Be My Baby Tonight (24 page)

Suzanna watched Keely go and wondered, not
for the first time, if she would be as laid back about her own
pregnancy when she got to the elephant stage. She doubted it.

“Sit down, Mort, and tell me how he is
tonight.”

“He’s good, good. I saw him this morning. I
gave him the books he asked me to buy for him, told him he’s not
being all that peculiar. Did it with a straight face, too, just the
way I didn’t act surprised when he told me you’re pregnant, seeing
as how Sadie told me all about it the day of the birthday party. I
didn’t let on that I knew, or that he isn’t supposed to know—none
of that. I’d say I’m up for sainthood, but then that lightning
Keely talked about would be sure to strike.”

“I still wish he didn’t know,” Suzanna said,
feeling tears gathering behind her eyes. They kept doing that.
Gathering, waiting, ready to spill over. She was turning into a
damn sprinkling can. “I didn’t want him to know.”

“Yeah, Sadie explained all of that. But since
he doesn’t know that you know he knows, it’s okay, right? Although
I have to tell you, sweetheart, I think you’re both nuts.”

“I can’t explain it, Mort, but I have to do
what I’m doing. If I give in now, the way I’ve always given in,
we’ll never be happy.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and
dabbed at her eyes. “Except now he knows I’m pregnant, so how am I
ever going to know if he really loves me?”

“He’s throwing up every morning; that should
give you some clue,” Mort said, pulling out a cigar, then looking
at Suzanna, replacing it in his shirt pocket.

“And he can’t play for sh—Sorry. He isn’t
playing well; that’s what I meant to say.”

“But he knows I’m here tonight?”

Mort nodded. “That should make a difference,
don’t you think? Even if I told him you’re going home with Jack and
Keely, and that you don’t want to see him.”

“I’m coming back tomorrow night, too,”
Suzanna said, twisting the tissue in her hands. “Aunt Sadie’s
coming with me. And then it’s Mrs. B.’s turn, on Sunday.”

“Last regular game of the season. Two out of
three aren’t enough. We have to sweep and win it all outright. I
hate going down to the wire like this. Ages me, I swear it.”

“Poor Mort,” Suzanna said, smiling, but she
was also nervous. “He’ll be fine. He’s been better lately, and had
good games against Atlanta.”

“He’s a professional. He has to be able to
push everything else away and concentrate on the game. I had a
pretty hefty Come to Jesus moment with him about that the day he
called me, and he’s sucking it up, concentrating on the team. Tim
was always a real team player.”

“I know, and I shouldn’t be making it hard on
him, not right now. My timing has never been really good.”

“Are you kidding? Your timing was great,
showing up in Pittsburgh like that in July. He was going down,
Suzanna, straight down. Look at the August he had—fantastic. All we
need now is to clinch the division, and I defy management to tell
me they won’t meet our price.”

Suzanna sat back in her seat and looked at
the agent. “That isn’t why Tim plays, Mort. You do know that, don’t
you? He’d play for free, just so he could play.”

“Oh, boy, do I know that. Tim and Jack both.
Why do you think they need me?”

“Aunt Sadie says you’ve been great.
Especially after Mr. and Mrs. Trehan died. Like a loving uncle, or
something.”

“They were good people, Suzanna, and they
raised good sons. Okay,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows on
his knees. “Here we go. I brought you a program, in case you want
to keep score again. Kolecki just singled.”

“Thank you, Mort,” Suzanna said, feeling
those darn tears threatening again. “Just remember, Mort. This is
just between the two of us. Jack and Keely and everybody know Tim
wasn’t feeling well, but they don’t know why. I couldn’t do that to
Tim.”

“You love him a lot, don’t you,
sweetheart?”

“Yes, I do. That’s why this is so hard.”

It would be easy, so very easy, to just give
in, let what would happen just happen.

But then she’d never know, would she? Did Tim
love her? Or did he need the “luck” she brought him? Did he think
babies were neat in general, or that a baby they had together would
be special?

Aunt Sadie and Mrs. B. said Tim was coming
along, but he still had some growing up to do.

Maybe, Suzanna thought, pressing a hand
against her belly, she did, too...

* * *

She was here, in the stadium. Mort wouldn’t
tell him where, or what he’d said to get her here; but she was
here, and Mort had relented enough to tell him that Jack would be
picking her up outside the players’ entrance after the game.

