“Hope it helped.”
Frankie and I walked out, my arm around his shoulders. “I don’t like the thought of you going home by yourself so late at night, so I’ll pick you up from now on.”
Instead of accepting my offer, Frankie remained silent until we were waiting for the attendant to bring my car. When we got inside and buckled our seat belts, he cocked his head. “What do you think I did when you were in prison?”
“Huh?” Concentrating on the traffic, I wasn’t paying much attention to what Frankie said. “I can’t believe so many people are out this late during the week.”
“I said, what do you think I did when you were in prison? How do you think I got home?”
“Oh.” I stopped at a red light. “Um…I don’t know.”
“I took the train home. Every single night. By myself. I didn’t bother to drive into the city. I’d be too tired to drive home so late anyway.”
“Well, now you don’t got to. I’m here.” I gave him a smile, but he frowned in reply.
“That’s not the point. I appreciate the offer, but you can’t stay out this late all the time. You got a job now and havta be up early. I’m used to the routine.”
“But—”
“Nope,” Frankie said, his jaw set mulishly in a way I hadn’t ever seen. “You need to get used to the fact that I’m different now. Independent. Way more than before you went away. I’m not that give-in-all-the-time, whatever-you-want kind of guy anymore. I learned to stand up for myself this past year.”
“So I see.” Part of what I’d loved about Frankie was how he leaned on me. Now I had to learn to change and love him for his maturity and strength.
“Is that gonna be an issue?” he challenged me, and I tried to make my smile as reassuring as possible.
“No, of course not. We both need to learn to get used to each other again. You’re different and so am I.”
“Yeah. I know.”
I let that remark hang in the air for another day. I knew Frankie wanted to talk more about my time in prison, but I couldn’t. Not yet. If ever.
