by Sue Margolis
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” Ruby interrupted, “but it’s actually Connor’s grandma I need to speak to.”
“Well, don’t expect a warm welcome. Between you and me, she seems like a bit of an old sourpuss.”
“Oh, she’s not so bad when you get to know her.” Ruby smiled. She opened the kitchen door.
Ruby closed the door behind her and put the Patisserie Valerie cake on the kitchen counter, along with all the other cakes people had brought.
Bridget, who appeared not to have heard her come in, was standing at the sink, her back toward Ruby, dressed in the same black suit she had worn to Fi and Saul’s wedding. In one arm she was cradling Connor, whose head she had positioned next to the trickling mixer tap.
“In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost I baptize thee Connor Declan Weinberg.” With that, Bridget filled her cupped hand with water and drizzled it over Connor’s head. The baby let out a short, slightly disgruntled cry.
Ruby slapped her hand to her mouth to stop herself laughing. “Oh, my God,” she muttered under her breath, “the woman’s baptizing him under the kitchen tap.”
“There, there, little man,” Bridget said tenderly as she wiped the baby’s head with a tea towel and began planting kisses on his face. “It’s nothing to what that lot of heathens in there are about to do to you. Your poor little winky…What are they going to do to your poor little winky?” As she spoke she turned away from the sink and noticed Ruby.
“Fi’s refused to get a priest in to baptize him,” Bridget said simply, hugging Connor to her breast, “so I thought a little DIY one wouldn’t hurt.”
“I think it’s a lovely idea,” Ruby said, happening to notice how much tidier the kitchen was than when she’d visited the other day. She wondered if that was due to Bridget, too. She could just imagine her tearing round the house with a cloth and a bottle of bleach declaring the entire place a health hazard and making poor Fi feel even more inadequate.
“I had to do it,” Bridget whispered conspiratorially. “If that rabbi’s knife were to slip and he killed the poor little mite before he was in a state of grace, his soul would be in limbo.” She gave Connor one final kiss and maneuvered him into his baby seat. Despite the shock of the water, he was starting to fall asleep.
Ruby wasn’t about to get into a debate with Bridget about whether a compassionate God would allow an innocent baby’s soul to suffer. Anyway, she didn’t get a chance. Bridget was opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of champagne.
“It’s meant to be for later, but there’s plenty more on ice outside and I think I need something to steady my nerves. Will you join me?”
Ruby was never one to turn down a glass of champagne. “You bet,” she said, completely forgetting that only an hour ago she had taken two powerful painkillers and that the instructions on the box were to avoid alcohol. The cork popped, briefly jolting Connor from his sleep. As Bridget filled two glasses, Ruby decided she would try to move the conversation away from circumcision and onto something more neutral.
“So, how was your trip to Vancouver?” Ruby asked, remembering Bridget had been there recently to visit one of Fi’s sisters.
“Ah,” Bridget replied wistfully, “now, there’s a city. Did you know you can swim during the day and ski in the mountains at night? And the food…As you know, I don’t eat much red meat as a rule, on account of it aggravating my rheumatics, but one night we went to this hamburger joint…Vera’s, I think it was called. Ruby, I swear to God I’ve never tasted meat like it.”
“Really? That good, eh?”
“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe. I chose a cheeseburger. My son-in-law said I should go for the Veraburger, but that was plain and I like a bit of melted cheese on a burger—so long as it’s not too stringy. Anyway, when it came, it melted in the mouth.”
“Wow.”
“You barely needed to chew. I’d say it was succulent without being too rare. I don’t like my meat rare on account of the bacteria.”
“Very sensible.”
“And the fries. Done to a turn, they were…”
Bridget poured them a second glass of champagne. Fifteen minutes later she was still yakking. By now she had moved on to the superior health care, the superior tax system and various other superiors in Canada. Once again Ruby glanced surreptitiously at her watch and wondered why the ceremony hadn’t got under way. She was just beginning to think Fi had decided she couldn’t go through with it, when she walked into the kitchen. Relief spread across her face the moment she saw Ruby.
“Where have you been?” she said. “I’ve been trying to get you all afternoon, but your phone’s been off. Did you get my messages?”
“No, my batt—”
“OK, you will never guess what’s happened,” she broke in, her arms flapping with excitement. “It’s the most amazing coincidence…”
“What is?” Ruby frowned. She was picking up a strange vibe from Fi. Despite her friend’s enthusiasm, Ruby could detect anxiety in her eyes. She was getting the distinct impression that Fi was about to try and sell her something that she knew full well Ruby wouldn’t want to buy.
“Fi, why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what’s coming next?”
Fi swallowed hard. “All right, I admit it might be a bit awkward at first. But I’m sure it’ll all work out. Please, promise me you won’t get upset or embarrassed.”
“Just tell me. What mustn’t I get upset or embarrassed about?”
Bridget had been putting a blanket over Connor and was only half listening to what her daughter was saying. “How can people not get upset when you’re about to cut into this little mite?”
Fi rolled her eyes. “Mum, please, stop it. I don’t need this now. Ben was fine after his circumcision and Connor will be, too. Now can we just drop it?”
Bridget gave an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh.