It wasn’t all he wanted, but it was a
start.

She knew what the game meant to him, what it
had always meant to him. She’d been with him from the start.
Playing on the same team in rubber ball when the coaches had to
remind them where first base was, then keeping the stats on every
other team he’d ever played on. Good old Suze.

He didn’t want good old Suze. He wanted
Suzanna. His Suzanna.

But, for now, he’d take what he could
get.

He stepped to the plate, smiled, because the
Mets thought so little of his hitting anymore that they didn’t care
if he batted leftie.

Didn’t they know that was the best way to get
his juices up? Suzanna knew.

He looked up at the stands, toward the luxury
boxes, and waved, then pointed to right center field. Shared a
moment, shared their private joke on the Mets.

Lowering the bat, he drew an imaginary line
across the plate. He took two quick swings, then coiled the bat,
stared at the pitcher, sure his nod to the catcher meant he’d just
agreed to a low fast one, outside.

You think I can’t hit that one? Come on,
wise guy, try it. Just try it.

He waved at the super boxes again as he
rounded the bases and headed home behind Jeff Kolecki, his tape
measure home run making it two to nothing in the top of the
first.

He got to the dugout, where he shared high
fives with his teammates, then raced into the clubhouse and threw
up a whopping helping of ziti in marinara sauce.

* * *

Suzanna had planned, hoped, to be gone before
Tim could track her down; but Jack’s game had run late, and they
were still waiting for the limousine to pick them up when Tim came
outside and spotted them.

“Good game, Tim,” she told him with an overly
bright smile, then turned her head so that his kiss landed on her
cheek. “One down, and two to go.”

“They’re already selling playoff tickets at
home,” Mort told him, clapping him on the back. “And, best of all,
I’ve got a meeting in Philly next Wednesday with the money
man.”

“Uh-huh,” Tim said, obviously not paying
attention to Mort, as he kept staring at Suzanna. “How are you
feeling?”

“Fine,” she said, then frowned, hopefully a
perplexed frown. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Hey, I’m just glad you’re here.
You, too, Keel.”

“I wondered when you’d see me. I didn’t think
I was invisible,” Keely said, putting both hands on her huge belly.
“But you never know.”

Suzanna tried not to look directly at Tim. He
looked so good, if a little thin.
Sure. I get fat and he gets
thin. Women are cursed.

“Suze?”

“Hmmm?”

“I was thinking. Maybe, instead of driving
all the way back to Whitehall, you could, you know, stay here with
me?”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Tim.”

“You mean you don’t want to,” he said, his
voice becoming slightly sharp.

“No, I mean I can’t. Didn’t you know that Sam
sent out telegrams to all the wives? No cohabitation until this
series is over. He said that cohabitation would sap your strength.
Except he said it a little differently. It was probably all the
stops
in the telegram that made it seem a little, well,
tacky.”

“Cripes!” Tim shoved a hand through his hair,
which still bore the indentation from his cap. “What does the man
think? That we’re all going to have orgies, or something?”

Suzanna felt her cheeks growing hot. “Tim,”
she warned quietly, wishing Keely would stop giggling.

“No,” he said, avoiding the hand she tried to
place on his arm. “No, it’s dumb, stupid. We’re grown men, for
crying out loud. Curfews on the road, the team bus, the damn
meditation crap he pulled with us tonight. And now
this?
Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Suzanna watched as Tim, looking so damn sexy
in his black pullover and khakis, slammed back through the door,
leaving the three of them standing there.

“Mood swing,” Mort whispered quietly, so that
Keely wouldn’t hear. “I read a few chapters before I handed over
the books. Typical mood swing.”

“Oh, here we go,” Keely said, pointing to the
long black limousine that had pulled into the restricted parking
area. “And here’s my hero. How did it go, darling?” she asked as
Jack stepped out of the limo and took Keely in his arms.

“We lost,” he said. “I don’t think the guys
can get themselves up for the games, knowing we’ve already
clinched. But that’s not good. Streaks are streaks, winning or
losing. They’ll be better tomorrow. But you’re not coming in,
right, Keel? I think you’re done with trips to New York until after
the baby’s born.”

“Yes, master,” Keely said, rolling her eyes
at Suzanna. “See? They get all bossy when they think they can. Jack
already knows this is my last trip to New York, because I told him
so. He’s just trying to look like macho-daddy.”

