Be My Baby Tonight (19 page)

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thinking?
I wasn’t thinking, Mrs. B. I was... I was temporarily insane. No
sleep except for nightmares, my game was going to—”

Mrs. Butterworth made a face.

“—heck, going to heck. Reporters with their
secret joke about the Trehan curse, and that was going to hit the
papers any day if I didn’t start hitting again. And then there was
Suzanna, smack in front of me like manna from heaven, and we had
such a great time, and the next thing I knew...” He put up his
hands as if to end, “And that was that.”

“What a sorry excuse for an excuse that was,
Tim,” Mrs. Butterworth said, shaking her head. “An excuse, by the
way, that mentions nothing about why you haven’t told Suzanna about
your stupidity, and how lucky you are that everything worked out so
well, that you now know that you love her. You know, Tim, all that
mushy stuff?”

“I was working my way up to it?” he offered
hopefully.

“Nope. Not good enough. You’ve had nearly
three months to work your way up to it.”

“But I was getting close, honest. It was
probably the Margo and Lucky thing that got in the way,” he said,
trying again. “I didn’t want to confuse things.”

“And that’s just pitiful,” Mrs. Butterworth
said, rolling her eyes. “Really, really pitiful, Tim. If those are
your arguments, your excuses, then Sadie’s right. Unless you’re up
to a siege, Tim, Suzanna is going to run, not walk, toward the
nearest exit.”

Okay, this was good. Mrs. B. was going to
give him some hints. She knew Suzanna; she was a woman. She’d tell
him how to fix this.

“Siege?”

“You do remember your history, don’t you?
Attacking forces surround the castle until those inside
surrender?”

“Gee,” Tim said, his hopes not so high after
that statement. “And here I left my catapult in my other slacks.
What in he—heck are you talking about, Mrs. B?”

“Think, Tim. You need to lay siege to
Suzanna. Not toss rocks from a catapult or starve her out, for
goodness sake. Use your imagination. You have to lay siege to her
heart.”

He leaned one shoulder against the wall in
the hallway and looked at Mrs. B. thoughtfully. “To her heart.
Siege. So, what you’re saying is, I don’t go into the kitchen, grab
Suze, take her outside, and tell her that I’m the world’s biggest
jackass, but I love her?”

“That’s what you were planning?”

“Yeah, well... sort of. I mean, I’m not so
sure it would work, and it probably won’t, but I’ve got to start
somewhere, right? I decided on the drive from Philly that I can’t
go too slow. It would drive me nuts.”

Mrs. Butterworth stuck her slipping glasses
higher on her nose. “How did your gender ever think it could rule
the world? Answer me that one, Tim. No, don’t bother. I taught
history. I know how badly you men have been doing it. So,
no,
Tim. Caveman tactics... Well, they went out with the
cavemen.”

“I thought sweeping a woman off her feet was
romantic,” he said, laughter coming to him from the kitchen again
while he stood there, feeling as if he’d stepped in quicksand.

“In some cases, yes. But you’re not one of
those cases. You tricked the woman, Tim. You lied to her, if only
by omission, and now you’re hanging on by a thread, boy. One wrong
step, and it’s all over.”

He walked three quick paces toward the
kitchen, turned around, walked back to Mrs. Butterworth. “I can’t
believe I’m having this conversation. Okay, okay. What do you and
Aunt Sadie think I have to do?”

“And Keely,” Mrs. Butterworth reminded him.
“It’s all three of us.”

“Three of you? Like the witches in
MacBeth
?”

“Don’t you sass me, Timothy Trehan,” Mrs.
Butterworth said, wagging a finger under his nose.

“I’m not, I swear. I want your help. I
need
your help. But, first, are you also
helping
Suzanna? Because you can’t be pitching for two teams, Mrs. B.”

“I’m old. I can be anywhere I want to be,”
she said rather smugly. “Now, here’s the plan.”

Tim leaned closer.

“You are going to
court
your
wife.”

He backed up. “Oh, come on. That’s really
your plan? This siege thing?”

“You have a better one?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “No.
But I’d already thought of that one. Make nice, don’t push her,
prove to her that our marriage was—is—a good idea. But you know
Suzanna. She can be so damn... darn stubborn. It could take
months.
I’d hoped you’d have a better plan. A faster
one?”

