We all know what it’s like to get that phone call in the middle of the night. This night’s call was no different.
Jerking up to the ringing summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight. Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the receiver.
“Hello?” My heart pounded; I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face my side of the bed.
“Mama?” I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter.
When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.
“Mama, I know it’s late, but don’t…don’t say anything, until I finish. And before you ask, yes, I’ve been drinking. I nearly ran off the road a few miles back, and…”
I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn’t right.