One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story)

Home > Other > One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) > Page 38
One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) Page 38

by Mandy Baggot


  Cynthia shook her head. ‘Neither of them. Both extremely stupid and very selfish. She sighed. ‘I think, getting to sixty-five had surprised Richard already. He felt he’d had a good life and he was going to go out any way the good Lord saw fit. Oliver … well he’s been convinced he’s dying ever since Ben died.’

  Hayley shook her head. She couldn’t believe this. He had a chance. He might not have the gene and he wasn’t going to find out one way or the other. It was crazy. And he was selfish! Why wouldn’t he take the test? He could find out once and for all that he didn’t have this condition! She looked at Cynthia. ‘Did Richard have the defective gene in the end?’

  Cynthia nodded sadly. ‘No one knows how he survived as long as he did but I’m grateful for it every day.’

  * * *

  Marvin’s Ice Cream Emporium, Downtown Manhattan

  Today, in the middle of a snowstorm, ice cream was a big thing. Oliver let a breath go, watching it mix with the freezing air and twist with the exhaust fumes of the slow-moving traffic just in front of him.

  Hayley was trusting him here. Showing him that what they had started together really meant something to her. He had his first official date with Angel and he was petrified. He had no idea how to be, or what to do and he was now competing with a new father on the scene who, from all accounts, was adapting excellently to his new role.

  A yellow cab crawled up alongside the kerb and stopped. The back door opened and out Angel came. Winter boots on her feet, jeggings and a red woollen coat covering the rest of her. Her brown hair was tied up in two ponytails, reindeers on the elastic bands. She looked to him, wrinkling her nose slightly. He smiled, waved a hand. Angel just carried on looking.

  Hayley got out of the taxi and closed the door behind her, waving a thank you to the cabbie. His insides clenched at the sight of her, like they always did. He smiled and she didn’t respond either.

  ‘Hey,’ he greeted as they approached the entrance of Marvin’s Ice Cream Emporium.

  ‘Hey,’ Hayley responded, a frosty note to her tone.

  He clapped his hands together. ‘All ready to fill ourselves with the good stuff?’

  ‘We ate a lot at Romario’s at lunchtime,’ Angel informed.

  He frowned, pushing open the door for them. ‘You went to Romario’s?’

  ‘It was a business meeting, with your mum, about the fundraiser I’m not allowed to mention,’ Hayley stated, sweeping past him.

  ‘I didn’t say you couldn’t mention it.’ He took her arm. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I don’t know, Oliver, you tell me.’

  Her expression was hard and he really had no idea what he’d done to warrant it.

  ‘Ooo, Mum, they’ve got hundreds of different toppings!’ Angel exclaimed, excitedly, stepping onto the black and white tiled floor of the shop and looking to the counter.

  ‘Well, if you’ve got room around that loaf of garlic bread in your stomach then you go for it.’

  ‘Hey, Angel, let me show you what I always had here when I was your age.’ He stepped away from Hayley and led the way into the shop.

  ‘You came here when you were nine?’ Angel asked, looking up at him.

  ‘I started coming here before I could walk. My brother liked it,’ he stated, staring through the glass at the different containers of ice cream and toppings.

  ‘More than shrimp?’ Angel asked, fixing her gaze on him.

  The question took him by surprise. ‘How did you know he liked shrimp?’

  ‘Cynthia told us. We’re having shrimp for the starter at the McArthur Foundation fundraiser.’ Angel smiled proudly. ‘It was my idea. The main course is Mrs Futcher’s daughter’s favourite food and the pudding is a special cheesecake Mr Wright’s wife used to make before she got ill.’

  Oliver swallowed. It was wonderful and heart-breaking all rolled into one. Just like the foundation itself. He put a hand on Angel’s shoulder. ‘And you came up with that idea all by yourself? Your mom’s always telling me how smart you are. Now I really know.’

  * * *

  The smell of toffee, caramel, chocolate and cream was so powerful it was almost sending Hayley into a sugar coma on its own. But despite the sweet ambience it was difficult to be here, sharing this first proper meeting between Oliver and Angel, when she was so mad with him.