“Faster? Oh, I get it.” Mrs. Butterworth
looked at him from overtop her glasses. “I suggest cold showers,
Tim,” she said, and then she turned, sort of swirled an invisible
cape, and headed back toward the foyer. He could almost swear he
heard a witchy chuckle as she went.

* * *

Suzanna had seen Tim’s car parked in the
circular drive and was grateful when Jack had driven around to the
garages, giving her another moment or two before she had to face
the inevitable.

The inevitable was that she was pretty sure
she was going to melt like warm butter when she saw Tim, the jerk.
And if she did that, not only would Aunt Sadie, Mrs. B. and Keely
never forgive her, but she’d never forgive herself.

A one-sided love was doomed from the
beginning. She’d figured that out during her senior year in high
school, and then applied only to west coast universities, knowing
that Jack and Tim were staying on the east coast.

Yes, a one-sided love was doomed from the
beginning. She’d forgotten that somewhere during one crazy night in
Pittsburgh, of all places. But she remembered it now.

Tim knew she loved him, as she kept reminding
herself. He’d have to be completely unconscious not to know that.
He’d always known.

And she’d always been his good old Suze.

He was going to come waltzing in here with
his hangdog look, his eyes all puppy sad, looking so damn adorable,
and push all her buttons, hoping she’d still react the same way
she’d always done:

I fell asleep after practice, Suze. Could I
copy your English homework in first period study hall? Come on,
Suze, save my life.

Hey, Suze, you’re not going to believe this,
but I’ve got a flat and my spare’s no good. I’ve got this date
tonight? Jack’s already called dibs on Dad’s Chevy. Do you think
you could swing it so that I could borrow your mom’s car? Help me,
Suze, save my life.

All the way back to elementary school:
Suze? Was today the day we were supposed to bring in popsicle
sticks to make an African hut? Because, you know, I just plain
forgot—hey, you brought extras. Good old Suze, you saved my
life.

Every time, the hangdog look, the puppy
eyes.

Every time, she’d give in, help out, “save
his life,” come to the rescue. Break her own heart.

Now, there was a history to be proud of—if
she were a masochist.

And here they were again.

He had to be expecting her to give in, having
made him suffer for a couple of days. He had to believe she was too
good-hearted, and too stupidly in love with him, to do anything
else.

And he was pretty close to right.

Except, she’d learned a few things over the
years. She’d learned that she could live, function, even succeed,
without Tim in her life. That had been an important lesson.

If she had to, she could learn it again.

Because, no matter what, she was
not
going to hang on to him because there was a child involved now, not
hang on in a marriage begun in deception, be the one giving love,
always giving love, and getting Tim’s sincere thanks in return.

She’d “sincere” him, the bastard.

Oh, how she hated him! Oh, how she loved
him!

Oh, where in hell
was
the man? Was he
planning on hiding out in the living room or something, hoping
she’d come to him?

Fat damn chance, bucko!

And then, suddenly, there he was. Walking
through the kitchen and into the den, heading toward her, no sign
of a birthday present for his aunt in his hands—undoubtedly
figuring that she’d “saved his life” and signed his name to her own
present. And he was right, of course.

She clutched Candy to her protectively, tight
enough to make the child begin to struggle to be free. Clearly
Candy wasn’t old enough to join the Association to Shun Tim Trehan,
because the little girl was holding out her arms, squealing for her
uncle to take her.

“There she is,” Tim said, grabbing Candy and
kissing her. “There’s my girl.”

No, Stupid,
I’m
your girl.

Maybe shunning him isn’t enough. Maybe some
rope, some honey, and a convenient anthill?

Suzann turned away, realizing she’d gone just
a little hysterical. Now she was jealous of a sweet baby like
Candy? What kind of sick, twisted, pathetic mind would even give
out signals like that, let alone believe them, even for an
instant?

Had to be being pregnant. Keely had sworn
there would be changes in her moods and thinking processes that
would sometimes startle her, surprise her, even embarrass her.

Being jealous of a baby because Tim had
called her “my girl” had to be one of those hormone-induced
aberrations.

Either that, or she was going nuts.

