Chapter 6

Friday night and early Saturday morning were everything Susan had hoped they would be. Even the fact that Dan had pitched two innings in the game Friday night worked to their advantage. He would be unlikely to be called upon to pitch again Saturday. They could deplete his precious bodily fluids without much fear of immediate consequences.

After a slower but more varied round of lovemaking in the wee hours, they slept until almost dawn before commencing a sweaty, athletic round three. They then slept again until ten a.m.

"I've gotta get it together and go back to Arlie's," Susan said when she emerged from the shower (after turning down an invitation from Dan to shower together).

"He said two o'clock would be okay," Dan said.

"Yes, but he might have something to attend to besides leaving for the ballpark later," Susan said. "Let's don't make him wait too long for my return to duty."

"What do you tell the kids?" Dan asked.

"That I spent the night at a friend's house," she said. "That's more-or-less true, isn't it?"

"They're gonna figure something's going on pretty quick," Dan said.

"They've mostly been asleep by the time you come over after the games."

"Yeah. But kids. They're smart."

"Well, when they figure it out, I'll tell them the whole story," she said.

"Even that part where we were sixty-nining and I had my tongue in your pucker?"

"I'll probably hold back a few of the details," she said.

They discussed her plans for an overnight trip to New York. Dan consulted the schedule and suggested a revision. "April 30, we close the home stand with an afternoon game. That's a Wednesday. But there's an open date May 1 -— Thursday —- before we start a series in Toronto Friday night."

"When do you fly to Toronto?" she asked.

"Not until pretty late Thursday evening."

"So I could fly up or take Amtrak late Wednesday after Arlie gets home, and then get back Thursday after seeing Riordan."

"And screw up one of the amazingly few home open dates we get all year?" Dan said. "I've got a much, much better idea. Wednesday afternoon after the game, you and I both drive to New York and get a room in a hotel close to the publisher. Then you interview with this editor on Thursday and then drive my car back to Baltimore while I grab a flight to Toronto."

"All that just for a late Wednesday night roll in the hay with me?" Susan said.

"It would be a blast!" Dan said. "The ride would give us the longest stretch of time together we've ever had."

"When we weren't fucking or sleeping, you mean," she said.

"Please!" Dan complained. "We only fucked that one time. For, maybe, thirty seconds, tops. Since then, we've always made love."

"The lovemaking was pretty nice," Susan said. "But that first time, just fucking. Wow! Now, that was memorable."

"We were both just hungry is all," Dan said.

"Maybe," Susan said. "But I had already told you about my professor friend in Coral Gables. I mean, for me, it had only been —- what? —- five weeks of celibacy."

"A little longer for me," Dan said.

"Not since your divorce?"

That one brought a burst of laughter from Dan. "Oh, hell no!" he said. "I just meant I didn't get any action in Florida, or for a little while before that."

"Okay, we'll save the sex-with-other-people stories for pillow talk on nights when the Old Man can't get it up," Susan said. "Would you really want to drive up to New York with me?"

"Absolutely. It's only a little over three hours. If the game ends by 4:30, even, we can be in Manhattan in time for a fashionably late dinner."

"Do you need permission to get to Toronto on your own, instead of with the club?"

"Yes, but I can get it. You need to discuss this with Arlie and make certain he's okay with keeping the kids Wednesday night and all day Thursday. And you've got to get back early enough that Arlie can make a later flight to Toronto."

"I'll ask him today. You've got me excited now. This will be fun! But I'll have to check with Gwen Riordan, too."

"Make your meeting with her for the early afternoon if you can," Dan said. "You're going to wake up with dark circles under your eyes that morning."

As Susan had expected, Arlie had no problems with her proposed overnighter to Manhattan. He recommended a hotel in New York and, when Susan checked its location, she was satisfied it was close enough to her prospective publisher to make it an easy taxi run.

Arlie tended to spend as much time with his children on open dates during the season as possible. Susan's absence, he assured her, wouldn't inconvenience him in the least.

"Getting kind of hot and heavy between you two, huh?" he ventured, after the details of her trip were settled.

"We get along awfully well," Susan said.

"Well, if it helps any, I can tell you I've known Dan for about nine years, all-told, and I've known him really well for the years he's been with the Orioles. He's a solid citizen. He's not going to jerk you around, Susan. I'm real pleased that you like him."

"You weren't a little shocked that I 'liked' him so promptly after we first met?" she said.

"Hey, I'm not that old!" Arlie said. "I can still remember getting into a fever once in a while." He got serious then. "You two remind me of how it was with me 'n Sylvia, early days. That wasn't so awfully long ago, you know. We met when I was just breaking into the majors. She wasn't as much younger than me as you are -- as you are younger than Dan, I mean. But I had a couple years on her. We were together for a little over a year before we got married, and another two years before Christy came along."

"So it was ... about fifteen years ago? When you met Sylvia?"

"Just about that, yeah. And, y'know, if I'd known we'd only have that teeny bit of time together, I'd have done just what you and Dan have done: I'd have got started, quick as possible!"