“I think he’s sweet,” Suzanna said, those
ready tears stinging her eyes once more.

“And I think I’m out of here,” Mort said,
kissing both women. “Sadie said when I couldn’t remember who knows
what and who I lied to last, it was time to get back behind my
desk. See you tomorrow night, Suzanna?”

“Sure, Mort,” she told him. “I’ll be here,
promise.”

“What was all that about?” Keely asked,
watching Mort walk away. “There’s only one lie, that we don’t know
you’re pregnant. And that’s not even a lie, not really. I mean, if
Tim
asked,
and we said no, then that would be a lie. This is
just a secret, right?”

“Right,” Suzanna said sincerely. One secret.
Plus the one that Mort had told her about Tim. That Tim knew she
was pregnant, and that he was throwing up every morning. Keely and
Jack, and all the rest of them, couldn’t know that. Of course,
since Mort knew, it was always possible that Aunt Sadie also knew,
although she probably wouldn’t tell anyone else. Except maybe Mrs.
B. But not Jack and Keely. And
she
wasn’t going to confide
in Keely, not this time.

It was getting difficult to remember who knew
what or, as Tim might say it, how to tell the players without a
scorecard.

Suzanna smiled, thankful to see Tim heading
toward them once more. “Look at that face. I don’t think he won
this one,” she said to Jack.

“I have to go back to the hotel on the team
bus,” Tim said, his eyes still sparking blue fire. “But that
doesn’t mean you can’t sneak into the hotel, get a room. Dusty
wouldn’t tell on me.”

“Dusty?” Suzanna shook her head. “Would that
be the same Dusty who told me about the one-in-three odds? That
Dusty?”

“Never mind,” Tim said, then muttered
something under his breath. “Okay, okay. So I’ve got to stay with
the team this weekend. But after we take this series—”

“Ah, there’s the Tim we all know and love.
Not a doubt in his mind.”

“Shut up, Jack. Like I was saying, after we
win this series, we’ll have a free day before the divisional
playoffs begin, but we’ll need that for travel. That means another
trip out of town for a five-game series we’ll win in three. Your
turn, bro.”

“Me? I’m not going to say a word, Tim. You
think you can win six in a row—with Phillies pitching? Hey, go for
it.”

“Thank you. Now, after we take the division,
we go best of seven for the pennant. That’s another week, more if
we get rained out. Then four more to beat your Yanks, Jack—maybe
six, if you’re lucky—and then, by damn, I’m coming home.”

Suzanna mentally added up the days, for
games, for travel, possible rain outs. “But... But that means it
could be well into the middle of October before you’re home.”

Tim put his hands on her upper arms. “I’ll
call every day, Suze, promise. And you still can come to the games,
stay with the other wives who travel with the team. I really wish
you’d do that, Suze.”

“But... But Margo’s going to have her
kittens. I mean, Aunt Sadie isn’t sure of the day, but we’re pretty
sure it will be within the next week or two. I can’t leave
her.”

Tim backed up two steps. “You’re kidding,
right? I’m going to be playing for a chance at the World Series,
and you’re going to stay home and watch a cat?”

Suzanna tipped up her chin. “Yes, Tim, I’m
going to stay home and watch a cat. You have a problem with
that?”

He did, obviously. Oh, boy, did he ever.

But, instead of exploding, he surprised her
by taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, then saying, “Okay.
Okay, Suze. Just come back tomorrow, and Sunday. After that, we’ll
play it by ear.”

“And you’re not angry?”

“Me? No, I’m not angry. It’s all my fault
anyway; everybody knows that. I should have had Lucky...
snipped.”

“Sam’s waving at you from the bus, Tim,” Jack
said, with an inclination of his head. “I think you have to go. So
do we. Time I got little mother here tucked up in bed.”

“Ah, so thoughtful. And my feet hurt, Jack.
Maybe you could carry me over to the limo?”

“How about I go find a wheelbarrow,
sweetheart,” Jack shot back at her, and Keely laughed as she took
his hand, dragged him to the limousine.

“That’s another thing, Tim,” Suzanna said
once Jack and Keely were in the backseat of the limo. “Keely’s due
October twenty-eighth. But Dr. Phillips... I mean, but her
obstetrician told her she’s showing signs that she may be earlier
than that. If the Yankees make the Series, Jack has to be there for
the radio broadcasts, so someone will have to stay with Keely.”