Erika
“Mom! You made it!”
I looked up from the resort map to see my daughter rushing towards me on the path. She pulled me into a tight hug, and I squeaked as she pressed against what I was guessing was a nice bruise forming on my side from where I’d landed on the hood of that guy’s car. My knees and thighs were throbbing, telling me those were banged up too.
That guy, whoever he was, he might be a shitty driver, but he was hot as hell. I guessed he was close to my age, judging by the streaks of gray in his dark brown hair and neatly trimmed beard. Laugh lines had bracketed his almond shaped brown eyes. Even dressed in dress pants and a white button down shirt, it was obvious that he was lean and fit. I’d seen the bulge of his biceps as he’d helped me off the car, and I couldn’t help but notice his flat abs and trim waist.
Unlike a lot of guys our age, he clearly took care of himself.
If I’d been here alone – and if he hadn’t hit me with his damn car – I’d probably have thought harder about taking him up on his offer for dinner. The look of interest in his eyes was unmistakable, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t felt the same glimmer of attraction. But I was here at the Mountain Ridge Resort for my daughter. There was nothing that would take my attention away from helping make her wedding weekend special.
April stepped back and I accepted a hug from her fiancé Jonathon, wincing when he inadvertently touched the sore spot. My daughter studied me, taking in the smudges of dirt on my shirt and jeans.
“Are you okay Mom?”
My first thought was that she was implying that I’d relapsed, but I pushed away that insecure thought. After eight years of sobriety, it wasn’t impossible that I’d relapse, but it was much less likely than it had been in the early days after I’d first graduated treatment. April had seen how committed I was to staying clean. Her question must have come because she’d seen me wince in pain.
“I’m fine, someone just hit me with their car.”
“What?!?!” my daughter screeched.
“Are you okay?” Jonathon asked at the same time. He looked like he wanted to go find the person and beat them up for me.
“Yeah.” I shrugged dismissively, not wanting to make a fuss.
“Some asshole was talking on his phone and not looking where he was going. He pulled into a parking spot at a fast pace just as I was walking through it. I had to jump onto the hood of his car to keep from getting run over or crushed between his car and the one in front of him.”
April put her arm around me. “Holy crap, that’s scary. Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe the resort has a nurse on site or something.”
I nodded. “That’s not necessary. I can feel a nice bruise coming up and I’m a little sore from landing on the car, but I’m sure I’ll be okay after I take a hot bath. Don’t worry.”
“Do you want some ibuprofen or something?” April asked.
“No thanks. I don’t take any painkillers, ever.”
My daughter’s cheeks reddened as she realized her faux pas.
Painkillers had been the start of my problems all those years ago. I’d been in a car accident that caused significant trauma to my back and neck. Back then, doctors had prescribed opioid pain medication like candy, and soon I was hooked on them, taking them by the handful. As my tolerance to the pain pills built up, I’d turned to alcohol and pot to help manage my pain and keep the high that I craved. Of course, I knew now it wasn’t about the pain from the car accident. I was numbing the pain of something that had happened to me when I was much younger. But back then, I was sure the car accident injuries were my problem.
My husband, ex-husband now, had been a saint. He’d put up with me as long as he could, trying to get me help, but I wasn’t ready. I thought I had a handle on everything. Him kicking me out and divorcing me wasn’t rock bottom. Him getting full custody of April wasn’t rock bottom either. Rock bottom had still been a few years away.
I pulled myself out of my maudlin thoughts and focused my attention on my daughter.
“What do you need help with, honey?” I asked.
“The wedding planner has everything under control I think,” April responded. “We’re doing a family only dinner tonight in the Spruce Ridge Tavern, then tomorrow we’re mostly free until the wedding rehearsal at five o’clock. I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a run with me tomorrow morning? They’ve got some incredible trails around the resort that I’d love to check out.”
One of the things April and I had discovered we had in common was running. She’d joined the track team in high school, but Jack and I were already divorced by then and I was too deep in my addiction to pay attention to my daughter. I’d discovered running during my six-month stay at the treatment center. Running became a good way to push aside the cravings and work through the emotions I used to numb with drugs. To this day, I ran at least five times a week.