At this point Saul came in. Bridget offered him a look that could have stripped paint. He merely smiled back at her. Ruby couldn’t work out if his smile was one of contempt, or whether it was simply his way of keeping the peace. Knowing Saul it was bound to be the latter. “The rabbi’s ready,” he said to Fi. He gave Ruby a quick smile and a wave and said, “Speak to you later.”
Fi told Saul she wouldn’t be a moment. “You have to hang on while I tell Ruby what’s going on. She didn’t get my messages.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s important, but it’ll have to wait,” Saul insisted. “Rabbi Sherman’s got two more circumcisions after ours and he’s running late. Plus my Aunty Faye is threatening to collapse into a diabetic coma if she doesn’t eat soon or get a cup of sweet tea.”
“So, offer to make her a cream cheese bagel. I’ll be literally ten seconds.”
“Fi, please…The rabbi just told me the medication to control his Parkinson’s is about to wear off. I’m pretty sure he’s joking, but…we really need you and Connor now.”
“Oh, all right,” Fi snorted. She scooped up the baby and followed Saul out of the kitchen. “Just don’t be cross with me,” Fi said, turning back to look at Ruby. “There was nothing I could do and I did try to warn you.”
“OK, but just tell me what it is I need to be warned about,” Ruby pleaded. “I’m starting to panic.” But Fi was gone.
WHEN SHE ASKED Bridget if she knew what Fi was talking about, she said she hadn’t the foggiest. “If I were you, darlin’, I wouldn’t take any notice. Her hormones are still all over the place after having the baby. Mark my words, it’ll be something of nothing.”
But Ruby was sure it wasn’t nothing. A few moments later, when she began to feel a bit light-headed, she put it down to a combination of champagne and apprehension. Then, as she got up from the kitchen table, she felt the top half of her body starting to sway. It was only as she reached out and gripped the kitchen table for support that she realized the sensation had less to do with unease and more to do with the painkillers she’d taken earlier, which weren’t meant to be mix
ed with alcohol. So much for her theory about them being less potent because they were past their use-by date. Now she was about to make a spectacle of herself in front of all those people and everybody would think she was drunk. Fi of course would never forgive her. Great.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in here?” Ruby said to Bridget, who was now weeping and crossing herself. Ruby desperately hoped Bridget would decide to boycott the actual circumcision. First, it meant that there was no chance of her making a scene and upsetting the ceremony. It also meant Ruby could sit in the kitchen, sipping water until she felt better.
But Bridget insisted on going into the living room. “That innocent child will not go through this heathen ritual alone. He needs my moral support and I will be there for him.”
She began striding out of the kitchen, an unsteady Ruby close behind. For Bridget, “being there” meant standing right at the front, next to the rabbi, Saul, and Saul’s brother, Jake, who as godfather was holding the baby. Fi couldn’t bear to watch, so she was standing at the back of the room with Saul’s mother.
Ruby had enough to contend with, what with keeping herself upright and making sure Bridget didn’t cause any unpleasantness, that she didn’t pay much attention to who was standing nearby. She heard more than she saw. First there was Bridget still calling on Our Lady to “stop these heathens mutilating this poor little man.” Then there was one of Fi’s brothers telling her to put a sock in it, and that if it was good enough for the royal family, it was good enough for her.
By now the prayers had begun and people were shushing Bridget. She responded with loud sobs.
In addition to the light-headedness caused by mixing painkillers and champagne, Ruby was also starting to feel slightly sick at the thought of what was about to happen to Connor. More than anything, she wished that Bridget hadn’t insisted on taking a ringside position.
As she saw Connor’s plump little legs splayed like an oven-ready chicken, she felt the nausea get worse. She didn’t see what happened next because she closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, Connor was letting out the most almighty wail. While people exchanged mazel tovs and Fi’s brother took Bridget to find a medicinal glass of whiskey, Ruby didn’t move. She stood glued to the spot, her heart racing, her forehead covered in cold sweat, knowing that she was about to either upchuck or pass out or both and that there was nothing she could do to stop it.
As the spinning in her head began to gather speed, the room took on a blueish tinge. Finally, she felt her legs give way.
“Whoa, it’s OK, I gotcha,” said a male voice. It seemed to be coming from miles away. She was vaguely aware that somebody was supporting her under her arms. “We need to get you lying down,” the voice continued. She felt him scoop her up, walk the few paces to the sofa and lay her down. A pile of cushions was placed under her feet. “That’ll get the blood flowing again,” he said. It did, sort of—enough for her to risk opening her eyes. When she saw that the room was still a blue blur, she closed them again.
“You in any pain, Ruby?” the man asked. She shook her head.
“That’s good. Means you just fainted. You’ll be feeling better in a couple of minutes.” By now, concerned guests were gathered around the sofa. The man said they should stand back to give Ruby air. Since tea was now being served, the old people in particular didn’t need telling twice. “Fi said you would be here,” he went on, “so I was looking out for you, but I didn’t recognize you with your hair up.” He was holding her wrist and taking her pulse. “Was it just watching the circumcision that made you feel faint or was it something else? Have you eaten today?”
