Scrambled Babies (44 page)

“What did I tell you!” Steedly hissed.  Then he folded his arms in triumph and stood looking at her and Steve disdainfully.

What sounded like snarling rose from the wolf pack.

Impossible!  This is crazy!  Something is wrong!
  Paeton regained her balance.  Then she turned to Royale and the frenzied wolves.  With all the certainty of a loving mom, she cried, “That’s not possible!  Ryan has darker eyes than Kelsey.  Kelsey’s neck is longer and narrower.  Kelsey has—”

Paeton was cut off by a sudden guffawing from the crowd.  She saw fingers pointing behind her.  Paeton turned to see a two-foot stream of pale yellow liquid shooting into the air from the baby Wanda had announced as a girl.

Royale pranced naughtily over to Paeton and Steve. “Only joking, guys! You know how we reality TV hosts are! Have to have our little fun!” She patted each on the shoulder.  “Sorry, Paeton.  Sorry, Steve.”  Spurts of tittering and clapping were coming from the audience.  Royale approached Black, whose once confidently folded arms now hung like old sticks of celery.  “Sorry, you lose, Steedly.  But you’re such a good sport, I know you want to congratulate these two loving parents who really know their own children.”

Steedly couldn’t speak.

Royale left him and trotted back to Paeton and Steve.  “We knew how much Paeton and Steve loved and knew their own children.  We just played a little joke on them to show the world how well they really do know them.” 

She turned to Paeton.  “Paeton, Steve, I had all the confidence in the world that you knew your children.  I told Wanda to fib a little so the TV audience could see how neither of you could ever mistake another child for yours.”

Paeton felt her legs go wobbly again.   “A little fib?  What were you trying to do, give us cardiac arrest?”  She managed a feeble laugh.

Steve was wearing a goofy smile. He put his arm around Paeton’s waist.  “Whew!  Not funny, Royale!  Not funny, but hilarious, really!  I think I need an EKG after that one.”  Then he started laughing uncontrollably as he escorted himself and Paeton to a chair.

Bedlam reigned in the audience once more.  Reporters flooded into the studio.  Camera flashes popped like fireworks.  The waiting was over.  Paeton was free from
this
plague, at least, forever.  But what about the plague of Steve Kaselman?

Black, whey-faced and grimacing, gave them each a weak handshake, said something about having to cover a breaking story, and fled.

Royale called out a “Sorry, Black” to his coattails.

After the crowd had quieted down, Royale spoke to Esther.  “Esther, are you convinced now that Paeton should remain in the National Single Mom of the Year competition?”

Esther, busy fussing with another pocket for something for her baby, offered, “She’s got my vote!”

The woman from SMACK went over to Paeton, gave her a big hug, and told the camera, “We’re going to endorse you, Paeton.  You are a model single mom.”

Paeton felt one huge cloud had been lifted from her life.  Blessed relief spread through her.  She hugged April back and was about to respond when Steve stood up and interrupted her. 

“Wait a minute, please.”  He looked down at Paeton and offered his hand to have Paeton stand up with him.  She obliged.

“The only problem, Royale, is I am here to tell you Paeton has to be disqualified from the National Single Mom of the Year competition.”

The entire audience “oo-ed” in amazement. 

Paeton gawked at Steve in disbelief.  “What are you talking about?  It’s over!  I’m cleared!  How can I be disqualified?”

Royale’s face was twisted in puzzlement.  “Steve, you better explain yourself—and quickly—if there is something else we, the American people, should know about this lady that we don’t.”

Steve turned to Paeton and reached out with his eyes.  He knelt on one knee, his eyes never leaving hers.  “Paeton McPhilomy, the reason you are disqualified for National Single Mom of the Year is because you won’t be single for very much longer.  I am taking you out of the single world.  Paeton McPhilomy, will you marry me?  Will you marry this hopelessly-in-love-with-you jock?”

The crowd released its collectively held breath.  Then the cheering swelled to a thunderous roar.  The noise was so loud that no one but Steve could hear Paeton say, “Well, I was seriously considering shacking up with you, but yes, I will marry you.”

Steve stood up and removed a small box from his pocket.  He took out a ring and put it on Paeton’s finger.

All this time, their eyes remained riveted to each other’s.

Together, they made their way, eyes locked, to the two tables and picked up their respective child.  Planets and shooting stars enveloped them! 

