Main Street #8: Special Delivery

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Main Street #8: Special Delivery Page 5

by Ann M. Martin


  “Hi! It’s me!” said the voice at the other end of the line. “Did the baby come yet?”

  “Ruby?” asked Aunt Allie.

  “Yup. And Flora’s here, too. We just wanted to know if we have a new cousin.”

  “Oh, believe me, honey, you two and Min are the first people I’ll call when there’s any news, but I haven’t heard from Mrs. Prescott today.”

  “Oh.” Ruby paused. “For corn’s sake! That’s what Min would say.”

  Allie laughed. “I know. Listen, I promise I’ll call you the moment anything happens. But it’s nice to hear your voice. I’m sorry I’m going to miss your solos tomorrow.”

  “Me, too. But you’ll get to hear me in the Christmas concert. Just wait. It’s the longest and best solo I’ve ever — What? But I’m right in the middle of —” Allie heard a muffled commotion on the other end of the line, and then Ruby said, “Oh, okay. Aunt Allie, Flora wants to talk to you.”

  “Hi, Aunt Allie! We just wanted to tell you we’re thinking about you,” said Flora. “And our cousin, of course. We’ll talk to you again soon.”

  “Thanks for calling, honey.” Allie clicked off her phone, but not before she heard Flora say, “Ruby, not everything is about you. We were calling to talk about the baby, not your solos.”

  Allie smiled as she continued along Fifth Avenue. She decided not to look in the children’s clothing store and instead marched resolutely north toward Midtown. At last, she glimpsed a long line of people snaking back and forth in front of brightly lit windows. She had reached Lord & Taylor — and what she personally considered to be the most splendid windows in the entire city. Allie joined the line. In front of her were two women and two little girls. The girls were about six and four, Allie guessed, dressed in woolen mittens and woolen scarves and woolen leg warmers and woolen hats. The younger one kept tugging at her mother’s hand and saying, “But I don’t see Santa anywhere!”

  “This isn’t the line for Santa,” said the older girl patiently. “This is the line for the windows. Look. We’re almost there.”

  “But I want to see Santa!”

  “But you can’t.”

  “But I want to!”

  Once again, Allie jumped when her coat began to play “Jingle Bells,” but this time she answered her phone more quickly. “Hello?” she said breathlessly, and the small girl turned around to stare at her. Allie’s heart was pounding. Please be Mrs. Prescott, she pleaded silently.

  “Allie? This is Gigi.”

  Allie sagged slightly but managed to say, “Gigi! What a surprise.”

  “Any news yet? Min told me what’s going on. Actually, she’s told everyone what’s going on. I just had to give you a call.”

  “Thank you,” said Allie. “Well, nothing’s happening. Nothing new, anyway. I haven’t heard from Mrs. Prescott today and that means the birth mother hasn’t gone into labor yet. Which is what the doctors want.”

  “This must be so nerve-wracking,” said Gigi. “All right. I won’t keep you.”

  Allie put her phone away again, and the line continued to snake toward the windows. Allie inched along with it. She was standing on tiptoe, trying to peer around a tall man wearing a hat, when, for the third time, “Jingle Bells” blared from her coat. Allie was prepared and whisked the phone out expertly, clicking the ON button before two seconds had passed.

  Please be Mrs. Prescott.

  “Hello?” said Allie.

  “Hello?” said a shaky voice.

  “Mr. Pennington?”

  “Allie?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Hello!”

  “Where am I reaching you? Min told me this is your cell phone number and, well, you could be anywhere.”

  Allie laughed. “I’m on Fifth Avenue, standing in line to see the windows at Lord and Taylor.”

  “My, my,” said Mr. Pennington. He paused. “I guess this means there isn’t any news yet.”

  “No.” Allie sighed. “Not yet … Um, Mr. Pennington? Could you please hold for a minute? I’m getting another call.” Allie pressed a button on her phone and crossed her fingers. “Hello?” she said.

  Please be Mrs. Prescott.

  “Allie? Hi, honey!”

  “Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Allie when she heard Min’s voice. “Mr. Pennington is on the other line. And Gigi has called, and Ruby and Flora have called. There’s no news.”

