Christmas at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 50
‘You’re at your mum’s?’
‘Yes,’ said Polly. ‘The baby’s coming and I don’t want to risk the tides.’
‘The baby’s coming?’
‘Look at your messages!’
‘Yeah, well… But you’re still working.’
‘Reuben wants catering,’ said Polly.
There was a pause.
‘I can’t get down,’ said Huckle.
‘Well I don’t think it’s imminent. I think first babies take ages.’
There was a silence.
‘Okay,’ said Huckle finally. ‘Well, I can tell you’re busy.’
Don’t let me be busy, Polly tried to silently beam to him. Come back. Whisk me out of this. Make everything lovely and fun again.
‘I guess you’re busy too,’ she said.
‘Oh, you’d better believe it,’ said Huckle.
There was another long pause.
‘How’s Neil?’
‘Not here,’ confessed Polly.
‘You left him alone on Christmas Day?’ said Huckle.
‘I know, I know. I’ll make it up to him. Can puffins eat chocolate?’
Chapter Thirty-Four
The triumphant text message had arrived before Polly had a chance to heat up the fryer for the doughnuts. She offered to take her mother, who’d declined, but nicely, and said she’d see her in a few days.
Polly walked down the hospital corridor, all nerves. The swanky private wing was, she was slightly aggrieved to note, nicer than most places she’d ever lived in. Oh well. Even so, the Christmas decorations seemed a little forced. Someone had made a gigantic star out of cardboard bedpans. It was kind of revolting and charming at the same time. The nurses were wearing Santa hats, as were several of the patients, which looked rather sad.
She found the right room without too much trouble, partly because it was covered in hundreds of absurdly gigantic blue helium balloons, and a line of muffin baskets that stretched out the door. Americans, Polly remembered, liked to celebrate this kind of thing.
She took a deep breath, and knocked gently.
Inside, it was chaos. Kerensa was sitting up in bed looking exhausted and anxious but tender and strange all at the same time. Reuben was jabbering into his mobile by the window.
‘Yeah! Yeah! He’s perfect! He’s awesome! Seriously, I’m telling you, you wouldn’t get a better child than this. We’re seriously considering getting him a special tutor, because I’m telling you now, this kid is smart. I mean, better than smart, I mean super smart…’
‘How are you,’ mouthed Polly, as she gingerly tried to embrace Kerensa without accidentally whacking the baby on the head with her handbag.
Kerensa smiled tiredly.
‘Well that was interesting,’ she said.
‘By interesting do you mean heartily disgusting?’ asked Polly.
‘It’s really, really disgusting,’ said Kerensa. ‘I don’t know why anyone does it. Honestly. It’s rubbish.’
Her voice went a bit wobbly and Polly thought she was about to cry, so then, of course, they both did start to cry.
Finally Polly plucked up the courage to look down.
He was just… he was just a baby. Dark fronds of hair on his head, eyes tightly shut, looking like an astronaut who’d just landed from another world and taken his suit off but still carried the faint aura of other-worldliness and stardust.
Polly blinked.
‘He’s beautiful, Kerensa.’
‘I know!’ said Kerensa, snuffling.
Reuben was still hollering into the phone and wasn’t paying them any attention. Polly took Kerensa’s hand and squeezed it very tightly. Then she offered the baby a finger, and he grabbed on to it without opening his eyes.
‘That’s amazing,’ she said, feeling his tiny grip. His little mouth worked, looking for something.
‘Oh don’t be hungry,’ said Kerensa. ‘I tell you, breastfeeding is also disgusting. And impossible.’
‘Keep at it,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, I will,’ said Kerensa. ‘He’s obviously loving it. Plus Reuben says it gives you a bunch of IQ points, and we’re already raising the greatest genius the world has ever known, obviously.’
Polly smiled.
‘Hey, Polls!’ said Reuben, finishing his call. ‘Meet my awesome son, huh! Awesome son, going to take on the world, blah blah blah.’
