I waited two days to tell my wife about the money we had for Mikayla's next treatment. I wanted time to come up with a good cover story and I don't think I really managed to. I didn't want my Baby Ruth to question me and think of me badly. I know why I did what I did, but that doesn't mean it'd be right in her eyes. On the other hand we've been married ten years and she trusts me and she really wants this surgery for Mickey; so I don't think I'm really going to be doubted because this is going to bring a renewed hope to our household. A joy that we haven't known for a long time.
"Ruth?" I asked the second evening I was home. Mickey was all tired out and taking a nap while we made dinner, so I felt safe to talk to her.
"Yeah?" she said.
"Can you make Mickey's appointment for the cell transplant?"
She sighed and set the knife on the counter, but wouldn't look at me so I knew she was trying not to cry, "You know we don't have the money, Bo." She said in a strained tone.
"Yeah, we do." I waited for her response, but she just ignored me, "Baby, I got the money. These past few weeks, I've been working extra hard to make money. She's gonna get the treatment."
She whirled on me, "Where did you make that much money?" which was a good question because all the debt we had to pay off as well as the down-payment for the transplant, not counting the rest of it, was at least a hundred thousand dollars.
"Work called me out on a sudden, important business trip and they paid me extra. That's why I've been gone so long, Baby...you can make her appointment and we can still make ends meet." I was pleading with her in my head to accept my story. There was a long silence and I finally realized she was crying, "What's wrong? This should make everything better, what's wrong Baby Ruth?" I asked, rubbing her arms.
She turned to look at me and her face was red from crying, "Nothing's wrong." She told me, "She's got a chance. She's gonna make it." She whispered into my neck as I held her and let her cry, "She's gonna make it."
Eventually we made dinner and woke Mikayla from her nap, but for the rest of the day I was floating on air. My wife and little girl would never know what I'd done for them, and that was fine with me, I'm not proud of it. Mickey would get her transplant and I'd never have to do it again, the transplant would fix everything. Maybe I could even pay the stores back, by donation or something. I watched the faces flash through my mind of those wonderful people I could never pay back. They'll never know exactly what they contributed to. I thought as I caught my laughing little girl in my arms.
