Nothing but leaves.

Eli kept his sobriety chip beside the kitchen window, where he could see it from the garden. Eight months. He had earned every one of those mornings, and he was grateful. At meetings he made the coffee, remembered the readings, and knew how to say he was doing well.

His brother’s message was three weeks old. It concerned money Eli had borrowed while drinking. Every time the message appeared, Eli felt the same flash of irritation. Didn’t eight months count for something?

On Saturday his granddaughter brought a basket to the tomato plants. They lifted the thick leaves together. There were no tomatoes ready to pick. “We’ll try again,” she said, setting the empty basket by the back step.

Eli stayed outside after she went in. The garden brought back the question about fruit in the Deepen episode. He knew his sober days mattered. He also knew he had been using them to end a conversation his brother still needed to have.

That afternoon he told his sponsor about the message, including the part where he felt entitled to be forgiven. They talked through what Eli actually owed, what he could responsibly promise, and whether contacting his brother would be welcome. Eli crossed a long explanation out of his notebook.

When his brother agreed to a call, Eli named the amount and the broken promise. He offered a repayment plan he could keep. His brother said he wanted the payments, but he wasn’t ready to spend time together. Eli felt an argument rising. He took a breath and said he understood.

Afterward, he prayed at the kitchen sink. He asked Jesus for help becoming honest when honesty brought no applause. Then he set up the first payment. It was smaller than he wished, and it was real.

The chip stayed beside the window. His eight months had not become less precious. Beside them now sat a notebook with a date, an amount, and a promise he would have to keep again next month.