One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story)

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘No, it’s the name of the statue you were looking at. Prometheus. He’s a Greek god and this one is actually made of bronze, not gold.’

  ‘Angel, you are coming to skate?’ Michel called, beckoning her.

  ‘Go on,’ Hayley said, still not making any moves. ‘Go and skate.’

  ‘Reason 23 why Christmas is better in New York, ice skating next to a Greek god,’ Angel said, slowly removing her fingers from the edge of the ice rink.

  ‘Yup, pretty cool. So, off you go,’ Hayley urged.

  Angel stared at her, unmoving. ‘You’re going to wait until my back’s turned and then you’re going to sneak off to the café.’

  ‘How very dare you! As if I would!’

  Her daughter knew her far too well. The skates were already pinching her toes.

  ‘Come on!’ Michel shouted. ‘We come here to skate!’

  Hayley pulled a face. ‘I don’t remember him being this bossy.’

  ‘Come on, Mum. I’ll hold your hand,’ Angel said, gingerly moving on the ice, her hand held out to Hayley.

  ‘I’m not sure ice skating is going to be me,’ she said, putting one foot in front of the other but pausing before the ice.

  ‘I’m not sure green vegetables are really me but you still make me eat them. Come on!’

  Angel pulled her forwards and, before she could do anything to stop herself, she was on the ice, her feet slipping and sliding away from her like a newborn fawn.

  ‘Angel! Don’t you let me go!’

  ‘Stop pulling on me! You’ll stretch my new coat,’ Angel screamed.

  ‘I can’t stand still!’

  ‘It’s ice skating, you’re not supposed to stand still!’

  ‘This is all wrong. It’s unnatural I tell you!’

  With her arms flailing and her legs kicking, Hayley screamed as Michel took her arm and she grabbed him with both hands in desperation.

  ‘Whose idea was this?’ she exclaimed, her fingers digging into his coat as he held her up.

  ‘Angel wanted to come,’ Michel reminded her.

  ‘The child is evil,’ Hayley said, narrowing her eyes at her daughter.

  ‘Come on,’ Michel said. ‘I will help you.’ He skated backwards, letting her hold onto his arms.

  ‘Wait for me!’ Angel shouted, trying to follow them without falling.

  * * *

  Oliver had followed them. He’d left Clara and the office behind with the sole intention of … what? What had he really been thinking when he left Drummond Global and headed for Dean Walker’s apartment? He wanted to see Hayley again. Why? To torture himself? To remind him what he’d had for a short time? What he’d let go? What he’d given up on? Or did he really want to do something he’d never done before?

  He watched them from the sidelines. To any onlooker they would appear to be the perfect family. A couple, the man helping his partner, their child trying to keep up with them. Maybe they could be in time. Perhaps that was what Fate had in store for Hayley. Was this his final visual message to leave well alone?

  He let a breath go, watching it thicken in the air. He could leave, right now, and she’d never know he’d been here. With Michel and the McArthur Foundation fundraiser she already had so much going on in her life. It wasn’t fair to burden her with something else. What they’d had had been fun, exciting. She didn’t need what he would bring to the table. It was selfish to tell her, wasn’t it? It would be for his benefit. To prove he could tell someone? That wasn’t fair.

  He watched her, letting go of Michel and trying to move of her own accord. Hair poking out from under a red woollen hat, some crazy jumper sleeves over her sweater, knees bent inwards. She was smiling. She was happy. He should go.

  And then it happened, their eyes connected. Across the ice, skaters circling around the rink between their locked vision. His mouth dried up, along with his resolve. He couldn’t look away.

  * * *

  It was Oliver. Standing on the edge of the rink, looking back at her. Her stomach contracted, she wobbled on her skates and before she could right herself her bottom met the ice with a bang.

  ‘Mum, are you all right?’ Angel skated up to her, now moving like a professional.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. This part is well padded.’ She flicked her legs, shifting her feet to try and get traction. ‘Get me up.’

