Home Run
Page 18
“Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I knew you didn’t know. That trollop in Puerto Vallarta had to be the low point.”
“Yeah, she was. Maybe that’s when I figured it out.” “Figured what out?”
“That I love you,” I said, kissing her—a little kiss.
“You do?”
“I love that you can use the word trollop in a sentence, when I have to guess what it means. I love that you’re so smart, and so beautiful, and so patient…and so ticklish.”
“Stop, I’ll spill my coffee.”
“I’ll stop if we could do something else,” I said.
“Again?” she asked.
“If you’d be so kind.”
For a man who, just a few months previously, had been suffering from erectile dysfunction, I must say that I impressed myself. I just needed the right woman for everything to work exactly as it should. Ah, the relief.
Later that morning, I called my parents to say that I’d be staying with a friend for the weekend. They didn’t bother to ask questions. They were so hung up on having a mid-life baby that I’d been deleted from their desktop.
Maggie, of course, loved the irony of my mom’s pregnancy, especially after all the “be careful” lectures from my father. It became one of our shared giggles.
A little later, Scrooge called and Maggie handed me the phone.
“Hey, Al, my man,” Scrooge began, as he does.
“How’d you know I’d be here at Maggie’s?”
“Never underestimate my genius,” Scrooge told me. “All the rest of us could see it coming, we just wondered what took you so long.”
I was beginning to wonder that myself.
“Anyhow,” he went on, “I just called to tell you that you got the runner-up prize, or maybe I should say that we got the runner-up prize. Drank it all last night, since you two had other plans.”
“Yeah, great.”
“I’m thinking of writing some poetry myself,” Scrooge said. “Seems to have a kind of sex appeal for a certain kind of woman, you know, the brainy ones.”
“Seems funny that you’d be learning moves from me,” I said.
“As the great Bart Simpson once said, you’re never too old to learn. You two have a good time today, you probably deserve it. Took you long enough.”
Maggie asked me about lunch, and for a minute I thought she might actually make something for us. In fact, she was waiting for me to put together a couple of sandwiches; Maggie’s culinary skills were limited to coffee and croissants.
I opened a bottle of wine, too, just to celebrate our first twelve hours as lovers. By the time we’d finished it, we’d been lovers for fourteen hours and I was a bit giddy from the wine.
“Do you think Kirk would marry us?” I asked her.
“I think Kirk should get ordained first,” Maggie said. “And maybe we should both graduate, and then maybe you should ask me nicely.”
“I thought I just did,” I said.
“No, you have to get down on your knees and have the ring in your hands. Then there’s got to be some gushy prologue, and wild protestations of love, and the famous words ‘Will you marry me?’”
“You’re still giving me advice, Maggie,” I sighed.
She smiled and kissed me. “Hey, keep it up and I might keep giving you advice for a long, long time.”
Acknowledgements
THE AUTHOR GIVES HIS THANKS to many people who helped in this second Alan novel: to my friend, the distinguished poet David Helwig, who pinch-wrote two poems for Alan in Chapter 25 and then let me meddle with them; to my assistant, Kenda Berg, who reported on her Cancun holiday to help with the Puerto Vallarta section; to my editor at Doubleday, Amy Black, who gave me lots of leeway but managed to keep this book within the young-adult genre; and to my wife and muse, Lori Jamison, who reads every word several times over with loving attention.
About the Author
PAUL KROPP is the author of more than fifty novels for young people. His work includes seven award-winning young adult novels, many books for reluctant readers, and four illustrated books for beginning readers. He also writes non-fiction books and articles for parents, and is a popular speaker on issues related to reading and education.