Secrets

"You missed your true calling" I yelled across the net. "You should have been a tennis coach!"

"It would be more fun" Lori answered, "but it doesn't pay nearly as well as my current gig. Plus, I'm not sure I have the patience to deal with new players."

We agreed to play a set, and she smoked me 6-0. I won a few points, and she took it easy on me, but every ball I returned would come back, and eventually I would make a mistake, or not be able to track down a ball, and lose the point and eventually the game. Lori was a gracious winner and complimented me on being a good student, and that my playing had improved over the course of the 90 minutes we were playing.

"Thanks for the lesson. I really appreciate it. I now have an idea of what I have to work on the next time I play" I said.

To my surprise, Lori asked, "Would you like to do this on a regular basis? Hitting tonight has brought back my desire to play more often. It would also help me leave some of the office stress behind at least once in a while."

I said sure, and we agreed to meet weekly at 7:30 on Thursday night at the park courts.

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Thursday night tennis became a regular event. The 90 minutes soon became two hours. I slowly got better while Lori knocked off all of her rust. We would generally play three sets and I would lose all three, but I got a good workout and I could tell my shots were improving. Most importantly, I was beginning to love playing and Thursday nights were a big part of my week. Lori seemed to be enjoying it as well, even though I wasn't really competitive with her. It also motivated me to hit the aerobic machines at the Y with more enthusiasm and effort, because as I found out, playing singles for two hours was tough on the legs and lungs.

About a month later, after we were finished, we were talking after playing. Lori quietly said, "I want you to know I came out to my parents. They weren't real happy, but my mom suspected that I was gay, and both just want me to be happy. I told Marni, and she said she knew already, because `what else are best friends for'? I came out at work last week, and so far, there are no issues. I guess we are living in different times."

I thanked her for sharing with me. She then added, "Thanks for your help. Telling you was somehow cathartic; someone else knew my secret and the world didn't end. I'm thankful you were there to listen when I needed someone to listen."

She then dropped her tennis bag and stepped towards me and gave me a big hug, which I wasn't expecting. I just added that I was glad to be of help, and we made arrangements to play the next Thursday.

We played through the summer and fall, missing only a few weeks here and there when we had conflicts, or the courts were too wet to play. We stopped at the end of October, when the weather became too cold to play outside. We agreed once the weather warmed up in the spring we would start our Thursday night sessions again.

I joined an indoor tennis club and started playing doubles once a week to get my tennis fix during the winter. I was hooked.

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Come April we were back at it. Lori was impressed how my game had improved since we played last in October. Besides the doubles league, I took some lessons and played in some clinics and was beginning to better understand the nuances of both singles and doubles. I was turning into a tennis junkie, and had made some tennis friends that I could play with on a regular basis. I hit a milestone in mid-April when I finally beat Lori in a set, and while the competitive side of her was mad at losing, she was gracious in her praise of my play--and vowed not to let losing happen again.

We were playing the first Thursday in May, and while I had lost, I had been competitive. Usually when we finished we would confirm arrangements for the next Thursday, and then depart. This time, Lori surprised me when she asked if I wanted to go get a beer. I said sure. She then told me the bar's name, "The Grove," and added, "It's kind of a lesbian bar, if that's going to bother you, but they have a good selection of beers on draft and the food is pretty good if you want something to eat." I said that wasn't a problem, so I loaded the address in my phone and headed off, a bit curious as to why this invite came out of the blue.

Lori arrived first at The Grove, but she was waiting for me at the entrance so that we could walk in together. Fortunately, I had an extra t-shirt in my car to change into so I wasn't too sweaty, but I figured it wasn't likely to be a "target-rich environment," so I didn't have much to lose.

We walked to a table of about eight women in the middle of the bar, and most of them said hello to Lori as we approached. She introduced me to the group, and rattled off their names (which I promptly forgot), and one of them said, "You're the tennis guy." I looked confused, so she repeated, "You're the tennis guy that Lori keeps talking about playing. It's good to meet you in the flesh."

