“What do you know about Madam Moselle’s?” I asked. “I used to be a waitress,” she replied. I knew she was lying. Madam Moselle had hostesses... but not waitresses. If a girl worked at Madam Moselle, she definitely was not a waitress. It was a tawdry place, one where $150 could get a guy anything he wanted if he played his cards right. I glanced over at my window shade. “It stuck,” I said. “What’s stuck?” She asked. “The shade,” I replied. “It won’t go up.” I could tell by the smirk that crossed. It’s like something that happened to a different person.Still looking at the wall, Chloe said softly, “I have Case’s championship MVP trophy in my room ... if anyone’s interested.”Why? Oh!Suddenly, the memory resurfaced. His final year of high school and winning the state championship.We were all together – the family, Mom, Dad, Juliet and Chloe – they came to all the home games and most of the away games, and every one of the playoffs. We were happy. I remember the constant cheers from that. More

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