A Party for Annie
“Annie wants a birthday party with balloons. Six year olds like pink cake and ballerinas,” Jill instructed, her voice trailing off in a drug induced slumber.
Owen peered over the bed rail at his crumpled wife and he dialed his sister’s cell phone.
Answering on the first ring Cheryl’s speech was pressured, “Tell me it isn’t time. Oh God, no. It’s snowing but I can get there.”
“No, stop. The doc says she has three days. Will you make a ballerina cake for Annie’s birthday?’
“Of course but her birthday isn’t until June.”
“Tomorrow, we will have a party tomorrow at the hospital park. Jill can see it from her window.” he sobbed.
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