"Johann, sometimes I can't make up my mind whether you are a silly young girl—or senile."
"The last time you called me ‘Johann' you acquired some scar tissue. Dear, has it occurred to you that I might be both? A senile silly young girl?"
"Interesting. A possible working hypothesis."
"If so, I'm a well-adjusted one—Jake, I'm as happy as a cat left alone with the Christmas turkey. With Joe squared away and the Supreme Court being sensible for a change my last fret is gone. Life is one long giddy delight. I'm not even morning sick."
"Can't see why you should be—huh?" (Boss, I thought you weren't going to tell him?) (Eunice, he was bound to know soon... and I couldn't just let him find out, can't do that to Jake. This is the perfect time—he's officially ‘first to know.')
"I said I wasn't bothered by morning sickness, Jake. I'm healthy as a horse and the only change I've noticed is that I'm hungry as a horse, too."
"You wish me to believe that you are pregnant?"
"Don't give me that stern-father look, Jake. I'm knocked up and happier than Happy Hooligan. I could have kept it to myself a while longer but I wanted to tell you before anyone else could notice. But be a dear and treat it as privileged—because the instant Winnie finds out she'll start mothering me and worrying. Which is not what a bride should be doing. With luck I can keep it from Winnie until she's pregnant, too." (Boss, what makes you think Winnie intends to get pregnant'?) (Use your head, Eunice—five to one she's got a Band-aid over the spot where that implant used to be this very minute.) (I don't have a head, Boss—just yours and it doesn't work too well.) (Complaints, huh? Talk that way and I won't marry you, either.) (We are married, Boss.) (I know it, beloved. Now be quiet; I've got to juggle eggs.)
"Eunice—are you sure?"
"Yes. Test positive."
"Did Bob make the test? Or some quack?"
"A patient's relations with a doctor are confo. But it was not a quack. Don't pursue this line of inquiry, Counselor."
"We'll get married at once."
"The hell we will!"
"Eunice, let's have no nonsense!"
"Sir, I asked you to marry me quite some time back. You emphatically refused. I asked you at a later time. Again I was turned down. I decided not to renew my request, and I do not do so now. I will not marry you. But I will be honored and delighted to continue as your mistress until I am benched by biology—and more than pleased to be allowed again to be your concubine when I am back in commission. I love you, sir. But I will not marry you."
"I ought to spank you."
"I don't think it would do me any damage, darling. But I don't think you could bring yourself to strike a pregnant woman." (Now kick him in the other shin, Boss. You little hellcat.) (Eunice, stay out of this row. I'm not only a woman scorned; I'm also old Johann Smith who never could be pushed too far. Jake can have us any time, sure. But I'm damned if I'll let him be ‘noble' about it when I'm knocked up.) (Boss, aren't we ever going to marry him? This is a mistake, dear; he needs us.) (And we need him, Eunice. Sure, we'll marry him—after we've whelped. After.) (Boss, you're making a big mistake.) (If so, I'm making it. I never make little mistakes—just big ones.)
"I didn't say I was going to spank you, Eunice—I said I ‘ought' to. What happened? I distinctly remember you telling me that you had taken care of contraception."
"Your memory is good, sir. The exact phrasing, as I phrased it most carefully. I have ‘taken care' of such matters in whatever fashion I wished. Every time. With you. With others. Each time I have taken such care as suited me—at that time and with that man."
"Hmmm! That's as unresponsive an answer as I've ever heard. Let me put it more plainly. Eunice, did I get you pregnant?"
"I won't answer. You know that at least one other man has slept with me—and I may have been the bride of the regiment. Jake, you would not marry me when I was a virgin; you still would not marry me when you made me your mistress. So where I got this child in me is not your business and you have no right to quiz me and—much as I love you!—I will not tolerate one more question along this line. Not now nor in the future! Whom I chose to father my child is my business. But you may be certain that I selected him with care, eyes open and wits about me. You've been acting as if you were a father dealing with a wayward daughter, or a Welfare Visitor trying to establish responsibility for an unlicensed pregnancy. You know that is not the situation. I am ninety-five years old—much older than you are—able to afford a dozen bastards if it suits me—and it may—and wealthy enough to tell the world to go pee up a rope. Jake, I was sharing happy news with you. You elect to treat it as bad news and take me to task about it. I won't accept that, sir. I made a mistake in telling you. Will you please treat the matter as privileged—and never mention it again?"
"Eunice."
"Yes, Jake?"
"I love you."
"I love you, Jake."
"Had I been twenty years younger—even ten years!—I would have married you long before now. Since you won't tell me—and since I have no right to quiz you; you are correct—will you forgive an old man's pride if I choose to believe that 1 am the man you picked? I promise that I will not discuss that belief with anyone."
"Jacob, if you choose to believe that, I am honored. But I ask no promises. If you chose to proclaim such a belief, I would never shame my oldest and closest and most beloved friend by denying it. I would smile proudly and let my manner confirm it. But, Jacob my beloved, to you I neither affirm nor deny it—and never will. I did this on my own. I alone am parent to this child." (Watch your words, Boss! You almost spelled it out.) (He'll take it as rhetoric. Or if he does suspect, investigation will prove that he's wrong. Hank Olsen knows which side of his bed is buttered. Mine, that is.) (And the dates are going to check out so that Jake will be certain it's his. Hmm—) (Still think I'm a fool, Eunice?) (No, Boss—just reckless. You scare the hell out of me at times.)
"Well, Eunice, from the restrictions you have put on me that seems to be all we can say about it."
"That was my intention, Jake."
"I understood. What would you like to do the rest of today—at least until our newlyweds return? Play cribbage?"
"If you wish, Jake, certainly."
"I have a better idea, if you want to join me in it. Could be fun, I think."
"Will be fun, lake. Anything is always fun shared with you. Even if it's just cribbage."
"This is a better two-handed game if it's played right. Let's phone Mac, ask him to have his clerk start the ball rolling—and get married. With luck we can be legal by twenty-one or -two—and still get in a couple of boards of cribbage before bedtime."
"Oh, Jake! ‘Cribbage'!"
"Answer me, woman. A simple ‘Yes' or ‘No'. I won't argue it... and I won't ask you again. And blow your nose and wipe your eyes—you're a mess."
"Damn you, Jake! Yes! Let me go and I'll blow my nose.
I think you've cracked my ribs, you big brute. That's a hell of a way to treat an expectant mother."
"I'll do worse than crack your ribs if I have any more nonsense out of you. Now to call Mac—I'll have to think up a plausible lie so that he'll be justified in authorizing the County Clerk to issue a special license."
"Why does it have to be fancy, Jacob? I thought you were going to tell Mac that you had knocked me up?"
"Eunice, is that what you want me to say?"