  “Well, I swan,” said Min. “I’m sorry. Call me later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Allie finished her call with Mr. Pennington just as she reached the first window. She gratefully dropped the phone back in her pocket and gazed at the scene before her. It was a nursery — it could have been the Darling children’s nursery in Peter Pan — decorated for Christmas. A pair of black boots was dangling down the chimney and hovering above the hearth, and the children in their beds kept sitting up and pointing to the boots with as much excitement as mechanical boys and girls could muster.

  Allie was trying to take in every detail of the window when she heard the first notes of “Jingle Bells” from her pocket. She grabbed the phone, almost laughing. “Hello?”

  “Allie? This is Mrs. Prescott.”

  For one brief instant, Allie thought she might faint. She stepped away from the crowd of people, not caring that she lost her place in the long line. “Mrs. Prescott?” she whispered.

  “I just heard from the hospital. The birth mother went into labor again after all.”

  Allie drew in her breath. “Is that bad news?”

  “Well, of course it would have been better if the baby could have waited a bit longer, but,” Mrs. Prescott paused, “but I don’t think this is bad news.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now it’s a matter of more waiting. I’ll keep you posted. I’ll call you every time I have an update.”

  Allie leaned against a lamppost. She thanked Mrs. Prescott and immediately phoned Min. “The baby is on its way,” she said, but she was so close to tears that Min couldn’t hear what she’d said and she had to repeat herself.

  “Oh, my,” said Min. “My stars and garters. I’ll spread the word.”

  “Thank you,” whispered Allie. She put her phone away, and now the tears spilled as she stood on Fifth Avenue, sniffling and wiping her eyes and searching for a tissue.

  “Mommy,” said the little girl who wanted to see Santa Claus. “Look. That lady is crying.”

  “They’re happy tears!” Allie called to the girl, and she turned and headed back downtown to the apartment.

  “Vacation, vacation! I love vacation!” chanted Ruby. “If I were a poet, I would write an ode to vacation. Or maybe I should write a song about it.”

  “Vacation is pretty wonderful,” agreed Flora. She and Ruby were lying end-to-end on the couch in the living room of the Row House, King Comma perched precariously on their knees, Daisy Dear on the floor.

  “I could spend the next four days doing nothing but this,” said Ruby with a sigh. “We didn’t even get any homework today.”

  “We did,” said Flora. “Oh, well.”

  The phone rang then and Ruby said lazily, “Let’s just let the machine answer it.”

  “No. It might be Min,” said Flora. “She’ll worry if we don’t pick up.” She passed off King Comma, staggered to her feet, and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

  “Are you ready to become a cousin?”

  “Min?” cried Flora. “What do you mean? We talked to Aunt Allie half an hour ago and —”

  “Mrs. Prescott just called her. The birth mother’s in labor.”

  “Ruby!” shrieked Flora. “The baby’s coming!”

  Ruby let out a shriek of her own. “Oh, my lord in heaven! I hope it’s a boy! I want a boy cousin!”

  “But Aunt Allie only has girl things,” Flora shouted, and then realized that she was shouting into Min’s ear. “Sorry,” she said.

  On the other end of the phone, Min was laughing. “It is exciting, isn’t it? Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.
I’ll see you and Ruby later.”

  Flora clicked off the phone, sat on the couch, staring at nothing, and then announced, “I have a great idea.”

  “Just like that?” asked Ruby.

  “Just like that. Okay. Here it is. You and Min and I should secretly get the nursery ready in case Aunt Allie brings the baby home when she comes back from New York. It would be a great surprise for her.”

  “Maybe the room is already ready,” said Ruby.

  “No, it isn’t. You didn’t see a nursery over there the last time we visited, did you?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Exactly. Now. Aunt Allie has three bedrooms — her room, our room, and the guest room. So she must be planning to turn the guest room into the nursery. Boy, she has a lot of work to do. That’s why we should do it for her.”

  “Yeah …” said Ruby slowly. “We could take all the stuff out of that weird baby supply closet and arrange it in the room.”

