Page 25 of Curveball
Natalie knocks quietly on the frame of my open door and takes a hesitant step forward.
“Ms. Sloan, do you have a minute?”
I close the file I’m working on and give her my attention. “I do. Is everything all right?”
She takes another step toward me, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. I just got done with softball practice and I had a missed call from Dilly.”
I pucker my brow. “Dilly?”
“Um, Adele Mulligan. My grandma.”
I nod my head in understanding, thoughwhat does her call have to do with me?
“Of course. So, did you call her back?”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. She’s at the emergency room.” The girl wrings the straps of the bat bag hanging from her shoulder.
I stand from my chair. “Oh, no. What happened? Is she okay?” I shake my head becausePalmer Sloan, that is overreaching.“I’m sorry, don’t answer that. I’m just finishing for the day. How can I help?”
“No, it’s fine. She left a voicemail. I guess she fell and hurt her right ankle pretty bad so she called an ambulance.”
I step around the desk and wrap her in a hug. “Oh, honey. What can I do? Do you need a ride somewhere? Maybe home, or to the hospital?”
Natalie nods, slowly, as though piecing together the process of getting . . . anywhere. “My dad’s away so she’s staying at my house this week. But she’s not there right now, I guess.”
I’ve been neatening my desk as she speaks, folding notebooks closed, stacking file folders. I reach for my purse from the lower desk drawer and my sweater from the back of my chair. “I don’t mind at all. Does she need to get picked up?”
“I don’t even know how bad she is,” the girl says through threatening tears. “Would you mind driving me to see her?”
The girl is absolutely distraught. I take her in my arms again, but her bulky backpack prevents me from patting her back. I settle for her shoulder.
“I’m sure everything will be fine and she’ll be back to her same ol’ self in no time. Let’s just get there and see if she’s ready to leave.”
The distance to the hospital is relatively short, but rush hour is coming on, and traffic is slow. By the time we reach the entrance to the hospital complex, Natalie has received another call from her grandmother, and the older woman’s being released. The difference in Natalie’s demeanor is immediate. Her relief is palpable, and she’s back to the happy, energetic girl I know.
I feel as though I’ve also received a reprieve. I’ve witnessed Natalie in general teenage emotional turmoil and no, thank you. I’ll pass on a reenactment.
We spot her grandmother waiting on a bench in the pick-up area. I pull the car over and when the woman stands with the aid of crutches, Natalie throws open her door and hops out to help her in.
I pivot to face the woman as she settles herself on the back seat of my car and buckles in.
“Hello again. I see you took a bit of a tumble.”
“I guess I did. It was stupid, really. Just carelessness.”
“We’ll get you home as quickly as we can.” I turn to my co-pilot. “Natalie, I’m going to need directions to your house.”
The girl bounces back around and faces forward. “I’ll plug it in your GPS.”
She fiddles with the device for a few minutes until the first instruction comes out over the speaker. Then, she turns back to her grandmother.
“Dilly, you scared me to death. You promised Daddy you wouldn’t kill me, but that didn’t mean you can try to kill yourself instead.”
Adele just shakes her head.
“Pshh, girl. It’s a minor break. More like a cracked bone, probably, but you know doctors—always being dramatic.”
The woman gives Natalie an eyeroll, and me a self-deprecating smile. From what I’ve witnessed in the past, she’s normally capable and alert.
