his sadness. For a while, they talked of other things—what Toby wanted to be when he grew up, the places he wanted to see, the things he wanted to do. Hanna suppressed her doubts when the child talked of college and the discoveries he’d make. Unless he was adopted, the orphanage would farm him out as day labor in a few years or, if he was very lucky, apprentice him to learn a trade. Even though he was a smart boy, the odds were against him graduating from high school, much less getting a higher education.
“Yoo-hoo!”
While she considered possible ways to change Toby’s future for the better, Dottie skipped into the room, all bright smiles and cheery good will.
“Our shift is over, and we’ve been waiting for you! Hurry. We don’t want to be late for the Christmas party.” Dottie danced to the side of Toby’s bed and bent down. The necklace of tinsel she wore around her neck sparkled as she moved. “Do you mind if I borrow her for a while, Toby?”
Toby flipped another lever on the camera. He pondered the matter for a moment before he gave a solemn nod. “Okay.”
Hanna aimed her best smile at the little boy. “I have to go now, Toby. I’ll see you tomorrow, but don’t forget the comet tonight. I’ll be watching for it, too.” A warm spot in her chest expanded at the child’s broad grin.
“Right!” He snapped his fingers and waved good-bye.
Her heart lighter than it had been when she’d walked into the ward, Hanna hurried to catch up with her friend. The truth of the conversation she’d shared with Toby struck home, and she hugged herself. Helping others really did help push the sadness away, at least for a little while.
In the stairwell, the sounds of the party underway on the floor above drifted down around them. Hanna hesitated, her hand on the rail. Struck by a guilty pang, she cast a lingering look at the door she’d just walked through. How could she leave Toby all alone while she went off and had a good time?
“C’mon! They’ve started without us.” Dottie glanced over her shoulder. Her eagerness to join the rest of the group showed in the excited flush of color that had sprung to her cheeks. She tapped her fingers in impatience.
Hanna gave the doorway a final look. Promising to check in on Toby first thing in the morning, she shoved aside her misgivings and sped up the stairs. Dottie hurried ahead, the rubber soles of her shoes striking the risers in time with the Christmas carol someone played on the old upright piano in the staff break room.
In perfect pitch, a man’s strong tenor rang through the stairwell. The volume swelled as others joined in singing a familiar Christmas carol.
“Did you hear that? Dr. Axlerod has such a beautiful voice.” Dottie pressed one hand to her heart. “He’s like an opera singer. Just listen!”
But not everyone had been blessed with the doctor’s gift for music. Hanna winced as someone struck a false note. The owner of a sweet soprano stumbled over the words.
Dottie giggled and clamped a hand over her mouth. “That’s Mary Grace,” she explained. “She can never remember the lyrics. She’s a riot.” Practically taking the steps two at a time, she urged, “C’mon!”
At the landing, Dottie darted toward the nurses and doctors who’d gathered around the Christmas tree. Icicles hanging from its branches shimmied as the air currents stirred. Tiny balls of color, reflections from the tree lights, danced against the walls, giving the room a cheerful, rosy glow. Glasses clinked as the festive group toasted one another with apple cider.
Hanna took one look at the party and bit her lower lip. She could do this. She repeated the same message she’d been giving herself throughout the holiday season. She could, but she… she needed a minute. Turning aside, she spied the telephone alcove. Her footsteps slowed. She plucked Dottie’s sleeve. “I just want to make a phone call first.”
“Now?” On the woman’s face, the desire to join the party played tug-of-war with a firm resolve to stick by her friend.
“It’s for Toby,” she explained, focusing her thoughts on the little boy who sat in a hospital bed without anyone to visit him. She might not be able to change his future, but she could at least see that he had one nice holiday to remember. “I just want to make sure someone from the orphanage takes him home for Christmas.”
Compassion darkened Dottie’s eyes. “Oh. Poor little boy. Go ahead. Make the call. Then, join us.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. Promise,” Hanna said, relieved. Though she wasn’t sure she felt up to joining the party, she didn’t want to spoil the fun for her friend.
But Dottie saw through her tricks. “Don’t forget. We’re all going to the gazebo,” she warned just as, in the room behind her, Dr. Axlerod launched into a rousing version of “Deck the Halls.” Her eyes widened. “That’s my favorite.” She grinned and dashed into the room.
Slowly, Hanna walked to the phone perched on a stand in the corner of the hallway. Lifting the receiver to her ear, she spun the heavy rotary dial. When the operator asked who she’d like to call, she responded that she wanted to be put through to the Central Falls Orphanage.
“I’m sorry. That line’s out of order,” the woman from the phone company explained.
“Thanks,” Hanna answered, though her shoulders rounded. “I’ll try again later.” Hoping the repairs wouldn’t take long, she headed back the way she’d come. But at the door to the lounge, she stopped.
Her friends all wanted her to join in the fun. To at least act as if everything was back to normal. She knew they meant well, and she appreciated it. They were only encouraging her to move forward with her life because they loved her and wanted what was best for her. In her heart, she thanked them for their concern. But this year—when so many were celebrating the safe return of loved ones—the holiday cheer and the decorations and the smells of gingerbread fresh from the oven had snuck up on her. And to be quite honest with herself, she wasn’t ready. Not for the wassail bowls. Not for the presents with their pretty bows. Not for Christmas carols and songs about hope and peace on earth, goodwill toward men.
Most certainly, her sadness would ruin the party for everyone else, she decided. With a last look at the happy group, she slipped down the stairs and out of sight before anyone could notice.
Alone in the nurses’ locker room a short while later, she exchanged her uniform for the green dress that had been one of Chet’s favorites and traded her sturdy white nursing shoes for the pretty red pumps she’d worn because of the holiday. Quickly, she buckled the thin ankle straps. Though the party upstairs might go on for an hour or so, she couldn’t take the chance that Dottie or one of the other nurses would catch her while she was still in the hospital.
As she walked out of the main entrance a few minutes later, she glanced up at Toby’s room. Like he did every night, the young tyke stood at the window, waiting to wave goodbye to her.
Hanna grinned up at him, and then made a silly face. With a jaunty wave, she headed down the long sidewalk to the parking lot. She’d only gone a yard or two when hurried footsteps sounded behind her. She stepped aside as an orderly hustled past, carrying several cardboard boxes. He’d almost reached the end of the walkway when the young man skidded on an icy spot.
“Whoa!” he cried, juggling the boxes while he recovered his balance.
“Need some help, Charlie?” Hanna
