A light rain fell on Darling, Pennsylvania, a city of 40,000 on the edge of the Allegheny National Forest. Morning traffic clogged the streets as people headed about their lives. A red coupe made its way west and passed through the modest medical district. Two miles away, a nurse escorts a young woman outside of an old two-story building that sits detached from the newer structures closer to the hospital. The nurse, in her late forties, keeps a small gap between her and her ward, he eyes filled with cautious hope.

The younger woman, dressed in a grey sweatshirt and faded pink sweatpants, carried a burgundy duffel bag as she shuffled across the portico. As she reached the edge, her eyes fixated on a stream of water flowing from a gutter. She watched it run across the edge of the parking lot before it disappeared into a storm drain. Her head throbbed, a pain that radiated through each limb. Her hands shook, and she craved a cigarette, the lone vice still allowed to her.

The nurse tried to get her attention. When her initial attempt failed, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Who’s taking you home, Anna?”

Anna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “My brother.” She held up her hands, her eyes still focused on the ground. “He should be here by now.”

“It’s okay, I’m happy to wait with you until he shows up.” She walked over to a tattered chair and sat. “I love rainy mornings. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Anna ignored the invitation. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Anna turned toward the nurse, her shoulders slumped forward. “Why do you love rainy mornings?” Her voice remained low, but the tone came across as abrasive.

“Everything. The sound, the smell, the way it looks. I find it to be very calming. I take it you don’t feel the same?”

“I used to. When I was little, I would just sit and stare out into the yard and watch the rain.” A faint smile flashed across her face before it evaporated. “Now, it just reminds me of a life that isn’t there.”

“It’ll be okay. It’ll be hard, but you’ll get through this, Anna.”

“And, if I don’t, I’ll be back here for another thirty days.” The sound of tires cutting through water drew her attention. She turned and saw her brother, Drew, pulling toward the curb. “There’s the little dipshit.”

“Sorry, I overslept.”

“I believe it, and I applaud you for not coming up with some elaborate lie.” Anna passed her bag through the window, pressing it into Drew’s face. She waved a hand to the nurse without turning around. “Thanks.”

* * *

After turning onto the highway, Drew tapped a coffee cup that wobbled. “Picked that up for you. How are you feeling?”

Anna picked up the cup, letting its heat soak into her hand. “Like I just spent a month learning how much I fucked up my life.”

Five years younger than Anna, Drew still held onto a small amount of childish naiveté. “But, you’re better now, right?”

She looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“No, I mean, I know it’s a process and all that. I just mean, you’re in a better place. Aren’t you?”

She gazed out of the window, watching buildings pass by before taking a sip from the cup. “I don’t know.” She squeezed her eyes shut as the coffee’s warmth coursed through her, fighting to keep back tears.

“I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“Then let’s hope I never need to get anywhere on time.” They shared a laugh, and she felt a tiny amount of weight lift off of her shoulders. “Thanks, Drew. I mean it.” She turned her attention back to the world around her and shifted in her seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Do you have any plans today?”

“Great, you answered my question with a question. No, Anna, I don’t have any plans.”

“Can we go see dad?”

* * *

After almost an hour, the grey clouds gave way to sunshine. Anna, who drifted off, woke up to the bumps of a well-worn state road. She stared at the sky as some rock song played quietly on the car’s stereo. As the car rolled to a stop, she stretched and sat up in her seat. “How long was I out for?”

Drew chuckled. “You fell asleep in ten minutes, haven’t made a sound since. Well, except for the snoring.”

“Cut me some slack, I haven’t had decent sleep since—“

An awkward silence filled the cabin, broken by Drew after a few moments. “When’s the last time you talked to mom?”

“Last week.”

“You’re going to be staying at the house, right? You should probably talk to her. What about Gail?”

She turned her face back toward the window. The coffee cup, still clutched in her hand, vibrated wildly. She pulled in a deep breath and held it for a moment before she spoke. “Mom and I will be fine. Gail, on the other hand, wants nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t say that. She just—“

“Can we not talk about this right now?”

