Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Maura
I don’t remember the walk back into town, but somehow I find myself on Talbot Street. It’s thronged with enthusiastic Christmas shoppers. I think about how busy the staff in Switzers must be. I think about the large Christmas tree in the foyer that smells of pine cones and the complimentary mulled wine they dish out in the homeware section. I’m looking forward to a glass to warm my belly. Ma says alcohol isn’t for ladies, but everyone knows a glass every now and then is good for the baby.
I settle on a visit to the butcher first. If I’m going to lose an afternoon to mulled wine and a catch-up with Geraldine I had best get my chores out of the way beforehand.
Inside smells of red meat and sawdust. I cover my nose and mouth with my hand and try to hide how the scent makes me heave.
“Any nice plans for the weekend?” the butcher asks. He’s a block of a man with shoulders as wide as playing fields and hands like shovels that bag up my meat.
“The weekend? Golly, is it the weekend already?”
He laughs. “It’s Friday. The week is nearly through.”
“I thought it was Thursday,” I say, trying to recall how the days have slipped away again this week.
I asked for two lamb chops and some liver, but he places a bag packed full of meat on the tall glass countertop. I look around, suspecting the bag is for someone else.
“To thank Dr. Davenport for taking such good care of my missus,” he says.
It surprises me how often strangers recognize me as Christy’s wife. People sometimes walk up to me on the street to ask how my husband is keeping. They tell me about their bad back, or shingles, or all manner of ailments. And they always, always end the encounter asking me if I’m aware how fantastic my husband is. I never roll my eyes, but sometimes I want to.
“There’s some steak in there,” the butcher says. “Filet. Only the best for the doc.”
“Oh.” I blush, realizing he wants me to take the bag of meat for free.
I roll onto my tiptoes and fetch the bag. It’s heavy and my shoulder pops silently.
“This is very kind. Too kind,” I say, thinking I won’t be able to nip into Switzers with a giant bag of meat hanging off my arm. I can only imagine how annoyed Christy will be when he comes home and discovers I haven’t picked out new delft after I promised that I would.
“You tell the doc if my missus has a wee boy this time there’ll be a free turkey for him next Christmas. Big as he likes.”
I’ve no idea what to say to a man who thinks my husband can arrange a baby’s gender and would like to thank him with raw meat.
“I’m outnumbered, you see,” he says. “I’ve three daughters already. Each one more like her mother than the last. I need a little chap to take over the business someday.”
“Maybe your daughters could run the business in the future,” I say, waiting for him to shoot me down.
He shakes his head. “My girls are smart as buttons. Each and every one of them. They’ll want to finish school and maybe try their hand at college. They’re meant for great things.”
I’m momentarily lost for words. I’ve never met a man who values a woman’s education before. My father is a wonderful man and a loving father, but from the time I was a child he made it crystal clear that a woman’s place was in the home. In truth, I didn’t know men who thought differently existed.
“You’ll tell the doc I was asking for him, won’t you, Mrs. Davenport?”
“Maura. Please call me Maura. Mrs. Davenport is my mother-in-law.” I smile sheepishly.
“Maura,” he says with a nod. “I’m Dan. Daniel McCarthy.”
I nod. I know his last name already. It’s above the door outside.
“Well, thank you, Dan,” I say, tilting my head toward the heavy bag of meat dangling from my arm. “I’ll be sure to let Christy know these come with your compliments. And I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a son for you.”
“Ah.” Dan glides his hand through the air. “I don’t mind, really. Once the wee one is healthy and the wife comes through it well, that’s me counting myself a lucky man.”
I thank Dan once more, kick off the sawdust from the floor that has stuck to my shoes, and walk back outside into the cool December air.