A hand grasped his and trembled, then squeezed.
A first-timer maybe, scared shitless?
Holding hands during the Serenity Prayer wasn’t mandatory anymore after COVID had ripped through the planet. It was never truly mandatory, but everyone did it.
Now it was somewhat…not shocking…but rare.
The hand squeezed again, rhythmically.
The eyes that belonged to the same body as the hand were bright, alert, her voice strong as she recited the words of the prayer.
She wasn’t newly sober.
Friendly? Ok, Frey could accept that.
The prayer over, the meeting over except for stacking chairs, he smiled at the young woman and turned to leave.
She squeezed harder.
“You’re the most wonderful man who ever walked this planet.”
Frey would have howled loud enough to shatter the stained glass windows in the basement of St.Benedict’s, but he didn’t want to draw attention. It hurt to swallow his laughter.
“You quite obviously,” he said, “have me mistaken for someone else.”
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