Shadows rolled across the car as it passed under a wrought iron archway. The tires crunched over gravel, winding up a small hill lined with granite and marble markers. Anna tried to speak; the words caught in her throat. She watched a parade of surnames roll by, the order burned into her memory. The car rolled to a stop in front of a modest headstone bearing the name SHAW.

Anna saw a bouquet of plastic daisies next to an adjacent grave. “We should have picked up flowers.”

“Dad wasn’t really a flower kind of guy. Now, if you said we should have grabbed a bottle of bourbon, I’d agree.”

She nudged him gently with her elbow, a wan smile on her lips. “I never knew what that smell was until I was fifteen. I went to a party at Cheryl Benson’s house. Her parents were gone and someone got into the liquor cabinet.”

“Yeah, then you came home and puked on the front porch.”

“Dad found me, thank god. I saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes, and it broke me. But, he took me for a drive, bought me a ginger ale, and we talked. You know, every night he had a glass of bourbon, but I never saw him drunk.”

Drew shook his head. “Nope, not once.”

“He told me”—tears broke free and ran down her cheeks—“he felt guilty. He thought it was his fault, and that made me feel worse.”

Drew put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “He caught me in the backyard one night, high as shit. He was, let’s say, less understanding about that.”

Anna’s tears came faster. “I miss him so much.”

“I do, too.”

The siblings spent an hour sitting at their father’s grave. They reminisced, shared laughs, and shed a few tears. A light rain drove them back to Drew’s car, where the conversation continued. Anna’s stomach rumbled, so they decided to head into the town of Baker’s Ridge for lunch. Drew spotted a diner, its facade covered in reflective aluminum, and declared “this is the spot.”

Anna hesitated, but her brother persisted until she gave in. The interior—exactly what she’d expected—did nothing to assuage her reluctance. The table, while clean, maintained a slightly greasy feel. The air carried the ghosts of meals past. She quietly protested as they took a seat, though she soon acquiesced.

With some goading from her brother, Anna swapped a salad, her original choice, for a chicken sandwich. Drew opted for a cheeseburger and fries. She asked for a water, while he ordered both coffee and a soft drink.

“What’s wrong with you?” She smiled, showing her question meant no harm. “How much caffeine do you need?”

“I’m a busy man, I’ve got a lot going on. Plus, we still have to drive home, and you don’t want me falling asleep at the wheel, do you?”

The thought of going home drained the joy out of Anna, and she slumped in her seat. Darling, the town she’d spent her entire life in, started to look like a coffin. The people there knew her and, more importantly, knew her struggles. Those who fed her addiction also lived there, planting doubt that she could overcome her demons. How could she, when she was still deep in their dominion?

Then, there was Gail. Anna always looked up to her big sister, so much so that she followed her footsteps and became a teacher. When Anna’s troubles came to light, Gail froze her out. To her, it was a great betrayal. She put her reputation on the line vouching for Anna to her principal, recommending her for an open position. After being outed as a pill-popper, Anna’s damaged standing dragged her sister’s down with it.

This is when she’d last visited her father’s resting place. She desperately wished he’d been there to comfort her. Instead, she sat and cried, spilling the contents of her psyche in a mass purge. Her mother, sweet and understanding, would always be there for her, but their relationship would never be like the one shared with her dad. Anna didn’t view this as a negative, but as a simple statement of fact.

A very long, bumpy road lay ahead of her. She spent may night recently daydreaming about starting fresh somewhere new. Maybe she would someday, but, for the moment, money wouldn’t allow it. The thought of living somewhere far away from where her troubles started held significant real estate in her mind. ‘One day’ became her mantra, her purpose, she just had to convince herself it was possible.

She drifted deeper into her own mind when Drew snapped her out of her reverie. “You’d better be careful.”

“What?”

“If you go any deeper in thought, you’re going to drown.”

Anna laughed, a full belly laugh. The release of tension left her feeling ten pounds lighter. “When did you become a philosopher?”

