On the Sidelines at 40 Plus: A Nag Not Meant for a Prince

“A guest?!” comes an indignant voice from behind the slightly open door, and I involuntarily draw my head toward my shoulders.
“Well, not exactly,” stretches my new acquaintance, but she doesn’t get a chance to explain.
“Another dumb friend? You’ve only just arrived. And where did she come from?”
“You won’t believe it… From the roadside and… I mean, um…”
Lisa defends herself more and more quietly, and I want to run.
“Don’t tell me you hit someone,” rumbles the owner of the house.

Unable to take it anymore, I jump up from the sofa and head for the exit. What if… if he decides to help his little girl hide the body, I don’t want to check.

I’m forty-plus with a decent amount to spare, but I’ve always considered myself fairly happy. Until, the day before New Year, my established life collapsed.

Loss of my job, problems with my son, an ultimatum from my ex. Are you all in cahoots?! I ended up on the roadside—and in every sense of the word. For what? Right! To get run over by the wheels of a gorgeous car.

A rich girl who knocked me down decided to remove the problem with a rather unusual method. She dragged me to her tough father…