Q: Do you want french fries?
Yogi Berra: Okay, but no potatoes. I’m on a diet.
Suzanna turned pages in the magazine, not seeing a single word.
Why couldn’t Tim be here with her? He’d wanted to, she knew that, but both he and Jack had to fly to California the previous day, to appear in the commercial Mort had set up for them months ago, and Tim had totally forgotten about, or he would have canceled it.
He must have told her that a dozen times: “I would have canceled the damn thing.”
But how was he to know that Dr. Phillips would break her ankle, skiing, over the holidays, and postpone the sonogram?
So here she was, all by herself. Keely couldn’t come, because Candy was down with a cold, and so was Aunt Sadie. Mrs. B. was substitute teaching again, and Joey was in Bayonne.
Until she believed she could look at him with a straight face, she hoped Joey would stay in Bayonne. “Mrs. Trehan?”
Suzanna looked up, to see the same male technician motioning for her to follow him.
She pushed both hands against the arms of the chair and got to her feet. She had a scale at home now, thanks to a Christmas present from Tim, whom she could have cheerfully murdered as he stepped on the thing, showing her that it printed out digitally—in half pounds.
So she knew she’d gained another eight pounds this month, and nothing she did seemed to mean anything when she looked at food. It all still cried out, “Eat me, eat me!” Why couldn’t she be nauseous, like Tim? Not that she actually could envy him that one....
“There you are, Suzanna,” Dr. Phillips said as she entered the room, hobbling a little on her purple, knee-high cast. “I’m sorry for the delay, but since you saw my associate in the office, I know you’re still doing just fine. Still blossoming, I see?”
The technician helped Suzanna up onto the examining table. “Flowers blossom, Doctor,” she said. “I’m a mountain being pushed up by some shift in the seismic plates.”
“And now we’re going to find out, once and for all, I hope, just why you’re gaining so quickly. I’m still thinking multiples, you know, even if my associate couldn’t find a second heartbeat. Babies can hide really well.”
“I think the Twinkies have something to do with my weight gain. Tim watches me like a hawk, but I still found a way to hide them in the laundry room, a place he never goes. I’m shameless, and I know it. I complain about my weight, and then I eat.”
Dr. Phillips chuckled, then took charge of the sonogram, moving the sensor over Suzanna’s bare stomach.
“Where is your husband, Suzanna? I was sure he’d be here.”
“In California,” Suzanna said, sighing, and also trying to look at the screen on the machine. It looked like a piece of pie. Everything looked like a piece of pie to her. “He’s filming a commercial, then has to stop in Saint Louis on his way home, for some autograph show. What do you see?”
“Well, I’m still just checking, but I can tell you without hesitation that you did not swallow a watermelon seed. You’re definitely pregnant. Ah, nice full bladder, good.”
“I always have a full bladder,” Suzanna groused, wishing Tim were here, holding her hand. She was so nervous.
“Uh-oh.”
Suzanna lifted her head as far as possible while lying on her back. “Uh-oh? What uh-oh? Is... Is something wrong.”
“It would be, if I seriously believed your baby has three arms. As it is, I’d say we’re looking at twins.” The doctor did something with the dials that caused a white square to appear on the screen, then pushed a button that made it sound as if she’d snapped a picture. “Got you, you little dickens. Did you really think you could keep avoiding me?”
Suzanna heard the doctor as if from a distance. Twins. Not one life growing under her heart, but two. Double the reasons to make this marriage work. Not only work, but thrive.
“Tim’s going to faint,” she said at last, when she could speak again.
“Yes,” Dr. Phillips said, taking more pictures. “How is he, anyway? Still struggling with his couvades syndrome?”
“Yes. He had another nosebleed last week, which is silly, because I don’t have nosebleeds. I’m waiting for his ankles to start swelling.”
“The nosebleeds are part of it, probably something hormonal. There are several conflicting opinions. Do you know that many physicians believe that male pregnancy symptoms are a good thing? They believe it brings father, mother, and baby closer. And they’ll disappear as soon as the baby—the babies—are born. Now, just a few more pictures for my trophy wall, okay?”
