A Curve in the Road (Page 8)

All I can do is nod my head. Then I do something I don’t want to do but that must be done. I pick up my phone and dial Jeremy’s parents’ number to deliver the worst news possible and ask for their help.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jeremy’s parents, David and Maureen, are devastated to learn what happened to Alan. Maureen cries on the phone and tells me repeatedly how sorry she is. She wants to help in any way she can.

I ask her to go over to my house and get Zack. “I have to tell him tonight because it’s probably going to be on the news and I don’t want him to find out that way. And I don’t want him to spend the night alone either. He needs to be with people who care about him.”

“Of course,” Maureen replies. “I’ll take Jeremy with me. We’ll go over there right now and ring the doorbell.”

“Thank you so much, Maureen,” I reply. “I’m about to call him, so he’s going to be upset when you get there. Please do what you can. Give him a hug, stay by his side.”

“You know I will. He’s like a son to me, Abbie. We’ll take good care of him, I promise. And whatever else you need, just say the word. We’re here for you.”

I think about that for a moment. “There is something, actually. Maybe in the morning, as soon as the weather clears, could you drive him down here? I think it would be best if we stayed in Lunenburg with my mom for a few days while we come to grips with all of this. And there are so many arrangements that need to be taken care of.”

I can’t bear to think of what I’ll have to face in the coming days, like deciding where to hold the funeral and where to bury Alan. He and I have wills, and we always knew we wanted to be buried together, but we never reached a final decision about where that would be. We thought we had lots of time to figure that out. And what about the obituary? I’ll have to call our friends and family and think about a headstone. I have no idea how I’m going to get through it all.

Maureen tells me to take care and to call if I need anything.

We hang up, and I breathe deeply to summon the courage to dial Zack’s number. He picks up right away.

“Mom. I’ve been waiting. What’s happening? Are you in Halifax yet?”

I shut my eyes and try to speak in a steady voice. “No, honey. I’m still in Lunenburg, and I have some news. I’m afraid it’s not good.” I take a shaky breath. “Your father had a lot of internal bleeding, and he was in really bad shape. The helicopter arrived to pick him up, but we couldn’t get him there in time. The doctors and nurses did everything they could, but . . . but he didn’t make it, honey.”

The silence is ominous.

“What do you mean he didn’t make it?” Zack finally asks.

My throat clenches so tight I can barely get air into my lungs. “He didn’t make it,” I say again in a shaking voice. “He died, sweetheart.”

There’s another long pause. “What do you mean? He can’t be dead.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. It was a very bad accident. Worse than we thought.”

“No!” Zack sobs. “It’s not true. It can’t be!”

I cover my mouth with my hand, smothering a sob of my own because it breaks my heart to know that my son is suffering and I’m not there to hold him and comfort him.

“We did everything we could,” I explain, “but he was badly hurt.”

Zack’s voice quavers. “You were there?”

“Yes. I helped as much as I could, and I tried my best. We all did. There was nothing anyone could do.”

I listen to the sound of my son crying, and soon we are crying together. I can’t stop the tears. They pour down my cheeks in a terrible flood of despair.

“Did he say anything to you?” Zack asks when we collect ourselves. “Did he know he was dying?”

I pull myself together and try to answer honestly. “No. He was unconscious by the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital. He never woke up after that.”

I hear the doorbell ring in the background.

“Someone’s here,” Zack says.

“It’s Maureen,” I tell him. “I asked her to stop by. Go and let her in.”

“No, Mom. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.”

“Try to calm down, Zack. Take a slow, deep breath in. Good. Now another.”

“Okay. I’m going to go let her in.”

I listen as he gets up and answers the door. I hear Maureen’s loving voice, and I know that she is hugging my son. Jeremy’s there too. I listen to them talking, and I’m so thankful they’re all together.

Zack returns to the phone. “Mom? I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do either, honey. I’m stuck here because they want to keep me overnight for observation, and the weather is too risky to venture out anyway. But Gram’s here, and she’s taking good care of me. I’ve asked Maureen to drive you here first thing in the morning when the roads are clear. You’ll have to miss some school.”

He sniffles, and his voice shakes. “I still can’t believe this. How can he be gone? I’m never going to see him again?”

The question squeezes at my heart. “You’ll see him . . . at the wake. We’ll have an open casket, and you’ll be able to say goodbye.”

Zack breaks down completely. “Oh God . . . Mom . . . !”

“I’m so sorry, Zack. I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t believe any of this either, but we’ll get through it together. It’s going to be rough for a while, but at least we have each other. Don’t forget that. You know how much I love you.”

“I do, Mom.” He’s quiet for a moment. “But are you okay? You were in the accident too.”

I sniff and rub under my nose. “I’m totally fine. Please don’t worry.”

“Did they at least find Winston?” Zack asks.

I shut my eyes. “Not yet, but they’re still looking. I’m sure they’ll find him soon.”

But how can I say that when I don’t know for sure? After everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t help but fear the worst.

Dr. Sanders walks in and sees me on the phone. He points to his own head, indicating that he wants to examine the gash above my hairline.

I nod at him and say to Zack, “Listen, I have to hang up now. The doctor’s here. I’d like you to sleep at Jeremy’s tonight, and I’ll call you a little later, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” he says. “I love you. Please call back soon.”

“I will, and I love you too, honey. More than anything.”

We hang up, and Dr. Sanders approaches to ask me some questions about my head. He grows concerned when he learns I was just sick in the bathroom, and he makes sure I understand that I need to stay for overnight observation.

“No one should be going anywhere in this storm anyway,” he adds, as if he knows how badly I want to go home and be with my son.

I have no choice but to agree, and the nurses are kind enough to offer my mother a bed to sleep on.

They are in the process of wheeling me out of the ER to a private room when I see my paramedic, Carrie, walking toward me with a look of concern. She’s talking on her cell phone, nodding her head, and somehow I know that she’s speaking to the first responder, Troy, and there’s news about Winston. My belly turns over with panic. For yet the hundredth time on this cursed night.

CHAPTER NINE

Carrie approaches. “I’m so sorry about your husband, Abbie. I really am.” She walks beside my wheelchair and gives my shoulder a gentle rub.

“Thank you.”

“But I thought you might like to know that I have Troy on the phone. He found Winston.”

I lay a hand over my heart. “Oh, thank goodness.”

Then I realize that Carrie isn’t smiling, and I’m not sure how much more heartbreak I can handle. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

The porter angles the wheelchair in front of the elevator door and pushes the button.

“He’s alive,” Carrie tells me. “But you should talk to Troy.”

She hands me the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Abbie?” Troy asks.

“Yes.”

“I heard about your husband. I’m so sorry.”

I fight another onslaught of tears and reply shakily, “Thank you.”

Troy pauses a few seconds. “I have good news and bad news. The good news is that we found Winston.”

“Where?” I ask, needing to know all the details but not wanting to hear the bad news just yet. I pray it’s not what I fear. I don’t know if I can take another hard blow at the moment.

“Near the off-ramp on the way back to town. We think he might have tried to follow the ambulance, but he gave up and collapsed by the side of the road.”

“Oh God.” I break down again. More tears stream down my cheeks because I can’t bear to think about how distraught and frightened Winston must have been as he chased after the ambulance. Did he think I’d abandoned him? Or that I was in trouble and needed him?

“It’s lucky we found him,” Troy says. “We’d just about given up the search because the weather was getting worse. We were on our way back to town when we spotted him. He was lying under a streetlight.”