Page 49 of High Sticks

I nodded. "Yeah, I am. And it feels damn good to share it with you."

As we walked back into town, I thought about how far I'd come—not just in miles, but in my overall life journey. Hannah’s approval was the cherry on top, solid validation that I was on the right path.

As we neared the B&B, Hannah was suddenly serious. "So, how's the rehab journey? Have you been diligent with it?"

"A year and a couple of months sober," I admitted. "Got a great sponsor, and I even attend group meetings."

I watched a massive wave of relief pass over her face. "I was so worried, Hoss. I thought I would lose you, but seeing how you're managing life here, I can breathe a whole lot easier."

I grinned. "How about I introduce you to the group tonight? I’ve got a meeting, and you can see it firsthand."

"Are you sure it's okay for me to come?" Hannah looked a little unsure.

"Absolutely. The group is open to friends and family occasionally. It's good for everybody to understand what we're going through," I assured her.

After dinner with Pete, I met Hannah at the Community Center.

We walked into a room full of folding chairs arranged in a circle. A few familiar faces looked up and smiled. They were used to seeing me, but the presence of a guest—especially someone as vibrant as Hannah—made heads turn.

"This is my sister, Hannah,” I announced as we took our seats.

"Welcome, Hannah. It's always good to see supportive family members," greeted Mike, our group leader. "Well, folks, let's get started. Anyone wants to kick us off?"

The room fell into a hush before someone finally spoke. As the meeting progressed, stories of hardship and triumph filled the air. When it was my turn, I looked over at Hannah before speaking.

"It's been a tough but transformative journey, as most of you know. Today, my sister is here, seeing this part of my life for the first time. And it feels...really good to show her that I've found a community, a second family, who gets what I'm going through."

I glanced at Hannah, and I saw that her eyes were a bit watery, but she was smiling. During our break, my support group buddies swarmed her, each one of them offering a kind word about me or a piece of their story. She absorbed it all, taking in all the stories of struggle and resilience.

When the meeting came to an end, Mike took a small, wooden token from a box and walked over to me. "Hoss, this is for you—acknowledging not just your journey but the role you've played in this group. You're an inspiration to us all."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I accepted the token. Hannah stood beside me, clapping softly, her eyes glistening. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, so only I could hear.

We stepped out of the Community Center into the chilly evening air, a sharp contrast to the warmth that had filled the room just moments ago. "Wow, Hoss, that was...more than I expected," Hannah admitted.

"Glad you came?"

"Absolutely. It's one thing to hear you're doing well, but it’s another to see it.” After we walked a few steps, she added, "But I've got to ask. You're an assistant coach now, not a player. Was it hard to give up playing?"

I chuckled. "You mean besides the ego-bruising reality check? You bet. But, you know, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Let's just say, being a coach helps me focus on something other than myself. When I was a player, everything was about me—my performance, my stats, my ego. Now, it's about the team. I’m go in every day to teach them and guide them. It's kinda therapeutic."

She nodded, but a serious expression suddenly appeared. "You know, it's funny. All these years, I've been the 'responsible' one. I’ve been the one who had her shit together. And, you know what, it's exhausting doing that.”

I looked at her, genuinely surprised. "You? You're like the poster child for successful adulting.”

She laughed, but the sound had a hint of sadness. “Honestly, the poster child is a little tired. Mom and Dad depend on me for almost everything. Work's a beast. I've been the crisis manager for everybody, and sometimes I worry that I won’t be able to handle it for much longer.”

"Wow, Kath, why didn't you say something earlier?"

“I didn't want to add to your already full plate. You’ve been fighting your own battles. Tonight, what I saw shows things have changed. You're not merely surviving, little brother. You’re thriving in a big way. It takes some of the weight off my shoulders.”

We reached her B&B. She turned to me, her expression softer but still full of that indomitable spirit that made her my hero. "It's your turn to be the strong one, Hoss.”

I grinned and pulled her into a hug. "How about we be strong for each other?"

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