I didn't know it at the time, but that eventually became my name, "Tennis Guy."

The group pulled another table and several chairs and offered me a seat and a menu. I ordered a beer and a cheeseburger, and began talking to a couple of the women seated next to me.

Then another woman walked up to Lori, and they kissed. Lori turned to me and said "Dave, this is my girlfriend Alexa. Alexa, this is Dave, my tennis friend." We shook hands and exchanged "Nice to meet you's," and Alexa sat down next to me. I assumed I knew why Lori had asked me to come; she wanted me to meet Alexa.

Alexa, asked me, "You used to date Lori's roommate, Marni, right? Isn't that a bit weird to be seeing Lori on a regular basis?"

"No," I answered. "We never talk about her. I don't ask and Lori doesn't offer. Usually when we are together we spend most of the time playing tennis and not talking a lot. It's been almost three years now; I've moved on" (ok, I was kind of lying to myself).

We spent the next half hour talking. I found out how they met (match.com), that Alexa owned a salon that offered haircuts and other services, like waxing, manicures/pedicures, beauty consultations, and the like. She had been the owner for five years, and was fairly successful. She had a degree in business and an interest in fashion and she was able to combine the two skills into a successful business. She was shorter than Lori, with black spiky hair and exquisite makeup (yes, I noticed), and a fun, spunky personality. I could see why Lori liked her.

At the end of the conversation, Alexa said "Lori says you're the reason she came out."

I tried to disagree, just saying I was just in the right place and the right time, but Alexa was firm, "No, it was more than that. She said you helped her clear her mind, and I know she appreciates that."

"Well, that's nice to hear, so thank you. I'm sure it was hard for her, but she seems to have become more comfortable with her decision" I said. "She certainly seems happier now, more relaxed. I imagine you are part of that too."

Then Alexa added, "Lori's right. Marni is an idiot for dumping you for Richard."

I just laughed and said I will just have to come back more often.

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That became my Thursday night ritual for the summer. Lori and I would play for a couple of hours and I would meet her at The Grove for a couple of beers and a burger or other food. I eventually learned the names of most of their regular gang and they made me feel welcome. Lori and Alexa referred to me as Dave but to the rest I was "Tennis Guy" or just "Guy." Several of them joked I was the only "Guy" they liked.

Several of the groups were nurses at the local hospital. They would work second shift so they would arrive around the same time Lori and I would from our tennis match. About six weeks after I started going to The Grove, several of the nurses, once they found out I was an accountant and worked in the investment area of my company, started asking me about their 401(k) investment options. That night I went over a few of the basics, but I offered to meet them at the hospital on my lunch break (and before they started their shifts) to go over their choices in more detail.

I arrived at the hospital cafeteria at the arranged time (and as they had promised, the food was better than I would have expected), and instead of meeting with two of the group, Cindy and Joanna, there were two more who I hadn't met before, Samantha and Darcy, who was Alexa's younger sister, and also a nurse at the same hospital. I pulled out my laptop (never leave home without it!) and went through their investment options with them. I tried to keep it simple and made suggestions about deferral percentages, investment choices, and other matters.

They managed not to fall asleep and said what I told them was very helpful. I gave them my cell number and email address and told them to feel free to ask any questions if they had them--and then I joked this was the first time I had given my cell number out to women in a long time. They thanked me, but I told them that what I did was easy; what they did--caring for those who needed help--was a lot more difficult, and something I could never do.

The Thursday following the meeting I did the normal tennis and Grove thing and when I got ready to pay my bill to leave the waitress said "It's taken care of." Cindy and Joanna had arranged to pay for my bill as their thank you to me for the free consulting; I also got a couple of unexpected hugs in addition to free booze and food. So in addition to being the "tennis guy" I was the "CPA guy."

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About a month later after our Thursday night match Lori asked me to walk over to where her car was parked. When we arrived at her car she opened the trunk and pointed to a black plastic trash bag.

