“She couldn’t hold her head up.” “Then she slid right out of the chair.”
I froze. The man continued. “I called your son.” “He said she had too much wine.”
“But I watched for almost an hour.” “Nobody helped her up.” Then he told me he had already called for medical help once.
Jason had met the paramedics at the door and sent them away. I called 911 immediately.
Then I walked to the house. Jason opened the door. “Dad.” “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Where is your mother?” “She’s upstairs resting.” “She’s been tired.” I pushed past him.
On the stairs, Megan appeared. “Robert, you scared us.” “Where is Linda?”
“She’s sleeping.” “She asked not to be disturbed.” I looked at her. “My wife has not answered me in four days.”
Jason came up behind me. “Dad, you’re making this bigger than it is.” I kept walking.
Linda was lying in the upstairs guest room with the curtains closed. She looked pale.
Weak. Smaller than I remembered. When I turned on the lamp, her eyes opened.
“Robert,” she whispered. The relief in her face told me everything. I sat beside her.
“I’m here.” “Help is coming.” Jason appeared in the doorway. “She had a reaction to something.”
“We were handling it.” I turned toward my son. “Don’t say another word.”
At the hospital, doctors found a prescription sedative in Linda’s system.
