A Curve in the Road(59)

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

I pause and run my finger along the braided trim on the comforter. “Not exactly. On the upside, the surgical patient is doing fine, thank goodness, but it turns out that I might have narcolepsy.”

“Narcolepsy.” Nathan whistles. “Isn’t that where you can fall asleep unexpectedly? Even if you’re standing up?”

“That’s about the gist of it.” I cross my legs at the ankles. “I’m going for tests next week, but I’m pretty sure that’s what’s wrong with me. I thought you might like to know.”

He lets out a breath. “Gosh, Abbie, I’m really sorry to hear that. What kind of tests will they be doing?”

“It’s an overnight clinic where they’ll attach electrodes to my head and take measurements of brain activity while I’m sleeping. But the worst part is that I can’t perform any surgeries until we get this figured out. It’s too risky. So I’m just puttering around in my office at work. Not the best scenario right now, when I would prefer to be busy.”

“I totally get that.”

We’re quiet for a moment.

“But enough about me. How’s everything else? You said Marie’s in the school play. How about Jen?”

He laughs. “Oh gosh . . . let me just say that last night was not fun for me as a parent.”

“Why? What happened?” I glance at the clock and wonder if Zack is missing me yet and if he’s going to knock on the door anytime soon. I hope not, because I really want to hear about Nathan’s night.

“Jen had a friend sleep over,” he explains. “This is a new friend who moved to town recently, and she struck me as a bit rebellious. But anyway, they were watching movies in the basement, and I stayed up until about midnight just to make sure they were settled, but after I turned out the light to go to sleep, it seemed too quiet down there. And I can’t explain it, but I had a bad feeling because of a few looks they exchanged—like they were planning something.”

“This sounds bad.”

“It was. Although I suppose it could’ve been much worse. Anyway, I went to check on them at about one a.m., and the lights were out in the basement, as if they were sound asleep. But get this—those two little rascals had piled pillows under the blankets on the sofa bed and snuck out the back door.”

“Oh my gosh! What did you do?”

“Well . . . first I thought I was going to have a coronary. I was ripping mad but also terrified because I didn’t know where they were or what they were up to. Then I called Jen’s cell phone, and surprisingly, she answered. Sounded pretty nervous, though. I don’t think she expected me to get up and check on them.”

“Where was she?”

“Just down the road at the playground,” he tells me. “Perfectly safe. They thought it would be fun to go hang out there in the middle of the night without anyone knowing.”

“What did you do next?”

“I ran out to get them, of course. I brought them home, and we had a serious talk about how dangerous that was. Then I said the sleepover was over, and I drove her friend home and had to explain to the girl’s parents what happened. Not a fun moment. They were pretty good about it, but they grounded her, and she went to bed in tears. Then I took Jen home and banned sleepovers for a while. She feels pretty bad. I can tell. She’s normally such a good kid. She’s not the type to break rules, and she doesn’t like disappointing me. She apologized about a dozen times today.”

“That’s good, at least. Oh, Nathan. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. So there we have it. What a weekend. I can hardly wait for the teen years. More of this to come, no doubt.”

I push a lock of hair behind my ear, remembering what it was like with Zack. Of course, I wasn’t a single parent back then. I feel for Nathan, heading into that territory on his own.

“I won’t lie,” I say. “It’s not easy. You just have to do your best to love them through it.”

“Love them through it. I’ll try to remember that.”

The conversation soon meanders into the subject of kids with cell phones and how to manage that particular hornet’s nest.

I jump when a knock sounds at the bedroom door. I whisper to Nathan, “Just hold on a second.” Then I cup my hand over the mouthpiece and call out, “Yes? Come in!”

Zack opens the door and peers in at me. “I thought you were asleep.”

“No, I’m just talking on the phone,” I explain.

“Okay.”

He watches me for a few seconds, as if he wants to ask who I’m talking to.

I pray that he won’t ask that question, which makes me squirm inwardly, as if I’m doing something wrong by sneaking into the bedroom to call Nathan about something personal.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Zack finally says. “You should come out to the kitchen.”

“Sure,” I say with some relief that he’s not going to interrogate me. “I’ll be right there.”

He shuts the door, and I try to shake off my unease before I return my attention to Nathan. “I’m sorry. I have to get going. It was good talking to you, though.”

“It was good talking to you too, Abbie. I’m glad you called. Have a nice visit tonight.”