CW: Death, disease.
I don’t think I was given the correct address.
I’m all dressed up in my Cinderella costume, as my Subaru Forester and I pull into the local children’s hospital parking lot. Surely this wouldn’t be the venue for a birthday party. Unless, of course, the birthday kid was thoroughly devoted to becoming a pediatrician.
The blonde wig tugs at my hairline. I wince, then study the brick building again. This may be the right place. After double-checking the address I was given and comparing it to the address of my location, I grab my gift bag and head into the lobby.
Usually, the stares I get are all from starstruck little girls and boys. Now, I am confronted with the eyes of the receptionist, who looks as if she’s been working nonstop since yesterday. She does a double-take when she sees me. “Who are you here for?”
“I’m not sure if I’m in the right place,” I admit. “Is there someone–a patient, I mean–named Ricky Romero-Wong?”
The receptionist smiles as if she’s softened up a little. “Room 208. Second floor, head straight and it should be the fourth door to your left.” She gestures to the elevator across from the receptionist’s desk. I nod gratefully and shuffle my puffy ball gown into the relatively small elevator. When the elevator dings, I feel a drop of sweat dribble down my forehead and the bridge of my nose. I follow the receptionist’s instructions–down the hall, fourth door to my left. Room 208, just as she said. The door is ajar, so I peek through and open the door wide to find a little boy sitting up on a cot. His mom sits next to him, her legs shaking, as the boy gleefully downs a container of applesauce. When he’s done, he looks up at me and smiles. He’s recognized Cinderella.
“Oh, good,” his mom sighs. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m Claudia, this is Ricky–”
“Yes, we spoke on the phone yesterday.” In true princess fashion, I curtsy. Ricky seems pleased with my display of respect. Claudia laughs nervously and then sits down in the furthest chair from Ricky so I can take her place. I move the chair over just slightly and sit, grinning. “How old are you today, bud?”
“Six!”
“Wow, you’re so big! What kind of presents did you get for your birthday?” I gesture over to the stack of birthday bags and crumpled wrapping paper behind him.
“Lots of stuff,” he shrugs. “Some trucks. A couple of coloring books. And this doll!” Ricky reaches over and grabs an ethnically ambiguous Ken doll from his pile. “Daddy says he looks just like me.”
Besides the plastic muscles and unattainable frame, I have to give it to Ricky. Their hair fell the same way along the sides of their face, and they both had big, cheesy smiles. “Do you like Ken dolls?” I ask.
“Not as much as I like Barbie. I already have lots at home though. This one’s cool, I guess.” He sets the doll down and turns back to smile at me. “Are you a real princess?”
“Of course I am! Would you like to meet my friends Jaq and Gus-Gus?” He nods eagerly, and I pull two stuffed animals out of my “princess bag.” I offer them to Ricky.
He hugs them tight. “They’re sooooo cute!”
I nod. “These two are some of my best friends. Jaq is super smart and Gus-Gus … well, he likes cheese.” Ricky laughs. In true juvenile spirit, he begins acting out a scene with the two mice. I watch on admiringly as he narrates the two’s adventures.
As he plays, I can’t help but look at the machines he’s strapped to. They all look so foreign, something I couldn’t figure out if I tried. He has little white pads strapped to his belly, chest, and arms, and a screen shows the rhythm of his heart above him. I can’t imagine what they’re all for, and honestly, do I want to know? All I can say for certain is that spending a birthday in a hospital is no way for a kid as sweet as Ricky to be celebrated.
“I’m so sorry, Cinderella, I need to go take this phone call,” Claudia apologizes, snapping me out of my trance. I smile back to acknowledge her and then turn back to Ricky, who by now has bored of Jaq and Gus-Gus and wants to hear a song.
“Can you sing me the Cinderella song?” He begs. “Please?”
I oblige, clearing my throat before starting the song. “A dream is a wish your heart makes,” I coo, “when you’re fast asleep.” As I continue, I can see a smile grow across Ricky’s face, and in turn, I can feel one growing across my own. I lean over to him, repeating the same two verses more times than necessary just to keep him happy.
“You know,” he tells me after I finish the song, “I’m leaving here soon. I’m going home to Daddy and my sisters. The doctors say I’m healthy now.”
“Wow, that’s amazing! How much longer until you leave?” He calculates on his hands and holds up three fingers. “Only three days! Well then, I guess for your seventh birthday I’ll come by your house and meet all of your friends!”
Ricky nods. “I haven’t seen my friends since I got here. It’s okay though. I like playing with them.” I feel my heart sink a little bit. As he fawns over my glittery dress, I can’t help but feel a small pang in my chest when I imagine all he’s been through.
A few minutes later, Claudia returns. “Okay, Ricky, say thank you and goodbye to Cinderella!”
He pouts. “Can she stay just a few more minutes?”
Claudia smiles sheepishly. “I know she would love to, but she has so many other kids to say hi to. Isn’t that right, Cinderella?”
I nod. “But, to remember me by, here’s a little special something for your birthday.” He opens the gift to find a DIY terrarium, which also doubles as a night light. He holds his hands out for a hug, and I squeeze him tight. “I hope you have the loveliest birthday, little guy.”
Claudia follows me out, opening her checkbook and shutting the door. “How much do I owe you?”
“I charge one-hundred dollars for the hour but work on a sliding scale. If you can’t pay that much, I can–”
“I can cover it,” Claudia responds quickly.
As she writes the check, I give her a soft smile. “I’m glad Ricky’s healthy and going home. You must be so relieved.”
Claudia shakes her head. “Is that what he told you?” I nod. “Oh. Well, yes, he’s going home. He’s just not … ” She covers her mouth with her hand, moments away from sobbing. “He’s not going to make it more than a couple more weeks, we think. We’re bringing him home so he can spend his last few days with his family.”
She hands me the check, but I push it back to her. “Keep it. You need it more than I do.”
With that, Claudia wraps her arms around me and blows snot into my ballgown. Surprisingly, I’m not worried about the eventual snot stain. I comfort her just as any princess would, rocking her back and forth until she lets go and looks up at me, eyes gleaming. “You’re a real princess, you know that?”
I laugh, trying not to get choked up myself. “You’ve got a good kid. You’re a good mom.”
She nods, staring at her feet. “Thank you, Cinderella.” I turn away and return to the elevator, my eyelids fighting the inevitable tears. I ride down the elevator, thank the receptionist, and head back to my car, where I slam my head onto the steering wheel and sob hysterically.
Never have I been more moved by someone I just met. When would he die? Does he know he will die? Is he going to die in his sleep, or is he going to be in pain? Questions consume me, but I know I shouldn’t entertain them. I buckle myself in and back out of the parking lot, wiping away tears.