Later that night, after the kids were in bed, Laura talked to John about her concerns. "John, I'm worried about Nick."
John looked up from the stack of papers he had brought home to work on. "Nick? Why?"
"Well, it might be nothing but…." She told him about her discovery of Nick's un-slept-in bed and the sleeping bag in his closet. "I just thought it was odd… he couldn't have slept in his bed since last week when I made it after doing the wash."
"Maybe Nick's just been playing a game… you know, pretending he's sleeping in a tent. I used to do that all the time when I was kid; I'd prop a blanket up on chairs and things and crawl in with my sleeping bag."
"But for a whole week?"
"I might have stayed in there every night if my parents had let me."
"But why would Nick hide it from us?"
"I don't know, little boys sometimes hide things from their parents."
"What if Nick hasn't slept in his bed since he came back from the hospital?
"What? That's impossible, we would have noticed."
"Maybe not. We're both so busy and… the last several times I've washed the sheets Nick has stripped his bed himself and brought the sheets out to me. And he's always up and dressed when I go to wake him up in the mornings. Before I practically had to drag him out of bed, but since he came back from the hospital…"
"So what are you suggesting? He was in the hospital over a month ago. You don't think he's slept in his bed that whole time? What possible reason could he have for that?"
"I don't know John! That's why I'm worried." They sat in silence for a while, before Laura voiced her real fear. "Maybe he doesn't want to sleep in his bed because of what happened."
John stared down at his work and shuffled some papers. The same thought had been going through his own head, but he hadn't wanted to say it. "I thought it was over… I thought Nick was okay…" John's voice was pleading, asking his wife to reassure him, to tell him there was some mistake, that it really was over, that Nick was doing fine and they could forget about what happened and move on with their lives.
Laura looked back at John, and her eyes likewise begged him not to make her say the words that would dispel the fantasy they had been living in. John sighed, and reached over and held Laura to him, and she clung to him, burying herself in his protective embrace. Trying not to cry, she voice what they both had been thinking. "Will this ever be over?"
After a long silence, John said, "Let's talk to Nick tomorrow. Then we can decide what to do."
The next evening after dinner Laura and John called Nick into the living room. The other kids were busy with their homework and social lives. "Sit down Nick, your mother and I want to talk with you."
"What's wrong?" Nick asked, racking his brain to think of some mischief that he could be in trouble for. Several incidents came to mind, but he couldn't think of any way his parents could have found out about them.
His father took a deep breath, the asked, "Have you been sleeping in your bed Nick?" Nick flinched, trying to keep his face straight and innocent. He hadn't expected that. But, how could they know? They couldn't, unless…
"Where else would I sleep?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.
"Please answer me Nick. You're not in trouble. We just need to know if you've been sleeping in your bed."
"Yeah, I have. Why?" Nick asked, hoping he sounded puzzled.
"Nick, sweetie," his mother said gently "you're not in trouble. We really need you to tell us the truth."
Nick sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and pulling his legs up. "Well it sounds like you've all ready decided what the truth is, why bother asking me," he muttered.
"Nicholas!" his father said sharply.
Nick scowled, then plunged ahead recklessly. "Well it's true. You asked me, but you didn't really want an answer cause you all ready made up your mind what the truth was. It doesn't matter what I have to say."
"Loose the attitude, Nick." Nick hunched his shoulders and put his head on his knees. John sighed. "Your mother found your sleeping bag unrolled in your closet, and your bed perfectly made. Can you explain that to me?"
Nick pulled himself in tighter and didn't look up. Laura went over and sat next to him. "Nick, honey," she said, reaching out and stroking his back. Nick pulled away from her touch. "What's wrong Nick? What's going on? Your father and I are worried about you. We aren't mad, we just want to know if something is bothering you, that you aren't sleeping in your bed."
Nick relaxed slightly, letting his mother rub his back. "It was just a game," he muttered softly, hoping they would believe him.
"How long has it been since you slept in your bed?" John asked.
Nick shrugged, thinking fast. How much did they know? What would they believe? "Have you… have you slept in your bed since you got back from the hospital?" Laura felt Nick tense under her hand. "Nick?"
Nick felt his eyes fill up, and he squeezed them tight. Why couldn't it just go away? Why couldn't they leave him alone; pretend, like him, that it had never happened. Suddenly he wanted to be four years old again, when there was nothing his mother's hugs couldn't cure, nothing his father's arms couldn't protect him from. He felt himself shaking his head and he kept shaking it, giving up control, letting his parents deal with everything. He turned and through his arms around his mother's neck and let the tears come.
Laura put her arms around Nick and let him sob on her shoulder, gently rubbing his back. John came over and stroked his hair. After a while, Nick's sobs calmed and his breathing slowed. John picked Nick up gently. "Put him in our bed," Laura said. John nodded. "I'll call Dr. Z tomorrow," he said softly.