  “Also, we should baby-proof the house. I’d better call Min. We ought to get started right away.” Flora picked up the phone and dialed Needle and Thread.

  Min answered, and when Flora explained her idea, Min exclaimed, “Oh, honey! How lovely. Aunt Allie will be very touched. Listen, Gigi and I are going to close the store early today anyway. So let me finish things here, and then I’ll stop at the hardware store to pick up a few items. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “This is going to be so great,” said Flora rapturously. “And fun. I’m dying to fix up the nursery!”

  “But we can’t do everything,” Ruby pointed out. “We don’t have paint or wallpaper. And, hey, we don’t have a crib or a changing table or any of the big stuff.”

  Flora considered this. “Maybe Aunt Allie has them somewhere but she hasn’t set them up yet. Just like she hasn’t put out the clothes.”

  “Maybe,” said Ruby dubiously.

  “But probably not. Gosh, I wonder if we could borrow them before we leave for New York. Aunt Allie cannot bring the baby home to a guest room.”

  “She’s probably not going to be bringing the baby home on Sunday anyway, you know.”

  “I know.” And even as Flora said this, an uneasy thought surfaced in her mind. What if the birth parents decided to keep the baby? This was their baby, after all. Allie had said they might change their minds. That was why there was a waiting period after the birth. “Ruby,” Flora started to say.

  But Ruby was gazing dreamily out the window and hadn’t heard her sister. “What do you think we should name the baby?” she asked.

  “We? What about Aunt Allie?”

  Ruby shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be open to suggestions. Now, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that the perfect name is Douglas.”

  “That isn’t perfect for a girl,” Flora pointed out.

  “But if Aunt Allie doesn’t like it,” Ruby continued, “then I’d agree to Franklin. Or Pablo! What about Pablo?”

  “Hey, I have a question. What if the baby is a girl?”

  Ruby waved her hand impatiently. “Girls’ names are a dime a dozen.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” asked Flora.

  “I actually have no idea. I just want a boy.”

  “Well, I think we should be prepared for a girl. And if that happens, I hope Aunt Allie likes the name Whitney.”

  “For a girl?”

  “It’s a very trendy girl’s name,” said Flora with dignity.

  “Whatever happened to Susan? Or Emily or Sarah or … hey, Theresa is a nice name. We could call her Terry for short.”

  “Huh,” said Flora. “Not bad. But what about something a little more glamorous? Like Lily Sophia? Or Marilee Rose?”

  “Steven,” said Ruby.

  “Augustania,” said Flora.

  They were still discussing names when they heard a voice at the front door calling, “Hello? Girls?”

  Flora and Ruby jumped up from the couch and made a dash for the hallway.

  “Flora wants to name the baby Augustania!” wailed Ruby before Min had even removed her coat.

  “Ruby will only consider boys’ names!” exclaimed Flora.

  “Don’t you think you’re putting the cart before the horse?” was Min’s reply.

  “What?” said Ruby.

  “She means we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” said Flora, sounding maddeningly superior.

  “So before I hear another word about names, let’s concentrate on your wonderful idea.” Min hung up her coat and held out a bag from Zack’s hardware store. “Look in here.”

  Ruby whisked the bag out of Min’s hands and swung it away from Flora. She peered inside. “What is all this?”

  Flora grabbed the bag from Ruby. “I know what it is,” she exclaimed, pawing through the contents. “This is stuff for baby-proofing the house. You fasten these locks to cabinet doors so the baby can’t get into cleaning supplies and medicine. And you put these covers over electrical outlets so the baby can’t stick his fingers —”

  “His! You said his!” crowed Ruby. “You secretly think the baby is going to be a boy. You just won’t admit it.”

  “For the love of Mike.” Min took the bag from Flora and set it by the front door. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you two, but if you don’t calm down and start talking to each other like sisters instead of like cavemen” (Ruby resisted pointing out that she didn’t think cavemen had had much of a language system, and in any case she would be a cavewoman) “then you may not come with me to Allie’s. Now, the two of you had a lovely idea” (here Flora resisted pointing out that it was her idea alone) “and we could have a lot of fun carrying it out. But not unless you can be pleasant. So. I am about to get in the car. You are welcome to join me. Are you going to come along and be the agreeable girls I ate breakfast with this morning? Or shall I drop you off at Mr. Pennington’s on my way to Allie’s?”

