Be My Baby Tonight (32 page)

Suzanna’s cheeks had been bright red from the
cold, and her eyes had sparkled as he tried to load the tree into
the back of his four-by-four, without much success.

They had driven all the way home with half a
tree sticking out the back, Suzanna’s bright wool scarf tied to it
to warn other motorists.

And then she’d made hot chocolate, and they
had struggled with the tree stand, and Suzanna made him move the
whole thing twice, to either side of the living room, and finally
to the den.

“What’s the sense of having it if we can’t
enjoy it. We’re never in the living room.” That was what she’d
said, and he’d agreed. He’d have agreed to almost anything if it
meant he didn’t have to drag tree and tree stand another inch.

“It looks great, doesn’t it?” he said now,
walking up to stand beside Suzanna, who was carefully repositioning
a crystal bell. They both ignored the fact that Margo and the
kittens had taken up residence under the tree. How much harm could
they do?

“I remember when I was a kid,” Suzanna said,
not looking at him. “Dad would put the lights on, and then Mom
would put the ornaments on, and then I’d ruin the whole thing by
throwing handfuls of tinsel all over it. This is so much prettier,
but maybe it’s too perfect.”

“Just wait. One day our kids will be throwing
tinsel, and you’ll be wishing it was perfect again.”

He felt her stiffen slightly as he dared to
slip an arm around her waist.

“Suzanna?”

“Tim?”

“You go, first,” he said as they had both
spoken at the same time.

“No, that’s okay. You first.”

“I’ve been first long enough, Suze, don’t you
think? Come on, what’s on your mind? Are you having second thoughts
about saying yes to Father O’Mara?”

“No,” she said, sighing. “I want everything
right for this baby, and that means getting married again, I
suppose. This is something else. I... I was just wondering if—oh,
this is silly.”

“What?” he asked, gently grabbing her arm as
she turned away from him.

“The kettle’s whistling, Tim. I have to turn
off the stove,” she said, continuing on into the kitchen.

He was close behind her.

“So?” he asked after she poured herself a cup
of decaffeinated tea, then added three heaping spoonfuls of sugar.
She was doing a little better, but she still had that sweet tooth
biting on all cylinders.

“Well,” she said, turning to face him. “It’s
just that,” she began, then stopped, shook her head. “Oh, this is
just too silly. Tim, there are five bedrooms upstairs. I’m in one,
you’re in another, and the other three are still vacant except for
the carpets you picked out for each one, right?”

“Right. There was no reason to rush, not with
the rest of the house to furnish. Keely said one guest bedroom
would work for now.”

“And she was right, to a point. I mean, we’ll
be turning the front bedroom into a nursery,” Suzanna said, then
hastened to add, “but not yet, Tim. I... I don’t want anything done
until the baby’s born. We can plan, we can maybe buy a few things,
but I don’t want to do much until the baby’s born.”

He nodded, remembering how she’d sobbed into
his chest that night at the hospital, going on about empty
nurseries and broken dreams and jinxing things.

He wasn’t the only superstitious member of
this branch of the Trehan family.

“Okay, no nursery until the baby comes. Plan
it, know what we want, and then send me shopping, right?”

“Thank you, Tim. Keely promised to help. She
says she’ll have everything organized and make her assault—she
called it an assault—on the stores the moment the baby arrives. I’m
just going to pick two different color schemes.”

“We could have learned the baby’s sex during
the sonogram, Suze. Dr. Phillips said she was ninety-nine percent
sure. Why didn’t you want to do that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I like
surprises?”

“No, you don’t. Otherwise, we’d be sleeping
in the same bed by now.”

She dipped her head slightly, then looked at
him. “That’s... That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s the
bed.”

“Which bed? I’m being invited to bed? Man, we
should have gone to see Father O’Mara a long time ago. I didn’t
know getting married again would work so well.”

“Down, boy,” Suzanna said, holding out her
arms, so that he stayed where he was, when he wanted to be where
she was. “I’m just trying to tell you that I can’t climb into that
high bed anymore.” She sort of wrapped her hands around her belly.
“Actually, it’s climbing out again that’s such a pain. I go to the
bathroom at least twice every night, and I’m afraid I’ll take a
wrong step, miss the stool, and...”

