Be My Baby Tonight (21 page)

She sighed. “Well, I’m back to that hopeless
romantic in the mirror, I guess. And now I’m going to get fat
again. All I need is to dig out my old retainer, and I’ll just be
good old Suze.”

“In another age, we could have hired someone
to horsewhip him.”

Suzanna smiled. “He’s sorry, Jack. He really
is.”

“I know. He’s the sorriest guy I know right
now. Let me count the ways.”

“Oh, Jack, thank you, but you don’t have to
be so hard on him. He’s your brother, and you love him. I don’t
mind. I’m not totally innocent in all of this, remember. There were
about two dozen questions I should have asked, any sane woman would
have asked, and I asked none of them. I just hung on, and went
along for the ride.”

“I think he loves you.”

Suzanna shook her head, blinked at the sudden
stinging in her eyes. “I think he thinks he
should.
And, if
I tell him about the baby, that’s the first thing he’ll say to me.
‘I love you, Suze.’”

She looked at Jack, feeling one tear escape,
roll down her face. “If he does that, Jack, I’ll never be able to
believe another word he says.”

* * *

Tim sat on the floor in the den, his legs
tucked up in as close to a Yoga position as a ballplayer with
aching knees could get, wearing the paper hat his Aunt Sadie had
forced on him earlier. She’d called it a “cone,” but he was pretty
sure it was a dunce cap.

The sun was going down on one of the longest
days in his life, after one of the longest weekends in his life,
and he was alone in the rapidly darkening room.

He looked at the toy he held in his hand, one
of the toys he’d been picking up, tossing into the toy box in the
corner of the room.

Soon he’d be doing this same job in his own
house, for his own child.

Damn. There it went again. His stomach, doing
that rotten flip it had been doing on and off all afternoon. He’d
eaten a little of everything, because Keely liked it when people
showed that they liked her cooking, and now all of it was sitting
like a rock in his gut, topped off by a huge wedge of chocolate
birthday cake.

He wasn’t really sick to his stomach. He
couldn’t be. He had a cast-iron stomach; everybody said so. He’d
never been able to dredge up any desire to drink anyone else under
the table, even in college, but he could eat most anybody under the
table. A full restaurant meal, followed by a stop later for tacos,
some hot salsa dip to cleanse his palate, a few of those round
green peppers that made most people start to perspire under their
eyes, and maybe a couple of hot dogs picked up on the way home,
with chili sauce, mustard, and onions, just to top everything
off.

And he’d sleep like a baby.

Baby.

There went his stomach again. Cripes. He
clenched his teeth together hard, tried to ignore the bitter taste
at the back of his throat.

He wasn’t going to make it. No way. No way in
hell. But he was going to have a baby.

Okay, Suzanna was going to have a baby.

His baby.

He swallowed a sick burp.

But, hey, he’d been cool. He’d talked to her,
lots of times. Mostly, she’d been with the other women, the lot of
them probably plotting against him, with Aunt Sadie, Mrs. B. and
Keely as the ringleaders.

If he could just go home, lie down, he’d feel
better.

What time was it? He looked toward the clock
on the mantel. Damn near ten. A lot of people, those with kids who
were in Candy’s play group, had already left, as well as some of
Aunt Sadie’s friends from ceramics class and the theater group.

There were still a few neighbors hanging
around, and Joey of course, along with Bruno.

Good kid, Bruno. He’d kept the children
occupied all afternoon, as pool float, jungle gym, even as a sort
of maypole for a while.

Would he be as good around his kid, Tim asked
himself.

His kid.

Cripes! He was going to have to make a run
for the bathroom, just the way Suzanna had done.

His kid. Okay. But his pregnancy?

That was pushing things.

He pulled a handkerchief out of his back
pocket and wiped at the perspiration gathering on his forehead.
Man, it was hot in here. Too many people, even for a
state-of-the-art air-conditioning system.

Really hot.

And his gut was giving him fits.

Where was Suzanna? He wanted to go home. Why
didn’t she come take him home?

“Oh, thanks, Tim,” Keely said, walking into
the den, flipping on the wall switch that turned on the recessed
ceiling lighting.

Tim blinked at the sudden brightness. “No
problem. I wasn’t doing anything else,” he said, tossing yet
another toy into the box.

