Jeff must have decided by now what to do with his life. How hard could it be? He hadn't asked his brother about his finances, but Jeff had to know Kitt would bail him out if he was in a fix. Time he could give him. Patience wasn't his strong suit, but he was learning.
A few students from his English class came bustling down the walk, and noisily greeted him. One wadded up some papers into a ball and tossed it at him. Using his book as a racket, he volleyed it back and they laughed.
“Ever thought of a career in tennis?”
“What a concept!”
He picked up the pace as he reached the parking lot, and stopped in his tracks when he spotted his vehicle in the gathering darkness. Fluorescent paint was splattered all over it and shattered glass covered the ground. The tires were slashed, the side mirrors ripped off, and the doors jammed and dented. Underneath the crumpled hood the radiator had been torn out and the battery lay loose on top of the smashed engine, acid spilled all over it. Inside, the upholstery was shredded and stained by an oily substance, the steering wheel twisted and bent. A piece of paper was stuck to what was left of the battered dashboard. Play or die, it said.
He stood for a few moments, stunned. Who'd care enough to take such a chance? Who even knew his car, or where it was parked? A student? A deranged fan? Could anybody seriously think this would make him return to the tour?
From his cell phone he called security. An officer surveyed the damage.
“Threats?”
“Why should anyone threaten me?”
“You tell me. Aren't you the tennis player who pulled out a little while ago?”
“Yes.”
The security officer walked around the jeep another time, then looked at Kitt.
“Might be some people with a stake in your matches. When there's money involved—”
“I was with the ATP tour, not the Mafia.”
That evening, he briefly let his thoughts drift. He wasn't the first prominent athlete who'd got threatened and nothing usually came of it. No use getting worked up over it. School was great. So Jeff wasn't happy. He'd get over it. He shook it off and walked out to the deck. Thor jumped up expectantly, and Kitt couldn't help laughing at him. Subtlety was not for Thor, and there was no question in what direction the pup's mind went. Kitt scratched him behind the ears, and threw the ball a few times, then gave in to Thor's pleading eyes.
“Okay, boy, we'll go take a little run.”
For the first part of the hike he trained the pup on leash, then let him run ahead. They circled a lake, then ran uphill and back in the direction of the city. Almost accidentally, they reached an exclusive subdivision that clung to the wooded foothills. Far-spaced custom mansions in spectacular, seminatural settings lined the road. He turned into a dead-end street that led to a large, sheltered plateau. Set far back from the road was Jeff's house. He stared at it for a while. Finally, he shrugged and jogged up the long, circular driveway and around the house to the back terrace.
The children waved at him from a window and he waved back.
“Stay,” he told the young dog, who obediently dropped to his belly. His eyes didn't leave Kitt's face.
“I won't be long, Thor,” he promised.
Jeff wasn't home, and the little ones were in their pyjamas, watching a Disney video. He looked around.
“Kari not here?”
Laura shrugged. “She's doing homework.”
For a while, he played with the little ones, then helped Laura put them to bed. As she shut Lita's bedroom door he gestured toward Kari's room.
“Okay if I say hello?”
“She may bite your head off. She's in a mood.”
He knocked, and it seemed to take forever before the door opened a crack.
“Kari? Just dropping by to say hello.”
“Hi, Uncle Kitt.”
“Thor's outside; wanna go see him a minute?”
“Okay.”
“Put on a sweater. It's chilly out there.”
She took a light jacket off the hook in the back hallway, and followed him out on the terrace. Thor was lying where he had left him, and sat up happily when they came through the patio doors.
“Come here, boy!”
The dog lunged at them, and he brought a smile to Kari's face. She knelt down by him, and threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you, Thor. Wish you were my dog.”
They sat on the top steps, Thor between them. With her arm around the dog and her face pressed against his fur, Kari seemed a little more relaxed, but she didn't say much, and Kitt couldn't help remembering the bubbly, happy little girl of only a few months ago. The joys of adolescence. Good thing he'd skipped his. Hard to believe she was about the age he'd been when Mom and Dad died. Had he been this moody? Kari was the little girl with sunshine in her eyes, the never-sit-still dynamo who didn't slow down enough to take a breath. Was she angry at him too?
Laura came out on the terrace, shivering in the cool air.
“Time for bed, Kari. Tell Uncle Kitt good night.”
To his surprise, she didn't argue the point but hugged Thor and rose.
“Night, Uncle Kitt,” she said over her shoulder.
“Night, Kari.”
When she was gone he raised his eyebrows at Laura.
“What's her problem? I thought she was moody when I took her for ice cream the other night, but I figured she was just having a bad day. Something going on here?”
“Just preteen orneriness.”
“You dreading the teenage years?”
“I wasn't,“ she replied, and he noted the hostility. “But now, with all the stress— things have been pretty difficult since you quit.”
Why not global warming and droughts in Africa.
“Not passing up any chances, are you, Laura.”
“All these years Jeff has knocked himself out to build your career, dropped everything so you could rake in the money, so you could be number one. Then you toss him aside like last year's suit and you don't understand why things are a mess?”