"Well, you make it sound like a noble effort of grabbing what life gives you," Susan said, grinning. "I'm afraid in our case it was more like just being in a big hurry to get laid."

"If that was all it was, the two of you wouldn't be looking forward to driving together to New York, just so you could have one night together."

"I don't know, Arlie. I'd go a long way for good sex."

"Your smart mouth's not kidding anybody, little Suzy. I think you've been bit by the Love Bug."

"Way too early for that kind of conclusion," she said.

"Check back with me later," Arlie said. "Tell me when you decide that I was right all along."

The trip was every bit as much fun as Susan had anticipated, and the romantic night in their Manhattan hotel room was memorable, both for the unusually well-appointed suite Dan had arranged and for the pleasures of lovemaking in a glamorous new venue.

Susan's meeting the next afternoon with Gwen Riordan was also successful and encouraging. Riordan turned out to be a youngish, self-assured professional who confidently told Susan that she regarded Susan's novel as definitely publishable and probably highly marketable.

"I have a few suggestions about style," Riordan told her, "but the story's substance is strong and evident. Readers are going to hang on every word! This promises to be a very successful first novel, and I say that with some considerable confidence."

"That ought to be reassuring as hell," Susan said, "but you're actually scaring me! I only sent you six chapters and an outline. Now I feel some pressure not to screw it up."

"The outline convinces me that you've got a whole novel in your head and not just the opening chapters," Riordan told her. "Just go home and relax and write it! Here. This is our standard contract form. Read it carefully. Take it to a lawyer, or to your agent, or both. When you're ready, we can make any changes the company can agree to and sign it. At that point, I could even arrange a small advance if you need it."

"I don't really need it," Susan said. "I've got a wonderful support system in place now. I even got a ride up here and a very nice room last night, with my ... ahh ... new guy."

"Not this Arlie fellow that you work for?" Gwen Riordan said.

Susan laughed. "No. Arlie's a big part of the support system, all right, but he's not my new squeeze. That's one of his pitchers, Dan Preston."

"Whoa!" Riordan said with unexpected emphasis. "Dan Preston!"

Susan was a little taken aback. "You know Dan?"

"Not personally, no," Riordan said, "but that s.o.b. messed up the Mets' pennant drive a few years back, practically single-handed! He was for Atlanta in a late-season game we really, really needed. The Mets, I mean. The Mets had come down hard on Atlanta's starter in the early going, and the Braves brought Preston in with only one out in the third and the bases loaded with Mets!

"The bastard shut us down without any more runs and then he hung around until the eighth inning, and we didn't even get a smell! Meanwhile, the Braves crept back into the game and eventually won it. They won the damned Division, too!"

"Gosh," Susan said. "I didn't realize you were such a fan!"

"You think they let me edit Streak Taylor's autobiography just because I had a perky butt?" she said. "I know baseball."

"I believe you. Anyway, yes, Dan Preston is my guy now. He's not a long reliever, though. Pitches set-up relief for the Birds."

"He's still got it," Riordan said. "I keep up with all the guys who've screwed up the Mets, over the years."

"Well, he still had it, last time I checked," Susan said with an evil grin. "And that was only a couple of hours ago!"

Driving back to Baltimore alone wasn't nearly as much fun as the trip up had been, but Susan was buoyant about her meeting with the editor and pleased to have had the confidence-building assurance that her book was on the right track. She also had an alarmingly marked-up editorial copy of her previously submitted chapters, full of purple scribbles in all the margins.

Gwen Riordan had assured her that the edits weren't as oppressive as they might look, and that going over them —- all six chapters —- would teach Susan a lot about Riordan's editorial style. "You don't need to accept every suggested change," Susan had been told. "Just try to absorb why the change was recommended, and then apply that knowledge to the next formulation that raises a similar situation."

It would take time at home and rapt attention to learn from Riordan's markup, but Susan was determined to be a diligent pupil. She'd read Zeke Taylor's book and had considered it one of the cleanest, best-edited books between hard covers she'd ever read. She would listen to Gwen Riordan, and she would defer to her judgment as frequently as possible.

After their memorable night in Manhattan, Susan and Dan had enjoyed an early lunch together and then had parted ways before Susan's meeting. There was ample time for Dan to fly to Toronto. He would actually arrive there well ahead of the rest of the club. But they both knew that Susan would need to begin the drive back to Baltimore promptly after her interview, so there was no real reason for them to meet afterward. The results of her meeting with Riordan could be shared by telephone.

Susan figured Dan would be pleased to have available the Friday pre-game hours in which to explore the sights of the beautiful Canadian city.

Stopping for an afternoon snack north of Baltimore, she telephoned Dan to tell him the good news about her meeting with the editor. She could tell he was immensely pleased.

Susan was pleased, too. Pleased that she had someone so close to her to call and share the great good news. When she got back to Arlie's and took over responsibility for the children from him, she vowed that she'd call her mother as well. Susan's mother had always encouraged her ambitions as a writer, although Susan sometimes detected a measure of doubt in her mother's eyes about whether Susan's hopes of someday supporting herself as an author might turn out to be a bridge too far.