The Game Changer The Final Score - By L.M. Trio Page 0,11

it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken of him to her.

“He’s home,” I say bluntly with a sorrowful smile.

She tries to hold back, but her eyes betray her and begin to fill.

“When? Have you seen him?” She manages to choke out while grasping my hand tightly.

I know it tears at her heart to hear his name and I feel for her knowing what she has been through. Even though she doesn’t talk about it, I know it’s upsetting to her that she hasn’t been home to visit David or my Mom and Dad. My Mom and she were close and in some way it helped her with the loss of her own mom.

“I haven’t. It’s only been a little over a week. He’s not home-home. He’s on a work release program. He gets picked up at a halfway house in AC in the morning before work and has to be back when he’s finished for the day. He’s working at the garden center. Mr. & Mrs. McKnaulty tweaked his hours so he gets to spend an hour or two a day at home before heading back in the evening.”

I can see that she is filled with so much emotion. “Your mom and dad must be so happy… and you,” she says, brushing away the wetness from her cheeks. “Is he okay?” She asks, her voice quivering.

“They’re relieved he’s out of there. My mom’s not sure if he’s okay or not; she says he’s different, she’s worried. She can’t tell what he is feeling. He’s quiet, he doesn’t say much. She is hoping that he is just a little overwhelmed right now and doesn’t want to push,” I answer sadly.

“What does Mikey think? Has he seen him?” She asks, trying to steady her hands.

“He thinks he just needs some time. JJ, I know this is hard for you. You told Mikey and I that you didn’t want to hear his name, but now… I just thought you should know.”

“Has Mikey seen him?” She repeats, not commenting on my previous statement.

“Yes, Mikey sees him as often as he can. He was there the day he was released.”

She nods her head as if she has expected this all along. She’s quiet and I can tell that she is processing our conversation although she has barely said anything.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m happy for him. It’s just strange hearing about him, but it was a long time ago. I’m fine, really,” She answers casually, trying to convince me and herself. “I hope everything works out for him. I’m happy for all of you. I really am. I know it must have been hard on you,” She adds awkwardly, trying to maintain her composure.

She knows I can see through her façade, I know that it rips her apart to hear his name. She doesn’t ask any other questions, and I don’t offer any other details in fear of making her more upset.

***

(Jesse)

Mikey calls later that evening to check on me. I dismiss it as if it is old news and I tell him I’m fine. Later that night, while lying in bed, I come to the conclusion that my dad must know as well. I can only assume they are all trying to protect me.

Suddenly, my body begins to shake uncontrollably and the tears begin to flow. There are so many emotions running through my body, relief that he is safe, angry that he didn’t contact me, hopeful that he will, scared that he’ll never be the same, sad at the way it ended, and once again, angry that he didn’t try to fix it, and angrier that I still care so damn much that he didn’t. Around and around it goes until I finally cry myself to sleep.

The next day, after a restless night of sleep, I get up bright and early, although my first instinct is to stay in bed. I have to keep my mind busy with other things. I cannot go down that road again.

I step into the Frank Simone Art Gallery a little after ten in the morning and ask to speak to Mr. Simone. He’s happy to see me and offers me a job on the spot. This is the much needed distraction I was hoping for. Frank, as he asks to be called, believes it’s time for me to start getting more exposure and he says this is the place to do it. He is well respected in the art community and is known