A Truly Harmonic Convergence
By Wayne Scheer

"Sam," Martha shouted from the bathroom. "It turned pink! I'm pregnant!"

"What?" Sam was slouched in an overstuffed chair watching the end of the Yankee game. Actually he was asleep, but he still sensed that the Yankees had a man on second in the bottom of the ninth and were behind by one run. Opening one eye, he immediately recognized the knees-bent stance of Bernie Williams. "Let's go, Bernie," he said. "A single ties the score."

"Did you hear me?"

"Sure, sure," Sam muttered as he watched Williams take a strike over the outside of the plate.

Martha came out of the bathroom, a big smile on her face. She had taken off the old, stained nightgown she had been wearing and stood, totally naked, in front of the television. "Are you ready to celebrate?"

"Just as soon as the Yankees score." Sam motioned for her to move out of his way.

Instead of stepping aside, she placed her hands in back of her head and thrust her pelvis in his direction. Then she turned and shook her behind at him.

"Nice ass," Sam said. And it was, he thought. There was a round fullness to it that excited him. He loved grabbing it as she climbed on top of him. He smiled at his new wife. "Hey, Bernie's up. You're making me lose concentration."

"Bernie? Oh, is that what you're calling it now?"

"Yeah, good name. I'll introduce you to him just as soon as... Damn!" Bernie swung and missed. He had two strikes on him.

"You're striking out with me, Mister." Martha didn't know whether to laugh or pout. She knew Sam's baseball obsession when they married. She recalled the first time she met his family. As soon as dinner ended, Sam and his father picked up as many dishes as they could carry from the table and brought them to the sink. Then they excused themselves while she helped his mother clean up.

Martha worried that Sam's father was warning his son to steer clear of her. "Did you see the way she nibbled at her food?" she imagined Sam's father saying. "That can only mean one thing. She has an eating disorder."

Meanwhile, Martha and Sam's mom small talked about everything from Sam's new job with the Department of Family and Children's Services to the bakery on Sutter Avenue that was going out of business.

As Sam's mother took out the family photo album Martha couldn't stand it any longer. She asked, "What do you think the men are talking about?"

"Talking?" Sam's mother looked at her as if this were her first time on the planet. "They don't talk. They're watching the baseball game."

"Baseball. And he left me..."

"To talk to me. You'll learn. Look," she took Martha's hand. "They're good men. My Larry has been a loyal, loving husband for over thirty years. His one vice is baseball and he passed it on to his son. In the large scheme of things, that's not so bad."

Later that night, as Sam drove Martha home, she said, "I like your mother, but leaving me to talk with her while you and your father watched the game wasn't cool."

"I'm sorry," Sam said with a look of innocent shock on his face. "But tonight was the all-star game. I thought you knew."

Meanwhile, Williams had stretched the count to three balls and two strikes. Sam grew more excited with each pitch while Martha grew more frustrated. She tried sitting on his lap, but he stared straight ahead at the screen even when she rubbed her breasts in his face.

"Mmm," he said as he pulled away to look over the top of her shoulder. Bernie fouled off the pitch.

She opened his fly and was happy to see that he wasn't totally ignoring her.

"Yes," he shouted. That's it!" Bernie sent a soft liner to right field that dropped in for a base hit. Soriano, on second, took off with the crack of the bat and rounded third without hesitating. The outfielder came up with the ball cleanly and threw it home. It was going to be a close play.

"I'm pregnant," Martha shouted, just before she took him into her mouth. "I'm pregnant, dammit!"

Sam's eyes bulged, his heart pounded. He didn't know whether to watch the play at the plate, respond to Martha's statement, or close his eyes and enjoy the moment.

"Pregnant?" he finally shouted. "You're pregnant?"

She looked up at him as he took her face in his hands and gently lifted her so they could kiss.

"Oh, baby. I love you so much," he told her.

"And I just discovered the meaning of serendipity -- a fortunate discovery. You love me more than baseball and sex."

"And I know just what we'll name the baby," Sam said.

Martha had already culled Serena from serendipity and was struggling with a boy's name.

"Alfonso," he said. "Look. Alfonso Soriano just scored the tying run."

"Bernie, maybe," she said. "Not Alfonso."

"Bernie's real name is Bernabe, you know."

"Bernabe William Epps. I like it."

Although the score was now tied, Sam turned off the television and carried his naked, pregnant wife to bed where they made love tenderly and lovingly. Afterwards, as she cuddled in his arms and talked about how a baby was going to change their life, Sam kissed her and said, "Don't hate me, but I have to check the game." He grabbed the remote on the night table next to his side of the bed. With the volume as low as possible, he discovered that Bernie Williams had just hit a solo homer in the bottom of the thirteenth for the Yankee victory.

"Bernabe is a good name," he said. "And if it's a girl, how about Bernice?"

"I have my own ideas if it's a girl. But for now, turn off the TV, Mister. I've made another serendipitous discovery. Baseball and babies turn me on."

Sam couldn't imagine being happier.