by Amy Brent
“I’m not an invalid,” he told her and then laid down on the couch and let her bring him some water to swallow the pills with.
“No, but you got shot, and it is okay to need a break for a few days while you recover.” She told him gently. “Besides, once you are feeling better, you can brag about how tough you were to all your friends.”
“No, I’ll be bragging about how my hot girlfriend fussed over me and took care of me and I let her,” he said and groaned when he moved and bumped his shoulder on the back of the couch.
“Let me grab you a couple of pillows,” she said, frowning, watching him try to get comfortable. “Or, you could come lay on my bed with me.”
“Your cat will lay on my head,” Charlie muttered, already dozing off again.
Shareena went and got him pillows and a blanket, and helped prop him up so he’d be more comfortable and then snorted when her cat jumped up on his chest, curled up and started to purr.
If he’d been worried about the cat, laying out in the open made him a much easier target when she could have locked him out of the bedroom. Shaking her head, she went to go do some editing work on the photos, and keep an eye on him tonight. The nurse had made her promise to watch for fevers and other signs of complications for the first couple of days.
She had been so focused on work and him, she’d almost forgotten about the baby.
A few weeks later, they were at the ultrasound, eager to find out the gender. They still weren’t entirely living together, and hadn’t found a house they’d both liked, but they’d grown closer together with each afternoon and night they’d spent in each other’s company.
“And… it’s a girl!” The tech announced, and showed them the three little lines that indicated gender. “Congratulations.”
“A daughter,” Charlie said and felt panic. The idea of chasing off boys, brushing pony tails, and fluffy dresses had him swallow hard. He had been kind of hoping for a rough and tumble boy, at least a boy he knew what to do with. Since he was a boy. Man… correction. He was a man.
Shareena beamed at him. “A little girl, how exciting.”
“Guess we really need to knuckle down and start picking out a house.” Charlie muttered and gave her a smile, he was happy. He just felt a little frightened at the prospect of raising a girl. The next words out of his mouth were a surprise to him, and shocked Shareena.
“She’s going to need a brother. At least I know what to do with boys.”
“Woah!” Shareena’s eyes widened and she choked, “how about we have this one, before we start talking about anymore.”
Charlie nodded, and wasn’t even sure where the thought had come from, he placed a hand on her belly after the tech had finished wiping it off and leaned down and kissed her.
“Marry me?” He asked her. It wasn’t the most romantic of proposals, but in the moment, with his hand on her belly, looking down at her, it felt right. And sometimes, timing and the rightness of the situation, made up for everything else.
Shareena blinked at him, and then nodded, though she was a little frightened by how fast everything was moving and almost worried that things would be too good to be true. She wanted to believe and have faith that this could work out like a fairytale, but something was holding her back.
When they got back home, he pulled out some fliers he’d been saving to show her of houses in nicer areas. He handed them to her and shrugged.
“If you want to see any of them, just let me know. If you don’t like any of them, we can keep looking. I know you’re doing all the work being pregnant, but I can do heavy lifting, painting, and anything else that needs done, if you tell me.” Charlie told her quietly. He wasn’t a person who had felt insecure very often in his life, but this was such a big deal, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it if she rejected his offers to help.
Shareena looked down at the papers and burst into tears, Charlie panicked and wasn’t sure if he should hug her, or back away slowly. So he just stood there. Staring, and waiting for her to tell him what to do.
She sobbed harder and finally he reached out and hugged her tight, patting her on the back and not saying a word. He was too worried if he opened his mouth, it would make her cry harder.
After a few minutes, she settled down and her sobs turned to sniffles and then quiet snorts until finally she buried her face against his chest and took soft, little breaths until she could talk again.
“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his hand still rubbing her back softly.
“Yes, it’s just… you’re so good to me, and everything is happening so fast, and I’m not ready for a baby, but there’s a time limit on how long I’ll be pregnant and then it will just be here. No, she will be here, and I don’t even have a name picked out.” Shareena talked fast, then sniffled when she took a breath.
“Well, we can pick a name, and if you don’t want to look at houses, we don’t have to right now.” Charlie said, trying to accommodate her.
“No, we can’t put it off any longer, I don’t want to be so big, and fat I can’t move things around the way I want them.” She looked up at him, and her eyes were big and red from her crying.
“Okay, then we can start looking, and we can look at baby names together. We can pick something out so she has a name.” Charlie told her and then hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. As far as hormonal pregnant women went, she wasn’t so bad, but the panic he felt at seeing her burst into tears made him realize he’d rather face down a million men with guns aimed at him, than not know how to help her when she was upset.
“Okay, that sounds good. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to cry,” Shareena wiped a hand on her cheek and then leaned up on her toes and kissed him. “Take me to bed, I need a distraction.”
Charlie nodded. That he could do. Sex was something that came naturally to him and he was good at it. Learning how to navigate the pregnancy hormones, and a new relationship and trying not to screw it up, was a lot scarier to him.
In the end, they might not know how it was going to play out, but he knew, that whatever was growing between them, would last if they paid attention to it and didn’t let it slip away.
