Chapter 1
Nicolas Kringle
Friday, December 20th, 2019
At thirty-five, I’m running an empire, I have great friends, a loving family, and money in the bank, yet something is still missing. As the holidays are upon us, I’m feeling it even more. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but whatever it is, it’s so close I can almost taste it. I’ve been amped up for at least a week now. For the third day in a row, I am wearing a Santa suit. As the CEO of Kringle Worldwide Health Subsidiaries, wearing a Santa suit isn’t really in my job description but I do it anyway. KWHS owns thirty-seven hospitals worldwide. Three of which are in New York, where we are headquartered. I have done two of the hospitals already and am currently walking into the third one. I wave to the security guard at the desk.
“Have a good day, Mr. Kringle,” he says as I breeze past him.
“You too, Pauley,” I say going about my business. I shuffle the huge red bag of presents from shoulder to shoulder as I walk. There’s a ton of things in here for the kids.
This is the hospital I visit most. Once a day, at least. It means the most to me. San Tropez Hospital in Queens is a special hospital. It’s the only hospital in our network that sees insurance-less patients free of charge. This includes surgeries, most cancer treatments, and giving birth. It’s also a teaching hospital. I visit kids who are stuck here over Christmas and can’t take pictures with Santa. I started doing it when I took over for my father after he retired. He started this company many years before I was born and molded it into what it is today. Daily, I go to him for advice. He’s the best damn hospital administrator I’ve ever seen. Even if I am only half as good as he was, I’ll rest easy knowing that I gave it my all. I am coming up on my fifth year in charge and I love my job. Getting to do this is just a perk. I wish I could get around to all thirty-seven locations, especially for the holidays but that just isn’t feasible. Too often I am pulled in too many directions and my razor-sharp focus is split. Providing affordable, quality health care is this company’s number main goal. I’ve never had time for women because I only focus on work. That’s not entirely true though. No woman has made me want to give her a second glance and I’m okay with that. From what my brother, Ian, says women are only after one thing and it’s not your dick. I’m inclined to believe him. I’ve seen the kind of ladies he dates. Gold diggers, the lot of them.
I step up to the elevator which opens as soon as I push the UP button. Inside, I push the button indicating 12. The twelfth floor begins the pediatric ward. It houses one hundred beds in fifty-five rooms, plus a quarantine area with twenty additional beds. There are also five operating theatres so classes can observe any surgeries taking place. All in all, the ward spans the top three floors of the building. Three hundred pediatricians have privileges at this hospital and see patients here daily.
To say that I am proud of San Tropez would be an understatement. Once the doors close again, something’s different. I’m the only one in the car, but a somehow overwhelmingly yet delicate floral scent fills my lungs. It boggles my mind. I can’t help breathing it in, memorizing it. It calls to me in a way that nothing ever has before. I step out of the elevator, calmer than when I went in. Turning right, I head straight for the playroom. The kids who are able to, play here every day. I don’t blame them. It’s state of the art, with every gaming system known to man, hooked up to the two huge TV’s in the room.
“Santa’s here!” a kid shouts as best he can upon spotting me.
“Ho, ho, ho,” I say in my best Santa voice. I have perfected it over the last five years. The staff has set up a large chair, and I hired a photographer, who is already set up and waiting. Volunteers are dressed as elves and nurses mill about monitoring their patients.
For the next several hours, I learn what they want for Christmas. I’d expect these kids to want toys, Xboxes, and bikes, but all they really want is to spend Christmas at home with their families and it breaks my heart. I wish I could help them more but being here during this time is really what’s best for them.
Afterward, I make my way to the nursery. I’ve been providing skin to skin contact with a nameless baby girl who was abandoned at the safe haven the hospital provides. She was malnourished but full of fight. She’ll remain here until her doctor determines she can go into foster care. I may have used my influence to hold that part of the process up. I can’t explain the pull I have toward the tiny baby girl. We aren’t even one hundred percent sure how old she is. Our best guess is a little less than two months. She needs me and I need to be the one who raises her, who gives her what her birth parents could not. A nurse brings her out to me, after I open my Santa jacket and removed the white beard covering my own dark one. She cuddles on my chest and I nuzzle her head. She really needs a name.