Each holding the handle of a travelseat, they walked up the stairs offstage, leaving the wolf pack and Royale behind.  Their eyes remained riveted.  Had they looked down, they would have discovered—they had scrambled the babies again!

Only this time—who cared!

Epilogue

Paeton and Steve sat in the L.A. airport.  She was seeing him off for a game in Chicago.  She couldn’t believe how everything had turned out for the best.  The Alice house proved ideal for their newly combined family.  Pony Aloni had attended one of the sports-colleague bridal showers for Paeton, and they struck up a great friendship.  Pony confessed her crush on Steve as well as her crush on Paeton’s novels.  Madison in turn was infatuated with Pony, and Pony had promised her a visit to the announcer’s booth when Pony worked her way up to baseball jobs.  Paeton also noticed Pony and Fred spending entirely too much time together at the wedding reception.

They kept Rosa as the nanny for all the children.  Greta went back to physical therapy.  About a month later Greta brought her new friend over to dinner—a single dad, weekend-warrior type, who had pulled his back playing touch football.

Roused from her thoughts, Paeton caught Steve eyeing their respective infants, now stepbrother and stepsister, sleeping soundly in their Bloomingdale’s travelseats.

“Penny for your thoughts.”  Paeton took Steve’s hand.  It was the one with the shiny new wedding band on it.

“Huh?”  Steve gave her hand a squeeze.  “Oh, I’m looking at the best-looking identical non-twins in the country.  And thinking about how great the rest of my life will be.  And that I’ll never get Ryan confused with some other kid again.” 

Paeton laughed warmly.  This was what a marriage should be.  Never not kissing good night even if it was over the phone.  Their last words to each other were always “I love you” before turning out the light.  No matter where the other was.

She looked forward to the rest of her life doing what she loved—taking care of her family and creating new fictional worlds. 

And rocketing to new planets!
  She blushed at those thoughts.  Their relationship was far more than mere sex, but that part certainly was enviable.

Steve started to get up.  “Listen, I’m going to get some gum for the plane.  Be right back.”

Paeton continued to muse about her wonderful new life.  Madison was studiously playing her video game.  Suddenly, there was a commotion in the terminal.  Paeton looked around to determine the cause.

Hurrying down the aisle about thirty yards from Paeton was Steve followed by a yelling woman.  Steve was carrying a Zoo Kingdom travelseat and wore a strained expression.  Now the woman was running.  She was yelling something like “You’ve got my baby!”

Steve looked back over his shoulder as the woman gained on him.  He reached Paeton.  “She had one of our kids over there.  How the hell did that happen?” 

A terrible chill went through Paeton as that world-famous mix-up blazed through her memory.  Then she realized what Steve had done and started to laugh.

“What are you laughing at?  This isn’t funny!”

Paeton stood and quietly took the travelseat from Steve.  She held it out so the woman could take it.  “We’re terribly sorry.  It’s a mistake.  See, the travelseats are the same.  My husband thought you had our baby.”

“You mean it’s not one of ours?” Steve sputtered, his face flushed from running.

The woman stalked away muttering, “Of all the nerve.”

Paeton peered around the terminal.  She started laughing again.  “Look.”  She pointed to three or four other travelseats.  It seemed everywhere they looked was the famous—or infamous, as it were—travelseat from Bloomingdale’s. 

Steve chuckled as he sat down.  “Hell—uh, heck, Bloomingdale’s should pay us a commission for all the seats they sold because of us.”  He cocked his head, looking directly at Paeton with a quirky smile.  “You know, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“And that is?”  She took his hand again and squeezed it lovingly.

“The thing that blew my mind about us was that purple magic-marker heart at JFK.  When I first saw it, it had the letters ‘P + S’ in it.  Then the day after I thought you had gone to London, I was in JFK—I had to go to New York after my Boston gig—and I went to see if the graffiti removers had gotten to that heart yet.  I was missing you already.  And there it was—‘Paeton + Steve!’  And really fancy at that.  I didn’t know you were an artist too.  Why did you do that?”

Paeton’s mouth fell open.  “I didn’t do that.  I thought you and one of your buddies did that.  I was never going to see you again until I saw our names in that heart.  It was unreal.  But that’s what made me come back to L.A.  I had to face you and get you either into my life or out of my life forever.  Seeing that heart and our names made me realize I couldn’t run away from what I felt for you.”