“Well, that’s awfully nice. I’ll have to check with Sharon. You understand, don’t you?”

“Of course! Just let me know.”

Well, when the jury came in, the verdict read as follows: It would be a great help if I would be in charge of baskets and it would be great if I could sneak them over before the boys woke up. If I wanted to take them to the Easter egg hunt, that was fine. Church on Palm Sunday might work, he’d let us know, but for Easter Sunday, they were going to a gospel brunch at Halls Chophouse.

I outdid myself. I took them to the egg hunt and they had a ball. I let Mass on Palm Sunday slide, because they weren’t Catholics anyway. But when the sun rose on Easter Sunday, I had on a rabbit suit, complete with ears and a puffy ball tail. As soon as I saw a light go on at their house, I left their baskets by the front door and sneaked all around the house, tapping on the windows and dropping chocolate-covered eggs on the grass. The boys saw me, of course, and were hysterical laughing. They quickly came outside and chased me, and I threw little foil-wrapped chocolate marshmallow eggs at them, saying things like, No! You’re not supposed to catch the Easter Bunny! It’s very bad luck! Run away! Run away!

I had not counted on Sharon being at their house. Somehow, I had missed seeing her car. She opened the back door, standing there in some Victoria’s Secret peignoir set and stirring a mug of coffee.

“Well, Little Miss Bunny Rabbit, aren’t you just adorable?”

I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. Suddenly, I didn’t care about her anymore.

“Nice job making Easter for these boys, Sharon. Very thoughtful job. You really knocked yourself out!”

Her smile disappeared, and she arched an eyebrow at me. There was hate in those eyes.

Silence hung like something dark and terrible was building. No one spoke.

Before it became horribly awkward, I gathered up my shopping bag of chocolate rabbits and jelly beans and said, “Happy Easter, y’all! Tell your daddy the Easter Bunny was here!”

And like a true bunny would, I hopped my way home thinking Sharon might have Archie for the moment, but the boys were mine.

Chapter 13: Any Objections?

“Here’s another fun bee fact. How about honey bees don’t sleep? They stay motionless to conserve energy for the next day!” I said.

“What?” Tyler said. “That’s crazy!”

Chapter Thirteen

Any Objections?