“Okay,” Suzanna said quietly.
“I can give you the sex of one of them, but that second little bugger is still being pretty modest, hiding behind the other one. Woman to woman, Suzanna, no wonder you’re having backaches. So, do you want me to tell you?”
“No, please don’t. Tim and I—well, me, actually—I decided I didn’t want to know.”
Once the examination was over, Dr. Phillips told her that from now on she wanted to see her weekly, because although she was due in mid April, she might be as much as a full month early, which was not all that uncommon with twins.
“Isn’t that too soon?” Suzanna asked as the technician helped her off the examination table.
“Not for twins, no. And, since we’re still not sure of your due date, and considering your size, and the size of those babies—you’re feeding them well, Suzanna—I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you were early. Don’t worry.”
“March? Oh, no. Tim will be in Florida in March, for spring training. He leaves the third week in February. If I tell him this, he won’t go.”
“I don’t want to butt in here, but he’s your husband, Suzanna. You have to tell him.”
“Maybe,” Suzanna said, sighing. “Are you sure I could be early?”
“They’re babies, Suzanna. Nobody can be sure of anything.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him we’re having twins,” Suzanna said, mostly to herself. “But if I tell him I might be early, then he’d ask why, because he knows I couldn’t have gotten pregnant any sooner than last July.”
Dr. Phillips motioned for the technician to leave the room, then said, “Suzanna, I don’t want to pry, but I’m not just treating you and the babies; I’m treating all of you, your family. When I last saw Keely, she told me you and Tim are still, well, still getting used to the marriage?”
“We’re... We’re doing okay. Even better than okay, lately.”
“Good, that’s very good. But I don’t recommend keeping this a secret from him, even if you think it’s for his own good. He needs to know, then make his own decisions.”
Suzanna sniffled, then wiped at her eyes. “I know. Thank you, Doctor. I’ll... I’ll think about it. But, in the meantime, can I please ask you to keep my secret.”
“Against my better judgment, yes.”
* * *
“Who speaks for this child?”
“We do,” Tim and Suzanna said together.
They stood in the large vestibule of the church the first week of February, where the baptismal font was located, Suzanna holding Johnny, Tim standing beside her.
Jack and Keely stood on either side of the priest, beaming at them, Candy held high against Jack’s shoulder.
Aunt Sadie sniffled into a white handkerchief with yellow ducks printed on it, and Mrs. B. stood with her chin lifted, as if to make sure the priest wouldn’t drown Johnny when the time came to drip water on his little head.
Joey was recording the entire thing with a palm-sized video recorder while Bruno held up portable lights, high above his head—which was pretty high.
Mort was outside, for the second time, talking into his cell phone.
Tim was grateful Father O’Mara had rehearsed them so well, because he was feeling decidedly queasy, again. The closer Suzanna came to her due date, the more his symptoms snuck up on him at the damndest moments. He could tell Suzanna was worried about him—because most nights she suggested they eat out, rather than experiment with her home cooking.
“We do renounce him,” he and Suzanna said, then continued through more responses, Suzanna’s voice more steady, clearer than his. Ten minutes later the christening was over, and Keely had grabbed a definitely unhappy Johnny back into her arms, quickly stuffing the pacifier into his mouth.
“Poor baby,” she crooned as Suzanna helped her rebutton Johnny’s long white gown. “They strip you down, they get you all wet, they put salt on your tongue. You’ve had better days, haven’t you?”
“That’s not it. He’s crying because he’s wearing a dress,” Jack said, earning himself a nasty look from his wife.
Tim walked outside to join Mort, grateful for the cold, crisp air. “What’s up, Mort. You missed the whole thing.”
“Nothing,” Mort said, flipping his phone closed and sticking it back in the pocket of his topcoat—the cashmere one with the fur collar. “Oh, all right, if you’re going to drag it out of me. It’s Sam. He’s had a heart attack.”
Tim blinked, unable to take in Mort’s words. They had come flying toward him from so far out in left field that he couldn’t believe them. “Sam? Our Sam? Sam Kizer?”
