Page 14 of Defensive Indifference

I am not, however, confused by her refusal to accept a guard. No matter how much Spencer tried to convince her it was a good idea, especially for the times we’re on the road, she declined. Katie doesn’t like to be told what to do, especially when she puts her mind to something. That something is pretending nothing in life matters more than her horse, and honestly, besides Spencer and me, that might be true.

When I pull into the lot, Eleanor is already there flipping through that folder of hers. Who knows what she’s got on my lawyer, but I suppose if there’s dirt to be known about him, it’s better for me to know it now rather than later.

“Hello again,” I say, and lock Lottie’s car. Man, I can’t wait until I get my things back. Working hard for something, refusing every penny my father offered so I could call my success my own—thanks to God, of course—only to have it yanked away because my father made poor choices, cuts deeper than I can explain.

I shake my head. There’s no proof of his guilt yet, at least nothing that has been presented to me, that says my father did anything wrong. My patience is thin, and I’m leaping to conclusions about my own family. I need sleep and a fresh perspective, two things that are difficult to get when people won’t leave you alone in search of a good story.

“Good afternoon, Koa.”

Eleanor waits for me to open the door for her before entering Peterson’s office. His receptionist nods and leads us directly to the conference room. Once seated, Peterson opens a folder of his own. It seems like my whole life is bundled up in a bunch of folders handed out to everyone but me.

“There’s not much of an update, I’m afraid, but it does seem we will have a judge who is sympathetic to your concerns and Katie’s. At the very least, she has approved the advocacy group’s petition to have Preakness under their care for the duration of the investigation.”

Relief floods my body so fast I’m nearly faint with it. If nothing else, I’ll be happy that my sister’s horse is safe and sound.

“What happens if they conclude the investigation and find I did nothing wrong? Do I have any restitution for this misery?”

“Unfortunately, no, since there is just cause to assume family money exchanged hands. However, your willingness to cooperate will go a long way toward ending it much faster. Until then, I can ensure you have adequate funding for your mortgage and other necessary bills.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Peterson. My brother has decided to cover expenses for Koa and Katie Keaton for as long as this situation drags on.” She looks at me with a small nod. “We’ll call it a contract renewal benefit, assuming a renewal is what you wish at the end of the season?”

Oh, man. With everything going on, I’d completely forgotten my contract negotiation is set to begin next week. I’m quiet for too long, so Eleanor slides a new contract toward me.

“However, should you choose not to resign, my brother still wishes to help you until you’re established somewhere else.”

The new contract sum is circled in red, and it’s a substantial increase. I’ve certainly upped my game in the past two years, but this is more than unexpected. “I never wanted to play anywhere else. It was never a question.”

“My brother appreciates loyalty. I’ll leave this with Mr. Peterson and send a copy to your agent. In the meantime, here’s a card you can use for expenses.” She hands me the card, the second I’ve received in a few days. I can’t help wondering why everyone is being so kind to me. Because I’m good at baseball? I’m worth something to the team? I make them money?

My thoughts drift back to Evalina, how hard she must work to ensure her son is well cared for, and the mess I made for her. Has anyone ever slid a limitless credit card her way? Surely not.

“Mr. Keaton?” Mr. Peterson’s arched, wiry brow indicates I missed a question somewhere. “Is that agreeable to you?”

“I’m sorry, I missed the question.”

“I was saying I see no need for you to waste your time dropping in every few days. I can call you when I have updates, if you prefer?”

“Oh, yeah, that works. Thank you.” My brain scrambles. How did life turn out like this in a matter of a few days? Me, a stinking rich kid made richer by my athlete status, suddenly taking handouts from people? My thoughts, again, drift toward Evalina’s struggles, but not for long before Eleanor stands.

“We should head to practice and speak with Coach Fuller.”

Pushing out from the desk, I groan. “Yeah, let’s get that fun over with. Incidentally, I have practice in the morning. Will you be attending those with me as well?”

“I’ll be everywhere you go but home. With the exception of your trip to meet Miss Renn this morning, of course.” Eleanor’s sweet smile is truly anything but sweet, but at least there will be someone around to keep me in check and in line for the foreseeable future.

It strikes me that Mr. Peterson didn’t ask anything about Eleanor, which probably means he already knew her. Which, of course, he had to for her to know I had a meeting with him. How does everyone else know my schedule before I do?

I ponder this along with Evalina’s situation all the way to the little league practice field where the Tadpoles learn all of the skills necessary to play baseball. Of course, most of them play for the fun of the game, but some have real talent and could play longer term, well into high school and college, if they wanted to. Some even pro. But the goal has always been to show kids how much fun the game is, how important sportsmanship is, and to respect teammates and other people.

Eleanor drives us there in silence, allowing me to process my entire life. Could my father be everything they say he is? Has he been a liar and a thief all this time? No, I truly do not think so. Frustrating as he can be, my father could never do the things they claim. Not the man who got me into baseball—though he did live to regret that one. Not the guy who attended charity functions like they were his job. Not Dad, who always put his family image first, no matter what. He set high expectations, wanted things for me that weren’t my dream, but he was always fair and upright.

But he’s not here now. And neither is Mom. If not for Spencer, this would be impossible. I try to remember the last time I spoke with my father and realize it’s been almost half a year.

“Here we are. Do you need a moment?” Eleanor unbuckles and pauses with her hand on the door.

“I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”

Pushing out the door, I wait for her to join me before heading to Coach Fuller’s little office. He’s paid a salary to run the team and the field operations so he can focus on the kids. Thankfully, his pay cannot be impacted, thanks to it being a charitable organization under an entirely different company. Mr. Peterson was right on with that suggestion. Keeping the Tadpoles their own entity was the wisest thing he’s told me to do.