When your husband gets a concussion in the middle of a pandemic

My daughter and I were in our pjs and watching “Nailed It,” the show that celebrates hilarious baking failures, when my phone rang.

“Oh! It’s daddy,” I said, and was then surprised when his friend Connor’s voice greeted me from the other end of the line.

My husband, Jordan, has been biking for years. Here he is on a ride in New York’s Hudson Valley a few years back.

My husband, Jordan, and his friend, Connor, have a tradition of weekend morning bike rides in Prospect Park; in the age of coronavirus, they’ve kept this tradition going, albeit while staying six feet apart from each other at all times. Exercise is essential to keeping Jordan’s spirits up. After a workout, he’s cheerful and centered, and our whole family feels the ripple effects.

“Amanda. Hey. It’s Connor. Jordan had an accident…”

I was now a beat behind time as it unspooled, trying to catch up.

“He passed out. He’s awake now, but he can’t remember the things I tell him for more than 15 seconds.The cops are here. They called an EMT.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “Nailed It” was still playing on TV, and my daughter, Ali, age 7, was asking, “What is it, mommy?”

I said, as steadily as possible, “You watch your show, baby. Mommy’s going to talk in the other room.”