by Tawny Weber
2400 Wednesday
NAVY HOSPITAL
San Diego, CA
“Push!” Marc shouted, caught up in the moment. Taking his cue from the doctor, he squeezed Carol’s hand. “One more time.”
“I can’t. I can’t,” she panted, rolling her head from side to side.
“Yes, you can.” Stilling her restless movements, he brushed her damp brow. “Breathe, Carol. For Brad.”
“No,” she moaned. “Something’s happened to him, I know it. He’s supposed to be here. We had his leave all planned!”
“Things change, sweetheart. This baby’s coming now. Push!” He supported her while she bore down. “It’s a boy,” the doctor announced.
Carol sobbed in his arms. “I hate him. I hate him for not being here.”
“Shh. You don’t hate him. You just miss him. He’s doing what he has to do.” The way the person he missed was doing what she had to do. The baby’s cry filled the room and Marc pulled Carol closer. “Brad’s going to kick himself in the behind until next Tuesday for missing this. And you can hang it over his head for the next twenty years.”
The nurse handed him the swaddled infant, and his chest tightened. Counting fingers and toes with Carol, he knew this was what he wanted. Brad, you lucky dog.
He realized he had more than he deserved. How stupid he’d been not to have realized it before.
“We want you and Tabby to be the godparents.”
“Thank you. I’d be honored. What’s the little tyke’s name?”
“We picked Duane for a boy. But I wanted Wesley.”
“Stick with Duane.”
“Wes is masculine,” she defended her choice. “You macho types are all alike.”
Marc called work to check in. Then at Carol’s insistence, he made the first phone call to the XO’s wife and started the Navy wives’ grapevine rolling while Carol settled into her hospital room.
Navy wives were a strong breed.
They gave birth, cried and waited. Alone. Out of necessity they’d developed a strong support system for each other. If they were brave enough to send their husbands into danger, then, God help him, he’d do the same for Tabitha.
He could do this. Just as soon as she came home he’d show Tabitha how tough a Navy husband could be. Strong. Supportive. Loving.
It was nothing less than he expected from her.
They’d have dual Navy careers. Of course all his plans hinged on her giving him one last chance. His angry words came back to haunt him. How could he threaten her like that? Make her choose? He knew how important it was to have focus during a mission.
Marc pulled his dog tags from beneath his shirt. Their wedding bands dangled from the chain. “Forgive me?” he asked the air.
He had some serious butt kissing to do. He’d start at her sexy little tattoo and work his way from there.
He fueled up on coffee from a vending machine.
Passing the hospital florist, Marc stopped and ordered a roomful for Carol, carrying a simple bouquet with him. He bought other necessities in the gift shop. A camera, “It’s a boy” cigars and a teddy bear with a blue ribbon. On his way back to the maternity ward, his step felt lighter than it had in months. Being a godfather wasn’t half bad.
He stopped by the nursery for a peek at Duane while he had his first diaper change.
After a few snapshots, he wheeled the baby back to Mommy.
“Oh,” Carol cooed when he brought her the baby and the gifts.
Marc’s pager beeped. He read the message. Choppers incoming. ETA 0645. Fifteen minutes. Just enough time to stop by the florist again, before heading to the terminal. “They’re back! Are you going to be okay, if I go meet the helicopters?”
“Of course.” She bounced the bed in her excitement.
“Then I’ll send Brad right over.” He kissed her cheek, then the baby’s and left.
It took him twenty minutes to get back to base. The first chopper was already on the ground, unloading, by the time he parked and stepped to the tarmac with an arm full of roses. The salesgirl had helped him decide on the color. Yellow. For waiting.
The team filed past, some of the lucky ones stealing kisses from their wives on the way to debriefing. He wouldn’t be able to talk to her right away. But maybe he’d be able to steal a kiss.
He watched the men in passing. They were hanging their heads and avoiding eye contact with him.
