“I do like kids,” he said. “Did you think telling me this was going to change how I feel about you?”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.

He just looked at her for a long time. “Come here, Sierra,” he said, pulling on her hand. “Come on, come here.” He pulled on her until she got up from the table and came around to his side. He pushed back from the table and pulled her down to his lap. “Listen, we’re both going to bring some baggage to this, to us. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time, huh?”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked with a laugh.

“Oh, I get it—you alcoholics think you’re the only ones who thought of that strategy,” he said. “It’s gotten us both through some of the hard stuff we’ve had to deal with. You’re not the only one with some burdens, okay? So, you’ve decided it’s better if you don’t have children. I get it. I’m not going to try to change your mind.”

“I know you want a family,” she said. “Before we spend one more day—”

“Sierra, up until I met you I wasn’t sure I’d ever even have another girlfriend. The last one kind of wrecked me and I’ll be the first to admit, I wasn’t exactly open to the idea. But then I met you. At first you scared me. You’re pretty confident. That’s a good thing, but it scares the boys.”

“Me? I have so little confidence!”

“Okay, then you have determination. You act like you don’t need anybody.”

“It’s true. I act like that,” she said. “It’s kind of a defense mechanism.”

He smiled at her, his hand casually rubbing her thigh. “It’s a good one. Scared me for a while. But then I got to know you. I think you’re a good person who came through some hard times. I think the important part there is that you came through, not that you had hard times. I know you can’t change people and I wouldn’t try, but people change themselves all the time. When they want to. Sierra, I don’t care if you had troubles in the past—”

“I was trouble, Connie...”

“Okay, you did some things you had to apologize for. Good on you that you apologized. And I guess you learned a few things. I’m not going to give you up just because you used to be a bad girl. What matters is what kind of girl you are now. And now you’re almost perfect. You don’t even have a nasty callus on your big toe.” He smiled at her.

“You can’t have the kind of life you want with someone like me...”

“I can have exactly the kind of life I want with someone like you,” he said. “I know it makes you nervous to think about promises and commitments to the future so we don’t have to go there. I know you’ll completely wig out if I tell you I love you.”

“You can’t be sure of something like that! It’s too soon! You don’t know me yet, not really! When you get to know me, you’ll—”

“I’ll let you say it first, okay? Just relax, I’m not going to hurt you, trick you, back you into a corner, try to change you or smother you. I’m going to be with you just the way you are. I like the way you are.” He gave her a small kiss. “It doesn’t hurt that you think I’m perfect. Except for the toe.”

“I like you so much I don’t want you to get stuck with a bad girlfriend,” she said.

“Then never leave me,” he said. “Just one thing. Don’t worry that you’re going to scare me away by telling me all you’ve been through. Or all the bad things you did.” He leaned his forehead against her forehead. “Sexting, huh?”

“Oh God,” she said, closing her eyes.

“Are you still doing that?” he asked. “Under the right circumstances?”

“No! Of course not!”

“That’s kind of too bad,” he said with an evil grin.

She laughed.

“Here’s what we should do. We should go in the bedroom, do boom-boom for a while, then come back out here and have ice cream with warm chocolate chip cookies. Then, if we want to, we can have more boom-boom.”

“And the fact that I will never have children?” she pushed.

“If you are worried about your genetics, there are an awful lot of kids in this world without parents. You never know what the future really holds.”

“Boom-boom?” she repeated with a laugh. “You’re kind of a sex maniac, you know that.”

“So are you,” he said. “Want me to carry you?”

“Yes,” she said.

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

—Confucius

Chapter 13

ONE EVENING WHEN Connie was tied up at the firehouse, Sierra decided to attend a meeting in Leadville. She was running a little late but people were still grabbing up coffee and cookies—sugar had traditionally been the alcoholic’s friend. When she looked around the church basement for a comfortable spot, she saw a familiar face and headed that way. Neely was sitting in the second row.

“You’re still around?” she asked, taking the chair beside Neely.

“I am. I’m sorry, you’re...?”