Keely bent with a small groan, to pick up a
few colored blocks, and looked straight into his eyes. “You feel
all right? You don’t look well.”

Tim shoved the handkerchief back in his
pocket and stood up. “I’m fine, really. It’s been a hell of
weekend, one way or another. And who was that bozo in the
green-and-white-striped shirt?”

“John Donnelley? He’s one of our neighbors.
And he’s not a bozo; he’s an orthodontist. Why?”

“Nothing. Just that he cornered me for about
ten minutes, telling me he thinks I’m holding my left shoulder too
high at the plate. Everybody’s an expert. Hey, Keel? I... I want to
thank you for taking care of Suzanna for me. I know she was
upset.”

“Upset? I’ve never thought of you as a master
of understatement, Tim. She was pissed.”

Tim grinned weakly. “Okay, she was pissed.
She’s still pissed.”

Keely took his arm and led him over to the
couch, and he held on to her as she lowered her bulky figure into
the soft cushions. “This couch is a man-eater, but Jack insisted,”
she said, patting the seat beside her. “Sit down, Tim. I think we
should talk.”

Tim looked toward the kitchen, hoping to see
Suzanna there, come to rescue him. “I... I was thinking about going
home, Keel. Like I said—been a long day.”

“Tim—sit.”

He sat.

“You did a terrible thing, Tim,” Keely told
him; this sweet, blond, wonderfully chubby,
blooming
woman
said to him, “When Suzanna came here Friday morning, she was
devastated.”

“I know. I’ve had all the lectures.”

“You didn’t have mine, Tim,” Keely said,
rubbing at her stomach. “Oh, he kicked me! He can be quiet for
hours, and the moment I want to be quiet, he thinks it’s party
time.”

Tim pressed a hand against his mouth, because
his stomach was doing flips again.

“Want to feel him kick?” Keely asked, then
took Tim’s hand before he could say no, or run away, or move to
Antarctica and change his name, or any of the other things he could
think of in half a second.

“There! Feel it? That’s his foot, the little
bugger.”

Tim smiled weakly as he felt the baby’s foot
push against his hand, as he watched Keely’s swollen belly almost
stand up, circle, and settle back down. “Wow,” he said, swallowing
hard. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Not a bit. Oh, okay, so it can be
uncomfortable sometimes, when he tries to get that foot out through
my mouth, I swear. But it’s also wonderful. Life, Tim, growing
inside me. Part mine, part Jack’s, all ours. I didn’t get to have
that feeling with Candy, so this little guy is making up for it,
reminding me that heartburn and fat clothes are okay; but they
aren’t what really makes you parents. Candy is the child of our
hearts, you know? Jack and I are so blessed.”

Tim leaned over and kissed Keely’s cheek.
“Jack’s a lucky man, Keel.”

“Thank you, but you’re still going to get the
lecture. Oh, never mind. I’ve been watching you, Tim, and you look
like you’re already suffering. In fact,” she said, pushing herself
up slightly and looking toward the kitchen, “I think you’ve
suffered enough that maybe I should help you out a little
here.”

Oh, no. Not more help. Any more help, and Tim
was pretty sure he couldn’t
help
but screw things up even
more than they were now.

“Keel, that’s okay. I already know I have to
take it slow, get Suzanna to trust me again, get her to understand
that I want this marriage. I really want it.”

“That’s very commendable, Tim. However,
intelligent as Suzanna is, levelheaded as she is, I don’t think
appealing to her intellect is going to get you too far.”

“Oh, great! Finally, one person agrees that I
should toss her over my shoulder and carry her off to my cave.”

She hit him on the chest. Not hard, but she
had a pretty good backhand swing. “Idiot! You can’t do that. And,
even though I know you love her, even if
you
don’t know that
yet, you can’t tell her that, either. Not in her condition.”

Tim suppressed yet another bitter burp. Maybe
he had a virus.

“Being pissed, you mean?” he asked, hoping
Keely would just shut up.

