Scars from a Memoir by Marni Mann Page A

was talking to her now. I asked her to keep me strong and to help me fight the urges. She told me I was sober, and that's all she had ever wanted. That I had fought too hard to relapse. Horns honked, and reality came rushing back to me. My heart was thumping in my chest. Angry drivers flipped me off as I stepped back onto the sidewalk. Claire's voice had turned me around. When I'd put another block between the train station and me, Claire's voice told me she was proud.
    My phone rang.
    “I'm on the corner of Commercial and Hanover Street,” Mark said.
    My feet began to move again. “I'll be there in a second.”
    “Are you OK?”
    “I think so,” I said. “Thanks…you know, for doing that for me…and for everything today.”
    “I'm always here for you.”
    Just as I climbed in the backseat, Sunshine's chin was beginning to droop. “Come here,” I said, guiding her head onto my lap. She curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
    I ran my fingers through her blonde hair. Her locks smelled like smoke and felt like they'd been soaked in olive oil. Her jeans were full of holes, and her brown, sleeveless shirt was stained. When she had to throw up, I grabbed a plastic grocery bag off the floor and held it for her. She wasn't dope sick; the rush was just too much sometimes.
    I could smell heroin in her bile. The scent was a mix of kid vitamins and vinegar, and it used to be the only fragrance my nose craved. The taste trumped that of all my favorite foods. The feeling was like a fleece blanket and a campfire on the coldest night. It wrapped me in a cocoon and wouldn't let anything else inside. I was free to explore the depths of each dream, the tingling of my muscles, and the sparks shooting from each nerve.
    “Where do I turn?” Mark asked.
    I blinked a few times to clear my vision. “At the next light.”
    He pulled down the street and into the front parking lot. I slid out from under Sunshine's head and knocked on the front door. The secretary smiled and held up a finger. By the time Mark had pulled her out of the backseat, a tech was coming out with a wheelchair. He set her on the seat and put her feet on the pads.
    “I'll come see you when they allow visitors,” I said.
    Her pupils were the size of sand, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Her lids were getting heavy; her hands gripped the side rails.
    “Hang in there,” I said. “I know you can do it.”
    Mark and I watched the tech's back as he wheeled Sunshine into the building. He moved past the front and turned down the hallway.
    “I'll pray for her,” Mark said.
    “That's all we can do.”

-9-
    MY CELL PHONE RANG just as Mark and I crossed the Tobin Bridge to the city. The clock on the dashboard showed seven. I'd forgotten that I'd sent Asher a text to meet me an hour early. When I answered, I told him I was running late and would be there soon.
    “Was that Asher?” Mark asked.
    I nodded.
    “You guys hanging out tonight?”
    I didn't want to be rude and turn up the radio, but I didn't feel like talking. This was the first time I'd had any quiet all day, and I really needed the silence. With everything that had happened with Sunshine, the fight with Roger and Sada seemed like days ago. Sunshine shooting up in the seat behind me, however, was fresh in my mind. I could still hear Claire's voice echoing in my head, stopping me from relapsing. And it made me shudder.
    “Nicole?”
    I sighed. “Yes, we're hanging out.”
    I needed to go to another meeting. Asher could walk me there and hang out at a coffee shop until it was over.
    “He was friends with your brother?”
    “His older brother dated mine, so yes.”
    “Does he have good intentions?”
    “Does it matter? I told you; we're not even dating.”
    Was that true? I didn't know what was true anymore. I wasn't strong enough to fight off heroin on my own. If I wasn't at work or at a meeting, I was with Asher. I used to spend as much time with Eric, until he died