Her vehemence startled him, but he controlled himself.
“Oh, drop it. I'm not Jeff's only source of income. And if he never does another lick of work in his life, he should be able to live the rest of his days in luxury. Why the bankruptcy act?”
“He's a total mess. The kids are upset because they don't know what's going to happen. You think what you paid him is just gravy, don't you? You have no idea of the expenses and—”
He interrupted her sharply.
““If this is about money, Laura, I feel a whole lot better. I've brought in enough cash so you can live happily ever after. And Jeff got most of it. So don't tell me he can't afford to kick back for a while and pick himself some new clients. They'd come running if he whistled.”
“You know nothing about business, Kitt. Leave it to Jeff.”
“I'm beginning to wonder how much he knows about business.”
“If you'd given him a couple years’ notice,” she said, “so he could have made his plans. You owed him that much. He had no warning.”
Kitt frowned irritably.
“He had plenty. He just wasn't listening. I talked to him about it often enough.”
“You were a kid! You talked about becoming this, becoming that, quitting the tour, what have you. He didn't know you meant that. We raised you and made sacrifices for you and Jeff has worked his butt off for you. And this is his thanks. Sorry, you're out of a job. Sign up for unemployment. Sell the house. Whatever.”
Did he owe everybody? The reporters and the soft drink companies and the shoe manufacturers and the pro tour and the fans and his former entourage and his family and tennis itself? Whose life was this?
He turned at the door.
“I may not have been tactful, Laura, but I'm getting mighty tired of being treated as if I committed high treason.”
When Jeff called the next morning Kitt was in no mood for another family squabble. “Save it,” he told his brother. “I�
��ve had it with the see-what-you've-done-to-me crap. You and I will get together to get the money straightened out, and everybody can go do their own thing. I have a test today and I don't want to deal with it.”
“Hold it, hold it,” Jeff's voice was soothing. “I'm sorry Laura gave you a hard time. I didn't call to bug you. Just want to have lunch and show you some stuff. What's your day like?”
“Show me what stuff?” he asked suspiciously.
“Nothing big. Just some business details. If you can't make it today, we can do it tomorrow. Just lunch. I don't like what's going on between us. I thought we'd kind of put things right.”
“Okay. I'm off between one o'clock and two-thirty. Meet you at Tracy's?” Jeff seemed to be switching moods like a tennis ball changed directions. Maybe they could begin to get back on track.
Between classes he had a meeting with his academic advisor, who pointed with a smile at a stack of records.
“You seem to be coming along very well, Kitt. Some committee people were nervous about admitting you. Your credentials weren't convincing.”
“Don't tell me the Slams did it.”
The advisor chuckled and shook his head.
“They didn't hurt. But someone on the committee pointed out that your success couldn't be due to talent alone. It shows drive, work ethic, commitment, stamina. We felt if you were to apply that focus to your academic career, you'd do well here.”
To vent his energies he took a run down the long, grassy hill, sprinting around the giant parking lot and the buildings scattered along the perimeter of the sprawling campus. In a grassy area near the sports complex he flung his book bag on the grass, stretched out to his full six feet six, and stared at the blue, cloud-streaked skies. He felt like he'd swallowed the sun, moon, and stars and he'd never come back to earth.
At Tracy's he scanned the crowd, spotted Jeff coming in the opposite door and held up his hand. Jeff nodded, and they met in the middle of the restaurant.
“This table okay?”
Jeff surveyed the surroundings and shook his head.
“Let's sit somewhere more private. Over in the booths.”
It sounded ominous, and Kitt glanced warily at the heavy briefcase.
For the next half hour Jeff talked casually about a movie he had seen and some remodeling they were planning to do, about the kids, and even about Thor. Kitt relaxed. They were still feeling each other out, but not like it had been. Jeff seemed almost like he used to be. Busy. On the go. The tension seemed to be letting up. It was almost comfortable, like before. He talked a little about school and about his classes, and Jeff nodded and asked how he felt. Kitt was surprised.
“I am fine. Why shouldn't I be?”
“Oh, just wondering. You know, after all the years of conditioning and all that. Thought you might be getting out of shape.”
“Just because I'm not a pro anymore I'm not letting it all go. I work out every day.”
“But it's not the same.”
“Of course not. But I won't let myself turn into a mass of flab, if that's what you're worried about.”
“Think you could still beat MacMillan or Zeller?”
“Sure. I've been away a couple of months is all. Been out longer with injuries. A little training, maybe.”
“Bet you couldn't.”
He shrugged.
“It's academic. I'm not going to be playing them any time soon, so what does it matter?”
“Couple of guys asked me if I thought you could lick any of the top players after several months out. Of course, I lied. Told them you could do it with a broken racket. They were willing to put up some real money to see you try.”
Kit shook his head, smiling.
“No way. Haven't got the time for it. Up to my ears in tests and studies.”
“I've got some cash riding on it.”
“Hope you didn't bet the ranch. There's no way I can do it in the near future.”
“People want to see you play. The companies want to see you play. The tour isn't the same without you.”