Strange. He knew most of them intimately. He’d been their CO and Brad their XO before Marc had become the Commanding Officer of training. But even he wouldn’t get information before they were debriefed.
The first chopper emptied. Neither Tabby nor Brad were on it. The hairs at the back of his neck rose. The second chopper landed and only a handful of men got off. As near as he could figure both Alpha and Echo squads were missing. He broke into a cold sweat.
In the history of the teams no SEAL had ever been left behind, dead or alive. The buddy system ensured every man came home. Every man and woman.
Flowers at his side, Marc strode over to J.C., the XO and leader of Bravo squad. “Where is she?” Marc demanded, grabbing the man by the arm.
“Hospital. In Greece.”
“How bad?” Marc couldn’t breathe because of the pain in his chest. He didn’t know where he found the air to ask the question. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer.
“I don’t know the extent of her injuries. We brought her in unconscious. Her squad stayed with her. If you hang around I could find out and fill you in after debriefing.”
Marc nodded absently.
It was right that her squad had stayed with her. He needed to get to Greece.
“Brad stayed, too?”
J.C. sighed heavily and leveled his gaze. “Brad’s hurt too. And it’s all her fault. If she hadn’t been along in the first place—”
Marc closed in on the SEAL until the roses were crushed between them. Thorns pricked his skin. “Whose fault was it when Manny got shot? Everyone on the team? There are risks to this job. You know it. I know it.”
“He was watching out for her.”
“And that’s what I’d expect every CO to do for his BUDS. It’s what I did for mine. Or don’t you remember the bullet I took for you? Don’t ever slander my wife again. I trained her. I know what she’s capable of.” He backed off. “And I still want to know how she is doing,” he said, softening his strained vocal cords.
“Sure, Marc,” J.C. said quietly. Without another word, he walked toward the hangar.
“Have Elaine go sit with Carol,” Marc called after the departing man. “She just had the baby. Don’t let anybody get her worked up. I’m taking the first plane out of here.”
Chapter 28
It probably wouldn’t get him to Greece any faster than a commercial flight, but at least it put him in the air right away. He couldn’t wait for the debriefing to end; he had to do something.
Crushed roses in his lap, he leaned back in his seat and listened to the hum of the C-130’s engine. At Andrews Air Force Base in Virginia, he switched to one of their larger crafts. Several untouched box lunches and windowless cargo planes later he was airlifted by a helicopter carrying mail and Naval personnel to an aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean.
All he had to do now was convince the USS Enterprise's Commanding Officer to authorize the helicopter to leave once it unloaded, rather than the next day as scheduled. The pilots had already agreed for the price of a case of beer.
Stepping from the helicopter with his dead roses, Marc ducked under the whirring blades, thinking about what he could offer the CO in return for the favor. He stood by the elevator, waiting to go to the bridge, when the doors opened and several men got out.
A Lieutenant Junior Grade bumped into him, and Marc’s eyes were drawn to the name tag on his flight suit. Prince. Could it be? Had to be. Except for the smile, he was a younger version of the Toad. “You wouldn’t be Tabitha’s brother, by chance?”
The junior officer si
zed him up. “By chance, I am.” He flashed a cocky grin. “Miller... You would be my sister’s pain in the—”
“Tabitha’s in a hospital in Greece. What’s the fastest way off this scow?”
Twenty minutes later with the Commanding Officer’s permission, he was flying RIO in an F-14 Tomcat with Prince at the controls. He hadn’t liked flying before and he really hated it now after the takeoff from a football field instead of a runway.
He liked that LTjg Prince was a man of few questions. If Tabitha’s brother wondered what Marc was doing here he didn’t ask.
When they finally got to the hospital, Marc discovered Brad had been discharged and that Tabitha was in the neurology wing. He headed there while Prince went to a bank of phones.
The waiting room outside of Neurology was filled with the SEALs. The two squads occupied every chair. Brad was among them.