“Hello, Tim,” she said, lifting her chin,
praying her tone was light, her smile at least halfway believable.
After all, there were at least twenty-five guests milling around in
the kitchen and den, all of them knowing that she and Tim were
still relative newlyweds. She had no choice but to put a brave face
on things, hope Tim did the same.

“Hi, babe,” he said, then winced. “Sorry. I
mean, hi, Suze.” Then he bent down, still holding Candy, and kissed
her hello. Smack on the mouth.

Suzann felt her stomach flip, and
psychological or not, she went racing out of the den, heading for
the powder room, where she promptly brought all of the orange soda
she’d drunk on the way home from the store back for an encore.

The sun don’t shine on the same dog’s ass all

the time.

— Catfish Hunter, pitcher

“What the—?”

“Just shut up and come with me, bro,” Jack
said, as Tim had started after Suzanna. “Come on. You don’t want to
go chasing her right now.”

Tim looked back over his shoulder as Jack led
him out the kitchen doorway and darn near dragged him all the way
down to the pool, where a couple of kids Tim had never seen before
were playing Climb the Bruno in the shallow end.

“Did you see her?” Tim said once Jack had let
go of his arm. “She turned green when I kissed her.
Green,
Jack. Does she hate me that much?”

“She doesn’t hate you, Tim. Look, it’s...
complicated, okay?”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Now, there’s a news
bulletin I already got. Just tell me one thing, Jack. Whose team
are you playing for?”

Jack grinned, then stretched out his length
in one of the chaise lounges. “You mean, am I pitching for Tim’s
Trials and Tribulations, or Suzanna’s Sinister Sisters?”

Tim grabbed a mesh folding chair and pulled
it over next to the chaise lounge, sat down. “Exactly. Suzanna’s
already got Aunt Sadie, Mrs. B.—your wife. Who have I got? Joey?
Cripes, I might as well just forfeit the game now.”

“It’s not the guys against the gals, Tim.
It’s nothing like that.” Then Jack grinned. “We’re all pretty
solidly on Suzanna’s side.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Candy still seems to like you.”

“Candy’s not all that discriminating. You’d
better watch that when she gets to be a teenager. She might end up
falling for some guy like me.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not so bad. As a matter
of fact, I was you, not so long ago. It’s just time to grow up,
bro.”

“Tell me about it. And then tell me
how.”

Jack shrugged. “Do you love her?”

Tim avoided his brother’s eyes. There were
just some conversations Tim stayed away from, even with Jack. This
was one of them. “I’ve always loved Suzanna.”

“Sure. Suzanna the pal. The buddy. The great
kid. The
convenience.
There were times, Tim, when even I
could have decked you for the crappy way you treated her, knowing
she was crazy about you.”

Tim tried to get angry, but it was hard to
get mad when you knew yourself to be wrong, dead wrong, and guilty
as sin. “I was a kid. We were all kids.”

Jack stood up, motioned for Tim to follow him
as they walked away from the pool area when a splash came too
close. The kids were sitting with a couple of women now, and Bruno
was entertaining them, doing cannonballs into the deep end. Diving
whales displaced less water.

“We were all kids, Tim, you’re right. And
Suzanna had so much going against her. The braces, the extra
pounds, the fact that she was smart as a whip. Remember how Mom and
Dad had to convince us that we could have brains and still be
popular? But being good at sports helped us. Suzanna didn’t have
that luxury. She was just good old Suze, to you, to me, to
everybody. Did she even go to the proms?”

“She was on the committees,” Tim said,
wondering if there was anything lower than a snake’s belly, because
if there was, he was it.

Jack led Tim to the garage, where he picked
up two gloves and a baseball, handing one glove to Tim, then headed
out onto the lawn.

“Bet it was a heck of a shock, seeing Suzanna
again, and with her looking so great.”

Tim, backing up on the lawn, caught the ball
Jack threw, and threw it back to him. “You know, it actually took
me a minute to recognize her at all. That smile? She hardly ever
smiled in high school, probably because of all that hardware in her
mouth. She should have smiled more. God, I’m crazy about that
smile.”

“The rest isn’t so bad, either,” Jack said,
throwing the ball a little harder this time.