Be My Baby Tonight (6 page)

Tim had caught up with Suzanna, who was
standing in front of a slot machine showing a computer image of
dancing frogs. Well, some were dancing. One was puffing up like a
blowfish, another was wearing a crown, and there was a chicken in
there somewhere, laying an egg.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled
out a twenty, handed it to her. “Here, babe. Play the machine while
I talk to Mort, okay? But it’s too loud in here to think straight,
so I’m going to go back outside so I can hear. You stay here, where
it’s cooler. I’ll be right back.”

She gave him this sort of funny look. “Yes,
master,” she said, taking the twenty, then turning her back on
him.

“Right back, Suze. I mean it. And then we’ll
eat.”

“Uh-huh,” he thought she said, her back
stiff.

Tim looked at that stiff back for another
moment, ignoring Mort’s ranting in his ear, then sighed, headed for
the doors once more.

Once outside, he listened as Mort wrapped up
his tirade about who was going to tell Aunt Sadie, and who was
going to tell Jack, and what in
hell
was he going to tell
the press?

“Mort. Mort, take a breath. And get a pencil
and paper,” Tim said, walking in a circle as he shoved a hand
through his hair. “I’m married. Bride is one Suzanna Trent, whom
I’ve known since kindergarten. Jack can fill you in on the rest of
it, where she lives, all the usual stuff. And she works for a
computer software company, something like that. We flew to Vegas
this morning, we’re married, and we’ll be back in Philadelphia in
time for tomorrow night’s game. Honeymoon to follow... follow...
hell, follow the end of the season. That’s the best I can do,
right?”

“Since kindergarten? So this isn’t just some
bimbo you picked up somewhere? You’ve only gone a little nuts, not
totally nuts?”

“Smooth, Mort, real smooth,” Tim said as a
young boy walked up to him, holding out a paper bag with
Treasure Island
stamped on it, and a pen with a pirate’s
grinning skull attached to the top.

Tim scribbled his name on the bag, rubbed the
kid’s head, then turned away, walked a few steps, hoping for more
privacy.

“Look, Mort, I’ve gotta go. Suze is inside,
playing some frog game, and neither of us has eaten in hours.
Unless you want to be handing out a press release on our divorce
before you can announce the marriage, I’ve got to go make nice,
okay?”

“You aren’t husband material, you know,” Mort
said. “I’ve heard Sadie say it at least a million times. Jack had
to grow up, with his injury and all, but you’re still a kid,
playing a kid’s game.”

“And with that vote of confidence, Mort, I’m
hanging up. See ya,” Tim said, hitting the END button, then folding
up the phone, jamming it into his pocket.

Then he pulled it out again. Jack. He had to
call Jack. Before Mort could call Jack.

He hit the first number on his speed dial and
anxiously bounced on the balls of his feet as he listened to three
rings, then four, before a female voice said, “Hello?”

“Keely,” Tim said, relaxing a little. This
was good, this was very good. At least Keely wouldn’t go ape-shit
on him. “Is Jack there?” he asked, hoping his brother was anywhere
but “there.”

“No, sorry, Tim, he’s not. He and Candy are
off to Dorney Park for the morning. There’s a new ride, or
something. We can only hope Jack fits in one of the seats, because
we both know he’s more crazy about the rides than Candy is. The
rides, and the cotton candy. You just caught me, as a matter of
fact, because I have my monthly with the obstetrician this morning.
Three hours in the waiting room, five minutes with the doctor. Jack
took a raincheck this month. Anyway, can I help?”

Tim hesitated, suddenly not so sure he should
tell Keely first instead of Jack, then realized that he didn’t have
much choice. And he already knew it would be easier to tell Keely.
“I’m in Vegas, Keel,” he said, turning his back on a
bermuda-shorts-clad man who was looking at him with that “don’t I
know you from somewhere” look. “I just got married.”

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

He took the phone away from his ear, tapped
on it, then put it up again and said, “Keely? Keel, babe? You still
there?”

“Sitting down, Tim, sitting down,” she
answered, her voice a little strange. “Did I hear you correctly?
Married?”

“Yeah, married. But it’s okay. It’s Suzanna.
Suzanna Trent. I know you don’t know her, but Jack can tell you all
about her. We’re heading back to Philly later today, because I’ve
got a game tomorrow night. Do you think you two could grab a
baby-sitter and come down?”