His face went uncharacteristically soft for a moment and he lowered the phone that was usually superglued to his fingers. He moved away from the window and stared deep into the baby’s face. Polly found she was holding her breath. He put his hand on the baby’s head.
‘Huh, dark hair,’ he said. ‘Normally the Finkels have, you know…’ He indicated his own ginger locks.
‘That’s just cowl hair,’ said Kerensa incredibly fast. ‘It’ll come out. It’s not his real hair.’
‘No, no, it’s cool, I like dark hair,’ said Reuben, gazing at the baby. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he, Polly? Don’t you think he’s the most beautiful baby there’s ever been? And super smart. He totally aced his Apgar test. First exam he ever had, and he aced it.’
Polly blinked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘What are you calling him?’
Kerensa and Reuben exchanged glances.
‘Ah,’ said Kerensa.
‘What?’ said Reuben. ‘Herschel’s a great family name.’
‘Herschel,’ said Kerensa. ‘Herschel Finkel.’
‘Ohh,’ said Polly, putting a polite expression on her face. ‘That sounds nice.’
‘Hershy? Hersch? Herscho?’ said Kerensa. ‘What’s wrong with Lowin?’
‘That’s lovely,’ said Polly.
‘Yeah, right,’ said Reuben. ‘Way to get him bullied at school.’
‘Oh and Herschel Finkel isn’t?’
‘Nothing wrong with it,’ said Reuben stoutly.
‘We’ll get round to sorting out the name,’ said Kerensa.
Just then Rhonda and Merv burst into the room with huge shopping bags full of clothes and, absurdly, lots and lots of toys, which, given that the baby was at the moment not much more than a floppy fish, was a bit hard to understand.
‘Here he is! The most beautiful boy in the world! Aren’t you! Aren’t you, my gorgeous? You’re going to be a true Finkel, aren’t you? You come to your bubbe!’ And the new grandmother bent her teased, backcombed head and covered the tiny face in kisses, leaving bright pink lipstick traces wherever she went.
‘Yes,’ said Polly. ‘The baby’s coming and I don’t want to risk the tides.’
‘The baby’s coming?’
‘Look at your messages!’
‘Yeah, well… But you’re still working.’
‘Reuben wants catering,’ said Polly.
There was a pause.
‘I can’t get down,’ said Huckle.
‘Well I don’t think it’s imminent. I think first babies take ages.’
There was a silence.
‘Okay,’ said Huckle finally. ‘Well, I can tell you’re busy.’
Don’t let me be busy, Polly tried to silently beam to him. Come back. Whisk me out of this. Make everything lovely and fun again.
‘I guess you’re busy too,’ she said.
‘Oh, you’d better believe it,’ said Huckle.
There was another long pause.
‘How’s Neil?’
‘Not here,’ confessed Polly.
‘You left him alone on Christmas Day?’ said Huckle.
‘I know, I know. I’ll make it up to him. Can puffins eat chocolate?’
Chapter Thirty-Four
The triumphant text message had arrived before Polly had a chance to heat up the fryer for the doughnuts. She offered to take her mother, who’d declined, but nicely, and said she’d see her in a few days.
Polly walked down the hospital corridor, all nerves. The swanky private wing was, she was slightly aggrieved to note, nicer than most places she’d ever lived in. Oh well. Even so, the Christmas decorations seemed a little forced. Someone had made a gigantic star out of cardboard bedpans. It was kind of revolting and charming at the same time. The nurses were wearing Santa hats, as were several of the patients, which looked rather sad.
She found the right room without too much trouble, partly because it was covered in hundreds of absurdly gigantic blue helium balloons, and a line of muffin baskets that stretched out the door. Americans, Polly remembered, liked to celebrate this kind of thing.
She took a deep breath, and knocked gently.
Inside, it was chaos. Kerensa was sitting up in bed looking exhausted and anxious but tender and strange all at the same time. Reuben was jabbering into his mobile by the window.