  ‘Can I have another bowl?’ Angel asked, looking up at them both, a chocolate button stuck to her chin.

  ‘Angel, you’ve had three already,’ Hayley reminded her.

  ‘I know but I really wanted to try the mince pie flavour and that’s limited edition. It mightn’t be here after Christmas Day.’ She batted her eyelashes at Hayley then turned the eyes on Oliver.

  ‘One more?’ Oliver asked, the question directed at Hayley.

  ‘She’s playing you,’ Hayley told him.

  ‘I know. I don’t care. It’s almost Christmas,’ he responded, grinning at Angel. ‘Go get yourself some more.’

  Angel leapt up and rushed to the counter while Hayley finally let out the sigh she’d been holding in for an hour.

  ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ Oliver asked, picking up his coffee cup and cradling it in his hands.

  Hayley folded her arms across her chest, her eyes going to Angel, ensuring she was far enough away not to hear.

  ‘When you told me you were going to die young you neglected to mention quite a crucial little thing.’ She stared at him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That there’s a test you can take to see if you have the rogue gene.’

  Oliver shook his head. ‘My mother told you that.’ He put the coffee cup down. ‘She had no right to.’

  ‘She had every right to. I’ve put my faith in you, Oliver, you’re meeting my daughter right here, in the capacity of someone I care deeply for, you should have told me.’

  ‘What difference does it make?’

  ‘You might not have the gene!’

  He shook his head again. ‘Don’t do that, Hayley. I’ve told you how things are. Don’t hang on to any false hope that I’m going to be drawing an annuity, because my condition is hereditary. My brother had it, my father had it, Grandpa Drummond …’

  ‘Oliver, for God’s sake, there’s a test to take. Even if you do have the condition at least you’ll know for certain.’

  ‘I do know for certain. I’ve been having warning signs for months now.’

  ‘Then take the test and get a little piece of paper that says you’re going to die young. It’s clarity. It’s being prepared. It’s …’

  ‘Being reminded.’

  ‘You’re being bloody-minded and selfish,’ Hayley spat. ‘I want to know. I want to see it in black and white. Because until I do I’m always going to be hoping it’s not true.’

  He let out a sigh. ‘You told me you could deal with this.’

  ‘I can, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m still into the Miracle on 34th Street kind of thing.’ She sighed. ‘And you of all people should still have some faith in wishes.’

  She watched his reaction to her words, hiding her lips in her cup of hot chocolate. She knew confirming what he thought would be hard for both of them but there was a tiny part of her still gripping tight to the belief that life couldn’t be that cruel to this family, or to her.

  ‘When they wrote to us, the test was still in its early stages. They used the words experimental and risk.’

  ‘Anything’s got to be better than nothing, hasn’t it? And things will have moved on.’

  She watched him, his eyes looking into the mid-distance, as if a hundred thoughts were invading his brain at once. Was she asking too much of him? In a week she would be returning home and what happened to their relationship then? There was only so much you could do on FaceTime.

  Finally he nodded. ‘If it means that much to you …’ He reached for her hands and joined them with his. ‘If clarification is what you need then … I’ll do it, I’ll take the test.’

  Joy
filled her up and she smiled, squeezing his hands tight. ‘Thank you, Clark.’

  ‘Oliver!’ Angel called. ‘Shall I have rainbow sprinkles or chocolate chips?’

  Oliver smiled at Hayley, letting go of her hands and getting up from his chair. ‘Are you really asking me that question, smart kid? You know the answer, have both!’

  57

  Oliver Drummond’s Penthouse, Downtown Manhattan

  Oliver watched Hayley sleeping. Flat on her back, mouth open, gentle noises coming from her nose, her now shorter brown hair a shaggy, yet attractive, mess on the pillow. He couldn’t believe she was still here, still with him. Knowing everything now. She was right. He’d ignored the test for far too long. If, in his heart, he already knew the outcome, there was nothing to lose. And Hayley needed this. Until she saw it for herself, on a report, she’d still be holding out for that Christmas miracle. If they were going to be together then she needed definite clarification about what she’d signed up for. He’d arranged the hospital appointment. Today.

