“Mom says wishes don’t work…can you help mine?”—Said the Girl to the Single Dad CEO at the Toy Aisle
A Chance Encounter in the Toy Aisle
The fluorescent lights of the big box store hummed overhead, casting everything in that particular brightness unique to retail spaces during the holiday season. Christmas music played softly through speakers, occasionally interrupted by announcements about sales and store closing times.
Marcus Brennan walked through the toy section with purpose, his charcoal suit standing out among the shoppers in their casual winter wear. His leather shoes clicked against the polished floor.
At 41, Marcus had built Brennan Technologies into a powerhouse, a software company that had revolutionized supply chain management for Fortune 500 companies. He had the corner office, the respect of his peers, and enough money that he’d stopped counting years ago.
What he didn’t have, despite the elegant suit and expensive watch, was what he’d come here looking for: the right gift for his daughter, Riley. His 8-year-old had been specific.
She wanted the new Lego City set, the one with the buildings, the vehicles, and the approximately one million pieces as she’d informed him with typical dramatic flare. Marcus smiled at the memory of her earnest explanation of why this particular set was essential to her happiness.
Being a single father to Riley was the most challenging and rewarding thing Marcus had ever done. Her mother, Christine, had left when Riley was two, deciding that motherhood and marriage weren’t what she wanted after all.
The divorce had been swift and relatively amicable. Christine had simply walked away, sending birthday cards from whatever city she was living in that year, occasionally calling but never visiting.
For 6 years it had been just Marcus and Riley against the world. He’d scaled back his work hours, hired a wonderful nanny named Patricia, and learned to braid hair through YouTube tutorials.
He had become an expert on the difference between various cartoon characters that all looked identical to him. He was scanning the Lego aisle when he noticed her.
A little girl, probably four or five with blonde hair held back by a cream-colored bow, wearing a pink puffy jacket despite the store’s warmth. She stood perfectly still in the middle of the aisle, staring up at the shelves.
She was staring with an expression of such longing that Marcus felt his chest tighten. Behind her, keeping a careful distance, stood a young woman in her late 20s.
She was striking: blonde hair, gray cardigan over a cream dress, the kind of understated elegance that didn’t need expensive clothes to shine through. But it was her expression that caught Marcus’ attention.
It was a mixture of sadness, exhaustion, and that particular look parents get when they wish they could give their child the world but know they can’t.
The little girl reached up toward a doll on the shelf, one of those expensive ones that came with accessories and extra outfits. Her small fingers didn’t quite reach it.
“Excuse me,” Marcus said gently approaching the child.
“Would you like me to get that down for you?”
The girl turned to look at him, her blue eyes solemn and assessing in the way children’s eyes are when they’re trying to determine if an adult is safe.
She glanced back at her mother, who’d taken a protective step forward but nodded slightly.
“Yes please,” the girl said politely.
“The one with the purple dress?”
Marcus reached up easily and retrieved the doll, kneeling down to hand it to her. Up close he could see the careful mending on her jacket, the shoes that were slightly too small, and the signs of a family stretching every dollar.
The girl took the doll reverently, holding it like it was made of spun glass. She looked at it for a long moment, her small face a picture of want and wonder.
Then carefully, she looked at the price tag. Her expression fell.
“Mom says wishes don’t work,” she said suddenly looking up at Marcus with an intensity that startled him.
Her voice dropped to a whisper as if she were sharing a secret.
“She says we have to be practical and grateful for what we have but I’ve been very good this year and it’s almost Christmas and I thought maybe”
She paused, her lower lip trembling slightly.
“Can you help mine my wish”
