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He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe that’s why my uncle bought them for me.”
Nora laughed, though it came out more strained and confused than anything. “They’re toys. I don’t think anyone buys them for kids with the purpose of doing anything with them except play. You really never played war with these guys?”
Hudson shook his head. “I usually played chess if I wanted a strategy game.”
Nora gave him a bewildered look. “Strategy isn’t exactly the point. It’s just playing and having fun.”
He looked a little embarrassed and went back to rummaging through his box. Nora narrowed her eyes. Just what kind of child had Hudson been that he hadn’t even played with toy soldiers? That was practically one of the staples of childhood games.
Hudson pulled out a small stuffed dog from his box. It was clearly made for a small child, maybe even a baby. It was well worn and clearly had been well loved.
“That must have been one of your first toys,” Nora murmured, smiling warmly at the thought. She’d had a stuffed bunny as a baby, and there were tons of pictures of her as a baby holding the bunny. She was pretty sure she still had it in a keepsake box somewhere.
Hudson frowned at one of the back legs of the dog. It was frayed and had all but fallen off the poor thing. “This one is falling apart. We can just throw it away.”
“What!”
Nora’s exclamation made him startle a bit. She glared at him. “You can’t just throw that away. It’s precious!”
“How?”
She huffed. “It was one of your first toys. You don’t want to just throw that kind of thing away.”
“But it’s broken.”
Nora gave him a deadpan look. “He just needs a limb reattachment. And luckily, you happen to have a talented nurse on standby. I can have him in and out of the OR in five minutes tops.”
Hudson shrugged. “If it means that much to you, then sure, have a ball.”
He handed her the toy, and Nora gave him a concerned look.
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Do any of these things mean anything to you?”
He looked a little exasperated. “They’re just toys. Why should they mean something to me?”
The part of her that was used to analyzing patients was suddenly on high alert.
“Hudson,” she started gently. “They usually mean something to people because of what they represent. Even if we do not play with them anymore, they still hold a sentimental value from our childhood that people often associate with comfort.”
He looked away. “That probably explains it, then. I don’t exactly find any comfort in memories of my childhood.”
And it suddenly clicked in her mind. The reason he struggled so hard to connect with Hannah. Most people would draw upon experiences and emotions from their childhood to help. But if something had happened in Hudson’s childhood to make him so disconnected from even his childhood toys, that would explain a lot.
Nora turned to face him fully. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but it sounds like you have a lot of repressed anger and sadness associated with your childhood.”
Hudson still didn’t look at her, but his jaw tightened.
“You know, I think you need to find someone you can trust to open up about your past,” she continued. “If you could talk this out with someone, it could help you have a better relationship with Hannah.”
“I’m not going to talk to some stranger about something that happened thirty years ago,” he snapped.
“It doesn’t have to be a stranger,” she pointed out. “I’m not saying you need counseling. I’m just saying that sometimes, when we talk and reflect on the things that have happened to us, it helps them make sense. It’s like talking out loud to solve a math problem. Honestly. Just putting words to your experiences might help give them meaning.”
His expression softened, and he slowly turned to face her. “So, if that’s all it is, would you be willing to talk it out with me?”
