Stronger (22 page)

Epilogue

The pile of slippery coupons Jan gave me slides out of my hands and down the steps.

"Shit, shit,
shit!
"

I'm never going to get into the meeting room on time.  Not when both work and classes each end at 5:30 and the meetings on those same days begin at 5:45.  But I won't miss even one.  I'm religiously five minutes late to all three of the meetings each week, but I haven't missed a meeting yet and Edith tries to stall Leonard until I arrive.

I scoop up the coupons, some of them wet and muddy from whatever got tracked down the church's steps.  Holding them close to my chest, the coupons still flutter out of my grasp as I stomp down the hall toward the meeting door.

Edith leans out of the doorframe.

"What's going on?" she asks as I approach.  "I could hear you
shitting
all the way down the stairs."

"Could've used some help," I grumble, but I also laugh.  Of course, Edith doesn't offer to take the muddy coupons.  All she does is laugh at me.

"Looks like you can handle it.  What is all this anyway?"

"Jan could use some advertising.  I'm giving him a hand."

"Haven't you given him about fifty hands, by now?  Isn't managing his entire business enough?  Now you're advertising for him too?" Edith snorts.

"I'm a marketing major." I shrug.  "Business management is only my minor.  Jan's my guinea pig."

"And he doesn't mind a bit, since she's tripled his business," Aidan adds as he comes to the door. He steps past Edith and helps gather up some of the coupons.  He swoops down, leaving a kiss on my mouth. 

He makes sure to kiss me every single time that we've been apart.  That started back when I had to testify against Desmond, five years ago.  I told the judge and jury everything and during the break for lunch, Desmond managed to follow me to the bathroom.  He told me that he would get me for testifying, for turning Claudia against him, for betraying his trust.  His fucking
trust. 
When I started screaming at him, about what he'd done to
my
trust and how he could go fuck himself, that if he ever tries to come and get me, I would bury his nuts in his nostrils again, he bashed me in the face.  The court bailiffs saw him do it, but didn't get to him fast enough to prevent me from doing just what I told Des I would.  I brought my knee up into his groin so hard that the bailiffs had to scrape Desmond off the floor.  Aidan got to court late that day, after everything had happened, and kissing my quickly-bruising face, he told me over and over and over again how grateful he was that Des hadn't done something even worse.  Now, years later, our kiss is like a prayer.  It is not an asking prayer, but one that has been answered, and it is the way we show how grateful we still are to have one another. 

"How's my almost-college grad?" he asks.  "Only a week until graduation--"

"That just makes me more tired," I say, but I do it with a smile.  He wraps his free hand around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze and another kiss on the top of my head.

"But you made it here."

"I always make it," I murmur playfully.  He straightens the coupons and hands them back to me. I give him one more kiss.  "Now go sit with your
men. 
I'll see you after the meeting."

"You can count on it," he says.  Then, dropping his voice to a whisper in my ear, "Don't forget, Mrs. Lowt is making us dinner and then...it's
baby night.
"

"You think I would forget?  Thursday is my favorite day of the week," I say.  We've been trying for the last couple of weeks.  Since Fridays are our only day off each week (we're trying to save up enough to move out of Aidan's apartment and into a real house) Thursday nights are dedicated to staying up all night and having our fill of each other's bodies. 

Aidan crosses the room to his table full of guys and I follow Edith to our regular table, in the back.  Natalie tips back in her chair, smiling when she catches sight of me.  She waves for me to take the seat beside her.

"Hey, Aidan said that Desmond called you?" she says.  I nod. 

"I don't know how he got phone privileges, but yeah.  He called to tell me again that he was going to get parole and hunt me down."

"That
bastard
!" Nat's voice climbs.  It still sounds funny when she swears, but she's picked up my bad habits. I guess that's what happens when you have a best friend that talks like a sailor.  "You notified the authorities, haven't you?"

"I did one better," I say.  "I told Claudia.  She's got enough connections and money to keep him right where he is.  He's not going anywhere for a long, long time."

"Well, I'm glad for that, but I don't like that he can even get on a phone."

"Nobody does," I say.  I flick my chin at the new face on the other side of Nat.  "Who's this?"

"This is Cora," Natalie says.  The woman beside her, sweatered and sniffly, looks annoyed, or maybe it's bored.  She dabs her nose with a tissue, eyeing the room before her gaze settles on me with a mild hatred.  "Cora, this is Lydia Badeau, the one I was telling you about.  You might want to ask her to be your sponsor.  She's married to that guy you were eyeing earlier."

"I wasn't
eyeing
him, I only
noticed
him," the woman says as she turns her eyes on me.  "Just so you know, I'm not here for me.  I'm only here to support my husband."

She doesn't have to point him out.  I know everyone in the room, but the hulking biker dude in the corner is particularly unmistakable.  Especially his scowl.  But, they wouldn't have let this Cora girl in here too, unless she was an invisible-card-carrying member of our little alcoholic club.  I don't call her out on it.  I just pull a card from my purse and slide it across the table.

"If you want some help, you can call me," I say.  Cora flashes me a dry smile as Leonard stands up, calling attention.  He clears his throat so loudly that it rings in my ears, even at our back table, but the room doesn't really quiet down until Edith sticks her two index fingers in her mouth and blasts us with an ear-splitting whistle. 