  He reached out to her, weaving his fingers into her hair, then softly moving strands from her face. Whatever the outcome he wasn’t going to run from his future anymore. Living every moment didn’t mean only embracing frivolity. It was focussing on what mattered. Who mattered.

  Hayley smiled, her eyes remaining closed. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘Anything you want,’ he whispered.

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘But don’t you have a meeting with my mom at the Crystalline?’

  Hayley’s eyes sprung open then. ‘What time is it?’ She sat up, looking for the bedside clock.

  ‘It’s a little before eight.’

  Hayley threw off the duvet. ‘I have to get up. I have to go. Dean has work and I need to get Angel and I wanted to call the woman about the flowers and …’ She made to spring from the bed but he held her down.

  ‘I hear Dean has a very understanding boss.’

  ‘Who now knows the name of every member of staff thanks to flash cards.’

  ‘It’s all about the team.’

  ‘I know. And that’s why I have to get up.’

  ‘Stop,’ he ordered, moving over her. ‘Take a breath.’

  ‘I don’t have time to take a breath. If I waste time taking a breath there won’t be time for coffee.’ She batted her eyelids. ‘Make me coffee?’

  ‘When you’ve said a proper good morning.’

  He looked down at her, waiting for the flicker of understanding to reach her expression. He held himself over her, pausing for her reaction.

  ‘I thought I spent quite a lot of time last night saying goodnight,’ she responded, grinning.

  ‘It was the best goodnight I’ve ever had.’

  ‘I don’t know if I have the energy for good morning too.’ She stretched her body upwards, leaning forward and clasping her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.

  ‘You could skip coffee,’ he suggested, kissing her lips.

  ‘Hydration is important,’ she said, dropping the lightest kiss on his mouth.

  ‘It’s minus five out there not a thirty degree heat wave.’

  ‘I’ll be late for your mum.’

  ‘Blame me.’

  He kissed her hard, pushing her back against the sheets until she gave in, matching his passion with her own, her hands reaching over his shoulders, her fingers tracing the contours of his back.

  She pulled away and looked at him with suspicion in her eyes. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘How come you have all this time on your hands? Don’t you need to be sorting out the Regis Software mess and dealing with the firing-the-traitor debacle and protecting the Globe like you have been the rest of the week?’

  ‘Not this morning.’ He swallowed.

  ‘You have the morning off?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ He sighed and shifted his weight from her, turning back to the other side of the bed. He was going to tell her. Of course he was going to tell her. He just knew as soon as he did it would be the only thing she was focussing on.

  ‘Well? You have to tell me.’

  He settled himself back on the pillows, dragging the duvet up his body a little self-consciously. He let out a sigh as the seriousness of what he was going to do today hit him hard. ‘I’m going to the hospital.’

  The air thickened and the seconds seemed to pass by so slowly. Finally she spoke.

  ‘Don’t you mean we are going to the hospital? Because I’m taking a guess you’re not going for a tetanus shot.’

  ‘No,’ he said, nodding.

  ‘Then I’m coming with you.’ She moved in the bed, shifting onto her knees so she was facing him.

  ‘You don’t have to do that. I said I was going to take the test and I am.’

  Hayley laughed then. ‘You think the only reason I want to come is to make sure you go through with it?’ She thumped his arm with her knuckles. ‘I want to support you. I want to find out. I want to be there when you get the results.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s kind of the reason I wanted to go alone.’

  ‘Well, that makes no sense unless you’re going to run for the hills and say we’re over.’ She frowned at him. ‘Is that what you were going to do?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then I’m coming with you.’ She slipped out of bed, grabbed Oliver’s Knicks T-shirt and pulled it over her head. ‘What time is the appointment?’

  ‘Eleven thirty.’