“I’ll saw off the legs,” Tim said, and he
meant it. “I can saw a tree; I can saw bed legs.”

“No, no. I just want us to change beds,
that’s all. You can have your bedroom back, and I’ll take
yours.”

He thought about it a moment. That was all it
took, one moment. “No.”

“Thank you—what did you say?”

“I said, no. I have a better idea. I move
back into
our
bedroom, and I help you in and out of bed. You
just wake me up, and I’ll help, honest. And Jack told me Keely was
always a lot more comfortable if he helped her arrange pillows,
between her legs, under her belly. And then he’d lie back to back
with her, to help support her. I can do that for you, Suzanna. I
want
to do that.”

She pressed a hand to her mouth as she
blinked rapidly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, Tim,” she
said, walking toward him. “We can’t have sex. I’m not ready for
that. I know you’re trying, and I’m trying, but please, don’t push
it. Not now. Not yet. I’m so sorry...”

He took two steps back. “Who the hell is
talking about sex?” he asked, stunned to realize he was actually
angry. “You’re my wife, you’re pregnant, and I’m just trying to
help. Don’t make it sound like I’m only trying to get into your
pants, for crying out loud. Give me a little credit.”

Her face paled. “You don’t want to have sex
with me?” she asked, her voice small, her whole body going
small—and at the rate she was growing, that wasn’t an easy trick.
“It’s because I’m so fat again, isn’t it?”

“No! You’re not fat, Suze, you’re pregnant.
And you’re beautiful. You’re blooming, you... you
glow.
And
I like your hair.”

He winced. He thought he might be getting
somewhere for a moment there, but then he went and mentioned her
hair.

Instantly, she put both hands to her head.
“You can’t like my hair.”

“I liked it when we were twelve; why
shouldn’t I like it now?”

“Because I can’t color it while I’m pregnant,
and because it’s all growing out and it’s all
orange
again.
That’s what I am. I’m just one big, fat orange. I’m surprised
someone hasn’t stuck a Sunkist sticker on me.”

“And the mood pendulum swings to the other
side,” Tim muttered under his breath, going toward her, quickly
gathering her into his arms. “I wouldn’t be pregnant for all the
tea in China, babe. How do you do it?” he asked, cuddling her close
to his chest.

“I don’t know,” she said, sniffling. “How do
you
do it?”

He laughed softly. “I get to take antacids.
You don’t,” he said, kissing her short, spiky hair. Her, yes, sort
of orange hair. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I can’t wait
until this baby is born. I’m getting pretty sick of being sick to
my stomach.”

“That’s because I do the cooking,” Suzanna
said, and he could tell that she was going to start crying
again.

“Come on,” he said bracingly, taking her hand
and leading her toward the stairs. “I’m moving back in, babe, and
I’m going to behave, promise. But we’ve got to make this a team
effort. Isn’t that what they called it in parenting class? A team
effort?”

“‘Ray, team,” Suzanna grumbled, sniffling.
But she followed him.

He was rounding first, heading to
second....

* * *

Suzanna held Johnny high on her shoulder,
patting his little back so he could bring up a really big burp. The
kid had no shame when it came to burping, that was for sure.

“I can’t believe how much better I’m sleeping
now that Tim’s in bed with me.”

“Maybe you want to rephrase that?” Keely said
as she sat on the couch, a mountain of clean baby clothes beside
her as she folded each piece precisely. “I mean, it isn’t much of a
compliment to the guy, is it?”

Suzanna made a face. “You know what I mean.
Sometimes my back just
aches
by the end of the day, but when
I get into bed, Tim lies down right behind me, supports my back.
And the warmth isn’t so bad either, considering how cold it is
outside. That, and all the cats sleep with us.”

“So he hasn’t tried anything? Bummer.”

Suzanna wiped Johnny’s little mouth after his
burp, then laid him back in the bassinet. “I think he’s being
wonderful. Considerate.”

“Yeah. You get married tomorrow, Suzanna.
Don’t tell lies the day before you get married.”

“All right, so maybe I think he could try to
do more than kiss me good night.”

“Ah, honesty. Now, there’s something that’s
been sadly lacking around here, between the two of you. Oh, that
Joey, he’s
so
smart about these things.”

