Page 131 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

I wonder how she did it.

“That’s okay, baby,” Chase whispers. “Sounds like the meetings, you know?”

“What meetin’s?” Becca chimes in, stealing the question from my lips.

Chase clears his throat. “Nar-Anon meetings. Recovery for family members who have someone struggling with addiction.” He looks to me. “It’s actually something I was planning to invite you to, Eli… if you want to go.”

My stomach jolts. A recovery group? I’ve only experienced Pops’s addiction for the past month, it hasn’t had time to settle in and affect me. I feel fine.

I shake my head. “That’s nice, man, but I don’t feel like I really need it.”

He bobs his head, his dimples showing with his smile. “Well, the offer’s there. Maybe we’ll talk again after ‘family day.’”

“That group of yours like therapy or somethin’?” Becca asks.

Chase shrugs. “A little bit, I guess.” His eyes flick to mine. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the way the conversation has headed. Becca’s attention jumps to me at the movement, her head cocking to the side. And then she just stares with that green gaze of hers, watching me until I can’t breathe.

“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” She shrugs, her gaze never leaving mine. “Not that I have experi

ence with therapy. Not yet anyway.”

My brow arches. “Not yet?”

“That’s right. Got my first meetin’ on Tuesday.” She takes a bite of her food and smiles.

“You’re seeing a therapist?” My stomach flips at the thought.

“Yeah, what about it?” Her shoulder lifts. “Everyone could use a little therapy.”

“Especially you,” Chase mutters.

Her head snaps over. “Watch your mouth, dick. Don’t make me take back all the nice things I’ve been sayin’ about you.”

Chase chuckles, and my chest warms at her sass.

That damn mouth.

This is nice. I can almost convince myself it’s a regular family dinner. That we haven’t been estranged in all the ways that matter. I can almost pretend that being around Becca doesn’t make me feel like a livewire on the verge of explosion—jumping between all the ways I want her, and all the reasons why I shouldn’t.

But more than anything, this dinner gives me hope. And that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Stepping Stones is in a beautiful area. Tucked away in the Smokies, it has the vibe of a retreat, more than a rehabilitation center. A tranquil setting, surrounded by blooming flowers and maple trees, hiding the struggles that exist inside its walls.

It’s been a month since I dropped Pops off here. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since, and neither has Lee. We’ve been relegated to getting general updates from Mark and even those are vague.

“Dang, this place is pretty,” Lee says as we walk toward the front doors.

I hum my agreement. I would speak, but anxiety is making my tongue thick and my stomach jumbled. My mind is racing a hundred miles a minute, wondering where things are going to lead from this visit. If Pops is putting in the work to heal. If he’s mad, I brought him here in the first place. If Lee is ready to deal with whatever happens once we walk inside.

Mark meets us at the front desk and steers us to his office.

Lee’s chewing on her lip, her leg bouncing as soon as we sit down. Mark walks to the other side of his desk, his brown hair bobbing as he leans back in his office chair and smiles at Lee.

“You must be Alina. Your father’s told me a lot about you.”

She sucks in a breath. “He has?”

---