Richard frowned. “Maybe she told him that so he’d feel better.”
“No, he told me this morning and I sympathized with her. She didn’t say anything.”
“She couldn’t in front of Toby. That would’ve ruined her bonding with him.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong. Molly wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
Richard just shook his head. His mother had never believed bad things about him, either. Unfortunately sometimes he’d lied to her. And he’d always felt so guilt-ridden that he had to admit it afterwards. Maybe Molly would do the same.
“Molly, can I go outside for a little while?” Toby asked after he woke up.
“No, it’s too cold outside. You don’t want to be sick for Christmas, do you?”
“I guess not.”
“Besides, I need you to do something.” When Toby looked at her, a question in his eyes, she explained, “Think of something you can give to Richard and your grandmother for Christmas.”
“But I don’t have any money,” Toby reminded her.
“I have some allocated for presents.”
“What’s allocated?”
“It means I have some money for you for presents.”
He seemed to perk up then. “Really? That would be fun.”
“Yes, we can go buy them and wrap them up. Then you can put them under the Christmas tree.”
“I’d like that. But what can I buy them?”
“Nothing expensive, but maybe some monogrammed handkerchiefs for Richard and scented soap for your grandmother.”
“Those aren’t very exciting.” After a few seconds of silence, during which he gave the subject some thought, his eyes suddenly lit up with excitement. “I bought Daddy a big flashlight. Mommy said he needed it and—” Reality hit him and suddenly those same eyes filled with tears. “I—I forgot he and Mommy aren’t ever coming back. Are they?”
“No, honey, they’re not,” Molly said, reaching out and holding him in her arms. Comfort like this was all she could give Toby, though she ached to take away his pain. Still, she knew it helped to talk about the deceased; that was what everyone had told her. And they were right. Talking about them somehow kept them alive, at least in one’s memory. “What did you get your mommy?” she asked him.
“Some perfume,” Toby whispered. “I couldn’t really afford it,” he said, pausing to swallow the tears, “but Daddy said he’d help me ’cause Mommy really, really wanted it.”
“I’m sure she would’ve loved it, baby.”
“I—I know.” He lay quietly in her arms, the excitement of Christmas lost in his memories of his life in Florida. “Molly, did they die because I wasn’t a good enough boy?” he asked anxiously.
Molly hugged him more tightly against her. “Absolutely not. You’re a very good boy. It was because someone in another car didn’t drive safely. And God gave you your uncle and grandma to make up for losing your parents.”
Toby sniffled but said nothing. Molly, her head resting on his soft hair, said, “Did you hear me, Toby? It’s important that you know that. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Okay,” he said with a sigh, turning his face into her sweater.
“You’re not putting tears on my sweater, are you, Toby?” she asked, trying to put a teasing note in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, swiftly moving away from her.
“Oh, sweetheart, I was just teasing. I have other sweaters. I was hoping to make you laugh a little.” She stroked his head and wiped away some tears with her fingers.
“I’ve been trying to be happy for Grandma. She likes it when I smile for her.”
“I know she does, and that’s very brave of you. But when it’s just the two of us, you can cry if you want to. I’ll understand.”
“Thank you,” he said softly and resumed his place against her. “I like the new ornaments we bought, but I wish I had the ornaments from our tree. Mommy helped me pick them out. There was one that had all three of us in a picture frame. And one of me when I was a baby. It was my first Christmas, but I can’t remember it.”
“I bet you were cute!” Molly said with a chuckle.
“Did you have an ornament like that?”
Molly squeezed him a little tighter. “Yes, I think I did, but—but it gets hard to remember.”
“I don’t ever want to forget Mommy and Daddy!”
“I don’t think you ever will, sweetie. You’re a little older than I was and you have that great picture of the three of you.”
“Yeah. Daddy threatened to tickle me if I didn’t smile at the camera. I wanted to go see Santa instead of having a picture taken. But now I’m glad I did.”
“Me, too,” Molly said and kissed him on top of his head. “Well, now I need to finish wrapping things so I can put everything away. And if you didn’t like my ideas for presents, you can think of something else to get Uncle Richard and your grandma.”
“Yeah, I need to think.” He left her arms and wandered back into his room.
A few minutes later he ran back in. “We can get Richard a football!”
“Hmm, a football. He told you he likes to play football?”
“No, but I’m sure he would.”
“And with whom would he play football?”
“I’ll play with him!” Toby said in an excited voice.
“I see. You see, Toby, the art of gift giving is to get the person something he or she wants. Not something you want.”
“Oh.”
“Want to try again?”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding discouraged.
Molly began wrapping the presents she bought that day for Elizabeth, Richard and Toby. They were inexpensive gifts, in hopes that they would enjoy them without feeling the necessity to reciprocate.
Toby wandered back in. “What are you doing?”