"Alexa has been on me to update my wardrobe. It seems I now have a personal shopper" laughed Lori. "Alexa made me clear out some of my older clothes to make room for the new Alexa-approved additions. I was going to donate them to Goodwill, but then I realized we were probably about the same size, so maybe you would like them? I know you said you haven't been dressing lately, so if you don't want them, that's fine, and I'll just donate them.

"But if you are interested, I'd like you to have them."

That was a surprise. A big surprise. A "what do I want to do?" surprise.

"This is unexpected" I blurted out. I wasn't sure if I wanted them or not.

Lori was silent while I made my decision. "I'm not sure I want to open Pandora's Box" I said, more to myself, than to her. The angel and devil on my shoulders were arguing, and I wasn't sure which one was which.

Finally my body made the decision. Without a word, I reached into the trunk, grabbed and lifted the bag, and slammed the trunk shut, and started walking to my car.

Lori just laughed, and then added to my anguish as I walked towards my car. "I've got another bag for you if you want it. See you at the Grove."

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I left the bag in the trunk of my car.

Sunday morning I went for my weekly long run, listening to the radio over the internet, mulling in my mind what I wanted to do.

Near the end of my run, I knew my decision. Or more accurately, I ran out of reasons why I shouldn't have a look at what Lori gave me.

After my shower and breakfast, I went to my car and pulled the bag out of my trunk and carried it into my living room, curious as to what treasures waited inside, and whether they would fit me or not.

I sat on my sofa and pulled out items one by one. A top, then a skirt, some panties, a couple of bras, a sweater dress, and so forth. All good quality, in good shape and good taste. I recognized many of the brand names.

Everything was in a pile on the Ottoman; the next test was whether they fit or not. I stripped, and tried a pair of Victoria Secret panties and a matching VS 38C bra. Lori was right; we were roughly the same size--and they fit me. I walked into my bedroom to see myself in the mirror--and to grab a pair of socks to stuff my bra. The view in the mirror pleased me.

I walked back into the living room, grabbed the pile from the Ottoman in both arms, and carried the load into my bedroom and dumped it on the bed. I sorted them into piles; panties, bras, tops, bottoms (skirts, jeans, slacks), and dresses. I started with the tops, and tried pairing the top with an appropriate bottom, followed by an assessment in the mirror. Several of the tops were too small, or didn't suit me, and a pair of the jeans and one of the skirts were much too small to fit.

It was ninety minutes of being a kid on Christmas morning. I dug out my one pair of heels to help complete the look. I especially liked the combination of a black and white patterned top with a black wrap-around skirt, and a silver sweater dress that would likely need a pair of leggings.

After I tried on all my hand-me-downs, I put the rejects in a bag for a future donation, and stored the remaining items in a drawer in my closet--except for the Minnie Mouse t-shirt and a pair of mom skinny jeans, which I put on and returned to my living room to watch the ballgame on TV.

I grabbed my phone, took a selfie showing the Minnie Mouse t-shirt, and typed out a text to Lori.

[Thanks for the clothes. Took me a while to know what I wanted to do. It was a very nice gesture by you. Very happy to have your hand-me-downs.

You were right. Most of your things fit. I will donate the ones that didn't fit or didn't work.

Thanks again. See you Thursday].

I attached the selfie and hit send and then typed and sent an afterthought.

[Will gladly take your other bag].

A few minutes later my phone pinged. The answering text was two smiley faces.

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It was a Thursday night in late August and Lori and I were talking and having a drink at The Grove following our match. I had won a set (lost the other two) so I was feeling pretty good, even without the aid of the alcohol. Lori asked me if I was available the last Saturday in September. I checked my calendar, found no conflicts, and said "Sure. What did you have in mind?" but Lori told me she'd just let me know later.

The following Thursday night at The Grove Lori let the cat out of the bag. "My former high school is having a mixed doubles tournament on Saturday, September 24th. It's a fundraiser for their tennis team. I've entered us in the tournament."

