Disclaimer -- All characters are 18 or older.
Author's note -- This story was written in collaboration with Diana R.
******
"Good shot!" I called out as another ball whizzed by.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? My husband's nephew, Will, was in town for spring break week with his mother, my sister in law, Carol. He was a freshman at a small university on a tennis scholarship, and he wanted to keep his ground strokes sharp while away from school, so I had promised to dust off my old racket and try to give him some practice.
"Good backhand!" I shouted as a two-hander screamed past.
I warned my sister-in-law I hardly played anymore, but she had insisted I needed to practice with him, otherwise, he wouldn't come out to visit. They lived hours away and had not been to visit in over 5 years. I was surprised when I saw Will; he had filled out nicely in those 5 years, and now he was a strapping 6'1" and a lean 160 pounds.
Still, I'm not sure what I was thinking trying to keep up with an 18-year-old on the tennis court. I'm a 53-year-old woman, and, even though I've worked hard to maintain my 36C-29-35 figure, I'm still not in the kind of shape to go toe to toe against a collegiate athlete.
I finally relented after my sister guilt tripped me into promising to practice against Will. "You just need to hit baseline with him," she insisted. "You know, I never played, but you're a good player." Correction, I was a good player. But that was a while ago now, and I can tell that Will is toying with me, hitting easy ground strokes back up the middle till he gets bored, and then he blasts one or two to the corners that I hopelessly can't catch up to.
"That was great, Aunt Diana," Will said as we wrapped up the hitting session. "Thanks for practicing with me. I want to keep my strokes sharp. The season starts in two weeks."
I laughed. "I'm not sure how much practice I actually gave you. It seemed like I was barely able to keep up with you out there."
"You did fine. You got the ball back, and that's all that matters. I can tell, you're just a little rusty. With a little extra practice, your shots would be cleaner, and you'd be hitting a bunch of winners."
"Now you're just being kind to an old lady."
"It's true. Besides, you look good out there."
"You're a terrible liar," I deadpanned.
I finished packing up my tennis gear and then we headed to my SUV for the ride back to the house.
"So how is college treating you?" I asked on the ride back.
"It's been a big change. It's my first time away from home. It's hard starting over, not knowing anyone, but I'm making friends."
"Any girlfriends?" I wondered.
"I had my high school girlfriend, but she went to a different school, and doing a long-distance relationship was just too hard. We just broke up last month," he said sadly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you date for a long time?"
"3 years," he replied.
"That's a long time. Are you doing ok?"
"Some days are better than others," he admitted.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, trying to comfort him.
"I've been pouring myself into tennis more than usual to take my mind off it," Will confessed. "That's why I really appreciate you taking time this week to help me practice."
"It's my pleasure. As long as you don't mind being with an old lady."
"You're not old, Aunt Diana. Honestly, your legs and that short skirt were kind of a distraction at times."
"I need every advantage on the court I can get when I'm hitting with you," I laughed. Truth be told I was flattered. I hardly play tennis anymore, but when I do, I like to wear the old school women's short tennis skirts. Partly because it's easier to maneuver around the court in a skirt that never gets in your way, but also because I've worked hard to maintain my figure, and I like to show it off a little when I get the chance. Today I wore it out of habit, not thinking I'd catch the eye of my own nephew, but it seems that may have been the case.
*****
We got home, and I cooked dinner. It ended up being Will, Carol and myself for dinner. My husband was working late at the office, which seems to happen more often recently. Either he's working late or he's out of town on business, but the results are the same, either way; he's rarely home. So, I played the role of hostess for our family house guests, and we all enjoyed lively conversation and catching up on our lives. Carol and Will had made the time and effort to visit us, so I took the week off from work, although my husband declined to take any time-off, so that left me to entertain them.
I sneaked glances at Will and couldn't help admiring how he had grown into a good looking and strong young man. Carol is a lovely woman, but she's something of a blowhard, and Will and I exchanged knowing glances behind her back while she droned on.