“Don’t underestimate me, dear sister.”

Drew got a to-go cup of coffee and paid the bill before they headed home. Anna declined his offer to do the same, a fact he used to rib her when she asked him to stop so she could grab a soda and a pack of cigarettes. The rain returned as they neared Darling. Never particularly superstitious, Anna couldn’t help but take it as an omen. Her insides grew cold and heavy when they pulled into their mom’s driveway.

“Go ahead, I’m going to grab my bag and have a smoke.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Go on, I’ll be fine.”

He lingered for a moment, nodding his head and patting her shoulder. “Okay, I’m going to make a sandwich.” Drew opened the front door and took a step inside.

“We just ate an hour ago!”

He turned back, barely breaking stride. “We sure did.” He disappeared inside, leaving Anna to muse on the absurdity of the situation. She walked up onto the porch and took a seat in a rocking chair. Thoughts welled up in her mind, memories of playing in the yard and watching cars go by.

All these years later, little appeared different in the neighborhood. A few houses wore different colors and more minivans sat in driveways, but that was all superficial. Beneath the surface, everything looked as it had twenty years ago. Hollow sadness crept around her heart like kudzu as she thought about how quickly two decades burned away. She sat back, her head lightly smacked against the wall as the chair rocked.

“I really wish you’d give those up.”

Anna jumped, her cigarette fell free and landed on the floor. She stood up, squashed it out, and picked up the butt. “Hi, mom.”

“Here”—she put her hands on Anna’s shoulders—“let me look at you.”

“C’mon, mom, it’s only been a month.”

“Yes, but in thirty-one years, I’ve never gone more than a week without seeing you. You look exhausted, like you’re carrying extra weight.”

“Mom, Jesus!”

“Not like that. You look like you’re carrying all the world’s burdens.”

Anna rocked back and forth from her heels to her toes. “Nope, just mine.”

“Well, you’re home now. Come on in and warm up, I’ll make you some coffee.”

* * *

Anna woke up from her post-dinner nap anxious and confused. Seeing the familiar sight of her childhood bedroom left her with a sense of déjà vu. The fact she found herself back here put a cold weight on her chest, a feeling she couldn’t shake. A sudden shock hit and sent her scrambling for her phone. “Shit!”

She bounded downstairs, calling for Drew as she nearly tripped over her own feet.

“He ran to the store,” her mom said. “I can call him if you need something.”

“No”—she rubbed her forehead—“I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Well, I can give you ride. Where is it?”

Eight minutes later, they pulled up in front of Saint Mark’s Lutheran Church. Anna’s mom shifted into PARK. “Do you need me to go in with you?”

“No, mom, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride. I can walk back after.”

“Nonsense, you’ll freeze to death. I’ll have your brother pick you up.”

Anna briefly thought about arguing, but she had neither the time nor the patience. “Okay, I should be done around nine.” She stepped out of the car, pulled her coat collar up, and walked toward the church. Her nerves grew tense, vibrating with each step. She didn’t believe she could do it, but she knew that she had to try.

A man and woman, each in their mid-fifties, greeted her with smiles as she approached the door. “Welcome,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m Paul, and this is my wife, Emily.”

“We’re glad you could join us tonight,” Emily added.

Anna stopped before taking a step back. “I thought this was anonymous?”

“It is,” Paul said, his smile intact. “You’re free to share as much or as little as you like.”

Emily chimed in again. “Whatever makes you most comfortable. We’re all here for support, so please don’t feel the need to say anything you’re not ready to.”

Paul, sensing his handshake offer being rejected, withdrew his hand. “Feel free to head inside and grab a seat. We have tea and coffee—“

“Caffeinated and caffeine-free!” Emily interjected.

“Yes, some of us”—Paul nodded toward his wife—“need to avoid excess caffeination. There’s also a plate of homemade cookies and a veggie tray.” He stood aside and opened the door before making an exaggerated ‘right this way’ gesture. “Take the first right, our room is at the end of the hall.”

