, how the work down on the courts was going.
He was packing things beside Julie, and she helped him.
"Julie, I was thinking, I'm going to put up a job post. I'll say it's urgent. So you don't have to work on the courts, take the first person who applies for it. Anyone will be fine for those few days I'm absent. All right?"
She nodded.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, what would it be?" With a smile, she concealed her curious sadness.
"To begin with, I noticed your shoulder, but because I'm in a hurry, I haven't had the chance—"
Julie interrupted him. "You didn't get the chance to tease me."
Vin looked at her intently. "No, I didn't get the chance to react." He looked back at the suitcase and leisurely asked, "Door frame?"
Julie shrugged and shyly confessed. "Yes."
"And Mrs Blackwood?"
"What about her?" Julie tried to push past the topic.
"Oh don't pretend. I saw you through the window, and I saw you in the kitchen, and I see you now as well, somehow you seem... hmm, somewhat thoughtful."
"Don't make things up, Vin."
He started to justify his assumptions. "What am I making up, Juuulie? She is totally your type of woman." And then he changed tone by following her reaction to his next sentences. "You have your eye on her, come on admit it. Just say it."
"Vin, how can you? I'm not some kind of yokel." She was left stunned and resumed in wonder, "Have an eye on her! I'm not one of those blokes from the court."
"And what's with being so refined all of a sudden? it's not like we haven't commented on women before. Spit it out, let me hear."
"There's nothing to hear."
"What, you mean to tell me that the Blackwoods are a plain, boring, typical couple?"
"Vin, she's married."
"So? It's not forbidden to look at her. The woman is more than attractive. If only she had blonde hair... You know me, I'm too narcissistic, but we all know your taste – like you didn't notice her. And as for the marriage thing, I'm not one hundred percent sure, I didn't ask them... I mean it's obvious, but nevertheless, you never know."
"What do you mean, it's obvious?"
"Ahh, so you did notice them after all."
"Vin!"
"Weeell... I came to that conclusion from seeing their ID cards when they came the first time. The same surname, they don't resemble each other, they are physically intimate, and I think even I saw them kissing on the beach – though I'm not sure, they were far in the distance... Ah, I can't recall now but I know something made me sure of this."
"And the rings, Vin?"
"Tsk, I didn't look, but who wears the ring on the tennis court? People usually take them off so they don't get a blister from gripping the handle."
"Evelyn wears a ring."
"Ooo, you even made introductions. Wait, wait – now that you mentioned it... Yes, that was it. When they first came to play tennis, Evelyn gave me her ID. I referred to her as a miss, and she corrected me to Mrs Blackwood. At that moment Karen commented: You don't have to correct the whole world, newlywed Mrs Blackwood."
"Karen."
Vin didn't take any notice of Julie's dreamy pronunciation of the name.
"Then I suspected it, and the ID cards, somehow it all matched and then the kiss on the beach. Yet again, I'm not certain... I'm pretty sure I saw Evelyn, and I assumed that she was kissing Karen – who else would she kiss – and, among other things... It's not that I'm saying something here, but Evelyn is a bit tomboyish."
Julie was just preparing herself to confess that no other woman had ever attracted her this much, but Grandma's knocking interrupted them. She came to tell them how some people were walking around the garden with tennis rackets.
"Oh, it's 4 pm already! Vin, I have to go. See you when I finish, and I'll drop you off at the airport for good luck."
The sunny afternoon was packed with players. Julie hardly managed to go to the toilet at several critical moments. As much as Karen fascinated her, she remained a taken woman.
"She's not the only one in the world," Julie retorted to Vin when he tried to tease her a little bit more as they were parting beside the private plane at the salt-scented airport.
She drove through the night that was filled with silent waves, staring at the stars, fearing the night because of the thoughts that came in lone moments. There was nothing around her, just a deserted road with no headlights of other cars. In the distance, the dimmed lights of small settlements were smoldering. She lowered the window below the closed sunroof to hear the sea beside which she was driving. Every mile that was left behind has brought a heavy thought of the future, because of past events. She knew the past could not be changed, and while her reason told her no one was at fault, she was aware of it without really understanding it.
The place of tourist pleasures was in close proximity by now, and some company would be appreciated, but Vin was away, Grandma would certainly be asleep, and she didn't know anyone else here because she hadn't spent more than two months in the villa over the summer. All her schooling years were spent in a big city, she had started working right away, and her visitations were reduced to just a few times a year on holidays and vacation, mainly to see her grandmother. Fortunately, Vin followed her life cycle, so at least she had not been separated from him for more than a few weeks.
