make a diluted version of lunch.
Susan snapped apart the latches and opened the briefcase. She pressed a hand to her mouth and shrieked. Inside the briefcase were stacks of hundred dollar bills. Too many stacks. She touched one of the piles with trembling fingers. It looked real. She tried to imagine the amount and quickly realized it must’ve been millions.
Just then an eighteen-month-old girl with chocolate brown skin staggered up to Susan wearing nothing but a diaper. Susan scooped her up and dropped the girl on her knee.
“Hey there, Tasha,” Susan said, following the toddler’s eyes to the briefcase.
“Yes,” Susan said. “It’s a gift from God.”
Tasha lifted an envelope from the mound of money and shook it.
“What’s this?” Susan asked, taking a pack of bills and handing it to the girl in trade for the envelope. The girl seemed agreeable to the exchange.
Susan opened the envelope and read the note inside:
HUG A BABY FOR ME.
LOVE, TOMMY
Susan’s eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t even dream of what this meant for her children. Susan coddled Tasha in her arms. “Baby, I think we’re going to get you some shoes today.”
