I stepped off the bus, determined to bypass the liquor store between me and the noon AA meeting. A block later, I sat on a bench, opened a can of tomato juice, and added vodka. Then, holding my thumb over the open tab, I shook the can. I could almost taste it, nearly feel that sense of ease and comfort.

“Hey there!” Dieter’s voice rang out. I froze with the can in midair as if I’d triggered a landmine.