She parked the car beside a sandy beach, near an evening crowd of smiling tourists. Julie watched it all from the inside of the vehicle. On one side, the waves were rippling against the beach, creating foam on the edges. She watched small bubbles spurt as they touched the brown grains. Her eyesight could not reach the distance because of the darkness. Only a few meters away, the horizon was cut off by the moon's rays. She liked to look into the murk of darkness, but that was not the reason for her coming here. On the other side, the light of the yellow lamps illuminated the crowd on the concrete shore beside the restaurant terraces and lounges. Several couples drifted into the shadows at the crossroads of these two worlds, and she looked like a voyeur behind the front glass. Julie was not sure if she should go out among the people to absorb the energy of flickering conversations, or stay in her thoughts behind the dense line of nothingness. She noticed the mist that was forming on the window from her breath, and now the yellow light was completely scattered; the people were moving like gleaming silhouettes. She opened the door, trying to step into the area of unburdened movements.
She walked a distance from the large groups, each vibration of a superficial story about water temperature and high prices on restaurant tables took her far from thinking about the meaning of life. Over time, that almost completely relaxed her; she even stopped at a pancake stand, taking the one with chocolate, asking for a double serve of whipped cream. The evening is wonderful, she thought, it would be wonderful to share it with somebody. It doesn't have to be a girlfriend; a friend would be enough – or a brother. Along with the enjoyment, in juicy bites came the sound of an evening concert of traditional compositions. Usually, she did not listen to it, but this time the ordinariness of it soothed her, that merging with the masses. Julie settled on the planter in the back of a stone square. In front of her was a stage, but it was not visible from that spot because of other people's heads . She was taking bites of her pancake from between a smudgy napkin, making sure not to stain herself with it. The city administration organized an evening program almost every night of the tourist season; during those five months all local performers could be heard. It's not bad at all. Julie's thoughts were now occupied by this topic. This way foreigners can get acquainted with the culture of the Mediterranean region.
She was already full, but never would Julie throw food away – her beliefs strongly opposed it – so she decided to rest her pancake and finish it by the car. Getting up, she saw something that left her with only a half breath inhaled. The hand holding the pancake fell to her thigh. The sight made her forget about the contents of the napkin. She watched in puzzlement.
Is that Evelyn? she wondered, leaning from a solid stance. Not many women have a hairstyle like hers, was the taught that coursed through Julie's head while she stared at two embracing feminine figures from behind. This other one must be Karen, the outline fits her completely, at least as far as I can tell from the back. At one point the woman she thought was Evelyn turned to the other woman's neck, gently pressing her lips to it.
Now Julie was sure of who she was looking at. She'd partially seen her face after all, but to her surprise, the owner of the elongated neck was not Karen, yet some other woman, an unknown woman. The napkin slipped out of her hand without her even noticing it. She just stared intently. The other woman placed her hand under Evelyn's chin and tenderly offered her lips to her. Carried with romantic notes, the women were kissing in the rhythm of the piano tunes. Julie could not believe it, now she could see them clearly. Their eyelids closed as they indulged in the pleasures. Is it possible that Evelyn is cheating on her? She took two steps to get closer, not able to trust her eyesight. She had to discern the truth of this scene.
They were kissing with small breaks for gazes permeated with gentleness. Nothing hindered them from doing so. It almost seems like they need a room, Julie thought. Where is Karen? she wondered as her eyes met Evelyn's. As usual, she did not know how to react in such a situation, so Julie just watched, stunned. Evelyn looked bluntly at her for a while, and then she did something completely unexpected – she raised her hand in greeting. That startled Julie. What if she came to her? What if she asked her to keep silent about what she saw? What if she threatened her? You never knew who you were dealing with. She shuddered, pretending to leave the scene. She arranged a sour smile, and Evelyn looked at her confusedly. Julie lowered her head to the ground. Barely turning to the position which would allow her a fast escape, she was met with crushed chocolate remains on the ground. She bent down to pick up the mess when a female heel stepped on it. That made her lift her head in order to apologize to the woman who was now looking for a tissue to wipe the dark traces off her summer sandals.
"Oh, I almost stepped on you as well," a woman's voice commented through a smile. "I didn't see you down there, I haven't stepped on your fingers have I?"
Julie swallowed a lump in her throat, squatting beside Karen's tanned legs beneath designer safari Bermuda shorts. She felt her saliva leaving her mouth.
***
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