Hope's Toy Chest

by Marissa Dobson

  “It’s not just my story to tell.” That was just an excuse, and he knew it.

  “It was a thought. I’m sorry I asked.” She stood up, rubbing her hands together as if unsure what to do with herself.

  “No, it’s okay. I’d just rather not talk about it. I’m not sure Elizabeth would be okay with that.” More excuses.

  She nodded. “Well, I’d better get busy.”

  “Your room full of toys is overflowing. I don’t think there are enough children in the whole hospital for all that.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “There are some children outside the hospital we’re delivering to this year as well. If what you say is true, there are going to be some very happy children.” She grinned, moving around the sofa. “So where’s the stuff?”

  “First bedroom on the right. The door’s open. Trust me, you can’t miss it. You might want to bring them out here to sort and wrap, because you’re not going to have room to do it in there.” He placed his cup on the table, deciding the files could wait an hour or two. “Would you like some help?”

  She smirked. “Sure. Extra hands are good. I never turn them away.” Without waiting for him, she strolled down the hall.

  He cursed himself for offering to help. There was a little girl depending on him to find a miracle, and he couldn’t do that if he was busy wrapping gifts.

  She came out with her arms loaded. “You weren’t kidding.” She placed the toys on the coffee table. “There’s so much in there every kid on the list should get what they want. It’s going to be a very good Christmas for some deserving children.”

  “That’s wonderful. It makes the unexpected visitors, calls, and packages left on my doorstep worth it.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to have such an impact on your life. I just don’t have room to store it in my small apartment. Elizabeth said you wouldn’t mind. How did she wrap you into helping anyway? No pun intended.”

  When she winked, he laughed. “Elizabeth is very good at guilt. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy helping when it comes to wrapping the gifts. I just wasn’t completely on board with this taking over my house. I’m rarely home except to sleep, so it just seemed like an additional worry I didn’t have time for.”

  “I’m sorry.” She slid a red notebook from her purse, frowning. “I never meant for this to be an inconvenience for you. I had hoped to have a new warehouse by now, but the only place I can find that has the space I need isn’t available until after the first of the year.”

  “It’s fine, honestly. There’s no reason to move all those toys now.”

  “Are you sure?” She opened the notebook and set it on the table. “I know it can be a bit much, and you have things that are more important.”

  “No.” He put up a hand to stop her before she could continue. “I believe in what you’re doing here. What I said came out wrong.” He sat down on the sofa next to where she crouched on the floor and silently berated himself. Chelsea put him on edge for some reason, and he couldn’t figure out why. Blaming it on her earlier tears, he pushed forward. “I know what the parents and siblings go through when there’s a sick child. This might seem like just presents to some, but it’s so much more for those families.”

  She nodded. “You understand because you work with them each day.”

  He watched her for a moment before he shook his head.

  She twirled her pen in her hand, cocking her head. “Then why? I mean,” she shook her head, as if disappointed she couldn’t find the right words, and added, “it just seems as if there’s more to it than that.”

  He nodded slowly. “Every time I have to deliver bad news, I…I remember when that same news was handed to my family. So, yes…I understand. Because I know what it’s like.”

  Chapter Three

  For the first time in Kingsley’s life he wanted to tell someone the whole story. The reason he chose the field he did even with all the pressure, stress, and sadness that it brought him. It was a story he never told anyone. Not even his best friend and colleague Doctor Chaz Romo knew the full story, and they had known each other since medical school.

  He patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “Come up here.” Pausing while she did so, he tried to put his words together. His thoughts were scattered, setting his nerves off before he even began. What happened to the calm, collected doctor he’d turned himself into over the years?

  With more apprehension than he’d ever felt before, he began. “Even with five years separating Elizabeth and I, we’re closer than a lot of siblings. We’ve always been like that.” He took her hand into his. It was something he did with families when he was delivering bad news, but this time it was he that sought the comfort of another’s touch. Just thinking about the past brought a fresh wave of pain and fear.

  “We nearly lost her when she was barely five years old. Cancer.” That word tasted rancid on his tongue. “It was sudden and the fight was hard. Many times the doctor told us to prepare for the worse. It was hard on all of us, but I remember sitting by her bed day in and day out, trying to prepare myself for losing her. How does anyone do that?”

  She squeezed his hand. “You can’t prepare for it. Even though you know the loss is imminent, it just prolongs the grief. You start to grieve for your loved one before you even lose them.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself. I remember late at night when I couldn’t sleep, I’d sit in Elizabeth’s room. Just sitting there surrounded by everything she loved, those horrible pink walls and princess bedspread. Still it brought me comfort.” He closed his eyes, and instantly he was ten years old again and back in his sister’s room, the grief raw in his chest. “One night Dad found me sitting there, this stupid stuffed penguin in my hands. Elizabeth made a turn for the worst and we rushed back to the hospital. That night was when I decided I’d spend my life searching for a cure. If I could save just one, it would be worth everything.”