Anna walked into the church, her mind fixated on the oddball sweetness of the couple. Yes, they seemed nice, but she worried that—with her heightened anxiety—Emily’s exuberance would be too much to handle. It’s only once a week, I’m sure I can handle that. She walked down the hall, enjoying the dim bulbs that illuminated the path. For a reason she couldn’t pinpoint, they comforted her, and she felt grateful for the lack of fluorescents.

Shadows moved behind an open door ahead of her. Vague chunks of conversation carried to her, accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. She stopped just short of the door, unable to coax her feet forward. “No need to be afraid, Anna. It’s only the rest of your life.”

After a little mental prodding, she stepped through the doorway and into the room, which fell silent. The half-dozen people inside eyed her with caution, hesitant to welcome an outsider into their bubble. For a moment, she stood in place and debated running away to hide in the bushes and smoke. Her heart began to beat faster, and she remembered her star turn in a kindergarten Thanksgiving play. Acid bubbled in her throat; she felt just as scared and vulnerable as she had under that spotlight.

“I swear, none of you pricks have any damned manners, do you?” A woman, roughly her mother’s age, stepped forward. Her salt and pepper hair, pulled back in a ponytail, bounced as she walked. “Hi, dear. My name—well, you can call me Carol. Would you like something to drink?”

A man called out from across the room. “I would!” A small round of laughter broke out.

Carol cut her eyes at the man, narrowing them to a point. “Oh, shut up, Bob, and don’t eat all the cookies, for God’s sake.”

Bob’s head dropped and he scurried off. This brought a new, louder bout of laughter from the group.

“Don’t mind Bob,” Carol said as she ushered Anna to the refreshments table. “He’s harmless, he just has a dumb sense of humor.” She grabbed a styrofoam cup from a stack and wrapped a napkin around it. “Seeing as I made the coffee, I can vouch for it. Regular or decaf?”

“Uh, regular, please.” Anna looked around the room, but couldn’t bring herself to look back to the door. A circle of chairs sat in the center, underneath a brass chandelier. Potted ferns sat in the corners; the glow of a security light spilled in through curtains that looked to have been bought around the time World War II ended. A long coat rack sat against the wall next to the coffee pots.

“You can hang your coat up there if you like, but it can get awfully chilly in here this time of year.” She handed Anna the cup and pointed out the sugar and creamer. “You’re welcome to sit next to me if you’d like.”

Carol turned to walk back to her chair when Anna placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

The older woman, seeing the sincerity in her eyes, smiled. The gesture seemed weary, but genuine. “No problem, dear. We’re all in this together.” She turned back toward the chairs; Anna followed like a lost puppy.

As they sat, Carol introduced a few of the members; some were welcoming, others withdrawn. Anna, lost in her own mind, took no offense. After all, they were all here for the same reason, even though different paths brought them here. She raised the cup to her lips, taking two sips. “Jesus, Carol, you were on the money with the coffee.”

Carol chuckled but, before she could respond, Paul stepped into the room. “Okay, everyone, we have a couple of new faces joining us tonight. I want you all to give them a warm welcome.” He gestured toward Anna, urging her to introduce herself. “Remember, you only have to share as much as you’re comfortable with.”

She raised her hand and gave a meek wave. “I’m Anna”—she paused for a moment, eyes wide—“belle. Annabelle.” She slid back in her chair and pressed her palm against her forehead.

“Welcome, Annabelle,” the group said in unison.

“Very good,” Paul said. “Now, Emily should be here any minute with our other newbie, she’s just answering a few questions.” He prepared two cups of coffee before taking a seat. Just as he did, Emily walked in, along with the other new arrival. Anna fixated on him immediately, any self-awareness long gone.

The man, who she guessed to be thirty, looked around with unease. His hair, slightly shaggy but well-kept, hung over his eyes. He stood over six feet tall, dressed in blue jeans and a grey hoodie that said ALLEGHENY ACES HOCKEY. As he scanned the room, he locked eyes with Anna, gave a quick smile, and moved on. She looked down at her feel, embarrassed that he caught her staring.