"Tonight, we have asked a few members to speak.  Our group has grown and I think we would all benefit from hearing where some of the people in this room have come from, how they manage their addictions and what they've learned in their journey thus far.  So, tonight, instead of breaking into our small groups, we're going to do an open talk.  It is a night of lessons, and I've asked a few members in particular to share.  Each will begin by telling us what they believe is an important lesson they have learned up to this point in their sober journey, as we might all benefit from their knowledge."

One of the newer guys harumphs.  Leonard twists, searching the room and I feel the back of my neck prickle as he says my name.  I knew he was going to do it, but I'm not sure I'll ever love standing up and speaking in front of a whole room.  At least it's not as bad as it used to be. 

I look around the room at these people who have become my friends and support.  My gaze finally rests on Aidan and he smiles his encouragement from his table full of men.

"Hi.  I'm Lydia, and I'm an alcoholic," I say.  The room greets me, the voices of my friends are recognizable.  I wink at Aidan.  "Leonard asked me last week to talk on this subject and I've spent all this week thinking about it.  I've learned so many things since the first time I set foot in this room, it was hard for me to narrow it down to the most important ones.  I guess the first thing I learned was that I was an alcoholic.  That was a shocker."

There is a low rumble of laughter around the room.

"But once I learned what I was, what my weakness was, the other pieces of my life started to fall into place.  When I first showed up here, I was still trying to convince myself that I didn't care about anything, but I think part of why I am an alcoholic is because I cared
too much
about all the wrong things.  The truth is, I was terrified of the choices I had made up to that point, but I didn't think I had any control over it.  I let everyone else take my wheel and steer me however they wanted through my life.  So, I've learned that I do care and need to care and that I had to grab the wheel and make the choice to steer myself."

There is a low murmur of agreement and even an
amen
from Karyn, aka, Hot-Dog-Hairzilla.  I still call her that in my head, but she was the one who arranged the surprise wedding shower for Aidan and I.  She was also the one who caught the bouquet at our wedding.  Watching Leonard put the garter he caught on Karyn's leg, while she was simulating an orgasm, was something to remember.

"Tell them the best one, Lydia," Aidan pipes up from his seat.  "The one we talked about last night."

Edith shushes him for speaking, but I nod.  It is the best lesson, the one that I told him when we were out walking, hand in hand.  It came to me as he rubbed my ring finger.   

"I was telling my husband last night," I say, with a smile to him, "I've learned that I...
we
...are all stronger than we ever give ourselves credit for.  Too often we believe that we are alone and fighting our own battles by ourselves, when the truth is that we're all in this together.  Just about everyone in this room has fought and is still fighting alcoholism.  Or narcotics.  Or both.  Or something else, even.  We may not have fought our battles together, but the we're all in the same war and we need each other to win.  We're here to draw on the strength of others in this room and give it back to whoever needs it too, because that's what makes us
all
stronger than the obstacles that come our way.  The world is filled with addictions and it really doesn't matter which particular one grabs your steering wheel.  It matters more that when you lose your grip, you know who can help you get it back.  Addictions might
feel
overwhelming, but we are
all
stronger than that
.
"

SPECIAL THANKS

Thank you, God, for putting all these people in my life.  It is always about you.

Thank you Pook, Little Rocker Chick, and Poley, for dealing with this crazy job I do.  I love you guys more than anything.

Thanks to the back table at 5:45!  This book would be nothing without your wisdom.  Thank you for so much for openly sharing your insights and stories.  I am humbled by your journeys and honored that you would trust me with your personal histories.  Your candid truths helped me to create what I hope are authentic characters and an authentic story that captures the same type of bravery each of you exhibit in your daily lives.  Thanks again for your help.

Love and kisses to my incredible Beta Babes: Candace Selph, Delphina Miyares, Jackie McPherson, Lisa ‘Pisa’ Ammari, Heather Love King, and Kathryn Grimes.  Your enthusiasm and willingness to help is above and beyond, your suggestions always make my books stronger.  Thank you for getting on my roller coaster ride, yet again!

Huge thanks to Tom, Kenny, Bill, and Paul for taking the time to hang out.

Thanks to Starla Huchton for helping me spruce up my cover design.  You rock the Photoshop!

Thanks to my mom, for always listening to the ideas, and to my dad, for always handing over the phone.  It’s no small job.

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BY MISTY PROVENCHER

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(#1 Cornerstone,  #2 Keystone,  #3 Jamb,  #4 Capstone)

New Adult, Contemporary Romance

HALE MAREE

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(companion book to HALE MAREE)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Misty Provencher is a long-term wife, mama, and author. The first two are a bit more recent, but Provencher's writing roots date back to hieroglyphics she left in her mother's womb.

While Provencher can ride a motorcycle, knows how to Karate chop, and has learned enough French, Spanish, and Sign Language to get herself slapped, Misty's life is actually just the ruse she uses to connect with people. She is totally enchanted with them and spends her days trying to translate the soul bouquets of her muses into words.

Misty Provencher lives in the Mitten.
You can find her books online at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Ibooks, Smashwords, Kobo and CreateSpace.

She also welcomes your knock on her internet blog door at: http://mistypro.blogspot.com/ or find her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Instagram, Google+, Tumblr, Pinterest and other social media sites as Misty Provencher.

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