“Yeah, well, I guess you were right about that,” I said, as Eric reached for my hand. I tugged it away, clasping my hands together in my lap.
“You were right about the other, too,” Eric said. “You saidrat.”
“A traitor,” Stuart said. “That boy.”
“Bruce. Yeah.” I reached for my husband’s hand. “How about that? Do you remember that?”
“No. None of it.”
“You were warning us,” I said. “And we had no idea.”
“How could you have?” Stuart asked. “The way you described it sounds like nonsense.” He was speaking slowly, his throat still raw from lack of use. “That’s over, right? It was something that happened in the coma because I’d been hit by some mystical whammy.”
“Who knows,” Eric said. “But it’s a good guess. The few cases I found that seemed similar to yours—and basically there were none—ended when the patient woke up. Or died,” he added with a shrug.
“You found more cases?”
“Only one,” Eric told me. “A woman in the sleep of death, they called it. But she woke up after a month. No more cryptic sleepwalking.”
“Too bad,” Stuart said, looking at me. “As strange as the idea is, it would be nice to finally be some real help around here.”
* * *
Except for Stuart, who was stretched out on a sofa we’d pulled into the room, we were all gathered around the dining table finishing up another update and brainstorming session when Laura and Cutter returned with Timmy, Eddie, Rita, Fran, and four-year-old Elena.
“Momma! Momma!” Timmy called.
“Baby!” I raced forward then scooped him into my arms, relishing the way he hugged me so tight he could probably break a rib.
“I went with Allie and Bruce and his friend in the car. Bruce played a Bad Guys game.”
“I know. He’s very good at that game.”
“Miss Fran gave me ice cream.”
“Lucky for you. Did you bring me any?” I looked at his hands as if searching for a cone.
“Momma.That’s silly. Ice cream melts.”
“Good point.” I gave him another squeeze, not wanting to put him down, but knowing I had to. “Guess what else? I have a big surprise for you.”
“Yay! What is it?”
I turned him around to see Stuart, pretty sure that he hadn’t overheard that his dad had awakened in all the commotion with Bruce.
“Daddy!”
I put him down, and he ran to Stuart as I cried for him to be gentle because Daddy still didn’t feel well.
“Okay, Momma,” he said, climbing up on the couch to snuggle with his father, who winced a little through his smile.
It’s fine,he mouthed to me.It’s great.
My youngest now safe with his dad, I took a moment to savor, then turned to Fran, Eddie, and Rita.
“What’s all the talk about Bruce playing the bad guy?” Eddie asked.
“They all insisted on coming,” Laura called from where she’d already settled in at the table, her laptop still there from the morning.