“Sierra,” she said, putting out her hand. “I heard you speak a week or two ago and I thought you were doing some traveling. Speaking at meetings. Going to conferences, roundups and that sort of thing.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of that, yes. Steering committee, women’s conference committee, lots of AA work. Now it’s time for a little personal work. And I like this place.”

“It’s a good place,” Sierra agreed.

“I wonder,” Neely said, looking a bit contemplative. “Do you have time for pie and coffee afterward?”

“Sure I do,” she said.

From that moment, Sierra was concentrating more on Neely than on the speaker. Will spoke first and she’d heard him before; she loved listening to him, as a matter of fact. Sober twenty years and so steady, but so aware of his roots in addiction and what it had cost. Then Sophie, sober six years and one of the lucky ones—sobriety had saved her and her family before any irreparable damage. Then Jennifer, sixty years old and sober two years, still struggling mightily, hanging on by the skin of her teeth. Every day and sometimes every hour was a miserable battle for her, but she used all the tools available, many meetings, more than one sponsor, a treatment facility, counseling, family support...

But Sierra was thinking about Neely, filled with admiration and a little awe. Neely was so beautiful and confident. She was taller than Sierra; about five-eight and fit. Her hair was thick, rich brown, shoulder length and swayed when she nodded her head. She was smart—just her presentation at that open meeting was so impressive—emotional and funny and wise, like the poster girl for recovery. She was older than Sierra and had found her sobriety at a younger age—Sierra admired and envied her. She had a kind of reverence for her. Neely was the kind of person she’d fantasized having as a sponsor, not Moody. And before she even really knew Neely, she was immediately thinking of that possibility.

And speak of the devil, Moody was there. This was not his usual meeting—he tended to like the early-morning meeting. He sat in his usual place—third row, far left seat, like he was ready to make a break for it. Sierra didn’t want to talk to Moody tonight because she didn’t want him to horn in on their pie and coffee, which Sierra was already hoping would actually turn into a meal. She wasn’t hungry, but she didn’t want her date with Neely to go by too fast.

Still, she did the right thing and checked in with Moody, saying hello. And then, because duplicity was a definite enemy to sobriety, she told Moody she was going out for coffee with Neely. And he had said, “Good for you.”

“I’m so glad to get out of there,” Neely said as they were leaving. “How would you like to meet at that Denny’s by the highway? Is that too far away for you?”

“No, perfect,” Sierra said, though it was in the opposite direction of the Crossing.

Glad to get out of there? Neely was like a cheerleader for AA, super involved, traveling on a speaking circuit, visiting open meetings, sitting on boards... Even Moody, who was moody, never said he was glad a meeting was over.

They went in their own cars and she couldn’t help but notice Neely had a really nice late-model Lexus. When they were seated in a booth in the restaurant, Neely ordered coffee for both of them.

Sierra couldn’t even remember when she last had a girlfriend. At least she had Connie these days, the best friend she’d ever had. But there was something about a girlfriend that hit all the right buttons. Connie was great and she was completely grateful for him, but there were girl things he would never get. Like cramps, to name just one.

She’d managed to hook up with all the wrong people since she was about fourteen. And once she’d gotten into AA and met people like herself, she’d gotten close to a few but it always felt a little forced. She wanted to feel some chemistry, a strong connection, someone she could really hang on to for ballast. It had felt close a couple of times, but not exciting enough.

“What did you mean you couldn’t wait to get out of there?” Sierra asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Neely said, stirring sugar into her coffee. “I know how important it is for me but there are times I’ve just heard enough and would rather be doing something else.” Then she flashed her gorgeous movie-star smile. “Like this!”

“Like this,” Sierra echoed.

“How long have you lived here, Sierra?”

“Oh, not very long. I got here in March so it’s been...five months. I’m from Iowa. My folks live on a farm in Iowa, but my older brother is here and I wanted to be near family, but not on a farm in Iowa.”

“I’ve lived in Vail for the past few years, but I’m originally from Connecticut,” Neely said. “I just love it here. Plus, I wanted to get away from the whole family. They’re all pretty bad for me. I’m thinking of moving, but not out of Colorado. There was a relationship I had to end. A destructive relationship.”