“Joey?
Our
Joe?”

“Uh-hmm, our Joey. He’s been tutoring Tim.
Didn’t you know that? Not that Tim needs any more help. God knows
we gave him enough to screw everything up royally. This is helping
Joey, and I think Tim’s wonderful to pretend to listen to him.”

“I don’t understand,” Suzanna said, picking
up a small shirt and folding it neatly, adding it to the pile.
“What’s Joey saying to him?”

Keely looked at her for a moment, as if
deciding what to say. “Nothing much, Suzanna, and certainly nothing
Tim didn’t already know. He’s just telling him that you have to
learn to trust each other.”

“And how are we to do that?”

“I’d say, by doing just what you’re doing.
Taking it slow and easy, step by step, day by day. And I think it’s
great that the two of you are going away for a few days. You need
to be alone together.”

“I’m sort of scared about that,” Suzanna
admitted, picking up another shirt. “Dr. Phillips said no flying,
so we’re just driving to Atlantic City, but Tim acts as if we’re
packing for an expedition to the North Pole. I looked into his
suitcase, and he’s got two childbirth books, a list of emergency
phone numbers, and an extra prescription for my prenatal vitamins.
He even bought a new charger for the cell phone, as if Atlantic
City doesn’t have phones. Oh, and my focal point thingamajig. You
know, the baseball trophy Tim won in fourth grade and gave to
me?”

“How organized. And this is the same man who,
just last year, handed me his design for his bedroom, totally
forgetting to put
windows
in it? Amazing.”

“He told me he picked the house plans from a
book Aunt Sadie sent him.”

“Oh, he did, he did. But then he changed
everything. The builder and I had to beat him down a couple of
times, but his ideas are, by and large, pretty terrific. He and
Jack aren’t just jocks, Suzanna. They’re two very smart guys.”

“I know,” Suzanna said, rather shamelessly
swelling with pride.
Opposed to just swelling,
she thought,
which I’m also doing.
“But, if he’s so smart, why doesn’t he
know I want him to sleep with his arm around me instead of back to
back?”

“Maybe he needs you to tell him.”

“I suppose. But we’re taking it slow.”

“He won’t think you’re fat, Suzanna. Trust
me.”

“I know. It’s my hang-up, not his, and I’m
fighting it. Childhood trauma and all of that junk. Maybe I was
frightened by a chocolate cake sometime in my past. Maybe next
week...”

“You’ll be having another sonogram then,
won’t you?”

Suzanna nodded. “Unless Tim and his X-ray
eyes can tell us more. He keeps
staring
at me.”

“You know what I hated?”

“Those stupid stretch panels in your
slacks?”

“No, silly. I hated that everyone thought it
was fine to touch my stomach. I mean, total strangers, or close to
it. They just come up and put their hands on your belly. And Jack
would just stand there, beaming. If anyone tried that when I wasn’t
pregnant, he would have clocked them. But, hey, get pregnant, and
you’re free territory. It’s weird.”

“Tim hasn’t asked to touch my belly yet. He
knows the baby’s moving, but he hasn’t asked.”

“Probably because he’s afraid he’ll throw
up.”

“There is that. Poor Tim,” Suzanna said, and
they both laughed.

* * *

Suzanna looked down at the rings she’d taken
off last night, then had Tim slip back on her finger earlier today,
in front of God and several witnesses.

For the first time, the very first time, she
felt married. Not playing at married. Married.

She walked through the casino hotel suite,
admiring the brass fixtures on the sinks. Boy, were there sinks!
Two in one bathroom, one in the other, and yet another in a serving
bar tucked into the short hallway between the living room and the
bedrooms. There were as many sinks as there were television sets.
In each bedroom, in the living room, even one sort of suspended
from the ceiling in the bathroom, over the whirlpool tub that was
large enough to float a small battleship.

“We don’t need all this room,” she told Tim
as she entered the living room.

Tim stretched out on one of the cushy leather
couches. “Hey, can I help it if the desk clerk is a fan?” He
finished stretching, then stood up. “You ready to go downstairs?
I’m feeling lucky.”

“Speaking of Lucky,” Suzanna said, and
watched Tim’s smile fade. “You already cancelled twice, you know.
You are keeping his appointment next week, aren’t you?”