As soon as he saw Marc, Brad, cast on his left arm, got to his feet. “That was fast.” They gripped right arms.
“Don’t ask. How is she?” he asked in hushed tones, pulling his friend aside.
“She’s fine, Marc, really. A slight concussion, that’s all. They’re keeping her one more night for observation.”
Thank God. “J.C.—”
“J.C.’s an asshole. You know it and I know it. She did good, Marc. Everything she was supposed to do. We’re all proud of her. I can’t even get the squad to leave. Maybe now that you’re here—” Marc looked around at her squad, Gummy, Armstrong and the others.
“They can stay,” he said. “But do me a favor and get yourself home.”
“I can stay with you. Carol won’t mind.”
“But little Wesley will.”
“Wes— I’m a daddy! Wesley? We agreed on Duane!”
“Better hurry up then, ’cause Carol was about to sign his birth certificate into record,” he teased, then gave Brad a quick rundown on the details of Duane’s birth.
“Thanks for taking care of my wife.”
“Ditto.”
Brad was about to leave when Tad Prince and his wife walked in, demanding to see their daughter. Apparently, they had been yachting in the Mediterranean and Brad had sent word alerting them. Zach was with them.
Marc beat the Princes to the counter.
“Tabitha Chapel’s room number?”
“I’m sorry,” the station nurse said. “The doctor is limiting patient visitation to family only. Please, have a seat in the waiting room.”
“For a minor concussion? How serious is this?”
“Serious enough.” the nurse drawled. “Please have a seat with the men.” She dismissed Marc and turned to the Princes.
“I’m her father...”
“I’m her husband.” Marc looked his former Commanding Officer square in the eye. “That gives me priority.”
Marc had started to turn. Otherwise, he would have seen the punch coming. It was the only explanation he could come up with from his vantage point on the floor. He sat up, checking his jaw.
“You denied me the chance to walk my daughter down the aisle. How are you going to rectify that, sailor? You’d better see a Navy white wedding in your future complete with military arch.”
“Yes, sir,” he said without hesitation.
Tad Prince put out his hand and helped Marc to his feet. “I guess that makes you my son-in-law.”
“I guess it does. If you don’t mind, sir, I flew a long way to see my wife.”
He thought he saw a glimmer of a smile on Prince’s face.
“Mom! What are you doing here?”
“I know I told you we’d be meeting the Thomases in Monte Carlo and spending the rest of October here. The Navy got a message to us.” Lily Chapel-Prince stepped over to the bed and fussed with Tabby’s sheets and pillows.
‘‘Where’s Dad?” Tabby sat up in the hospital bed.
“I believe he’s reacquainting himself with your husband,” her mother answered.
Tabby moaned and pulled the covers over her head. “My head hurts.” She fumbled for the call button.
Her mother took it from her. “Mind telling me when you decided to cut your family from your life? You should have told us.”
Tabby folded the covers to her waist. “We eloped.”
“I gathered that.”
“Six months ago.” She gave her attention to creasing the sheet.
“Six...”
“There’s nothing to tell anyway. We haven’t exactly been living as husband and wife. Marc’s already filed for a divorce.” Her voice broke as the full impact of the word hit her. She caught the sympathy in her mother’s eyes. When her mother opened her arms, Tabby took comfort there and stopped trying to hold back her tears. “He doesn’t want me.”
“The man just flew halfway around the world. I’d say he wants you.”
“He hates my job.”
“I hated your father’s job. The Commander just hates the idea of your leaving him.”
“I can’t give it up, not even for him. I saved a little boy today. It’s what I want to do with my life. I don’t want to lose Marc. I love him, but I hate him for making me choose. Why do women have to make all the sacrifices? How did you stand it when you gave up the salvage business for Dad?”
