“Yeah.”
“Since you’ve been back, you’ve been different. Looking at all the external factors, this should be a low point for you. One of the shittiest times of your life—”
“okay, now—” Jet interjected, but Troy steamrolled over him to finish the thought.
“—but, instead, you’ve come alive,”
Jet nodded. He’d noticed the same paradox, obviously.
Troy continued, “I can understand the pull of your old life. I mean, hell, of course I can. I left a pro baseball career to come back here. I know more than anyone what it means to suddenly be yanked away from fame, and fortune, and being part of a team. I know what it feels like to miss that.”
“Yeah,” Jet agreed, and he was shocked to hear the hoarseness in his voice when he spoke.
“But it’s not everything, bro. It’s not even close. So, even if they do want you back, think real hard about what it would mean. What are you willing to give up to get the cheering crowd back in your life?”
Jet hammered methodically for a few more moments. “I’m honestly more afraid of how I’ll react if they don’t want me back.”
Troy nodded. “I get why you say that. But I’m not. You’ll get over that. I’ve seen that since you’ve been here. You’re made to forge your own path.”
“Like a solo career?”
Troy laughed, “Dude, I don’t know. I doubt you do, either. But what I do know is this– you’ve been given a gift since you’ve been home. Clarity. Real, true, honest to God clarity. To toss that aside like it means nothing would be a real waste.”
Jet gave a small chuckle. “When you said, I’d been given a gift, I thought maybe you were talking about Abby. Most everyone else seems to be.”
Troy gave him a friendly nudge. “Hell, man. If you need me to tell you that she’s a gift, and how much that’s worth, then you’re beyond being helped by any advice I could give you.”