Break Point Down Read online

  “That's nothing new. It's not like she has choices.”

  “You're doing a very good job, and you're looking for help. That's a big plus. You're not convinced you have all the answers. Many experienced parents don't do as well. But I don't like to see you tied down to this situation.”

  “I tied myself down. I'm not backing out now.”

  “Kari may do better with you than with her mother. But if her mother could be made to understand—”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Let me think this over for a few days, Kitt.”

  “I have learned a lot of stuff this past year. Laura's not evil. Jeff isn't even evil. They don't set out to hurt anyone, but hurting someone, anyone, will never keep them from getting what they want.”

  “And you think she'd dump Kari.”

  “She already has. All she wants now is to wrap things up and get on with her future.”

  “What about the other children?”

  “Too young to give her any trouble. Happy when Mom's happy. No problems the babysitter can't solve. And another thing. You weren't there. You didn't see Kari's panic when she thought I'd left her, too. What I saw that night—well, it was stark terror. I can't leave her.”

  “Let me think about this, Kitt. If Kari agrees to this arrangement, you and I will sit down and see if we can't work out a game plan. “

  ”Thank you. I need one.”

  One look at Kari's stricken face as she returned from her visit with Laura told Kitt all he needed to know. She went straight to her room and didn't come out till late that night. He was sitting at the piano, his head bent.

  “Did you know what Mom had to say?”

  He looked up.

  “Yes. She wanted to be the one to tell you.”

  “You know she's marrying that old man?”

  “She told me. I think he's about sixty-seven.”

  “He must be rich.”

  Thirteen, and all that innocence gone.

  “Very.”

  “He used to come to our house. He was supposed to be Dad's friend.”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “She doesn't want me back.”

  He didn't know what to say.

  “She says Henry will pay you to take care of me. Or I can go to a boarding school.”

  He chose his words carefully.

  “I am not being macho, you must understand that. But if you and I are going to make a go of it, I can't be a paid babysitter. If you choose to have me be your guardian, I'd try to be maybe something between a father and a big brother. Not a hired gun.”

  “But you didn't expect to be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

  He held up a hand.

  “I'm not stuck. I could have walked away. Oh, I know, when I pulled out of the tour I was going to find myself. But I'm getting smarter as I go along. This crap of finding yourself sounds cool, but it's a stupid way to live. You find out what you believe. Then you live by that.”

  “So what should I do?”

  “We've got a lot to learn to make this work, but I think we can do it. So I guess what you need to do is decide if you want to.”

  She got up and walked around the room.

  “You've lost a lot, Kari. It's not fair that you have to make choices like this. But that's what you've got on your plate, fair or not.”

  She rubbed her eyes.

  “She's forcing you to take me.”

  “Nobody can force me. I could have said no.”

  “Why didn't you?”

  “I like bossing you.”

  “Is it because you don't want me in a foster home?”

  “It's not because of what I don't want. It's because of what I do want. You know I care a lot about you. I'll do the best I can—just meet me halfway. Whatever we can make work.”

  She sat at the table, laid her head on her arms and sobbed. He pulled up a chair beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, stroking her curly brown hair. After a while she turned to look at him. He held out his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder and cried till she had no tears left. In the end she was quiet, except for an occasional sob.

  “I wish you were my dad, Uncle Kitt.”

  “Me too.”

  It was surprising how easy it was to give a kid away. He studied the brief statement that conferred guardianship of Kari on him. With both parents agreeing to it, it had come down to a simple legal document.

  He had refused Henry's offer of a monthly stipend for Kari's support, and told Laura that if she wanted to do something for Kari she could put it in a trust fund for Kari's education. Their short meeting at the attorney's office had been cool and awkward, as though they had never been family. After the papers were signed, the lawyer left them alone for a few minutes of private conversation.

  “Are you planning to see her?” Kitt asked skeptically.

  “Of course. I am her mother.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We'll be gone for several months, of course, but I would like to be kept informed of her progress. We'll keep in touch.”

  “I will leave that between you two. As far as I am concerned, Kari can see you any time she wants. She needs to keep contact with Lita and Tony. She misses them.”

  “We'll see to that.”

  “Okay. I guess we have nothing more to talk about.”

  “Just one more thing, Kitt. The wedding is a very private affair. You understand, under the circumstances—”

  “Too private to have your daughter there?”

  “It's adults only.”

  “Of course.”

  “I didn't want to offend you, Kitt, but it would be a little awkward—”

  “Oh, not at all. Saves me the price of a wedding present.”

  “Really, Kitt.”

  “Sorry. It would be awkward for me, too. Don't worry about it.”

  “Good luck, Kitt. We'll be in touch.”

  “Goodbye, Laura.”

  Jeff was in a mean mood when he saw him next.

  “So my best friend has my wife and my brother has my daughter. I wonder who's standing in line for my carcass. It's a great life.”

  “You've got to keep in touch with the kids,” he told his brother. “And you know what you need to do about Kari.”

  “Yeah right. Another few years in prison and she'll be happy.”