Bob sprung up from his seat, his finger fixed on the man. “Holy shit! You’re Tom Kerr!”

Paul almost barked at the sudden and rude interruption. “Bob!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you are, aren’t you?”

Paul, a vein pulsing in his neck, sat forward. “Am I going to have to ask you to leave, Bob?” He turned his face, pale and slack, toward the newcomer. “I apologize for that.”

“It’s okay, so long as Bob remembers why we’re here. Yes, I’m Tom Kerr.”

Anna leaned over and nudged Carol. “Who’s Tom Kerr?”

Carol shrugged. “Beats me, but he’s a handsome bastard, isn’t he?”

The meeting opened with a few members giving updates on their recovery. Conversations occasionally meandered off-topic, though Paul did his best to rein everything in. Anna did her best to listen, though her mind wandered off at times, her mind running through every mis-step that led her here. Her eyes periodically wandered to Tom, though his attention largely seemed focused on Bob, who had trouble not staring. Just as she started to feel settled, Paul asked the question she dreaded.

“Would you care to share anything, Annabelle?”

“I, uh, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Whenever you are, we’ll be here. How about you, Tom?”

“Okay,” he said with a chuckle. “I just moved here from Pittsburgh. I spent my whole life there until, well, until I couldn’t. I was a professional hockey player until five years ago, I suffered a really bad set of injuries. That spelled the end of my career.”

He leaned forward, and when he spoke again, his tone softened. “I did everything I could to get back in the game. Before I knew it, I was taking enough painkillers to put down a horse. I lost my fiancee, alienated my friends and family. I hit rock bottom, but I didn’t see it.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he sat back. “Thankfully, I found the program two years ago, and I’ve been clean ever since.”

The group gave a round of applause before settling back into sharing stories. As the evening progressed, Anna found herself glancing more and more at the clock on the far wall. The excitement of having another person in her situation within the group faded. How could she, fresh out of rehab, relate to someone with two years of sobriety under his belt? It left her torn; she knew she needed the support, but she no longer felt as though she could participate.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Anna looked up and saw Carol standing next to her. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t happen to smoke, do you?”

“We can smoke in here?”

“Hell no, but the meeting’s over. Care to step outside?”

Anna thanked Paul and Emily for their hospitality and assured them she would be back next week. Part of her felt guilty for making a promise she may not keep, but she pushed it aside and followed Carol out to the parking lot. They moved away from the front of the church and watched as Tom drove off in his pickup.

Carol lit a cigarette and took a drag. “What do you think of the new guy?”

“Am I qualified to comment? I’m just as new as he is.”

“No you’re not. You had coffee and a seat before he even showed up. You’re qualified, so spill.”

Anna lit her own cigarette and pondered the question before sharing her thoughts. While she could be shy and reserved, she never hesitated to speak her mind, especially when she felt comfortable with her company. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s intimidating.”

“Sweetheart, none of us are guaranteed anything. Sure, he’s got two years, and that’s great, but all it takes is one slip up. To be clear, that goes for you and me, too.”

“And Bob.”

They shared a laugh, and it struck Anna that she almost didn’t show up. She thought about all the little decisions a person makes in a day, and how any one of them could change everything. “How long have you been coming to the meetings?”

Carol look away for a moment, and her face grew tight.

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” The cold pit returned to Anna’s gut and she felt sure she ruined a new friendship.

“It’s okay, it just made me think of the past, that’s all. Six years, and God alone knows how many cups of coffee.”

As they finished smoking, Drew pulled up alongside them and rolled his window down. “Ready to go?”

“Carol, this rude young man is my brother, Drew. Drew, this kind woman is Carol.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, his face flush.

Carol walked over to the car and knelt down, bringing her to his eye level. “You take care of your sister, you hear me? She’s got potential, she just needs a little support.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thanks again, Carol.” Anna opened the door and slid into her seat. “See you next week?”

“Unless I convince that hockey player to run away with me.”

Drew, unusually quiet, pulled out onto the street. “She’s kinda scary.”