“Yeah, that Sam. Hell, Tim, he was a walking time bomb, and we all knew it. Anger management class? That was like trying to put out a forest fire with a thimbleful of water. Not to mention the cheese steaks he ate every day. But he’s okay. He’s had the surgery.”
“Open-heart?”
“I suppose so. At home, in North Carolina. I was just on the phone with his wife. He wants to see you.”
Tim pressed both bands to his chest. “Me? Why? I mean, sure, I want to fly down and see him, but why now? He’s still in the hospital, right?”
Mort took Tim’s arm and led him down the walkway to the street. “Tim, who’s been on this team the longest?”
“Me,” he said, still not understanding. “I’ve never been anywhere else. You know that.”
“Right. And who’s captain of the team? You again, right?”
“So? I’m a player, not a manager. And Sam’s coming back, isn’t he?”
“His wife says so, once the doctors give the okay. Remember Dan Reeves? Football coach?”
“Yeah. He had open-heart. And he’s still coaching.”
“So why should it be any different for Sam, right? Maybe I can get him one of those cholesterol-lowering commercials. Ask him about that, okay? Hey, Jack, come over here.”
Jack, carrying Candy, walked over, looked from Mort to Tim. “What’s up? I can feel Mort’s radar quivering. Mort?”
“Sam Kizer had open-heart surgery eight days ago. They’ve kept it from the press, all hush-hush, but they’ll be going public later this afternoon. He wants Tim there with him tomorrow, when he’s released from the hospital, to do a quick press conference. I couldn’t talk his wife out of it.”
“Why?” Jack asked, echoing his brother.
“Well, here’s the thing. The pitchers report early to Florida, and for some reason, Sam wants Tim there then, too, before the rest of the team.”
“What the hell for? The minor league catchers will be there.”
“That’s what all the phone calls were about. Sam’s got it in his head that Tim’s the stability on the team. That he’ll keep everyone calm, keep the program going.”
“He’s got a full staff of coaches, Mort,” Tim pointed out, trying to be reasonable. Of course, using “reason” and “Sam Kizer” in the same thought was pretty ridiculous no matter what the situation.
“But he wants you. You’re good with the press. Face it, Tim, most of his coaches talk in grunts. And Larry Watkins stutters when he’s upset. He never talks to the press. I can’t help it if you’re the silver-tongued devil, Tim.”
Jack shook his head. “Doesn’t Sam know Suzanna’s pregnant?”
Mort shrugged. “Bigger question, Tim. Does he care? And tell me, how do you turn down a guy with a zipper in his chest? You’ve got Jack and Keely here, Tim. Sadie, right? What could go wrong?”
Tim looked back toward the church, watching Joey as he kept his hand on Suzanna’s elbow, so that she didn’t slip on any remaining patches of ice left over from last week’s fifteen-inch snowfall. Joey was being a real brick, driving up from Bayonne, helping Suzanna whenever he could. But leaving Suzanna with Joey? “Cripes,” he said. “It’s bad enough I was going to be leaving in a month. How am I going to tell her this one?”
* * *
Suzanna sat on the bedside chair and watched as Tim packed his suitcases. “Are you sure I can’t help you?”
“No, that’s okay. You just rest. We stayed longer at Johnny’s party than we should have. I’ve got to catch the last flight out of here tonight. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
She pinned a bright smile on her face, even as she looked down at her swollen ankles as she rested her feet on the footstool Tim had dragged over to her. No more salt. That was it, no more salt! But Keely baked such a wonderful ham, she hadn’t been able to resist. “I’m going to be fine. I’m surrounded by people who will take care of me, you know that. And I’ve got the cats to keep me warm at night.”
“And you see Dr. Phillips again tomorrow? I wish I could go to the appointments, but I’ve been so busy since that damn snowstorm took out half the roof at the bowling alley.”
“I know. But Mrs. B. has been a brick. And she even stops at Stop signs. Besides, it usually takes two hours of sitting in the waiting room to see Dr. Phillips for five seconds. You went to all of the classes. Thank goodness we got them out of the way early, because of your spring training.”
He shoved several long-sleeved knit shirts into a duffel bag, and Suzanna winced, trying not to think what they would look like when he took them back out again.