  “Write to her. Go into therapy. They have programs right here. Show her you're serious about changing.”

  “Spare me the touchy-feely crap.”

  “I'm seeing a counselor myself. For Kari. And I go to meetings with parents of problem teenagers. Sort of a support group. It doesn't solve everything, but it helps. Gives me some ideas.”

  “Going to be superdad, of course.”

  He shrugged.

  “Kari's got no time to have me mess this one up.”

  “At least you have options. I can just sit here and rot.”

  If this was going to be another woe-me session, he'd just as soon go home. Jeff wallowing in self-pity was not a great spectator sport, and he was half out of his chair when his brother stopped him.

  “Heard from Wynne lately?”

  “Why should I? I'm not seeing her.”

  “You think.”

  He sat back down.

  “Meaning?”

  “Oh, I just think we've both kind of bombed with women.”

  “Wynne and I have never been serious.”

  “You haven't. She has.”

  “We had it out, we said our goodbyes, and that's that. We've had no contact, and I don't expect to.”

  “Oh, you have. You just don't know about it.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  Jeff seemed to enjoy Kitt's irritation. There was a brief flicker in his eyes and Kitt saw it. What is he up to now? I hate it when he gets this look.

  “Wynne wants you to play pro tennis.”

  “I hope you didn't think that was news.”

  Jeff smiled.

  “Yo
u may not know Wynne as well as you think. She liked your fame, your money, and she really likes your body. She wants them all, and she doesn't like losing.”

  “So Wynne wants to run my life. What else is new?”

  “Did you ever wonder what happened with the scholarship you were promised? And the Buser grant?”

  “I didn't measure up. I checked back, but they'd given out all the grant money.”

  “But you'd been awarded the grants. What did they tell you?”

  “No appeals possible. Some candidates were more qualified. That kind of stuff.”

  “The university gets federal grants—it has to be an open process. Did you look into their records?”

  “No. I didn't know you could. What good would that have done?”

  “Do you know who's the chairman of the board of directors at Buser?”

  “No idea.”

  “A major donor to several Ivy League schools. Including Montrado U. Walter Lloyd-Rutgers.”

  Kitt whistled.

  “Wynne's daddy has his fingers in many pies. Wynne batted her eyelashes at Daddy, and he blitzed you.”

  “But why?”

  “Because she wants you to fail. Force you back into tennis.”

  “The scholarship wouldn't have done that.”

  ”No. But she knew other things were going wrong.”

  “And how did she know that?”

  “Some of it straight from you. And she has connections.”

  He was silent, deep in thought. Lately Jeff had been paranoid. Conspiracies everywhere. Fact or fancy? Did he have specific information? That eager look in Jeff's eye hadn't escaped him. He'd seen it there before when Jeff was playing a trump card.

  “How do you know any of this?”

  “She told me.”

  “Why should she want you to know?”

  “She wanted me to help sabotage your life.”

  “And did you?”

  “I may have goofed up, but I wouldn't stab my own brother in the back.”

  “Sorry.”

  “This may come as a shock, but I'm proud of how you're getting going, tennis or not. I didn't take Wynne seriously till you told me about the scholarships. I wouldn't have messed you up on purpose, you know that.”

  For a long time Kitt sat and said nothing. Was this Wynne refusing to concede defeat, or Jeff clinging to a pathetic bit of power? See, Kitt, I am still more savvy than you. You need big brother to tell you. You need me, Kitt. You always will.

  “I've always done what I could for you, Kitt. You know I have. I sold things, I went without so you could go to the academies. And when things started humming I was still there for you. Every mistake I made was made trying to do what was best for you.”

  If Jeff didn't quit whining now, he'd slap him down.

  The grayness of the place started to weigh down on him, and he got to his feet.

  “See you later.”

  He hobbled to the bus on his crutches, and the grayness followed him outside and dulled myriads of tiny gems reflecting the sun's brilliance from the city's winter coat.

  At Linda's suggestion they sat down and wrote up a contract of sorts. Kitt called it the New Deal and chewed her out when she didn't understand.

  “You never hear of Roosevelt? Don't you learn anything in that school?”

  “You didn't even go to school.”

  “I made up for it. So where's your list?”

  They took turns writing down commitments, from the fundamental to details. Kitt would provide food, shelter, general care, the basics. Kari would help out around the house and be in school when she was supposed to be. Kitt would give her an allowance and Kari would observe her curfew. Kitt promised to discuss and negotiate rules, and Kari would obey them. They set goals and compromised on a few items such as makeup and dress.

  Then the big one.

  “I will quit bugging you about counseling, if you will try it for one month, twice a week.”

  “No fair.”

  “Why? Anybody can do it for a month. Eight times.”

  She walked around the room, and he was afraid he'd blown it. It was a calculated gamble, and he'd turned it over and over in his mind. A lot of the rapport they had gained was on the line, but he'd always played the high-risk game.

  Finally she sat down.

  “One month.”

  “Okay.”

  “And no promises. If I don't want to make any reports, I don't.”