“Carol? She’s a sweetheart.”

“So, who’s the hockey player she’s going to run off with?”

“Tom Kerr.”

“What?” Drew swerved, almost kissing a wheel against the curb. “Tom Kerr? That Tom Kerr?”

“I guess, I don’t know him. Now, can you focus on the road?”

“Don’t know him?” He scoffed and shook his head, dumbfounded by what he heard. “He’s a Pittsburgh legend. He was one of the best goalies in the league, rookie of the year; the guy looked like a superstar. Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?”

“You know where I just came from, right? It wasn’t a convention or a comic book shop.”

“Worst. Sister. Ever,” Drew said with a smile plastered across his face.

* * *

Tom pulled into an apartment complex on the western edge of town as a rock song played on the radio. Despite its volume, the music failed to register in his mind. Before he killed the engine, he mused on the idea that he turned it up to drown out the thoughts racing through his mind. If that were the case, it had proved a failed experiment, evidenced by the tension that gripped his skull. His mother always told him that listening to loud music would give him a headache, but the effects of stress were unmistakable.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, easing his feet down onto the asphalt. He’d barely exited when a cold rain began falling. “Perfect timing.” He hopped over the curb and sprinted upstairs before fumbling with his keys outside of his second-floor apartment. A deep breath escaped as a sigh when he turned the knob and stepped inside.

Stacks of boxes lined the living room. Behind their tattered exteriors, they held the entirety of his life, a thought that simultaneously made him want to laugh and cry. “This weekend,” he promised, not yet ready to dive into the ritual of unpacking. He made his way into the kitchen, the lone area to be stocked since his move, and poured a can of vegetable beef soup into a pot. As it heated, he grabbed peanut butter and a jar of grape jelly to make a sandwich.

After finishing his impromptu meal, he cleaned up and brushed his teeth before heading into the bedroom and changing. He sat, staring at a small box placed on the floor. He’d sat it there when he moved in the week before, but hadn’t dared open it. The longer he stared at it, the harder the urge burned at him. “Not tonight,” he said.

An hour passed, then two, though he came no closer to sleep. He rolled from his right side to his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as frustration mounted. The thought of taking a sleep aid came to him, but he had none in the house. No pills, beer, liquor, or anything that could relax him. Given his history, he didn’t trust himself enough to allow their presence.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbed his face, and walked into the living room. A slow sigh rolled through his lips as he stared at the litter of boxes. Then, as if the universe offered him a sign, he spotted a pair of dumbbells and picked them up. He ran through sets of every exercise he could think of, with brief breaks sprinkled in. Just as he started back, his phone chimed.

How are you settling in?

The message came from Steven, his sponsor back in Pittsburgh. To Tom, sponsor didn’t come closes to defining the impact Steven made on his life. He recognized Tom right off the bat, but he didn’t blow smoke up his ass like the others. Instead, Steven saw a young man in desperate need of help, and he offered guidance when Tom needed it most. When the opportunity to relocate came up, he called Steven before anyone else, including his mother.

So far, so good. How’s life treating you?

He stepped out onto his rear balcony as an increasingly heavy rain fell. The view of a tree-covered hillside may not appeal to everyone, but Tom loved it and the sense of peace he got looking out at it. It impressed him so much, he passed over several less expensive options to secure this view and the calming effect it had on him.

You know me, walking the straight and narrow, trying to help others do the same. You get into a group there?

Yeah, had my first meeting tonight. You’re up awfully late.

Been battling a stomach bug and having trouble sleeping. I was about to lay back down, but I wanted to touch base with you.

I appreciate it! All is well here, just trying to adjust.

I’m glad to hear it! I’m going to try and get some rest. I’ll hit you up later. Take care of yourself.

You too!

Tom walked back into his apartment, kicking himself for not reaching out to his friend sooner. He grabbed a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom for a shower. As hot water ran down his body, his mind wandered back to the box. That box. He again pushed the thought out of his mind before getting dressed and heading back to bed.