  She squeezed his hand until he looked at her. “A cure always comes with a cost, but look at what progress the medical world has accomplished in the last several years. I believe one day there will be a cure, but something else will replace the disease.”

  “That’s not the world I want to live in. Children shouldn’t have to suffer, and they shouldn’t be cut down before they have a chance to live.” He closed his eyes, letting his anger boil within him. “Aren’t you angry Hope couldn’t be saved? That I couldn’t save her?” That’s what it all boiled down to for him. Hope was his responsibility. He’d failed.

  “Anger? Yes, I had that, lots of it. In the end I realized nothing could have been done. When someone’s time on Earth is over, there’s nothing that can be done to stop it. You can’t blame yourself, you did everything you could for Hope. If anything, you went above and beyond what was expected of you.”

  “She was so young.”

  “Young, but very sick. You did everything you could for her. Don’t ever doubt that.” She squeezed his hand, giving him reassurance, as he often did with his patients’ parents.

  “To lose a child is heartbreaking. It makes me reconsider the field I chose.” Every time he failed, it ate at him. While he used it to improve, to be ready for it next time, it still caused him to question his career decision.

  “Doctor Mathews…”

  He stopped her before she could continue. “Kingsley, or Le, please.”

  “Le, you’re an amazing doctor. You care for your patients. I realize that’s the downfall as well and could eventually cause you to burn out. You chose pediatric oncology for a reason, and because of that you’ve saved countless lives. This doubt doesn’t stem from not being able to save Hope, does it? I never meant for that.”

  “No.” He pushed off the sofa, needing to do something before he ran his hands through Chelsea’s hair. His fingers itched to push the strands away from her face. Confiding in Chelsea had opened him to see her as more than as a former patient’s parent. He was seeing her as a woman he wanted to get to know better.
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  Women were not on the agenda for him. After the hospital, there was nothing left for him to give. There were no hours to devote to a relationship. There was nothing within him when he walked through those doors at the end of the day. A woman, especially Chelsea, deserved better than that. She didn’t need someone who would be a daily reminder of Hope and childhood illnesses. Someday she’d put all of this behind her, maybe she’d even distance herself from the organization and allow others to handle it so she could have a life beyond cancer.

  “Then what brought this up?”

  He dragged his hand over his face. “I have a little girl under my care, and it’s unlikely she’ll see Christmas, okay? I’m furious, damn it!” He wanted to slam his fist through a wall. Instead he clenched his fingers together and stared down at the floor.

  She stood, tentatively came to him, and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You’re here to go through the toys, not listen to my problems.” He forced a smile. “Come on, let’s see what we’ve got for the children.”

  “I understand if you need to work. I can do this.”

  “Work?” He tried to laugh, but even to his own ears it was halfhearted. “You mean the file I bought home that I was going to read for the hundredth time? There’s nothing new added to it. If you weren’t here, I’d spend the night going over each report until my eyes bled and still have no miracle for her.” When she raised an eyebrow at him, he took her hand in his. “This is a much better way to spend the evening. So tell me what I can do to help.”

  Nodding, she turned around and grabbed the notebook. “We have more toys than I expected, and it’s going to take me some time to go through all of them. This is the worst part of not having a warehouse. I have no space to divide them up.”

  “Use whatever space you need, just leave me a path to my bed and you can spread things out everywhere else.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not? I don’t use the house for anything but a few hours of sleep.” He stepped around her, moving back over to the kitchen bar to where the key hook was mounted. He snatched a key off the peg. “Here.”

  “What’s this for?”

  “It’s a key, you’re welcome here anytime. Just lock up when you leave.” For a moment he wondered if he was doing the right thing, giving his house key to a woman he barely knew.

  “This isn’t necessary.” She reasoned as he pressed the key into her palm.

  “Actually it is.” He held her hand longer than necessary, enjoying the feeling of her warmth. “With my hours at the hospital, and emergencies, I can never be sure when I’m home. You need access to the toys in order to divide them and get them ready for delivery. I’ll help with whatever I can, but you still need to be able to get through all of them and that’s going to take time. More time than you have tonight.”

  “Thank you. I’ll do my best so that it doesn’t interfere with your life.”

  He wanted to laugh at the comment. He didn’t have a life outside of his duties, there was only work.

  “How many children are on your list?” he asked.

  “Eighty-four. This year we extended beyond the children with grave prognoses.” She flipped open the notebook.

  “That’s it?” His eyes widened at the thought of how many toys cluttered his spare bedroom. There was more than what was needed for eighty-four children, so what would she do with the rest?

  “Yeah. We were open to a hundred children this year and we were close, but some of them transferred to other hospitals, went into remission, or… You know.” She didn’t have to say some of them didn’t make it, because he already knew. It was the cost of their work, they had to face the sadness of death often.

  “Aren’t there too many toys then?”

  “Our biggest drive is right before Christmas, so whatever’s left over we use for gifts throughout the year for children’s birthdays, pick me ups, and so on. But don’t worry, I’ll get them out of your house after the holidays.” She sat back down on the sofa. “I have the wish list for each of the children in my notebook. I’ll do my best to match the toys in your bedroom to the children. Whatever I don’t have I can use the monetary donations to purchase.”

