by Harley Stone
“Fuck! For real?” Before I could respond, she marched past me and checked for herself. “Holy shit, girl, all three are positive.”
“I’m aware.”
“Like really positive. It hasn’t even been three minutes yet.”
“Yeah, thanks for the info. You’re super helpful.”
“Didn’t he wrap it up?”
I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to have this conversation. “Yes. I’m not an idiot. There were condoms.” I specifically remembered using a condom in the closet, but when we went back to Eagle’s room…
“Why’s your face doing that?” she asked.
“Doing what?” I gave her my best innocent smile.
“He didn’t use a condom, did he?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” I winced. God, I was awful at lying. I don’t even know why I tried. “At least the first couple of times.”
“The first couple of times? What are you, rabbits? How many times did you go at it?”
“Uh… Four? Maybe five? There was a lot of whiskey involved and the details are a little fuzzy.”
“You told me you weren’t going to drink.”
“And you believed that?” I scoffed.
“No.” She crossed her arms. “Not even for a second. When’s the last time you had your period?”
Now we were getting into dangerous territory. The kind of territory peppered with landmines. One wrong step and Monica would blow. “Uh… You know I’m not always regular.”
“Yes, which is exactly why I told you to go on birth control.”
“It makes me sick. And I don’t like putting foreign crap into my body.”
“Well, now you have a baby growing in your body, and that sounds pretty foreign to me. And don’t think I’m letting you change the subject. How long?”
“I’ve missed the past two.”
She rubbed her temples. “If I hadn’t made your ass go running with me, would you have even told me?”
“Eventually.”
“Like when? When you started showing? When you were giving birth? How can you be so courageous in the field, and such a chicken-shit when it comes to dealing with this?”
I wanted to defend myself, but she was right on the money. I’d been hoping that if I just held off long enough, Aunt Flo would come to visit. But now I knew that wasn’t a possibility. I was pregnant. With Eagle’s baby.
“Are you okay?” Monica asked. “You’re turning kind of green.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick again.”
She made a sweeping gesture at the toilet. I bolted straight for it and emptied my stomach. When I finished, I brushed my teeth and leaned against the open bathroom door.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I figured I could push it off a little longer. Get my shit in order before I broke the news and disappointed everyone.”
“I’m not disappointed,” she replied, frowning. “Irritated that you didn’t come to me the moment you suspected this insanity, but not disappointed. We both know it could just as easily be me taking those tests. My cousin, Channel, got pregnant while on birth control and using a condom. At least that’s what she told everyone. She’s kind of a ho, so I don’t know that I believe her. But back to you. What are you going to do?”
That was the million-dollar question. “I don’t know.” Turning my back on the life-altering pee-sticks, I headed into the living room, where I paced in front of the coffee table, thinking. What was I going to do? There were options like abortion and adoption, but I couldn’t in good conscience take advantage of them. That’s not how I rolled. I’d always felt like fate or God or some other higher power had a hand in the way shit went down, and that nothing happened without reason. Life had dealt me this card for a reason, and I wasn’t about to fold or exchange it. I’d play the hand until I ran out of chips.
Besides, I’d suspected it for so long I’d had time to bond with the life growing in my womb. I’d never thought about having a kid, but over the past month, while I was too freaked out to take a test and find out for sure, I’d grown accustomed to the idea. Hell, I’d even downloaded pregnancy books onto my Kindle. I almost felt relieved to find out I was pregnant, because if not, I’d been bonding with myself all this time, and that was like one step beyond cat-lady crazy.
I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I settled my hand protectively over my abdomen and voiced the one thing I was sure of. “I’m not getting rid of it.”
Monica nodded, her expression unsurprised.
My commission paperwork was still on my coffee table. I glanced down at it, and Monica followed my gaze.