As he followed her to the bedroom, he knew that he was right where he wanted to be, and despite his fears about the future, he didn’t have any regrets.
“I’m glad we picked this house,” Shareena told him. They’d moved in a couple weeks ago, and while it had taken some time to unpack and get organized when she was so close to her due-date, she knew that waiting for the right place had been worth it.
The back yard was huge, with a covered sitting area, a pre-installed wooden swing set, and a hot tub on the back deck that was huge and had room for eating outside or a bbq. The inside of the house was clean, but not so brand new you’d be worried a cat or a child would damage it. Her cat had been hiding under the bed and had barely come out since she’d moved in, but she knew it was just a matter of time before he got brave.
It had three bedrooms upstairs, and two downstairs, one they could use as an office, the other as a playroom when the baby got bigger, it had two living areas, and while it didn’t have a formal dining room, the kitchen was huge and you could easily fit a gigantic table in there for holidays if you needed. It felt homey. Right. It was on a corner lot, surrounded by trees and felt fairly private despite being in a neighborhood. There was a fence, trees and bushes separating them and the neighbor, and the neighbor’s garage was closest to the fence instead of the house.
It gave them the illusion of more privacy and quietness. The neighborhood had a small park, and an indoor pool that was open during the year that the neighborhood had chipped in to pay for. She was happy. While it wasn’t a country house, or a ranch, raising kids felt right in this environment for now and it was close enough to the local state parks she could always go for a drive.
Getting up to waddle downstairs from the nursery where she’d been folding linens and putting awa
y baby clothes in the dresser, she felt the urge to seek out Charlie. He was in the garage, trying to organize all his tools and supplies and cussing as he dropped a wrench on his foot.
“It might help to wear shoes when you’re working in the garage,” Shareena said as she stood there, watching him rub his bare foot.
“That would require thinking ahead about the possibility of damaging my toes with a wrench,” he told her and gave her a more thorough glance when he noticed her hand was on her belly and her posture was different than normal. “You feeling okay?”
“Yes, I think so…” Shareena took a step forward, then looked down at the pool of water on the cement floor, running down her legs. “Then again maybe not?”
“Is that your water breaking?” He asked, his eyes getting all big. “Okay, before I panic; what do you want me to do?”
“Let’s give it a little bit of time. Put the bags in the car, let’s hang out here for a while, and when things get too intense, we’ll go in.” She said logically, “I think I want a cup of tea, do you want one?”
Charlie stared at her for a minute, blinking at her sudden calmness. “Sure….”
He didn’t want to do anything to upset her and decided to just go along with it. A few hours later, when she was nearly biting his arm, he was glad he’d given her the chance to be calm, because as she pushed a baby out while standing next to the edge of the hospital bed, refusing to move, her fingers and nails were digging into his skin. And it hurt.
“You can do this, two more big pushes and your daughter will be born,” the hospital midwife encouraged her. She was kneeling on the ground, with gloves on, linen’s next to Shareena on the bed and some linen’s spread out on the floor to help collect anything that fell on the floor.
“I can’t do this,” Shareena nearly yelled in Charlie’s ear, making it ring. “I want an epidural.”
“It’s too late, you need to push, now.” The midwife told her, and then brought her hands up between Shareena’s legs as the head started to emerge. “You’re almost there, one more big push.”
Shareena groaned and bared down, the baby sliding out with the help of gravity. Breathing hard, she nearly roared as one more big push delivered the shoulders and body into the hands of the waiting midwife.
The midwife brought the baby up to Shareena’s chest, and had her sit back on the edge of the bed, because she was now trembling.
“Just have to wait for the placenta, and we’ll be done soon. Hold your baby, she’s beautiful, look at her. Did you guys decide a name?” The midwife asked as she assessed the baby as quietly as possible not to disturb either new mother or baby as Shareena held the baby to her chest.
“Jade. Jade Adella.” Shareena said and squeaked when the baby latched on to nurse, without any assistance or help.
The midwife smiled, “That’s good, and that will help your uterus to contract and to expel the placenta. Let her nurse.”
Shareena nodded, and stared at the baby in complete awe, words escaping her in that moment.
Charlie hugged his arm around Shareena, and watched his new daughter eat. Feeling stunned by the experience. It had been intense, passionate, and a calm before the storm. Yet he wouldn’t trade a minute of it.
“There’s only one thing missing,” Charlie finally announced.
Shareena looked up at him and tilted her head, confused, “What is that?”
“You still haven’t married me.”
“Oh. That.” Shareena laughed, “I guess she’s just in time to be the flower girl?”
“Absolutely.” Charlie said and felt complete. His world was whole, he finally felt like nothing was missing.
THE SEAL’S SURPRISE BABY
I knew I was going to have a tough night when the group of marines walked into the bar.
