Page 62 of Love From Left Field (Knights of Passion)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“What happened tothe Knights? It’s a like a light switch flipped off. Their bats are silent. Pitching is wild. And they’re booting more than they’re catching! I guess this is exactly as the fans feared. The Knights just overreached their talent level, now they’re on a downward plunge to the cellar. Can anything turn them around?”

*

Miranda idly listenedto the sports talk show on her way to lunch with her mother. She flipped the power off and rested her head on the steering wheel, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her.

In the past two weeks, the team had gone on a losing streak, a remembrance of seasons past. The locker room was quiet, the players deflated. Several keys players were on the trading block, contributing to the low morale. Although there had been no real takers, no major player ready to be dealt. Of course it was just the end of May. Every team still felt like they had a chance and the trading block was quiet.

The office itself was as quiet as a morgue. Seamus was back almost full time and on a tear. The more the team lost, the more irate he became, and the more changes he tried to make. And he could not afford the stress in his life. Miranda ran interference as much as possible, trying to convince her father to see things another way, but it only led to a wedge between her and Seamus. More often than not, she spent nights alone, sleepless, worrying about everything– her father, the team, her relationship with Lucas. She was getting worn out and couldn’t handle all of the stress much longer.

She swerved into a parking space along the street and headed to the restaurant. Her mother was already there, looking almost as tired as Miranda felt. They embraced and sat down. After ordering and idle chit-chat, her mother got down to her point.

“Miranda, this can’t continue. Your father’s health can’t take the stress he’s putting himself under.”

Miranda heaved a sigh of frustration. “Mom, he’s a grown man. No one can tell him what to do, least of all me. Not only am I his daughter but his employee.” Her words were bitter but she was too tired and beaten down to put on a happy face.

“I know, dear. You can’t keep on being torn this way either. Something has to give. Your father met with the doctor yesterday. Fortunately, I went, too, against his wishes. His doctor ordered him to either stop working or limit his workload, or he’ll have another heart attack, more serious than one he already had.”

Miranda stared at her, but couldn’t muster any emotion beyond resignation. “What more do you want me to do? He won’t let me take on any work at the office, saying I ruined the team. He won’t leave the office half day. Only he can make this decision.”

Her mother grasped her hand and squeezed it. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you and he’s a difficult man. But we have to try. Maybe Lucas…”

Miranda burst out laughing. “Have you heard Dad on the subject of Lucas? No, Dad would do the exact opposite of anything Lucas says. I’ll talk to him, but I’m not holding my breath.”

The waiter brought their salads and Gwen let go of her hand. “That’s all I ask.”

“You’re asking the impossible, Mom,” Miranda stated flatly, not willing to hide the truth from her mother any longer. “Dad’s not only under stress but he’s not making good decisions. He’s always been difficult in the office, a challenge to work for on good days. But now, he’s completely unreasonable and I can’t understand why. He’s not listening to his advisers and he is stubbornly ignoring evidence that he doesn’t like.”

Gwen looked troubled, her blue eyes clouded. “Miranda, your father has just gone through a very scary ordeal. He’s being forced to face his own mortality. He feels out of control, as if all of his decisions, his very life, is dictated by someone else. He’s never been very good at letting go of the reins.”

Miranda made a sound of frustration. “I understand that, Mom. But this is beyond just control. He’s destroying the team. I’m trying to run interference but, honestly, I can’t do it anymore. And I’m not sure I want to.”

Gwen reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Your father was always proud that you wanted to work with him at the stadium. He loved that he had a legacy to leave you, something you wanted, too.”

“If he keeps going the way he is, there won’t be anything to leave me or anyone else,” she replied, bitterness not covered by the sweet Georgia tea she drank.

Gwen folded her napkin in her lap. “Well, just keep working with him and take on as much as you can.”

“He won’t go for it.”

“You’ll find a way. You have to.” She took a bite of her salad, the conversation over.

*

Miranda perched onthe edge of the chair, feeling like she was on pins and needles. Judging by the uncomfortable looks everyone else was sharing around the conference room, she wasn’t alone. Seamus stormed in, looking grumpier than usual, which was saying much. He glared at each person as he sat at the head of the table.

“Sam, what’s going on? These guys act like they’ve never played ball!” Seamus growled at the manager. “We need to shake them up.”

“I think that’s actually the problem,” Lucas interjected, the calm part of the hurricane that swirled around all of them. “We’ve put players on the block, announcing that we don’t want them. Then we can’t trade them. What message is that sending?”

“That they should straighten up,” Seamus said.

“No, that tells them that they’re not valued. Who wants to play where no one wants them?” Lucas stated. “Mr. Callahan, we need to back off and return to what was working.”

“It wasn’t working,” Seamus pounded a fist on the table. “I told you that we needed more talent and we didn’t have enough. They were bound to start losing.”

“Dad, you need to calm down,” Miranda laid a hand on his arm, murmuring low for only him to hear. “Remember your heart.”

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