“You’re halfway to retirement,” she reminded me. I’d served for ten years. Sometimes it felt like weeks. Some days it felt like centuries. “There’s a lot of support available for pregnant women nowadays. We’ll look it all up. Research. Figure out which programs you need to take advantage of. And you know I’ll help you any way I can. I mean, Auntie Monica is clearly going to have to spoil the shit out of this kid.”
Monica would be great. My team might be a little judgmental at first, but they’d get over it. There was a lot of support and several programs I could take advantage of. I picked up the commission paperwork and glanced over it, my stomach twisting in knots. I’d wanted to be a pilot for as long as I could remember, and I’d worked my ass off to get this job. Ten years was a long time.
Ten more seemed like forever.
“My mom left when I was five,” I said.
Monica watched me, her expression concerned and interested. She knew I’d grown up without my mom, but I’d never shared the details. Nobody needed to hear my sob story, and it wasn’t like I’d had a bad childhood or anything. But now, I needed her support and understanding, so I had to tell her.
“My uncle was in the Army and his unit got hit. They never found his body, and my dad thinks he was taken prisoner. It really messed with Dad’s head. He felt guilty and he used to have these nightmares…” I shook my head, not wanting to get into all that. “He had issues when he got out of the service. Mom couldn’t hang, so she left. I remember being confused about it. Dad told me that neither Uncle Wade nor Mom was ever coming home again, but they weren’t together. Link and I were kind of a handful when we were kids, so we thought we did something to drive them off. A part of me always believed they’d come back if I was good enough or if I accomplished enough. Like if I made them proud, they couldn’t possibly stay away.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes. I hadn’t cried about my mom or uncle in as long as I could remember, but pregnancy hormones were a bitch. Blinking rapidly, I kept my attention on the commission paperwork and tried not to see Monica’s softened expression in my peripheral.
“Oh honey—”
“Stop.” I cut her off. “You know I don’t want that pity bullshit. I only told you what happened because I need you to understand why I can’t stay.” Looking up from the paperwork, I finally met her gaze. “I thought I was going to die in that last op, Mon. I legitimately believed it was over. We were overrun, and if that helo hadn’t arrived when it did…” I looked away and took a moment to compose myself. “I won’t do that to a kid. I won’t put her or him through what I went through when my mom walked out. I’m playing the hand that life dealt me, but I’m changing the rules.”
I shredded the commission paperwork.
Monica stared as it fluttered to the coffee table. When the last piece landed, she cocked her head to the side and smirked up at me. “Dramatic much?”
Feeling strangely light despite the very heavy complication developing in my womb, I laughed. “Pregnancy hormones.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re gonna be using that excuse on the regular?”
“I’m puking every morning and all my joints hurt. Soon, I need to tell my dad and brother that I got knocked up. Not to mention the baby’s dad. Then, I’ll spend the next several months getting so fat I can’t even tie my own shoes while spending a small fortune on di
apers and a crib and a car seat and shit. Then, of course, there’s labor and all the fun that comes with it. Excusing my crazy because of pregnancy hormones is the one perk I get. Let me have it.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Granted. You know, you could ask for a different job. With your qualifications and knowledge, they’ll do what they can to get you to stay on.”
I’d been thinking about what I would do since I missed my first period. Growing up at the fire station was unusual, but I’d always been surrounded by people who loved and took care of me. Here on base, the community was different. Not as tight. Revolving. Changing based on deployment schedules and leave. If I stayed, my friends would help when they could, but I’d essentially be raising this child on my own. If I went home, I’d have help all the time.
And, I’d be around family.
Longing sliced through me at the thought. Over the past couple of months, I’d been feeling pangs of homesickness. Not so much for the place, but for the people. My brother had fallen in love and gotten married, and I felt like I’d missed out on their entire blossoming relationship. Last time I’d talked to him, Link said they were trying to get pregnant, and I wanted to be there for the birth of my niece or nephew. And what about when my own kid was born? I’d want Dad and Link there for that, too.
Dad and Margo had been pretty vocal about wanting grandkids. How many times had they asked me when I planned to settle down and get married? They’d want to be actively involved with my child: family dinners, school functions, sporting events, they’d want it all.