It was a Tuesday night, which was usually a pretty slow night. We had all the regulars here: the handful of lonely men who sat on the same bar stools every night, nursing their drinks; the couple who got a table near the window, splitting a bottle of wine; and the table full of rowdy college kids, who always insisted on getting the exact same table and always got separate checks. I was keeping myself busy stocking up behind the bar, taking advantage of the slow period to make sure we had plenty of napkins, straws, and sliced limes. But then half a dozen burly men with buzz cuts and boisterous attitudes strolled in and took over two tables near the center of the room.
One of them walked up to me and slapped his hands down on the bar, grinning wide. He wasn't in uniform, but I could tell he was a marine by the dog tags around his neck and the USMC t-shirt he wore. A couple of his friends were wearing fatigues, probably having just gotten off duty. They'd no doubt come from the base a few miles up the road, near the docks.
“Couple of pitchers of whatever you've got on tap, little lady,” he said.
I turned an annoyed look on him. I hated being called “little lady,” both because it was a sexist term meant to put a woman in her place, and because at my weight, no one called me “little” without meaning it ironically. But I kept it professional, and simply asked him, “You boys want to run a tab?”
He handed me a credit card to swipe. “You bet. And keep 'em coming, okay?”
I poured him the first two pitchers and added them to the tab. The marines worked up quite a ruckus as they started drinking, I kept an eye on them as I served the few other customers that came in. I usually didn't have any serious trouble when the boys from the base came down here. They were loud, they took up a lot of space, but they were good tippers and they didn't harass anyone. Mostly, they just gave me a headache.
That would have been all, if not for the second group that came in about half an hour later. There were four of them, and they were as muscular and hopped up on testosterone as the first bunch, though they were quieter about it. They had more of a deadly grace about them. They took a seat at a table near the back, and one of them walked up to place an order.
When I poured drinks for the man and his buddies, he looked me right in the eye and said, “Thank you, ma'am.” He had a slight southern accent, and held himself with more dignity than I would have expected. He wasn't too tall, but he was broad in the shoulders and had a solid build. He wore a navy blue t-shirt with a logo on the breast, depicting an eagle clutching an anchor and a trident in its talons. Above the logo were the words “U.S. Navy SEAL.”
He took the drinks back to his friends and they sat and shared a toast. I didn't expect any trouble from them at that point. But I was in for more than I'd bargained for.
I noticed the marines leaning close and whispering something to each other, right before one of them came over with their empty pitchers and ordered a refill.
I filled the pitchers and handed them to him. Then he leaned close and asked, “And can you do something for me, sweetheart? Send a round of drinks to our friends over there.” He nodded towards the SEALs.
I took a deep breath, knowing where this was going. “What do you want me to send them?”
He smirked. “Four Shirley Temples.”
I sighed and shook my head. I made the drinks—as long as they were paying customers, I'd give them what they wanted—but I gave the marine a serious look and said, “I don't want any trouble from you boys, now, you hear? You keep this nice and friendly.”
“Don't worry, Miss,” he said with a wink. “We're just showing our navy buddies our appreciation.”
I delivered the four bright pink cocktails to the SEALs' table and nodded over to the marines. “Courtesy of your friends there, gentlemen.”
The SEALs frowned at the drinks and cast some scowls at the marines. But the man I'd spoken to earlier played it real cool. He picked up the drink and turned to the marines, raising his glass in a salute. The rest of the SEALs followed suite.
“Mighty kind of you ladies to buy us a round of your favorite drinks,” he said.
The marines scowled. A couple of them slapped each other on the arms and pointed at the SEALs, leaning clo
se and whispering to each other. Both groups cast death glares across the room at each other.
“Don't go starting trouble, you understand?” I told the SEAL.
He nodded and took a sip of his Shirley Temple. “Nothing to worry about, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of letting anything inappropriate happen in your bar.”
“You'd better not.” I headed back to the bar to deal with a couple of other orders from my regulars. I kept watching the marines and the SEALs as much as I could. I knew their types, and I knew this little pissing contest wasn't over yet.
The next round started a little later, after both groups had a few more beers in them. A couple of them headed to the men's room. When they returned, one of the taller SEALs patted one of the marines on the shoulder and said loud enough for the whole bar to hear, “We need to get these boys out on a boat. This boy here clearly doesn't have his sea legs.”
The marine just glared at him, clearly not getting the joke.
The SEAL snickered and added, “I saw you swaying in there so bad it looked like you were about to fall in! And don't they teach you marine boys how to aim.”
The marine stepped closer, shoving his face in the SEAL's. “I keep trying to work on my aim,” he said, “but your momma can't seem to hold still and keep her mouth open.”
And that was the trigger that set off the whole lot of them.
The SEAL that had just been insulted raised a fist. All of the men at both tables shot to their feet. The gentlemanly one moved the quickest, grabbing his buddy's arm before he could take a swing. “Now, Charlie, don't go doing anything that would make the nice lady kick us out of here, all right?”
I raised my chin and looked all the men over in a broad sweep. “You all settle your britches, you hear me? I thought they taught y'all better manners than this.”
The men slowly separated, a couple of them straightening their shirts and holding their chins up high. Though one of the marines couldn't quite manage to keep his mouth shut. “The navy needs to teach their boys when they've bitten off more than they can chew.”