  Angel bent double, taking Hayley’s hands in hers and straining to shift her.

  ‘Hurry up, Angel.’ Her heart was racing. Oliver was here, at the ice-skating rink? Why? What was he doing here? Was he here to see her? She needed to find out. Despite everything, her body was urging her to get off the ice and go to him. She looked again, across the ice, twisting her head to reconnect with him. He wasn’t there.

  ‘I can’t move you! You’re too heavy!’ Angel screamed. ‘It’s all the fizzy wine!’

  ‘Let me help you,’ Michel said, appearing beside them with a stop on the ice that Robin Cousins would have been proud of.

  ‘No, it’s too late.’ Hayley began to unlace her boots. ‘These are coming off.’

  ‘What? You cannot do this,’ Michel told her.

  ‘Mum! What are you doing?’

  ‘I … just … I need to run.’ She wrenched the boot from her left foot. ‘I can’t run in these. I can’t even skate in these.’ She pulled at the second boot. ‘Hold onto them for me.’

  She thrust the blades at Michel and started sprinting in her socks across the ice rink, much to the amusement of the other skaters.

  Her heart was driving the blood around her body as the freezing surface beneath her feet scalded her soles. She ran like she was treading on broken glass, hopping off the rink and scouring the onlookers for Oliver.

  ‘Oliver!’ she called, seeking out anything familiar that would lead to him. His dark coat, the tawny colour of his hair, his stance, the shape of his shoulders. She skidded past a woman carrying a tray of coffee and mince pies, her eyes metres ahead, picking off strangers, frantic to find him. And then she saw him, walking briskly towards the exit. She injected more pace into her run.

  ‘Oliver Drummond! Don’t you leave!’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Stop right there!’

  It was like someone had hit a pause button on life. Everything halted. Chatter stopped, the sound of Michael Bublé quietened, people turned to look at her and the only sounds still audible were the blades of the skaters on the ice.

  She was breathing hard as she watched him stop. Then he turned around, his eyes finding hers through the crowd. She stepped on, quickly closing the gap between them as everyone around went back to what they were doing.

  She looked up at him, suddenly filled with nervousness. She wet her lips.

  ‘So, you thought you’d come here and show off your silky skating skills huh?’ She forced a nervous smile.

  ‘I’ve been kept amused for the past ten minutes by yours,’ he stated.

  ‘I aim to please. It’s all deliberate. It’s a new genre of ice dance, a bit like body-popping,’ she replied, putting an arm out then letting her forearm dangle from the elbow.

  He nodded and the atmosphere cooled. She didn’t know what to say but she had to say something. And not something verging on the ridiculous. Something real. She didn’t want things to be how they were between them.

  ‘Michel’s here,’ she stated.

  ‘I saw,’ he replied. ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘What you did, finding him I mean, it was such a wonderful thing and …’

  He shook his head. ‘You don’t need to thank me.’

  She watched him swallow, agitation in his stance.

  ‘I was never completely honest with you, Hayley.’

  She frowned then. ‘You weren’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘O-K.’

  ‘I’m not sure I really want to be honest now but … I feel I owe it you.’ He smiled. ‘Do you want to get a coffee?’ He looked down at her feet. ‘And maybe your shoes?’

  54
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  The Rockefeller Center Ice Rink, New York

  Hayley ditched the jumper sleeves and let the cardboard cup warm her hands as she watched Michel with Angel on the ice. Holding hands, laughing, getting faster with every circuit, her daughter was having the time of her life.

  ‘He seems to be taking to it,’ Oliver remarked. ‘Fatherhood.’

  She looked at him. ‘It’s like a first date. Neither of them really know what to say or do. I’m hoping there’ll be a second but it’s a difficult situation.’ She sighed. ‘And it takes a lot more than skating and hot dogs to make a parent.’ She smiled, her eyes on him. ‘What is it you need to tell me?’

  She watched him put his coffee cup to his mouth and take a sip of the liquid. He turned to her, adopting a serious expression then clearing his throat. ‘It’s about my Wish Women really,’ he stated. ‘And, the reason I meet women that way.’