Hell, I wanted it all.
I suddenly missed my family so bad it hurt.
Even more painful was the pull I felt toward Eagle. The way he’d held me after I told him about the ambush, the fear in his eyes when he reminded me that I’d almost lost my life. I hadn’t been prepared to deal with the emotion—the connection—I’d felt then, but I was now. And part of me was worried that he was right. That I needed to get out before it was too late. Before the next time I couldn’t get my helo airborne.
“I’ve been gone a long time,” I replied. “I’m ready to go home,”
She stared at me, no doubt reading my expression. “I see that. My God, girl, how are you gonna tell Jake and Link about the baby?”
Sure, I was worried about how my dad and brother would react, but they weren’t my main concern. “The bigger question is how am I going to tell Houston?”
“Houston?” she asked.
“Eagle,” I amended.
“His name is Houston?” She snorted. “Priceless. I know exactly how you’re gonna tell him. You’re gonna get your ass on a plane, and the minute you see him, I want you to be like… Houston, we have a fucking problem.”
Of course, she had to go there. I tried to keep a straight face, but her hopeful expression was too comical. The whole situation was suddenly ridiculous. Unable to keep myself in check any longer, I doubled over, holding my stomach as I laughed.
“I’m serious! You can’t buy a better opportunity than this. You’re a badass Air Force pilot, Nae. If you’re getting out of the service and doing the whole mom thing, you damn well better go out like an astronaut. Every pilot’s dream, right? Damn, girl. I can’t believe you got knocked up by a Houston. Where do I find me one of those?”
She was killing me. “Stop,” I begged, still laughing.
“Oh, hell no. You’re never gonna live this down. Now, come on. We’re ordering pizza for lunch because we have all kinds of shit to do. You make the call to the base and your landlord, and I’ll try to find you a flight and start getting you packed.”
Her take-charge-and-get-shit-done attitude subdued my laughter as reality hit me. I was leaving the Air Force. I was finally going home… pregnant.
“Thanks, Monie Love,” I said. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I got you, boo,” she said, looking up from her cell phone long enough to flash me a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna get you through this.”
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone and called the base.
Naomi
I’D ALWAYS BEEN quick on my feet. Fast reflexes, critical thinking, informed decisions… it was all part of the job description, and I prided myself on being one hell of a capable pilot.
Until my early morning flight home to Seattle.
Never had I felt so incompetent and ill-prepared in my life. After spending the entire three hours in the sky brainstorming about how I’d approach Eagle with our situation, the plane touched down and I still had nothing. Nada. Zilch. Null. As I waited for my luggage, I mentally created a checklist of my current obstacles and accomplishments.
Pregnant, check.
Walked away from my military career, check.
No job or employment prospects, check.
Turned in the key to my furnished apartment, check.
Sold or gave away all my belongings except what I’d stuffed into my luggage, check.
No place to live, check.
Okay, that last one wasn’t entirely accurate. I always had a room at the fire station, so I’d never be homeless per se, but I wasn’t about to raise my kid in a biker clubhouse. Sure, I’d turned out okay (arguably), but I’d also seen a lot of shit that I’d like to shield my kid from. Besides, a crib wouldn’t fit in my room. I barely fit in my own room. I needed a place of my own.
Back to the list.
A baby-daddy who—according to my friend, Kim—slept around and was a known asshole, check.
That one was a doozy. I’d known how Eagle was before I’d ever sneaked into his room, and I never would have selected him as my child’s father. Who knew if he even liked kids? What if he didn’t want to be involved in the raising of ours? Then again, what if he did? His slutty asshole status sure didn’t make him a promising candidate for any Father of the Year awards.
Then again, being wasted when I conceived no doubt slid that Super Mom title well out of my grasp.