“Meet her, you mean? Tim, are you at all
familiar with the term ‘wild horses couldn’t keep me away?’ Of
course we’ll be there. The Yankees aren’t on TV, so Jack is
free.”

“Okay, good. Great. Thanks, Keel. You’re the
best.”

“Only because I have so many questions I
can’t get one out of my mouth with any hope of coherence. But be
ready, buddy, because tomorrow night, I’m showing up with a
list.”

Tim laughed, said goodbye, and ended the call
even as he trotted back into the casino.

He found Suzanna right where he’d left her,
sitting in front of the slot machine with the frogs. Except there
was some sort of bar blinking on the screen now, a red light
flashing on top of the machine, and both a loud ringing and the
most god-awful tinny song emanating from somewhere inside.

“What happened?”

She didn’t look up at him. “I’m not sure.
Lots of frogs in a row,” she said quietly.

He peered over her shoulder, read the message
flashing on the screen: “Hand pay required. $248.65. Please call
attendant.”

He sat down in the empty seat beside hers.
“Damn, Suze. You won. And with nickels.”

“Yes, I’d figured out that part. But now
what?”

“Now we wait for the attendant. They come
over when they see the red light flashing. So, steak’s your treat?”
he asked, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Deal,” she said, twisting her hands in her
lap. “Then what?”

“I don’t know. I have to play that twenty for
Sam. You seem to be lucky, Suze. Maybe you’ll want to play some
more slots.”

She twisted on the chair, glared at him “And
that’s it? We come to Vegas, we get married by a guy who called me
Susan,
I watch some frogs dance, gamble, we eat steak, we
both gamble, and then we get back on the plane?”

He grimaced. “Not the best time you’ve ever
had, huh? I mean, when you say it that way...”

The attendant showed up, blessedly turned off
the ringing bell, the tinny music.

“Tim,” Suzanna said as they both stood back
so that the attendant could open the machine, do something with the
insides. “I don’t want to sound bitchy or anything, but have you
noticed that my finger’s turning green?”

He immediately looked down at her left hand,
where he had placed the ring he’d bought at the chapel. Twenty-five
bucks, but it was better than nothing. Besides, she’d exaggerated.
Her finger wasn’t green. Not yet. But it probably would be, any
minute now.

“Damn.”

“It doesn’t matter, honestly. I guess I just
had this white gown and veil dream, you know? An elopement and the
proverbial ring out of a Cracker Jacks box isn’t as romantic in
practice as it is in theory. I’m just being silly, and I know
it.”

“The hell you are,” Tim said, gathering her
into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Ah, Suze, don’t be
such a good sport.”

“It’s what I do,” she mumbled into his chest,
so that he had to laugh, although he felt like a heel.

“I know, and I took advantage of you.”

“Swept me off my feet,” she said quietly.

“Plied you with beer.”

“I don’t remember you forcing a funnel down
my throat.”

“Seduced you.”

She lifted her head from his chest, but he
kept her held close inside his arms. “Good,” she said, looking
straight into his eyes. “That’s how I want to remember that moment.
At least then I can live with myself.”

“Flew you out here and married you,” he
continued, grinning at her. Good old Suze. What a brick.

“‘Dear Diary,’“ she said, a smile growing on
her own face. God, he was crazy about that smile of hers, those
full lips, those white teeth. She had a smile as big as center
field.

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘Dear Diary,’“ she repeated. “‘Today
I got married, met a frog, and ate a New York strip steak.’ Does
that sound romantic to you?”

“Hell no,” Tim said as the attendant politely
cleared his throat, so that Tim let go of Suzanna and she could
hold out her hand as bills were counted into it. She pulled out a
five and handed it to the attendant, who probably didn’t get too
many tips from the nickel players, because he thanked her, three
times.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, and Tim
shook his head. That was also good old Suze. An only child, she’d
been brought up to be polite. Far from the rough and tumble of his
own youth, his and Jack’s.

“Hey, just a sec,” he said as the attendant
turned to walk away. “This place have room service?”

“Yes, sir, twenty-four hours a day.”

“Great. Where’s the check-in desk?”