  She could see he was struggling to get the words out and she clamped her lips shut before something inappropriate spilled out.

  ‘The truth is, Hayley … I can’t give anyone a future with me,’ he stated.

  Hayley nodded her head up and down. ‘I understand. We’re not dissimilar. I’ve not introduced any man to Angel for the very same reason. There are no guarantees and if you’re going to put a lot of time and effort into something there has to be some sort of assurance, or at least definite intentions. Dates and one nights are OK as long as everyone is on the same page.’

  ‘It isn’t that.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘This is so hard.’ He put his cup down on the wooden railing.

  ‘Just tell me, Clark,’ she begged. She was nervous. Whatever he had to say sounded serious. ‘Just take a deep breath and get it out there.’

  ‘OK,’ he agreed, filling his lungs with the chilly air. ‘OK.’

  She waited, letting the steam from her cup caress her cheeks as she watched him.

  ‘The reason Ben died was because he had a defective gene.’ He sighed. ‘Ready for the science bit? Well, there’s something called a calmodulin protein, which is a kind of sensor that measures calcium in the heart cells and regulates heart rhythm. Ben’s didn’t work properly and it caused a sudden cardiac arrest.’ He took a shaky breath. ‘And he died.’

  ‘I know all about that now,’ she said softly. ‘I read his story on the McArthur Foundation website.’

  He nodded. ‘Of course you did.’ He put a hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it. ‘Hayley … I have the same defective gene.’ He swallowed. ‘And because of that … I don’t know how long I have to live.’

  * * *

  His heart was kicking him right this second. Drumming hard and irregular beats as he watched for her reaction. Right now she was looking confused, gripping the cardboard cup a little too hard, her eyes small, as if she was trying to understand exactly what he’d said. He needed to hammer home his point. She needed to be clear. If anything it would make her see how much better an option Michel was.

  ‘My brother had it, he died before he was thirty. My grandfather too, dropped dead at the same age, he had it. And my father only made it to sixty-five. It’s what the Drummonds do. We work ourselves into the ground and then we die.’

  Hayley was shaking her head, tears bubbling up in her eyes. This was what he’d wanted to avoid. Her pain. This reaction right now. He could feel the tearing of her insides, the kick to her gut and the punch to her heart.

  ‘Listen,’ he said, reaching out for her hands. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘This is what happened wasn’t it? In your apartment, after our date, when I had to call the ambulance …’

  He nodded. ‘I should have told you then. But all I could think about was how much faith you’d put in me just going on that one date and that I’d somehow duped you into being there. Because, despite the crap I came out with at St. Patrick’s, that date meant something to me, Hayley.’ He paused. ‘And the more it meant, the worse the situation was. So I did what I always do when faced with anything remotely emotional, I switched off, I pulled back and …’ He looked to the ice rink. ‘I found you a replacement.’

  Her tears were falling now, dripping down her face, her reddened cheeks bitten by the harsh New York weather. He wanted to kiss her tears away, make her pain stop but he held off.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered, moving a strand of her hair away from her face.

  ‘I want to cry.’

  ‘I don’t want you to cry.’

  ‘Well they aren’t your tears so I’ll do what I want with them.’

  He held onto her hands, locking their fingers together until they were bound tight. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you, Hayley, and I’m sorry I let you down.’

  ‘Shut up. Just stop talking,’ she ordered. ‘I don’t want to hear any more sorrys from someone who’s been living a half-life, picking up random women and having an intimate relationship with an android tablet.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  He watched her close her eyes, then she tightened her grip on their interlocked fingers. She was so beautiful. He would happily spend the rest of his life just looking at her. He swallowed. He had given up on that chance, but at least now he had finally been honest. All he wanted was for her to be happy. Maybe with Michel she could be.

  She snapped open her eyes, holding his gaze.