“Why not? I wasn't the only one who played good tennis. And there should be plenty of excitement with all the fighting over the number one spot and all.”
“Nobody plays like you do.”
“So let them play like they do.”
“There's something else. Every one of your sponsors has called, some of them five or six times. They're offering beefed-up contracts for a comeback. You pick up your racket tomorrow and I'll get you twelve mil for the year by evening. Twenty by the next day. Plus prize money. You can write your own ticket. “
”Not interested.”
“I didn't think I should keep the offers from you. They won't keep coming forever.”
“Okay, so you told me.”
“Kitt, in the past I haven't listened to you enough when you talked to me about your doubts. We all thought it was the fatigue of the pro player, the doubts every young man has about life. I was caught up in your career, and I didn't listen to the kid behind the career. I'm sorry.”
“It's behind us.”
“But I should've listened. You've thrown your career away because I was too distracted by business to pay attention. But we can start over.”
“I didn't quit out of rebellion, Jeff.”
“But look at the possibilities. To tell you the truth, I wasn't at all sure that the sponsors would be back. They like you. They're not just willing, they're eager to shell out the money.”
”Money is not an issue.”
“It may be. I told you before that some investments turned sour on us, so the extra cash could help get us back to where we were. That would help you and it would help my family.”
“Are you broke?”
“Of course not. But we've had some nasty losses. You're in a position to make us whole.”
“Exactly how much money have we lost?”
“Nothing we can't recoup. Don't worry about it. It's just that—”
“How much?”
“I really don't know offhand. Haven't got the records memorized. These things fluctuate, anyway. I'm just concerned that any money was lost, and I'd like to get it back. If we had an extra ten, twenty mil to put to work, we'd be fine. Then the next year we'd do the same and it'd be as if nothing happened.”
“Are you saying the loss is in the neighborhood of twenty million?”
“I tell you, I don't know. It may be, but I don't know.”
“How did that happen?”
Jeff impatiently shook his head.
“These things are too complicated to explain in just a few minutes. Stock prices fluctuate, and your holdings are quite complex. I'm busting my butt getting it all in order. What I want to get through to you—”
“Is it serious?”
“Not really, but I don't like losing money. You let me worry about that end. All you need to worry about is getting back in championship form, so that—”
“I have no intention of going back. I'm going to school. Get over it.”
“But we could recoup everything with contracts like this.”
“By my reckoning, I have earned in the hundreds of millions. Of course, taxes and expenses had to come out of that. But there should be enough left for the rest of my life even if I never made another dime. And you should have plenty. I see no reason to panic.”
“There's no panic. I told you it's under control. What with Kari getting older and college just a few years down the road, it would be a whole lot easier on us if you went back to the tour.”
Kitt's eyes flashed.
“I might have known this sudden desire for harmony was too good to be true.”
“Now what? What have I done?”
“You're so sorry you weren't listening to poor little Kitt with all his doubts and insecurities. Blah, blah, blah. Big brother didn't take him seriously, and look at what he's gone and done all by himself! I won't make that mistake again, oh no! I'm going to babysit him, I'm going to hold his little hand and pat h
im on the back, and get his power of attorney. Heaven forbid that he should get out of the playpen again. You're still not listening to me!”
“Kitt, honestly, I didn't mean to give the impression—”
“Oh, I'm sure you meant to give a virtuous impression. It just didn't come off so well.”
“You've got me totally wrong.”
“Come off it, Jeff! Let's see—we've had the righteous indignation bit. No go. Begging and threatening—that was a bust. The black sheep thing bombed. All this to your little theme song. See-how-you're-hurting-us? And now the family act. You and Laura practice this routine?”
”Kitt, you've got it all wrong. I didn't have any intentions—”
“Cut the crap, will you? What do you guys do at night, have a good laugh over dumb little brother? Let's sweet-talk him a little and watch him come running. Let's see who can get him back on the leash.”
He threw down a few bills.
“I wouldn't want you to overdraw your account.”
The momentum of his new life came from the same single-minded drive that had propelled him to the top of the pro rankings. Hours empty of training routines and minute-to-minute scheduling poured into his wide-open days like spring rain.
Kitt had given what he considered a mop-up interview to a sports channel, and came home irritated. In the mailbox was an unpleasant surprise. The check he'd written for his utility vehicle had bounced. The car purchase had been made from his VISA account, which should have carried a more than adequate CMA balance, and which allowed him, at any rate, to borrow against the portfolio. So this was the next campaign move. Jeff shutting down his accounts, screwing things up to pressure him. Power games. Well, he'd fix that. Jeff could make a life without little brother.
A confrontation with Jeff loomed on the horizon. Like it or not, he'd start taking a more active role in his financial affairs.
Reluctantly, he drove to Jeff's office. Funny that whenever he thought of Jeff upset, his first thought was money. The family was fine. A little shaken up, maybe, nothing big. His health was fine. It always came down to money. The only thing bigger was control. And this time it was a mix. Great. So that's what he thought of Jeff, his only family. Out of loyalty, or maybe because he hadn't had the guts to look at them closely, he'd always overlooked Jeff's negatives.
Break Point Down Page 7
