I’m in my office at work when I get the call from the kids’ school.
There is nothing more frightening than being called by your child’s school. There is nothing they could possibly want to tell me at one o’clock in the afternoon that is good news. The principal isn’t interrupting my workday to tell me that my kid has won a spelling bee.
They only call for bad news. Like two years ago, when Nico fell off the jungle gym and broke his arm. That was a call at one in the afternoon.
I’m in the middle of a phone call with an anxious family that I can’t seem to break away from, so I just stare at the cell phone screen, my panic mounting. By the time I manage to disentangle myself from the phone call, the call from the school has gone to voicemail. I listen to the message:
“Mrs. Accardi, this is Margaret Corkum, the principal of Frost Elementary School. Can you please give me a call back right away at ”
The principal’s voice is flat and unfriendly. This is not a call about winning a spelling bee. I quickly dial the number she gave me with a shaking hand.
“Margaret Corkum,” the voice on the other end of the line answers. “Hi?” I say into the phone. “This is Millie Accardi I got a call ” “Thank you for calling me back, Mrs. Accardi,” she says in that same
stiff tone as in the voice message. “I’m the school principal. I believe we met briefly when you took the tour of the school before your children started here.”
“Oh yes.” I vaguely remember Principal Corkum to be a pleasant, middle-aged woman with gray hair cropped short. “Is everything What’s wrong?”
“I’m calling about your son, Nicolas.” She clears her throat. “He’s fine, but I’m going to need you to come down here right away.”
I grip the phone more tightly; my fingers start to tingle. “What happened?”
She hesitates. “You really should come down here so we can talk in person. Your husband is already on his way.”
They called Enzo too? Oh God, this is not good.
I check my watch. I’m supposed to be meeting with a patient’s family in twenty minutes, but my own family has to take precedence. I can get somebody to cover for me.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell her.
