When Jim eased open the van door, the kids tumbled out, and Jim felt so tired he barely registered Philip, teary eyed and feverish, slip from his car seat and make a beeline straight for the busy street. Jim had baby Laura in his arms, and Cece precariously balanced on his shoulders, he couldn’t move. All he could think of was Pam, sitting, eyes glazed over in the car. She wasn’t going to move. He knew it with a cold wrench in his stomach. He twisted sharply and dropped his girls to the grassy yard, running at top speed toward the street. Only to be passed by Pam.
Jim knew Pam had played some sports in high school, but he hadn’t known she could run like this. Then again it was an emergency. She easily scooped up Philip and jogged back to Jim and the kids before Jim could even blink. The moment the two made eye contact, Jim knew something was up. His wife wasn’t sick.