Ruby managed a garbled explanation about accidentally mixing painkillers and champagne. “Youadoctor, then?” She was slurring her words. Although she was recovering from the faint, the effects of the champagne and painkillers seemed to be getting worse.
“Yes. Ruby, open your eyes and you’ll see it’s…”
“Sho…” She let out a loud hiccup. “How jew know my name?”
“Ruby, it’s me…”
Another hiccup. “Me who? Who me?” She started to giggle. “You sound American. Funny, your voice sounds familiar. Can’t quite place it though.”
“I am American,” the man said. “Come on, Ruby, try and open your eyes. Then you’ll see why you recognize my—”
“Nah. When I open them, it’sh all bloooo.” She hiccuped and put her arm across her eyes as if to emphasize her determination not to open them. “You know I met this American doctor the other day. He’s a gyne…a gyne…how jew say it? A gynecolumnist, that’s it.” Another hiccup. “A gynecolumnist.”
When Ruby drank too much, she became garrulous and utterly uninhibited. There was no knowing how much more garrulous and uninhibited she was about to become having mixed alcohol with strong painkillers.
“Anyway,” she went on, “he wants to go out with me. At least he did, before I pissed him off by being rude on the phone. At first I thought the idea of dating a gyne…thingumy was dishgusting. I mean, do you know how they spend their days?”
“I’ve got a fair idea,” he said.
“But I think I’m starting to change my mind.” She started to giggle. “Come here.” She snorted. “I’ve got something to tell you.” He sat down on the edge of the sofa. “No, closer.” He leaned in.
“You promise you won’t tell?” she said.
“Promise.”
“’Cause it’s really [hic] personal.”
“OK.”
“Right…well [hic] the other day when I was at the hospital having one of those well-woman checkups, the [hic] doctor found a stamp in my…in my…well, it was in a very [hic, hic] private place. Anyway, I was on the phone telling my friend Fi all about it…she’s Connor’s mother, you know…anyway, when I’d finished, there was thish other doctor standing next to me. I’m sure he overheard everything I said.”
“Ah. I can see how that might be a tad embarrassing.”
“Too blinkin’ right. But you see, I did shome reeely quick thinking and pretended to him that me and Fi had been discussing something completely different.”
“Smart move.”
“I thought so. [hic, hic] But now there’sh a problem. If we go out, I’d feel compelled to tell him that I lied. Then I’d have to deshcribe what really happened and that…”
“…would be more than plain embarrassing, it would be downright humiliating.”
“Thassit! You goddit.”
“You know, I’m sure he’d understand.” He was really teasing her now, but she was too high on her champagne-and-painkiller cocktail to notice.
“You reckon?”
“I’m positive. He sounds to me like the kinda guy who’d see the funny side.”
“Maybe. I dunno…So, what short of a doctor are you?”
“Actually, I’m a gynecolumnist, too.”
“No! Wadda coincidence…I’m…I’m dilated to meet you.” She roared at her joke. “Jew geddit? Gynecolumnist…dilated to meet you?”
“Yep, that’s really funny,” he chuckled.
“OK, you have to tell me something. My friend Fi reckons gynecolumnists make great lovers. Not that she’s ever slept with one. She just thinks it makes sense, what with them knowing their way around women’s bits. So [hic, hic] would you say you’re an above-average lover? I mean, if you were to give yourself marksh out of ten, what would you score? A nine? A ten?” She burst out laughing. “Nah, you’ve got a sexy voice, I bet you’re an eleven. Or even…a twelve!” She was cackling now.
“Thank you,” he said.
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Sam.”
“It’s not,” she giggled. “[hic] You’re having me on.”
“No. My name really is Sam.”
“But, this American doctor I met, hish name’s Sham, too. God, I know two gynecolumnists, both American and both called Sham. How weird is that?”
He didn’t say anything.
“So,” she
said, “what’s your last name?”
“Epstien.”
Now Ruby roared with laughter. “Yeah, right. Very funny.”
“Ruby, for the last time, please open your eyes. It’s me, Sam Epstien.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” she said lifting her arm from where it had been resting over her head. “How can you be…?” Slowly her eyes started to focus. The realization that the man sitting beside her really was Sam Epstien positively catapaulted Ruby back to sobriety. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide open. “Holy Mother,” was all she said, before lying back down again because she still felt dizzy.
“But I don’t understand…” She swallowed hard, aware that her heart was pounding. “…what on earth are you doing here? And I said all those things to you about my…you know…the stamp thing…and about gyne…gyne…”
“Columnists,” he prompted.
“Yeah, about gynecolumnists being good lovers. Omigod. Omigod.” She slapped her hand to her mouth.
Just then a concerned-looking Fi appeared. She was clutching Connor to her. Courtesy of a teaspoon of sweet kosher wine, he was sound asleep. “You OK, Rubes? Don’t worry, Saul’s mum felt a bit queasy during the proceedings, too. You’re not alone.” She lowered her head to kiss Connor, who had let out a tiny whimper in his sleep.
At this point Sam disappeared to fetch Ruby some water.
“So, Rubes,” Fi said, doing some uneasy throat clearing, “erm, coming round and seeing Sam here must have come as a bit of a shock.”