Was I being honest with myself? Was I now using this as an excuse because deep down, I still wanted that thrill I missed so many years ago? I tried to...convince myself that wasn’t it, that I simply had no choice. I was dressed casually, that was good enough. I was no longer thinking of this as a romantic rendezvous. I still had some time so I fixed myself some coffee and sat, almost comatose, thinking. I stared into space and at that wall clock Gary had put up. I had no idea what to do. I got. "Is this your house, Billy?" Nah. It's my dad's house. Come on in and meet the family."His voice sounded strange, the way he said 'family'.We walked from the car to the house. As we did, I glanced at him, but he kept his gaze turned from me, toward the house and its sagging porch. And after we climbed up the short, rickety stairs, and as Billy pulled open the screen door, I wondered, was he poor?The front door was stuck in its frame, and Billy had to put his weight against it. It popped open,. This proved to be a turning point for Jonas as it was for thousands of orphans like him. Taken in by a foster family in west Berlin he finally understood what a happy home was, being honestly cared for Jonas came out of his shell reveling in just being with people who truly cared for him and his well being. He spent 6 months with the foster family, learning what it was to be a child. Two months after his 6th birthday he was adopted by a 3rd generation German couple in the Brighton Heights. I had expected Billy to try and get me alone for some slap and tickle, but surprise, surprise, he had found a girl that he liked and he was out with her so pretty much all I did was help mom around the house and paint my toe-nails.My relationship with my mom was a little awkward. We hadn't talked much since the conversation in my bedroom on the day I found out about her and her co-workers and what little we did talk about never touched on what had happened that day. She still did not look me in.