  “Sorry, Min,” said Flora. “I want to go with you.”

  “Sorry, Min,” echoed Ruby. “I want to go, too.”

  “All right.”

  Twenty minutes later, Min, Flora, and Ruby were standing in the guest room on the second floor of Aunt Allie’s house.

  “I guess this is going to be the baby’s room,” said Flora.

  “Unless she turns our room into the nursery,” said Ruby in a small voice.

  “No,” said Min firmly. “I know that the room she fixed up for you is not to be changed. But after the baby arrives, it might be used as the guest room from time to time.” Min clapped her hands together. “Well, the first thing we should do is try to move the furniture out of here. We can put it in the attic.”

  “But what about furniture for the baby?” asked Ruby. “We were talking about that before you came home. Does Aunt Allie have a crib or anything?”

  “I don’t think so,” replied Min. “But I’ll bet we can borrow the essentials until Allie buys things of her own. I’ll start making some phone calls. You never know what people may have saved. I think I’ll start with the Morrises. They probably have some furniture stowed in their attic.”

  “Or their basement,” said Ruby knowledgeably, thinking of the Malones’ basement.

  Flora and Ruby set to work in the guest room.

  “We can take the bed apart. I think I know how to do that,” said Flora. “The headboard should come off. All we need is a screw driver. It isn’t going to be easy to carry the mattress and the box spring down the hall to the attic, though.”

  “But I bet we can do it,” said Ruby. “We can carry the dresser, too. It isn’t that big.”

  Flora and Ruby had managed to disassemble the bed and carry most of it into the attic by the time Min came hurrying up the stairs. “This is wonderful,” she said. “The Morrises still have their crib and a changing table, the Fongs have a Diaper Genie that they aren’t using for some reason, and if you can believe it, Mrs. Edwards says she has Robby’s dresser from when he was a baby.”

  “I can believe it,” said Ruby.<
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  “Everyone is going to bring the things over now.” Min paused. “I wish we had time to buy some clothes for the baby. Maybe I should phone Mrs. Fong back. Maybe she could lend us some of Grace’s things.”

  Flora and Ruby exchanged a glance, and Flora said, “I don’t really think you need to do that.”

  Min frowned. “Why not?”

  “Well, we didn’t tell you this,” said Ruby, “but a couple of months ago, we found something.” She took Min’s hand and tugged her down the hallway to the closet. “I wasn’t snooping when I opened this door. Honest!” (Ruby neglected to mention the sleuthing she’d done later.) “We felt like this was a secret of Aunt Allie’s, so we didn’t tell you …” Her voice trailed off.

  Min put her arm around Ruby. “You did the right thing,” was all she said. And then, “Goodness me! There’s practically an entire department store in here! I think it’s high time this closet was emptied out.”

  Flora felt her spirits lift. She and Ruby and Min carried armloads of baby clothes and supplies into the nursery. The doorbell rang as their neighbors began to arrive with the furniture — and with other things they had found. The Fongs brought a framed picture of a kitten as well as the Diaper Genie. Mrs. Edwards brought along a few of Robby’s old picture books. And Mr. Morris arrived with a rocking chair in addition to the other furniture.

  Min bustled around, arranging and rearranging the furniture with the help of Mr. Morris. Flora and Ruby tucked tiny shirts and blankets and socks and bibs into the drawers of the dresser.

  “I think,” said Ruby, standing back at last to admire their efforts, “that this is going to be the perfect room for Maxwell.”

  “Maxwell? What happened to Douglas?”

  “Nothing. I’m just considering my options.”

  “Well, I think it’s the perfect room for Honoria.”

  “Scott.”

  “Calpurnia.”

  “James.”

  “Kate.”

  “David.”

  “Emma.”

  “Girls,” said Min. She eyed them sternly and whispered, “Cavemen.”

  Ruby turned to Flora and whispered, “Cavewomen,” and Flora began to giggle helplessly.

 

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