“Tabitha!” Her mother pulled back. “What are you talking about? I didn’t give up anything for your father that I didn’t get tenfold in return. Besides we spend most of our time diving and yachting now. If you’re not willing to compromise when it comes to your marriage you may as well go out there and tell your Commander to get back on that airplane. I chose a life on land rather than at sea so I could spend more time with your father and we could start a family. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. He chose early retirement so we could raise you kids together. I know he wanted to stay in the Navy longer, but it was more important for him to be with us, and he’d already had his time as a SEAL. Just as I’d had my time as a sea captain. There are only so many child-bearing years in a lifetime...”
“What are you saying? I should give up the SEALs and have babies?”
“I’m not saying that—maybe this is your time to be a SEAL. All I’m saying is you have choices to make, you and your husband both. And if each of you wants the other in your life, you have to discuss them.”
Tabby put her hand over her mother’s. “Mom, Marc can’t have kids.”
“Don’t tell me that. Between you and your brothers I’m never going to be a grandmother. Don’t rush on my account, though. I can wait a few more years—I’m still a young fifty-nine.”
“A very beautiful fifty-nine.” Tabby squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘‘Thanks, Mom, but I know Marc; he’s going to want me to quit because of a little bump on the head. And I know I can’t compromise about that.”
Seated across from his father-in-law, with the rest of the squad scattered around them, Marc had to content himself with flipping through magazines in the waiting room because the nurse had threatened to call security and have them all removed if they didn’t behave.
He also had to keep a keen eye on his brother-in- law who was hanging out at the nurse’s station. If he wasn’t mistaken, LTjg Prince was flirting his way to being second-in-line to see Tabitha.
Marc had waited long enough to reassure himself she was all right—to tell her he loved her and broach her father’s idea of another wedding with all the trappings. He just hoped he hadn’t waited too long to work things out.
A small boy raced down the corridor yelling for his American mother.
“Hey, sport, what’s the hurry?” Marc saved the little rascal from running headlong into a magazine rack and received a grateful look from the nun pursuing him.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled up at her, then turned his attention back to the squirming child in his arms.
“American?” the boy asked.
“Yeah.”
“I want American mother,” the boy pleaded in stilted English.
Marc looked questioningly a
t the nun.
“The soldier who saved him from the rebels. I promised he could say goodbye before going to the orphanage.”
“Not goodbye! American mother!”
“He’s talking about Tabby,” Gummy explained.
Marc had figured that out. He pushed to his feet and picked up the boy. He was a cute kid with mussed brown hair and a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. Why did Marc suddenly feel as if he’d come home? “I think I know where to find her. Let’s go say hello.”
The sister followed as he made his way to his wife’s room. The thought of adoption—once not even an option—started to take hold as he held the boy. And maybe not just adoption. If he couldn’t have his vasectomy reversed, there were other ways to make babies.
Tabitha’s babies. His babies. Their babies.
In loving Tabby, he realized he had love to spare. It didn’t matter who’d fathered the boy. What mattered was the character of the man who raised him.
He didn’t have to repeat Warren Miller’s mistakes.
The ones Marc made would be tempered with love. It was then he knew he could handle Tabitha’s career choice. He’d been willing to give it a try before, but now that his worst fears were behind him, he knew he’d be the perfect Navy husband—and father.
He turned to the sister. “How hard would it be for an American family to adopt a refugee orphan?’’ “Not hard.” She smiled at him. “A lot of red tape. A lot of money. His name is Aaron.”
“My wife is a wiz at cutting red tape.” And they’d find a way to come up with the money.
Then he saw Tabitha standing in the doorway of her hospital room. A little bruised, but that was all.
He put Aaron down and savored the moment when the boy ran to her. She stooped and put her arm around him.
One step, two, three, and he was in the picture, too.
“I love you, Tabitha.” He pulled her into his arms, as the boy watched. “I got your message. The one you left on my machine—and the one you’ve been trying to tell me all along. I came to give you this.” He took off his dog tags and put her ring back on her finger where it belonged. “There’s a big wedding in it for you this time around.”