“No, Tim, that’s not what I mean. Look,
Suzanna would kill me if she knew I was telling you this, and Jack,
too, because we’ve all agreed to keep Suzanna’s secret. But I
really believe you should know that Suzanna is... well, she’s...
Let’s just say she might be having some mood swings right now.
Stuff that she’d usually not do, or say, but that she might do or
say right now. So you can’t get angry with her if she doesn’t react
the way you might expect, okay?”

How dumb did he have to play this, so that
Keely wouldn’t murder Jack?

“Okay,” he said. “I upset her. I understand
that.”

Now Keely kissed his cheek. “You know, Tim, a
woman would have understood what I just said. But I can see I have
to draw you a map. As long as you promise you won’t tell Jack or
anybody. And for God’s sake, don’t let Suzanna know you know. That
would be a disaster.”

“No disasters on my horizon, Keel, other than
the one we all know about,” he lied with hopeful sincerity,
“because I have absolutely no clue as to what you just said.”

And then she said it. The darn woman just
went ahead and said it: “Suzanna’s pregnant, Tim.”

The path Suzanna had taken to the powder room
had included a deft step around the huge ottoman. Tim hurdled
straight over it....

There’s a soft liner, which is caught by the
second

baseman. And the ball game is over! For this
inning.

— Jerry Coleman,

San Diego Padres announcer

Suzanna watched as Tim walked through the
hallway, automatically touching the head of one of the wolf hounds
incorporated into the tapestry. He did it every time, and probably
didn’t even know he did it.

Another superstition? Or just habit?

She put down her purse and followed after
him, as both were carrying what Keely laughingly called “leftovers”
from the party. There were enough of them to have another
party.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” she
asked as Tim stood back, holding open the refrigerator for her, so
she could stash the silver foil covered tins beside the ones he’d
carried in from the car.

“I don’t know. It was Aunt Sadie’s party. I
didn’t want to be a wet blanket.”

She put a hand on his forehead, pretending
she wasn’t using the excuse to touch him. “You don’t feel hot.
Keely said you threw up.”

“Yeah. Well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’m
fine now.”

Suzanna followed after him as he went into
the den, picked up the TV remote. “But you could be sick.”

“You threw up,” he said, punching in the
numbers for ESPN. “And you’re fine now, too, right?”

“Right,” Suzanna said warily. So that was it?
He saw that she’d felt better, and then decided either not to
mention that she’d been sick, or hadn’t cared enough to ask. No, he
cared enough. He was a good man. She was angry with him,
disappointed in him, but she couldn’t go blaming him for every vice
in the world.

“See? You’re all right; I’m all right.”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you see today’s game?”

She shook her head. “No, there wasn’t time.
I’m sorry. Candy decided that today would be good day to want to
hang on Keely’s leg, so I took her out for a walk, then helped
Keely once the baby was down for her nap. What did I miss?”

“Another loss,” he said, just as the recap of
the Phillies game came on the screen. “So you didn’t see it?”

“No, I said I didn’t,” she said, stepping
closer to the large-screen set.

“Good.” He turned it off. “Nothing much to
see. One of the... um... Brandenberg tried to take me out at the
plate. Barreled into me, into my gut, but I held on to the ball.”
He rubbed at his stomach. “I guess I took a bigger hit than I
thought.”

He was lying. The man was standing there,
looking straight at her, and lying through his teeth.

Why? She decided to push him.

“Really. You know, Tim, maybe there’s
internal bruising. Even internal bleeding. Let’s go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“To the Emergency Room, Tim. You got hit;
you’ve thrown up. Maybe it isn’t your gut. Maybe you have a
concussion. What did the trainer say when he checked you out?”

“He said I’m fine, that’s what he said,” Tim
told her, his voice tight as he threw the controller onto the
couch. “Let’s go to bed; I’m wiped out.”

“Don’t you want to talk?”

He rolled his eyes at her. The man was
picking a fight!

“I mean it, Tim. We... We really should
talk.”

“About what? I screwed up, you caught me at
it, and now you’re punishing me. Oh, yeah, I heard all about it,
Suze. About my clothes being moved to another bedroom. Everybody’s
having a lot of fun at my expense, laughing at me.”

Tim Trehan, Suzanna knew, didn’t give a rat’s
ass about what the world thought of him—unless he thought badly
about himself.

“You were embarrassed,” she said, nodding her
head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to Keely.”