“You’re doing a lot better with your weight,” Tim said, reaching into his sock drawer.
“I know. Only five pounds this month. I still weigh less than you do. When you stepped on that scale, and I realized that I was actually only thirty pounds lighter than you? It was a real wake-up call, I can tell you.”
“You were skinny when we met up again. You could have used a couple of extra pounds.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now he tells me. Although I’m sure you didn’t mean this many extra pounds.”
He stopped packing and walked over to her, going down on his knees beside her. “Are you going to be all right at night? I mean, without me there to...”
“I’ve already decided to sleep in the back bedroom, and I’ll just stuff some extra pillows behind me. And remember the cats—although they won’t replace you. I’ll be fine, Tim, just fine. And you’ll be home as often as you can.”
“Every weekend, I swear it. Damn it,” he said, getting to his feet again. “Two steps forward and one back. That’s what my mom always used to say. We’re doing so well, Suze. I don’t want to leave.”
Suzanna looked up at him, blinking back tears. “And I don’t want you to go.”
He was beside her again in an instant. “You don’t? Why, Suze?”
She reached out to cup his cheek in her hand. “You know why, Tim Trehan, but I’m not going to say it first.”
He grinned. “If I say it, will you say it second?”
“Probably,” she said with a watery smile. “Try me.”
“Okay—wait. Will you believe me when I say it? Have I proven myself yet? Do you... Do you trust me now?”
“Oh, Tim, I trust you. I really do. Everything you’ve done these past months? Putting up with me when I’ve been so... so silly? How can I not trust you? I love you.”
His grin went nearly ear to ear. “Made you say it first,” he crowed, then took her hands, pulled her to her feet, and took her into his arms. “Ah, babe, I love you, too. I love you so damn much it hurts.”
“Promise?” she whispered against his chest as he stroked her back, holding her, but gently, as if she might break.
“Promise,” he said, kissing her hair. “You’re my life, Suze. It just took almost losing you to realize that I’m a slow learner.”
“I make you look like the class genius,” she said, pushing her head back so that she could look up into his face. What she saw there made her knees go weak. He was crying. Her Tim. Crying.
“Oh, Tim,” she said, slipping her arms up and over his shoulders. “If I could only get closer.”
“Yeah,” he said, blinking. “Someone’s come between us, huh?”
She began playing with the hair at his nape. “Do you think there’s an early flight tomorrow? Do you have to go tonight?”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “Oh, babe, you do pick your times. There’s nothing I want more than to hold you, to love you, but the books I read—”
“The books are just books. Dr. Phillips says it’s all right until it’s not comfortable anymore. I think I could be... very comfortable.”
He sneaked a look at the bed. “Really?”
“Really,” Suzanna said, not caring that her belly button had, just in this last week, decided to become an “outie” rather than an “innie.” Not caring that she was far from the slim-waisted woman who had fallen into bed with Tim last July. Not caring one single bit.
Because he loved her; he’d proven that in so many, many ways. Because he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful creature in the world.
Because she loved him. So much. Not the way she’d thought she’d loved him, when she was young, and idealistic, and stupid. She loved him for the man he was, not the boy she’d put on a pedestal, worshipped from afar.
They had both grown; they had both changed. And now here they were.
At last, at long last, here they were. And it had all been worth the trip.
“Tim? You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
He looked down at her, smiled with just one side of his mouth, but with both eyes. “Only when you cook, babe,” he said, and then he led her toward the bed.
She felt like a princess as he guided her up onto the two-step affair that had first intrigued her, then troubled her, and now would help lift her on the way to a new paradise.
While she stood balanced on the top step, Tim put out his arm and, in one quick motion, swept stacks of his clothing to the floor.
“Tim! I ironed some of those things.”
“I’ll send them out to be pressed,” he said, pulling down the bedspread.
She half turned, to sit on the bed, and he helped her raise her legs onto the mattress. She was half sitting, propped against some of the many pillows that had become part of her bedroom ensemble.
He was stripping off his slacks as he rounded the bed to climb in the other side. He knelt on the mattress, pulled his shirt and crew neck sweater off in one quick motion, then grinned at her. “I don’t believe this.”
