“Because it was the only bunny costume he could find. When the children saw him, they started laughing. And Lily smiled for the first time in weeks.”
I looked at my husband.
In all the years I had known him, that man had never
But what about the $18,000?” I asked.
John finally spoke.
“That’s the money I took from our account. I donated all of it to the treatment fund for Lily and the other children. And I’ve been saving the money I earn here so I can replace our savings.”
He showed me the cash in the handbag and the payment receipts.
“Mary, I know I was wrong. I should have asked you first. But when I saw that little girl,
I remembered our Emily.”
Hearing that name made my heart
ache.
Thirty-five years earlier, we had lost our newborn daughter.
John never spoke about her.
“I’ve always thought,” he continued, “if our Emily had survived and one day found herself all alone, I would have wanted someone to help her. I just couldn’t turn my back on Lily.”
Susan led us to the little girl’s room.
When Lily saw John, she cried out with joy.
“Daddy Bunny! You came!”
John walked over to her, and the little girl wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“Guess what? The doctor said I might be able to go back home to Grandma soon!”
My husband burst into tears.
Then Lily noticed me.
“Who’s that lady?”
“That’s my wife, Mary.”
The little girl smiled.
“Can she be Mommy Bunny?”
I knelt beside her bed.
“Of course, sweetheart. Next time, we’ll come together.”
That evening, on our way home, John apologized to me.
