The problem is, the last thing I want to do is a photo op. I know when I've looked at them in the paper later, the look in my eyes is that the last place I want to be in the world is taking the photo, which isn't fair to the groups. It's not that I don't appreciate fire fighters, or the Make-A-Wish foundation and what they do, but other than learning the Jacksonville system, I don’t want to be anywhere but home. The rest of the world just seems . . . not worth the trouble or the effort, and it’s too painful to boot.
"You’re turning into a recluse," I mutter to myself as I get into my now-leased Caddy and drive home. In probably the only move that in hindsight surprises me, I went all in on my house, buying a four-bedroom house on the outskirts of Jacksonville, one with a pool, a garage, and plenty of space, all on a full acre of land, which, while not huge compared to what some of the guys have, sets me back a pretty penny. Even if the price of land isn't all that over the top in the Jacksonville area, especially when compared to the current land rush in the Seattle area, a restricted access subdivision and a lakeside lot are pretty expensive.
I know why I did it, though. I had been thinking of Whitney and Laurie when I went with the agent to see the property. I had seen a room for Laurie, and space where I could put up a play set for her. I saw another room that we could use as a home office, and even a spare for a nursery, and a master bedroom that I would be able to share with Whitney. I saw a fantasy, and I let my fantasy guide my decision.
Ah well, at least the price isn't unmanageable. Ironically, my play for the team has led to me making even more money than I was making in Seattle, even after the fines, because I've picked up a few bonuses that the team has in place for good performance. Two interceptions, a touchdown, and once getting League Defensive Player of the Week have more than covered the fines from the front office.
I turn onto the Interstate, leaving the stadium area behind to make the twenty-minute drive to my house. While I'm driving, I get a call on my phone, so I drop it into the slot on the dash of my car to connect it to the in-car system. "Hello?"
"Troy? It's Cory. How are you doing in Florida?"
"I'm okay, Cory. How's San Fran?"
"Much better since the Hawks still suck ass," Cory says with a laugh. "One win. One fucking win, and it's only going to get worse. Now we just have to worry about Arizona."
"Maybe, but don't gloat too much. I still have a lot of friends on that team, remember?"
Cory sobers and clears his throat. "You're right, sorry. Anyway, I wanted to call because there was an actual withdrawal on that account you asked me to set up for Laurie. The fifteen hundred dollars a week account?"
"Yeah, I know which one you're talking about." After Whitney cut me out, I had to go to other means to get the accounts for Laurie set up, so I went through Cory. The account was set up in Laurie's name, but Patricia Nelson was given signatory access to the account. I would’ve told Cory to add Whitney, but she never returned his calls to get the information.
“There was a withdrawal of ten thousand dollars. I wanted to double check the numbers, and it's legit. Anything you want me to do?"
"Is there any sign that the money is being stolen?"
"No, totally legit withdrawal. Whitney herself is on the ATM video taking the money out. Now I know that's technically a violation. I mean the card's in her Mom's name, but you know what I mean."
I nod before I remember that I'm on a phone. My car does have good sound quality. "Okay. Well, keep the money going in, and if the balance drops below five hundred, give me a call. Keep monitoring it. I'm sure Whitney's using it for the right reasons. Patricia wouldn't have passed over the card otherwise."
"All right. Hey, did I tell you? Your patronage has gotten me a promotion. I actually have my own office instead of just a desk now."
"Congrats. How many secretaries have you tried to seduce on that desk so far?"
"Give me time, Troy. Give me time. Hey, personal note, and then I'll let you go. I can hear the car engine and I know cops can be a bitch about talking while driving. I don’t know what the law is there. You're doing okay with everything, like personal wise and stuff?"
"I will be—I'm making it, at least."
"Okay then, I'll let you go. Keep your head up, and keep your eye on the ball. Helps on the tackles, you know."
Cory laughs and hangs up the phone. I think about what he said about the money, and part of me is at least grateful that Whitney is using it. Hell, maybe she’s using it to get Laurie a trip to Disneyland or something. I have faith in her. She's going to use it for the right thing.
I get off the Interstate and onto the smaller streets that lead to my subdivision, my mind tired after a long day of practice. I'm just glad that tomorrow is a day off and that I'll be able to sleep in before getting ready for the next game.