She looked down at her Phillies shirt and sweatpants. “It’s not quite how I pictured this moment either,” she admitted, putting both hands on her swollen belly.
Tim reached down and pulled up the sheet and one blanket, covering both of them to the waist, then leaned on one bent arm and grinned at her. “How are we going to do this?”
“I have no idea,” Suzanna said, feeling herself blush. But then he touched her breast, her swollen breast, and she closed her eyes, sighed. He lowered his hand, slipped beneath the T-shirt, then claimed her again, rubbed a thumb across her super-sensitive nipple. “Oh, that’s good. That’s so good.”
“If this is baby fat, Suze, I’m all for it,” he said, pushing up the T-shirt, then lowering his face to her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth.
She held him, one hand on his back, the other cupping his cheek, as he kissed her, whispered to her, went on a gentle investigation of her changed body. As he roused her, as he made her feel beautiful, and cherished, and oh, so very loved....
* * *
Keely put her elbows on the kitchen table and dropped her chin into her hands as she looked at Suzanna. One of those people who seemed to do two things effortlessly at the same time, she was also jiggling Johnny’s infant seat with her foot, keeping the baby happy. “I don’t get it. Tim’s gone, and you’ve been looking, better, happier, than you have in months. I mean it. These past three or four weeks you’ve been positively glowing. Have I been wrong all this time, and you don’t love him?”
“Oh, I love him,” Suzanna said, knowing her smile bordered on the dreamy side of lunacy. “He calls me five times a day, I swear it, sometimes to moan and groan about being away, having to deal with the press, the owners, but mostly to tell me he loves me. He loves me, Keel. He really does. And I love him. It’s real. For him, for me.”
“I told you you’d know when it was real, didn’t I? So, when was your moment?”
Suzanna lowered her head as she sipped tea, sure Keely would be able to read her expression. She’d kept this secret to herself and didn’t plan to be more than vague now. “Oh, I don’t know. The day of the christening?”
“Really. That long ago? We were all pretty busy that day, and then Tim was gone the next morning. What did I miss?”
“Nothing you’re going to learn from me,” Suzanna said, toasting Keely with her teacup. “Now, do you want to hear my other news? I’ve been keeping it secret for a while now, thank goodness, or Tim wouldn’t have been able to help Sam, but I have to tell someone or I’m going to burst. Well, I’m definitely going to burst; that much is pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“I know I didn’t get that big, but you told me Dr. Phillips said you’re going to have a big baby.”
“Or two small ones,” Suzanna said, then giggled as Keely’s mouth dropped open. “Okay, definitely two small ones.”
Keely jumped up so quickly that Johnny began to cry, but she ignored him as she raced around the table to hug Suzanna. “Twins! I don’t believe it! And you’ve been keeping it a secret? From us, right. Not from Tim.”
Suzanna waited until Keely had picked up her son before she spoke again. “I haven’t told Tim.”
“You haven’t—well, we know his cell phone number. Let’s call him. This news is too good to—wait a minute. How long have you known this?”
“Over a month,” Suzanna said, playing with her teaspoon so she could avoid Keely’s eyes. “I swore Dr. Phillips to secrecy.”
“Why? I don’t get it. You’re telling me you and Tim are in love—not that everyone didn’t know that. You’re telling me everything’s hunky-dory between the two of you. So why didn’t you tell him?”
“I... I didn’t want to worry him,” Suzanna said, then winced. “Oh, okay, so that’s only partially true. Keely, he’s got all these pregnancy symptoms. He even gets backaches now.”
“He’d get them anyway,” Keely pointed out reasonably.
Suzanna sighed. That was the problem with talking to people. They were always so reasonable.
“And Dr. Phillips says twins are often early. Even a month early, although for some reason they’re very developed, their lungs and everything, so they’re just fine. I’ve been reading about it.”
“Nope,” Keely said, sitting back in her chair, Johnny snuggled into her shoulder. “I still don’t get it.”
