Speakeasy (True North #5)(73)

Alec sits up. “A meeting? I’ll take you. We can go to Worthy Burger afterward.”

Well, that’s unexpected. I’m immediately hit with dueling images—a Worthy Burger in its perfect, shiny bun, with pickles and handmade fries, and Alec sitting through a grim AA meeting under the fluorescent lighting of the church basement.

One of those is more appealing than the other.

“Please?” he says.

Griffin scowls.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’d like that.” The burger, mostly. But I can be brave through the other part, too.





My AA meetings open with the Serenity Prayer. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

And then the meeting leader asks if anyone is here for the first time.

Alec raises his hand. And when they call on him, he says, “I’m Alec and I’m here to support May.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: it’s rough being an easy crier.





The next evening I’m watching a horrible action movie with my brothers when my phone rings.

Alec! my heart hopes. But it’s not him, it’s Rita. “Hey girl,” she says. “Let’s talk about how Alec brought you to a meeting last night.”

I walk out of the TV room and into the kitchen, glancing around as if Rita might be peeking through a window. “You weren’t there. How do you know these things? I thought the second A in AA was for anonymous.”

“Please, girl. I have spies.”

“You’re terrifying.”

“And you’re holding out on me. You didn’t say he was a tall, cool drink of water with a smile like a young George Clooney and beautiful manners.”

I smile in spite of myself. “That’s not far off.”

“Hookups don’t take pretty girls to their AA meetings.”

That is absolutely true. “Be that as it may, I’m trying to take it slowly. My family is still terrified that I’m going to screw up. And I don’t trust myself.”

Rita makes an impatient noise. “That is the truest thing you’ve said yet!”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

“Look, May. Nobody is better at steps eight and nine than you.”

I don’t even know what she’s getting at. Steps eight and nine are figuring out who you harmed due to your addiction and making amends. “What does that have to do with Alec?”

“Plenty. It’s really important to make amends. And you’re young, so your list of injured parties was a tad shorter than the rest of us have.”

This is true, up to a point.

“But steps eight and nine don’t ask you to live the next decade of your life in a state of permanent atonement.”

“I know that.”

“No, I’m not sure you do. It’s great that you care about your family and what you may have put them through worrying about you. But you’re doing really well, and now it’s on them to realize it.”

“They do. I think?”

“You always mention them to me,” she points out. “They didn’t like Daniela. They worry about you. Now, spending ten months of your life on a bitchy girlfriend wasn’t the greatest idea, but it didn’t harm anyone but yourself. So stop apologizing for making ordinary mistakes.”

I don’t even know what to say.

“And that means grabbing that nice man by the balls.”

“That sounds a little violent, Rita.”

She laughs in my ear. “I’m lousy at metaphors. But do you love him?”

“I…” Rita has made a few good points. The truth is I don’t feel like I’ve earned Alec. So it’s hard for me to admit my feelings. “I could easily love him. He’s very lovable.”

Rita sniffs. “Then get off the phone and go do it. You don’t need anyone’s permission to love a good man who treats you right. Does he support your sobriety?”

“He does,” I say easily. “He doesn’t understand it, though. He doesn’t know what he’s getting into.”

“How’d he do at your meeting?”

“Great. He didn’t say much afterward, though.”

“On a scale of, say, one to Armageddon, how was the speaker?”

I think about that. “A solid seven, I guess. Lots of heartbreak, but without serious consequences. She accidentally killed her boyfriend’s puppy, though.”

Rita makes a noise of dismay. “A puppy died, and you’re only giving her story a seven?”

“Okay, an eight? I cried.”

“You cry about everything. Did Alec cry?”

“I don’t know. Where is this line of questioning going?”

“You’re so worried about what he thinks about you and alcohol. I’m trying to figure out if he’s throwing off bad signals, or if you’re just kind of hung up on the idea.”

I sigh. “That second thing is probably right. Alec is unflappable.” It’s a word I’d chosen for him right off the bat. And he hadn’t really let me down yet. So why didn’t I give him more credit?

Oh, right. Because I’m wildly insecure, and I’ve never loved someone without it ending in disaster.