Page 51 of In a Pickle
“Thank you. Dad, I want to say… I truly admire you so much. And I’m so grateful that you and Mom have allowed me to work for the foundation. But I think the work has prevented me from trying out other jobs, from figuring out what I might want to do. The truth is, I know pickleball isn’t a forever thing. It’s a young person’s game. I don’t think coaching is what I want to do full-time, either. I love it, but I’ve realized recently that I can still keep teaching on the weekends while exploring other jobs.”
“That’s a good, level-headed assessment, son.”
“Thank you. I just want to know I have your support to talk things through — that you will listen to me. That’s all I ask.”
“Well, that’s very reasonable.” His dad sighed again. “I want you to talk to me. I want to listen. I’m your dad. I should be your sounding board. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. It’s my instinct, as you know, to share my opinion. But I’ll try. I’ll try to hear you.”
“Thank you.” James felt like a broken record, but he was shocked by this conversation, the tenor of which was unlike all of his previous conversations with his father.
“So just to be clear… was that a no on working for Don specifically, or a no on real estate in general? Would you want to work with me instead?”
James had to laugh. “Let’s just end this conversation here, Dad. We’ve made a lot of progress. I don’t want to talkabout working for you right now. Remember, I’ve just quit the foundation.”
“I was hoping you would reconsider that, too. I know you said it in the heat of the moment.”
“No, actually. I had been thinking about it for some time. I really want to go out on my own for a while. I know it’s a privilege and a luxury to have these jobs lined up for me. But I just feel like I’ve been on… I guess a pre-ordained path for my whole life, starting with tennis and then with the foundation. I think I need to figure out my career for myself.”
His dad clapped him on the back. Peter was never one for physical affection, so James was not surprised he didn’t get a hug. “I’m proud of you, son. Also, on a different note, is your girlfriend Jewish?”
James groaned. Of course his dad couldn’t resist being his meddling self. “Oh God. Just when I thought we were making progress on you not telling me what to do!”
“No, no,” Peter said. “That came out wrong. I’m not trying to get between you two. I was only wondering if I could invite her to our Seder for Passover next week.”
Just when James thought he couldn’t be more surprised, his dad had dropped another bombshell. The Alonso Passover holiday Seder meals were legendary, led by the patriarch of the family, James’ grandfather, who held court over a long table of dozens of influential Miami Jews and other guests. To receive an invitation was an exclusive honor. Even the McMahons had never been invited.
“Dad,” James said evenly. “You’ve brought me up in the ways of the Torah. You know it’s a mitzvah to share Passover with everyone, including non-Jews.”
“You’re right,” his dad said. “I’ll invite her either way.”
James smiled. “That’s great. Oh, and I was just trying to make you sweat a little. She is Jewish.”
His dad’s eyes crinkled in mirth. “Well, that’s good. It doesn’t matter either way, but it’s better that she’s Jewish.”
James rolled his eyes. “Sure, Dad.”
“Now, I do believe you and Liana were having a little tiff. Whatever you did, you’d better go make things right with her.”
“How do you know it’s my fault?”
“You think a father doesn’t know these things? Besides, in a relationship, the woman is always right.”
“For the record, it’s the 21st century. We don’t just say ‘yes, dear’ anymore. A woman can be in the wrong. But in this particular case it is, in fact, my fault.” James grimaced. “I do have some apologizing to do.”
Peter nodded solemnly. “Go get her, son.”
Chapter 32: Liana
At Mary Grace’s insistence, Liana was wearing Mary Grace’s oversized Fendi sunglasses as the two women sat under an umbrella at the PHCC cafe. Brock had left ten minutes before with two security guards not-so-subtly escorting him to his car. Mary Grace had watched him go without a word.
Now the two women sat sipping their drinks: a prosecco for Mary Grace, an iced decaf Americano for Liana. Finally, Liana asked the question she’d been wondering all day: “I’m sorry if this is a rude question, but I feel like there’s no other way to ask. How the fuck did you put up with Brock for so long?”
Mary Grace let out a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I had that one coming. I guess honesty is our thing today, right?”
“Yep.”
Mary Grace took a long gulp of her prosecco. Without looking at Liana, she said, “I wanted the social media followers. I knew he treated me horribly. I knew the things he said about me. But I put up with him for the fame. The first time I met him was at a party with James a couple of years ago. He got me to do this dumb dance with him and posted it on TikTok. I woke up with ten thousand more followers — no joke.”
“Tenthousandovernight?”