Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) by Marie Force

bike let out one last gasp before it went quiet.

    He’d taken his mother’s concerns about airing the family’s laundry in public to heart when he decided to take the bike on a rare midwinter outing. No sense advertising his connection to O’Malley & Sons by driving the company truck.

    The motorcycle was one of the few secrets he kept from his mother, who’d have a stroke if she knew her two youngest sons owned Harleys and—even at thirty-five and thirty-six—went to great lengths to keep them hidden from her.

    Taking off his helmet, Colin watched the clusters of people moving toward the door that led to the church hall in the basement. The group seemed to be well acquainted, and he wondered how they’d feel about a newcomer.

    Before he could lose his nerve, he tucked the helmet under his arm and crossed the parking lot.

    Inside he stuffed his gloves in the pockets of his brown leather coat and stashed the helmet on a table in the back of the room. Colin was relieved when he didn’t recognize any of the dozen or so people who were helping themselves to coffee and brownies. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how concerned he was about running into someone he knew. A middle-aged man with a comb-over and a friendly smile approached him.

    “Hi, there.” He reached out to shake Colin’s hand. “I’m Hugh. Come on in.”

    “Colin. Nice to meet you.”

    “First time?” Hugh asked, raising an eyebrow.

    “Shows, huh?”

    “No worries. Everyone’s welcome here. Hey, guys,” Hugh called out to the others. “This is Colin.”

    “Hi, Colin,” they said in unison.

    Minutes later, he was in possession of a steaming cup of coffee and a home-baked brownie. The group slowly made its way to the table in the middle of the room. A pretty brunette who Colin figured was in her early thirties appeared to be the leader. She said her name was Meredith. After she went over the meeting procedures, she asked who would like to go first.

    Hugh raised his hand. “This has been a good week, but I’m worried about my friend.” For Colin’s benefit, he added, “I ran a business with my best friend from childhood until his alcoholism made it impossible for him to work anymore. I did everything I could to keep him out of trouble until he landed in jail, and I ended up with an ulcer. I’ve come to realize, thanks to these people right here, that I couldn’t do it anymore.” Hugh paused and cleared the emotion from his throat. “He’s homeless now, and I’m not even sure where he is, but I’m as powerless over his alcoholism as he is. I realize now I can’t help him. So I’m doing what I can to help myself.”

    Meredith’s soft brown eyes were full of empathy as she listened to Hugh, and Colin wondered what—or who —had brought her here.

    “Thank you,” Hugh said when he was finished.

    “Thank you, Hugh,” the group replied.

    Listening to five other people share their stories, Colin was fascinated to notice that few of them talked about the alcoholic—or their “qualifier” as some referred to it—in their lives. Rather they focused on themselves and how alcohol affected them.

    Colin’s gaze traveled to a sign on the wall: “I didn’t cause it, can’t control it, can’t cure it.” He’d seen the saying in Al-Anon literature, but the words took on new meaning as he listened to the group talk about the challenges they faced in their lives and the role alcohol and alcoholism played.

    The ninety-minute meeting went by quickly, and Colin was surprised when Meredith said they were almost out of time. “Before we close tonight, we’d like to welcome you, Colin. I hope you found the meeting helpful.”

    “Very much so. My brother is in rehab, and everyone in our family is anxious about how he’ll be when he gets home. I heard a lot of myself in what you all were saying tonight—about trying to keep the really bad thing from happening. Well, it did anyway, and I’ve come to the