  ‘Good. I’ll grab Angel, I’ll meet with your mum and I’ll meet you at the hospital.’ She padded towards the kitchen on bare feet. ‘Same hospital where you were mean and cruel and I swore I was never going to forgive you?’

  ‘Yeah, St Patrick’s. What are you doing?’ he called, watching her.

  She turned back to face him. ‘Making sure we’re both hydrated. Do you have any bacon?’

  He smiled, pulling the duvet up around him. Just what had he done to deserve this woman?

  * * *

  Dean Walker’s Apartment, Downtown Manhattan

  ‘Is that eggs I can smell? Because I haven’t had eggs this morning and …’ Hayley burst through into the kitchen but stopped talking at the sight of Michel by the hob, Angel at his side. ‘Oh, hello. Where’s Dean?’

  ‘Hi, Mum. We’re making eggy bread.’

  Michel turned to face her. ‘He had to go to work early.’

  ‘Oh, well he didn’t ring me.’

  ‘He said he did call but you didn’t answer. Angel, you hold this very carefully, it is very hot,’ Michel instructed, passing the fish slice to her.

  Hayley delved into her rucksack for her iPhone. There were five missed calls. She checked the side. It was switched to silent.

  ‘So, Dean called you?’ Hayley asked.

  Michel shook his head. ‘I came here to speak to you. I wanted to take Angel to another gallery. Dean said you were not here, he needed to go for work, I offered to come to be with Angel until you got here.’

  Hayley let out a sigh and put her bag down on the breakfast bar. She needed to stop being so suspicious of everyone’s motives with Angel. Michel was her father and for the past few days he had been a walking, talking vision of what a good dad should be. He hadn’t pushed or raised expectations or made any promises he hadn’t kept. It was going well. He was a good man doing his very best with this new situation and perhaps she ought to give him more credit for that.

  ‘Everything is OK?’ Michel asked, coming over to her.

  ‘Yes … sorry.’ She swallowed. ‘It’s just all this is very new and very different and so much is going on at the moment.’

  ‘I understand. I feel the same way.’

  ‘The edges are going brown,’ Angel called.

  ‘That is OK,’ Michel said. ‘Just move the bread gently with the spatula.’

  ‘I hope there’s enough for me,’ Hayley called. ‘But I’ll have to eat it on the run.’

&n
bsp; ‘You are busy today?’ Michel asked.

  ‘Yes, the McArthur Foundation fundraiser is tomorrow night and I have a tonne of things to do for that and I also … need to be somewhere at eleven thirty.’

  ‘I will have Angel,’ Michel said.

  ‘Oh no, Michel, you don’t have to do that. I can take Angel with me and …’

  ‘This is stupid. I want to take her to the gallery. I wish to show her some of my work. I can do this. I can take her for lunch. We can visit the Museum of Modern Art maybe?’

  Hayley nodded. She needed to let go. She knew that. And Michel had this. But it was harder than she had ever thought. Being solely in charge for so long it was still so difficult to pass over some of the responsibility.

  ‘I love to spend time with her, Hayley,’ Michel said quietly, his attention turning to Angel. ‘I have missed out on all these years before.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered, feeling a pang of guilt take hold.

  ‘And when you go home, I want to make arrangements to visit. I can come to England or you could come here.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I do not want to lose this connection now.’

  ‘Going darker brown now!’ Angel shouted.

  ‘I will come,’ Michel called back. He gave his attention back to Hayley. ‘You are her mother. You are the one calling the shots, of course. I just wish to have some more time with her in the future. If you are happy with that.’

  ‘Michel!’ Angel screamed. ‘There are black bits!’

  Hayley looked at him. ‘We will work something out.’

  He smiled. ‘Good. Now, you will take this eggy bread and you will go to your meetings. Angel and I will be fine.’

  ‘Dad!’ Angel yelled. ‘It’s burning!’

  A lump shot up into Hayley’s throat at the way Angel had addressed him. She looked to Michel and saw an expression nothing short of pure elation. She reached out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it in hers. ‘We will work something out.’

  58

  The Crystalline Hotel, Manhattan

 

‹ Prev