  “Well, what can I do to help?”

  “I grabbed these because I know they are on the list. Can you bring another armload out? I’ll start going through them. I’ll need to make piles for each of the children. Are you sure you don’t mine me taking over your house? I’ll try to limit it to the bedroom and here.”

  He shook his head. “It’s fine. The only place that’s off limits is my office so I can get some work done when I’m here if I need to.”

  “I’ll stay out of those rooms.” She turned to the first child on the list. “You don’t have a tree up yet, should I leave you space for it?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Everyone needs a tree…”

  “I’m never here, and on Christmas I’ll be at Elizabeth’s anyway.”

  She shrugged and turned to her list. He looked around his living room and hated how dull it seemed. There was nothing that said Christmas, and it was only a few weeks away. He couldn’t muster up the energy to decorate. After all, he was broken inside. Christmas decorations couldn’t fix that.

  Chapter Four

  Kingsley slowly made his way through the hospital lobby, exhaustion clinging to him as it never had before. He usually fell asleep within seconds, but last night after Chelsea had left, he spent the night tossing and turning. The sandman never visited him.

  “Damn, man, you look like shit, as if you’ve been here all night or something.” His brother-in-law Jason stepped up beside him.

  “Not all of us have Liz to take care of us. Why are you here anyway? I thought you and Liz were driving up to your parents’ house.”

  “I got called in around one this morning, an emergency surgery.” He dragged his hand over his face. “A seven-year-old boy was sleep walking and stepped right out of his house and into oncoming traffic. It was a mess.”

  “Is he going to make it?”

  Jason nodded. “I think so, and it will be a miracle. He was a mess when they brought him in, but somehow he’s made it through the surgery and his vitals look good. It’s a damn miracle he made it to the hospital, let alone lived this long. The boy’s a fighter.”

  “Any lasting trauma?”

  “We had no choice but to amputate his leg below the knee.”Jason slipped his stethoscope from around his neck and shoved it in his pocket. “It’s Christmas and what does the boy get…his damn leg amputated.”

  “I know it’s no comfort, but it could be worse. At least the family still has their son.”

  “You’re right. The mother didn’t care about anything except he survived. The father wanted to know what kind of normal life his son would lead with half a leg missing.” Jason shoved his hands into his pocket. “Sorry to burden you with this, you’ve got enough on your plate. I’ve got to go, Elizabeth is waiting at home for us to head out.”

  “Have a safe trip.” He said his goodbyes and stepped onto the elevator. There was one little girl that was going to be his first stop. He needed to see how she was doing before he continued on to his office.

  The hours of sleeplessness had left him with no new revelations as to what might help his patient. Christmas was right around the corner and if there was going to be a miracle, this was the time of year for it. He slipped his coat off just as the elevator doors opened.

  “Doctor Mathews.” The nurse behind the desk looked up from the file she was making notations in and called to him.

  “Morning, Nancy.”

  “Jessica’s mother asked to speak to you when you arrived. If you want to go to your office, I can show her the way.”

  “Any change in Jessica’s condition?” He knew asking was pointless. The nurses had orders to contact him immediately if there was any change.

  With sadness in her eyes, Na
ncy shook her head. They had all been down this road countless times, but it never got easier. “She’s sleeping peacefully at the moment.”

  He tossed his coat on the nurse’s counter. “I’ll check in on them, and pick this up on my way through.”

  “Very well, Doctor Mathews.” She turned her attention back to the file in her hand.

  The hard soles of his dress shoes clicked against the tiled floor like the ringing of doom. Jessica’s mother, Kelly, was holding out hope. Each day she wanted to know if anything had changed in her daughter’s prognosis, and each day he had to tell her the same thing.

  Without entering, he paused by the door, glancing in the hall window at the sleeping little girl and Kelly sitting by her bedside looking completely exhausted. It still bothered him that the nurse, Patsy, thought it was better for the mother to lose her only child. Sure she could have more children, but no one would ever replace her first daughter. Jessica was a fighter. She never complained, no matter how sick she was, and there was always a smile on her face. She was truly a happy child.

  As if she felt his gaze, Kelly’s eyes opened. She glanced to her daughter before stepping out in the hall to join him. “I’d like a moment to talk to you alone, but I don’t want to leave her,” she whispered, her voice strained.

  “Nancy can sit with her for a moment if you’d like, and we can go to my office.” When she nodded, he called for Nancy. “I need a moment with Mrs. Cook, if you could sit with Jessica.”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Nancy smiled, and went to join the sleeping child.

  “This way.” He grabbed his jacket off the counter before leading her down the hallway. His office was just at the end of the hall, close to his patients and their families.

  “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me this morning.”

  “I’m always here.” He pushed open the door, holding it open for her to enter. “Please have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.” He hung up his coat on the peg by the door and made his way over to her. He didn’t bother going behind the heavy mahogany desk. Instead, he took a seat next to her in one of the plush chairs.