"Don't you think you should have asked me first?" I objected.

"I did" said Lori.

"No, you just asked whether I was available, not whether I wanted to play!" raising my voice just a tad.

"Oh well, too bad, so sad. We're entered," and to emphasize Lori reached out and poked me in the chest, laughing. "And I've arranged for a couple of my friends to come out the next two Thursday nights so we can practice playing doubles together. You got a problem with that too???"

I folded like a cheap tent.

The next two Thursdays were a master's class in doubles. Lori showed me the finer points of doubles strategies; where to stand, how to move to follow the play, what shots to use and which shots to avoid. It was clear she was all-in for this tournament.

The first week I was thinking instead of reacting, always a step slow, and playing stiffly. The second Thursday I began to get the feel, and Lori and I began to play as a real team. Her friends were solid players and long-time doubles partners, and they challenged us but made it a lot of fun to play. We played longer than usual until we had to stop when the timers turned off the court lights. I felt ready to play on Saturday, and belatedly and reluctantly apologized to Lori for berating her about signing us up for the tournament.

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With sixteen teams entered in the tournament, we were guaranteed at least two matches, with a maximum of four matches, depending on how many matches we won.

As our first match was at 9:00 AM, we arrived at the high school courts at 8:30 to warm-up before we started. The weather was perfect for tennis; sunny, a slight breeze, temperatures in the 70's. I felt a bit nervous, having never played in a competitive tournament before. I became a bit more nervous when I found out we were the second seed, because of Lori's reputation as a high school player. To her credit, Lori told me to relax and have fun, but there was no doubt she was ready to win some matches.

Our first match was against a husband and wife team, parents of one of the high school team members. Lori and I started slowly, and I made a few errors to begin, but we were younger and better (well, Lori was better) and we won 6-2, 6-2. I breathed a big sigh of relief when we won the final point.

The next match started at 11:30, against another team that won its first match. During warm-ups, I knew our opponents were better than the first team we played. Once again, Lori told me to just go out and play, and that helped me relax a bit. They were better opponents, but at some point I realized being challenged by better players was fun, even though points were harder to win. The match was tighter, but we won the key points and the match, 6-3, 6-3, advancing to the semi-finals.

Lori, because of her history of playing in tons of youth tournaments, was a lot more comfortable with the rhythm of play, sit, play. We drove to a nearby deli for lunch and Lori talked a bit of strategy, but also said I was playing pretty well. She then added, "Thanks for playing. This brings back memories. When I was young I was so focused on winning I never considered it to be fun. But this IS fun." Then she smiled and added, "But I still want to win!"

Our semi-final was in the early afternoon and was tight throughout, but we managed to finish strong and win 7-5, 7-5. We were happy and in the finals, to be played under the lights at 7 PM. I went home and tried to rest and relax. I also called my parents to let them know I was playing in the finals. They were happy for me and said they would see me at the courts.

Match time finally arrived and my nerves were going crazy. We were playing on the main court and there were fifty to sixty spectators watching from the bleachers. Lori just told me to smile and breathe and enjoy, but the advice wasn't working.

The first set was like I had never played before. I hit balls everywhere, into the net, long, wide. Our opponents saw that I was struggling and aimed most of their returns at me. Before long, we lost the first set 1-6.

During the changeover break after the first set I apologized to Lori for playing so badly. She just answered: "There are two rules of tennis. One, never give up. Two, never assume anything." Then she looked me in the eye and said "Just go play."

And I did.

I'm not sure what happened. All of a sudden everything slowed down and the tennis ball looked like a beach ball. I was in the proverbial "zone." I couldn't miss. Our opponents kept returning the ball to me, but I made shot after shot. Between points I paced like a caged tiger, ready for the next point. It was unreal.

The next thing I knew Lori and I were high-fiving and the match was over. We shook hands with our opponents at the net and they congratulated us on the win. I am sure they were wondering what happened--because I was wondering what happened.