‘Yeah! Yeah! He’s perfect! He’s awesome! Seriously, I’m telling you, you wouldn’t get a better child than this. We’re seriously considering getting him a special tutor, because I’m telling you now, this kid is smart. I mean, better than smart, I mean super smart…’
‘How are you,’ mouthed Polly, as she gingerly tried to embrace Kerensa without accidentally whacking the baby on the head with her handbag.
Kerensa smiled tiredly.
‘Well that was interesting,’ she said.
‘By interesting do you mean heartily disgusting?’ asked Polly.
‘It’s really, really disgusting,’ said Kerensa. ‘I don’t know why anyone does it. Honestly. It’s rubbish.’
Her voice went a bit wobbly and Polly thought she was about to cry, so then, of course, they both did start to cry.
Finally Polly plucked up the courage to look down.
He was just… he was just a baby. Dark fronds of hair on his head, eyes tightly shut, looking like an astronaut who’d just landed from another world and taken his suit off but still carried the faint aura of other-worldliness and stardust.
Polly blinked.
‘He’s beautiful, Kerensa.’
‘I know!’ said Kerensa, snuffling.
Reuben was still hollering into the phone and wasn’t paying them any attention. Polly took Kerensa’s hand and squeezed it very tightly. Then she offered the baby a finger, and he grabbed on to it without opening his eyes.
‘That’s amazing,’ she said, feeling his tiny grip. His little mouth worked, looking for something.
‘Oh don’t be hungry,’ said Kerensa. ‘I tell you, breastfeeding is also disgusting. And impossible.’
‘Keep at it,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, I will,’ said Kerensa. ‘He’s obviously loving it. Plus Reuben says it gives you a bunch of IQ points, and we’re already raising the greatest genius the world has ever known, obviously.’
Polly smiled.
‘Hey, Polls!’ said Reuben, finishing his call. ‘Meet my awesome son, huh! Awesome son, going to take on the world, blah blah blah.’
His face went uncharacteristically soft for a moment and he lowered the phone that was usually superglued to his fingers. He moved away from the window and stared deep into the baby’s face. Polly found she was holding her breath. He put his hand on the baby’s head.
‘Huh, dark hair,’ he said. ‘Normally the Finkels have, you know…’ He indicated his own ginger locks.
‘That’s just cowl hair,’ said Kerensa incredibly fast. ‘It’ll come out. It’s not his real hair.’
‘No, no, it’s cool, I like dark hair,’ said Reuben, gazing at the baby. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he, Polly? Don’t you think he’s the most beautiful baby there’s ever been? And super smart. He totally aced his Apgar test. First exam he ever had, and he aced it.’
Polly blinked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘What are you calling him?’
Kerensa and Reuben exchanged glances.
‘Ah,’ said Kerensa.
‘What?’ said Reuben. ‘Herschel’s a great family name.’
‘Herschel,’ said Kerensa. ‘Herschel Finkel.’
‘Ohh,’ said Polly, putting a polite expression on her face. ‘That sounds nice.’
‘Hershy? Hersch? Herscho?’ said Kerensa. ‘What’s wrong with Lowin?’
‘That’s lovely,’ said Polly.
‘Yeah, right,’ said Reuben. ‘Way to get him bullied at school.’
‘Oh and Herschel Finkel isn’t?’
‘Nothing wrong with it,’ said Reuben stoutly.
‘We’ll get round to sorting out the name,’ said Kerensa.
Just then Rhonda and Merv burst into the room with huge shopping bags full of clothes and, absurdly, lots and lots of toys, which, given that the baby was at the moment not much more than a floppy fish, was a bit hard to understand.
‘Here he is! The most beautiful boy in the world! Aren’t you! Aren’t you, my gorgeous? You’re going to be a true Finkel, aren’t you? You come to your bubbe!’ And the new grandmother bent her teased, backcombed head and covered the tiny face in kisses, leaving bright pink lipstick traces wherever she went.