  “No pressure. Just see Linda. You will like her.”

  “I doubt it.”

  But she went, and when Kitt anxiously scanned her face when he picked her up, he was relieved to see that she did not seem to be angry. She didn't talk about her session, and he had promised not to ask, but she seemed sad. He noticed she penciled in another appointment on the calendar.

  When Kari came home from school she looked around in amazement.

  “What happened to the piano?”

  “Sold it.”

  “You sold it? You sold the Steinway? I can't believe you did that!”

  “Needed the cash.”

  “But you loved that thing! You're always sitting there, playing old stuff—”

  “No big deal. I probably spent too much time with it anyway. Right now we need money worse than we need a piano. Besides, it was way too big for this room.”

  Sometimes he almost regretted not accepting the offer of support money for Kari, but not for long. Losing out on the appearance fee for the exhibition match had made up his mind on the piano. Another six months was too long to wait for money. The tennis clinics would be over before Christmas. As it was, he couldn't do a whole lot on his crutches.

  “I forgot to tell you. Somebody called from the university this morning. Something about the tennis clinics.”

  A call to the Athletic Department had more bad news. Because of his injury, further tennis clinics would be canceled. They might start some up again in the spring, but they would assess that later. He'd be paid for the hours he had already put in.

  Are we having fun yet? Somebody up there didn't want him to make a living. He made an effort not to show his irritation to Kari, but she knew something was wrong.

  “A guy at my school has a real neat keyboard,” she told him. “It's like an expensive one and he's selling it for just a hundred and fifty. If you wanted to buy it maybe I could get him down to a hundred or so.”

  He didn't miss her effort at cheering him up. She's thinking about someone besides herself. That's good. Aloud, he said, “It's a thought. But I probably should be concentrating on studying and finding a job. Maybe later.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you want me to try.”

  After she'd gone to bed, he sat by his desk, feeling down.

  A keyboard. A stupid tin can, jangling, barking, meowing keyboard. Appassionata on a keyboard. That's what I'm turning into. A keyboard instead of a Steinway

  He was shocked when a few weeks later she raised the subject of Jeff. Could she go with him next time he went?

  “You're sure?”

  She nodded.

  Was it only six weeks short of a year ago that she had come to his door, nearly a year since the little girl had huddled in the corner of his big leather sofa and presented him with a picture of pain he had not seen before or since? She was talking, and he could hug her now. Things were better. Nightmares and flashes of panic and anger still came and went, but she was getting control back.

  Was it too soon?

  At the prison, he put it to Jeff.

  “Kari has changed, Jeff. You haven't seen her for a long time. It wasn't easy, but she's out there. She's ready to try.”

  Fists clenched in his pockets, his face contorted, Jeff got up. He paced furiously between the table and the door, assessing his guilt and his escape, thought Kitt, his atonement and his justification, and his relationship with his young daughter.

  Finally, he seemed to calm down. He nodded a couple of times, and Kitt couldn't quite read the expression in h
is eyes.

  “It's okay. Tell her to come in.”

  Something seemed odd, but Kitt could pinpoint nothing specific. He left the room and returned a few minutes later with Kari. She grasped his wrist as they entered, and he knew it took all she had not to run. His first impulse had been to leave the two alone, but now Kari didn't seem ready for that, and he decided to stay and be her backup. She sat down across the table from her father. Jeff's eyes were wells of torment.

  Kitt turned. He couldn't leave her, but these first moments after all this time should be theirs alone. There were a few awkward, stumbling words, and then nothing again. The numbness, Kitt thought, the numbness Jeff had talked about before, the deadening of his senses—that's what he must be banking on. Everything else about this visit tapped into the hidden hell of his existence.

  Kari glanced back at him, and he took a few steps forward, then sat down at her side of the table, his eyes full of compassion. He put a hand on Kari's, then reached out and touched Jeff's arm.

  “Have you two had enough time for today?”

  Both nodded, speechless.

  “All right.” Kitt rose, and nodded for Kari to follow his lead. “Jeff, hang in there now. We will be back soon, okay?”

  As they left the room, Kari turned. Jeff stood where she had left him, his shoulders slumped.

  “Dad?”

  She hesitated a moment, then walked back into the room and reached across the table to touch his arm. Startled, he jerked his arm back for an instant. He sat down heavily on the wooden chair.

  “I'm sorry.”

  She was the adult now, not yet fourteen. For so long he'd been her hero, her mentor. The torment of the past lifted for a few brief moments as she borrowed and drew from the forgiveness of her coming adulthood.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  Uncomprehending, he looked up at her.

  She touched his hand for a moment, then turned and quickly left the room.

  Outside the prison Kitt looked at her curiously, and she met his stare with a sad nod.

  “You were right. He is different.”

  It was a breakthrough, this visit. The only Jeff Kari knew was the father who had turned into her tormentor. She had not watched his personality decompose, week to week, month to month.

  They drove away, and for the first few miles few words were exchanged.

  “I wonder if I lied to him,” she said at last, seeking reassurance.