The attendant pointed to his left. “Over
there, sir. Say, aren’t you...?”

“Nope. I’m only his twin brother,” Tim said
quickly, already steering Suzanna toward the large foyer and
registration desk.

“Hey! But if you’re his twin brother, then
you’re—ha! That’s a good one, Jack. Or Tim. Or whoever you
are...”

Suzanna had a hand pressed to her mouth as
they made their way through lazily strolling tourists, covering her
giggles. “‘Nope, I’m only his twin brother,’“ she said at last.
“When did you think up that gem?”

Tim sort of leered at her. “I’ve got a
million of ’em, babe,” he said as he walked straight up to the
manager’s desk and turned on the considerable Trehan Irish
charm.

“Hi,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m
Tim Trehan. I was really hoping we could get a room. The bridal
suite, if it’s free?”

“Nothing in Vegas is free, Mr. Trehan,” the
manager said, with no hint of a smile.

“Funny line. Bet he’s got a million of ’em,
too,” Suzanna whispered as she turned her head into Tim’s shoulder,
her own shoulders shaking.

“Good one,” Tim agreed, letting go of the
manager’s hand, leaving the two one-hundred-dollar bills behind.
The guy looked at them and slipped them into his pocket without so
much as a blink.

“Our bridal suites, I’m sorry to say, are all
occupied, Mr. Trehan, but I do believe we can have a most lovely
suite ready for you... and Mrs. Trehan?... in about an hour. Will
that be satisfactory? Would you care to have one of our bellpersons
take your luggage?”

“No luggage,” Tim said, and Suzanna squeezed
his arm a little too tightly. “That is, it’s being sent over later.
But not an hour. We’ll be back in twenty minutes, and the suite
will be ready, right? In the meantime, where’s your jewelry shop?
You’ve got one of those?”

“Yes, sir, we pride ourselves on our fine
jewelry shop.” The manager stood up, pointed to his right. “Just
follow that hallway to our galleria.”

“Come on, wife,” Tim said, feeling pretty in
charge, pretty competent. “The jewelry store awaits. You think that
jackpot you hit will cover it?”

“You want
me
to buy my own ring?” she
asked, almost skipping to keep up with his long strides. He wanted
this shopping business out of the way, so he could concentrate on
other things. One other thing: Suzanna.

“You think I should pay for it, huh?”

“That depends. How rich a widow would I be if
I killed you right now?”

Tim laughed, feeling better,
freer,
than he had in longer than he could remember. Since Jack had gotten
hurt, found Candy, gotten married, probably. Over a year. One long,
scary year for a guy who used to think he owned the world and all
the good luck in it.

A song began on the casino sound system, some
oldie but goodie with a strong back beat, and Tim impulsively
grabbed Suzanna into his arms and began dancing her down the
hallway, sidestepping tourists, turning circles as Suzanna gasped
and giggled, not stopping until they were standing inside the
jewelry shop.

You knew it was a good shop. There were
diamonds glittering in the window display. And rubies. And those
blue things.

And no price tags.

“Wedding rings, my good woman,” Tim said with
a smile, pulling a suddenly reluctant Suzanna over to the counter
and the heavily bejeweled woman behind it.

“And engagement rings. We’ll want to see
both, won’t we, Suze?”

She shook her head at him “Oh, I don’t know,
Tim. I’m glad you want a wedding ring, but do you really want an
engagement ring? Some of the guys in the clubhouse might make
jokes. Or are you thinking about a diamond in your ear?”

“Me? Oh, funny, Suze, funny.” Then he took
hold of her elbow, moved her away from the counter. “Suze... no
joking here, okay? You knew I meant that I want the lady to show us
some rings for you.”

“Yes, I know that,” she answered, looking
past him, to where the saleslady was standing, hands folded
together on top of the glass case, doing nothing.

“And you know that I can’t wear a wedding
ring. I mean, not during a game. And if I didn’t wear it during the
game, then I’d probably leave it on a shelf in a locker somewhere,
forget it, lose it. So I probably shouldn’t have one. You see that,
don’t you?”

Was it getting cold in here? How low did
casinos turn their air-conditioning anyway? Because, suddenly,
there was a definite chill in the air.

“Suze? Suzanna? Say something, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll say something. No rings.”

“What do you mean, no rings?”