You're My Angel, Baby Sister.
“Don’t cry, Teddy. It’s me, Angie. I’m here now.”
“Angie?”
“Yes, it’s me. Oh, Teddy! Please don’t cry!”
I was in the room, cleaning up after one of my patients when I heard them talking. They could see me, but they were both so into their conversation that they didn’t bother to acknowledge me. I suppose it was better that way. I’d never seen two people interact that way. It was so pure, so clean. It was as though every word was simply dripping with sincerity and sweetness. In the hospital, it’s so common to hear empty words and the ever famous “it’s going to be all right.” It was refreshing, truthful.
“Tell mom and dad that I love them. Tell Frankie that I love him too, and tell him to keep practicing his batting.”
“I will. I’ll even help him. It’ll be just like old times, when we used to mess around in Mr. Jenkins’ yard.”
“Thanks a lot, Angie. You’re my angel, baby sister.”
“I love you, Teddy.”
Teddy’s eyes closed. I looked at Angela, who smiled sadly.
“Angie, Who was that?”
“I have no idea.”