  ‘I actually think it’s pretty presumptuous of you to assume I wouldn’t be interested in what we have just because you have a rapidly expiring eat by date.’

  ‘Eat by date?’

  ‘Short shelf life. Use by.’

  He shook his head, unable to keep the smile from his lips. ‘Food.’

  ‘It scares the hell out of me, Oliver.’ Her voice shook. ‘And … I have to think of Angel.’

  He watched her swallow, drop her eyes for a second. Of course she was right. What good was a dying man to a nine-year-old? Especially one who had spent her whole life without a father figure. The child needed more than he could ever give her.

  ‘But I also know that I’ve spent the last nine years on my own with my daughter and I’m not about to pass up something special just because I might end up being alone again some day.’ She sighed. ‘I thought that for a minute when Michel almost didn’t come through. I thought maybe it had to be just me and Angel, two girls road-tripping through life, not letting anyone else in. But … life’s all about taking chances isn’t it?’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘We all know the end destination, it’s all about the stops along the way.’ She smiled. ‘And how boring would it be if everything was calculated like Sat-Nav?’ She squeezed his hands again, bunching them tightly in hers. ‘The Oliver I know isn’t afraid of anything. And he’s clever and funny and ever so slightly sexy and …’

  ‘Whoa, hold up there a second. Ever so slightly sexy?’ He twisted their fingers together. ‘I challenge that.’

  ‘I challenge you back. I challenge you to take a chance on me, because however this pans out I want to start something with you … here, now … then via Skype, seeing as there’s a little distance issue, but …’ She paused. ‘I want to be more than just the woman you called Lois once. That’s what I deserve, not this talk of replacements and switching off.’ She held his gaze. ‘And it’s what you deserve too. Me and Angel, two crazy chicks who won’t bore you with wishes but might want you to join in singing to Lip-Synch Battle.’ She smiled. ‘Something real.’

  He gazed into her eyes, seeing her feelings for him so openly displayed. He swallowed. He was a fool to think he could live without trying to love. And he did love her. He loved her. Whatever time he had left he wanted to fill it with feelings just like this.

  He pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her, loving the way she fell against his body. ‘God, how could I think I could live without you?’

  ‘Yeah, how could you?’ She took a step back from him, picked up her jumper sleeves and wiped her eyes with them. ‘Multiple uses. I should patent these.’

  He swallowed,
then let out a breath. ‘I am scared, Hayley.’

  ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Me too. But the way my ice skating’s been going today there’s every chance I’ll be dying before you.’

  ‘Do you look on the bright side of everything?’

  ‘Is your glass always half empty?’

  He smiled. ‘I’m not going to win this one, am I?’

  ‘You know how I am with the last word.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So, there we are.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m not letting you have it.’

  ‘Oh yes, you are.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  He cupped her face with his hands, pressing his lips to hers and pushing her body back against the Perspex surround of the rink. He’d never met anyone like her.

  * * *

  Hayley was feeling that deep pull of longing again, just from the touch of his mouth. He was stripping her bare with his kiss, setting fire to her heart. She wound her fingers through his hair and dragged him closer still.

  ‘Mum!’

  Angel’s voice had her falling away from Oliver and jarring her elbow on the railing. ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Why are you kissing Mr Meanie?’ Angel hissed as Michel skated up to join her.

  ‘Mr Meanie?’ Oliver said.

  Hayley smiled. ‘Michel, this is Oliver Drummond.’

  Angel pulled a face and folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘It is nice to meet you,’ Michel greeted, holding his hand out to Oliver.

  ‘Likewise. I’ve been watching your moves on the ice there. Did you play hockey?’ Oliver asked, shaking Michel’s hand.

  ‘Oh no, in Belgium we skate just for fun,’ he answered. ‘You are coming on the rink?’

  ‘I don’t think so, I …’ Oliver began.

  Hayley tugged at his sleeve. ‘Why not? Didn’t you tell me you were an expert on skates?’

  ‘I may have exaggerated a little and I haven’t done it for years,’ Oliver added.