Four Visits a Day
For two days, Jessica brought Emmett four times daily. Sometimes the boy napped on Dale’s chest. Sometimes they watched cartoons on Dale’s phone. Sometimes Emmett tried new words.
“Bike,” Emmett said, pointing to a patch on the vest.
“That’s a motorcycle,” Dale said. “I used to ride.”
“Dale sick?” Emmett asked.
“Yeah, buddy. Real sick.”
“Make better?”
Tears filled Dale’s eyes. “Can’t fix all of it, little man. But sitting with you makes me feel better where it counts.”
Emmett patted his chest. “Heart better.”