Honestly, based on our wild drunken trysts, neither of us were qualified to own a puppy, let alone raise a child. But really, who was? My mom wasn’t a drinker and she looked great on paper, but she couldn’t even hang in there until Link and I hit double digits. I, on the other hand, had never quit anything in my life. Softball, college, my ten-year commitment as an Air Force pilot… when I agreed to do something, I saw it through.
Maybe I wouldn’t be Super Mom, but at least I wouldn’t cut and run.
Rubbing my belly, I silently promised the baby I wouldn’t give up on him or her. No matter how tough life got, my kid would be able to count on me to hang in there and keep trying to be a good parent. I just needed a game plan, stat. According to the base doctor who’d checked me out before I left, I had approximately thirty weeks to get my shit together and figure out my life before this little bundle of joy came screaming into my chaos.
Piece of cake.
My first move would include telling Eagle and seeing whether or not he wanted to be involved, which I planned to get to as soon as I figured out how to break the news.
Maybe I should send him a congratulatory balloon and a card?
That would be easy, but I refused to sink to that level of chicken-shitty. No, I’d handle this like the slugger my dad believed I was. Collecting my luggage, I used my phone to request an uber, realizing it was the first time I’d ever arranged for a ride in Seattle. Growing up in the club, prospects had taxied me around until I was old enough to drive. Then I’d built my bike with Tank, Dad’s old vice president and the man who used to run the auto shop before he retired and Wasp took over.
My first taste of real freedom came in the form of a 1985 orange and black Harley Sportster that was still garaged at the fire station. Now that I was home, I planned to give it a good tune up and take it out for a drive. Hell, I could take it out for all the rides I wanted now.
I was home.
For good.
Mixed emotions churned my stomach and possibilities buzzed in my mind as the driver
dropped me off at the fire station. Since I didn’t want anyone to know I was home yet, I had him park on the side, unloaded my luggage, and wheeled everything around to the back. I still had a key, so I let myself in the back door and snuck my bags upstairs, stowing everything in my room, which suddenly seemed tiny and cramped, moving the task of getting my own place right to the top of the list.
Grabbing my purse, I crept down the stairs to the floor Eagle’s room was on. I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. He’d been working the day of the wedding rehearsal, and I’d overheard Link saying that he usually got off around three. Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was just past two. I had lots of time to kill, and I didn’t want to go back to my room and risk running into Link or one of the guys, so I tried Eagle’s door. Finding it unlocked, I let myself in.
Eagle’s room was spotless and his bed was made, all tucked and tight with hospital corners and everything. It was the type of bed I could bounce a quarter off. Clearly, he still clung to the discipline and attention to detail the service had drilled into his head. They say once a Marine, always a Marine.
No surprises there.
Setting my purse on his bed, I did a sweep of his space, searching for clues about the man who was fathering my child. It was a gross violation of his privacy, but since he’d knocked me up, and he didn’t see fit to lock his door, I reasoned that he couldn’t be too private.
Besides, I was nosy, and he’d told me very little about himself.
A half-empty bottle of Jack was on top of his mini-fridge. Inside the fridge, I found sandwich fixings, part of a pepperoni pizza, a six-pack of beer, and a quart of milk. Pretty much the basic staples of bachelor life.
A big free-standing black gun safe with an electronic lock stood against the wall behind the fridge. I would have loved to explore his collection of weapons, but they were locked down tight, telling me Eagle was a responsible gun owner.
As I was skirting his bed, I realized it had drawers under the mattress. Expecting to find clothes or Playboys or something, I tugged them open. There had to be more than a hundred hardcover books under his bed, all spine up, in alphabetical order by the author’s last name. The biggest surprise was that he appeared to have all the classics and several newer books as well. Maya Angelou, Jane Austen, Ray Bradbury, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Khaled Hosseini, Harper Lee, J.K. Rowling, J.D. Salinger, J.R.R. Tolkien, Mark Twain, I’d never seen such a comprehensive collection outside of a library, and I sure as hell didn’t expect to find it in a biker’s bedroom.