“Keely, think. The baby’s due the second week in April. Tim will be on a ten day home stand then, so that’s all right. He’s only an hour away from home and has already planned to drive back here every night. But if I go into labor in March? He’ll still be in Florida.”
“The hell he would,” Keely said, making a face. “He’d be right here, waiting for you to pop, and nobody’d stop him. Oh, I get it. He’d go AWOL, right?”
“Exactly. It was bad enough thinking about that before Sam’s heart surgery. But now? Sam is rejoining the club next week, the first of March, but he’s still relying on Tim. He talks to the press, he’s been keeping Sam up to date on everything, evaluating the pitching staff—who better to do that than the catcher, who’s going to tell the whole truth, when the pitching coach just might not? To put it bluntly, Sam isn’t a very trusting soul. Besides, spring training gets under way tomorrow for everyone.”
“So you were going to tell him?”
“Yes,” Suzanna said, nodding. “Yes, I was. I had to get used to the idea first, but I was going to tell him. The day of the christening, as a matter of fact. It seemed like a good day for it.”
“The same day you both knew for sure that you’re in love with each other. The same day he learned about Sam. Busy day, Suze.”
“Exactly. Still, I wanted to tell him. I was going to tell him. But then we got... distracted.” Suzanna quickly took another sip of her now tepid tea.
“Okay. I understand. No, damn it, I don’t understand. He has to know, Suzanna. He deserves to know.”
“And I agree. I almost told him last weekend, when he got home, but he was so exhausted he slept most of the weekend. I’ll tell him this weekend.”
“Wrong,” Keely said, going over to pick up the cordless phone. “You’ll tell him now. You were at the doctor’s today. He’s expecting a report. Tell him today. Don’t let him know you’ve known yourself until today. I mean it, Suzanna. I know you’re pregnant, I know you’re scared, and I know you and Tim love each other. But we’ve already been around this park, and I know you don’t want to go there again. Don’t screw this up.”
Suzanna looked at the telephone, then took it. “Man, you’re bossy.”
“It’s what I do. My Aunt Mary always tells me that a person should go with her strengths,” Keely said, hefting Johnny higher in her arms. “Now, dial.”
* * *
Dusty Johnson sat down on the bench outside the open lockers in the clubhouse and looked at Tim. “Hey, you feelin’ all right?”
Tim looked at him, blinked, tried to remember his name. He knew him. He had carroty hair, just like Suzanna. “Oh. Dusty. Hi.”
“Yeah, hi. What’s wrong? Too much Florida sunshine today?”
“No, no, that’s not it. I’m fine.” Tim slipped his cell phone back into his pocket, stood up, looked around as if trying to orient himself to exactly where he was. “I’ve... Look, I’ve got to go.”
“Go? Go where? We still have one more practice today. And then we’re all gettin’ together to plan Sam’s welcome back party, remember? We elected you to be in charge.”
Tim sat back down again. “Oh, yeah, I forgot.” He swallowed hard, then stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d sort of like to be alone for a few minutes.”
“Sure, no problem,” Dusty said, standing up. “We can talk later, if you want to.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Tim said, already forgetting that he’d even spoken to his teammate.
Twins. He was going to have twins. He and Suzanna were going to have twins.
He reached back and absently rubbed at the backache that had been nagging him on and off for weeks, then closed his eyes, tried to picture what it would be like having twins.
His mom and dad had survived it, survived him and Jack and those wild years when his mom had called them Double Trouble. Jack was Double, and he was Trouble.
Always had been.
“Twins,” he said trying the word out loud. Two cribs, two high chairs, two car seats, two of everything.
Double the love.
His stomach did a small flip, and he knew he’d be heading for the bathroom any time now to toss his cookies. That hadn’t happened in a while, but it didn’t surprise him.
The other night, on the phone, Suzanna had teased him that he’d probably go into labor with her. He’d laughed, but it wasn’t funny.
He couldn’t fall apart. He was her coach. And now she’d need him twice as much. He couldn’t fail her.
Taking a deep breath, he willed his stomach to stop roiling, then headed back out onto the field. It was a good thing he was building up all these good deeds with Sam, because the moment he thought Suzanna needed him, he was outta here.