by Rachel Lee
“I know.” She could tell he didn’t see the point in arguing against the obvious. “Well, I could step in.”
“Yeah. I’ll bring the baby here, disrupt his life for a few months, then come back and disrupt it again. I’ve got to figure this out.”
He didn’t argue.
“My place or my parents’?” he asked as they reached the edge of town.
“Yours,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I’m up to your mother just now.”
He laughed quietly. “She can be overwhelming.”
“I like her, really. But I don’t want any pressure right now. Just my luck that she’d put her finger on the very things I’m worrying about.”
“She can be good at that.”
He turned onto his dimly lit street. “You can stay the night and take my bed. I’ll get some dinner for us, and we can just relax and chat about whatever you like. Or if you want, I have some books you can read. Do you want me to run over to my folks’ house to get your stuff?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I don’t want to insult them, but...”
“I’ll just explain we need privacy to talk. No offense. Promise.”
She hesitated as he put the car into Park. “Where will you sleep?”
“On the floor. I’ve slept in places a whole lot worse, believe me.”
She had no trouble believing it at all. She’d slept in a few herself. She felt briefly guilty about it then told herself to cut it out. He could stay with his parents if he didn’t want to sleep on the floor.
She just knew she couldn’t go back there. Just her brief exposure had reminded her of a life she had never really known. As loving as her grandmother had been, it had still been life with an elderly person, no rambunctious siblings or cousins. Almost monastic in a way.
Yeah, she was going to make one hell of a mother.
Seth had a couple of relatively new easy chairs in his living room, signs of occupancy. He probably spent a lot of time here, and the extra chair indicated he sometimes had a friend or family member over.
She settled into one, wondering if the internal wrestling match would ever be over. She thought she’d worked this all out, and now she was facing a new problem. Having a baby was a big deal. Having one when you were rootless was an even bigger deal.
It was all well and good for her to consider her unit her home, the air force her community, but while that worked for an adult, she wasn’t so sure about a child.
Seth had made a good point about how the love would travel with them wherever they went, but would that be enough? Just her and a baby? And those stints of temporary duty really worried her for the first time. How could she have not thought about them before?
Because she still hadn’t really dealt with all the life changes that were coming. Much as she wanted to plan and prepare and be ready for everything, she hadn’t had time to consider every single thing yet. It felt as if new considerations just kept popping up.
Like this one. She once again had been thinking in terms of fitting the baby into her life, not fitting her life around the baby. Stupid.
A child would be utterly dependent on her for everything. It was not a matter of fitting this baby into her life, it had to be the other way around. It had to be.
So maybe it was time to start thinking about that. Maybe her career was no longer a viable option.
The thought sat like a lead weight in her stomach. What would she do? What kind of life could she build that she would love as much as the one she already had?
Although if she were to be honest, some of the shine had come off that, especially lately when she saw her future narrowing. She hadn’t been picked for combat search and rescue, she had volunteered for it and sought it. Now that was gone.
Which left what? Teaching others to do what she loved and always hankering to get back to it? Or something else? The problem was, she had never thought of doing something else. Since the day she had first heard of CSAR, it was all she had wanted to do.
Of course, a realistic view of life would tell her that even without a baby those days were numbered. A great many pilots were removed from combat duty in their early thirties for a variety of reasons. Sooner or later, they would have yanked her back anyway.
So it was just a little sooner. She’d cope, because she had to. But she admitted to herself that she was woefully unprepared to consider the question. It had always lurked somewhere in her future, but she hadn’t given it a thought anyway. It would have hit her like a ton of bricks regardless.
She thought of other pilots she’d seen get the results of their flight physicals only to hear that some little quirk, a quirk that wasn’t causing problems, had showed up on the electrocardiograms. Or some other thing. It didn’t matter, it was always something minor that wouldn’t affect them in any important way, but they were no longer considered fit for combat flying. They could only fly trainers after that. She’d felt for them, but honestly hadn’t been able to imagine how much that would hurt. Until now. Now she felt it all the way to her soul.
All of a sudden her future, which had steadily been shifting shape, now became one great big blank.
* * *
Of course, Seth thought as he picked up Edie’s belongings, everything was already neatly packed in her duffel. Nothing left out on bathroom counters, by the tub, beside the bed. Ready to go at an instant’s notice. He couldn’t help smiling crookedly as he saw it. How long had he lived the same way? Even during his marriages, that damn duffel had been there, ready to go.
Big changes. He was beginning to sense what was troubling Edie. She hadn’t expected to face these changes for a while yet, but they were barreling down on her right now. He could sympathize, at least to some extent.
After all, he’d opted to retire rather than take a training or desk assignment. Given his rank, it would have been mostly behind a desk. But he’d had time to make mental adjustments. He’d been making them for the last few years. Edie was trying to do it in a matter of months.
“Why didn’t she come stay here?”
Seth turned to see Marge in the doorway. “We need time, Mom. Private time, that’s all. We’ve got a lot to work out.”
Marge bit her lower lip. “She does know she’s welcome?”
“Of course she knows. She’s probably overwhelmed by the welcome. I think she expected to be turned away, not have an entire family laid at her feet.”
Marge smiled a bit. “We can overwhelm, can’t we?”
“I’m still getting used to it myself. Relax. We just need the time. Big changes and all that.”
“I suppose. But, Seth, how can you be a single parent while you’re on active duty?”
Seth bent and lifted the duffel. “You’d be surprised what people can do. Let us work it out, and don’t say things that might offend Edie.”
“I’d never do that!”
“Not intentionally. This woman is extremely competent. She’ll make the right decisions.”
“They’d better include you.”
“They already are.”
With that he managed to escape the house. He could well understand why Edie didn’t want to come back. Marge was rushing her fences, full of questions and probably solutions. But Edie, and he, had to answer their own questions. Nobody else could make it right for both of them.
He stopped at the diner and tried to pick up enough food to get them through morning. That kitchen of his wasn’t good for cooking yet, and he hadn’t gotten very many utensils. He threw in a big salad for good measure, figuring a pregnant woman needed healthy food. Then he hit the grocery fast for milk, crackers, cheese, fruit and some sweet rolls. Damn, he didn’t even know what Edie liked to eat.
The learning curve was getting about as steep as his BUD/S training had been. That brought a grin to his lips. Another mo
untain to conquer, even if it was inside himself. He’d been facing down those mountains and cliffs for a long time. Challenge was a great thing.
When he got back he found Edie sitting in a recliner with her feet up. Still wearing boots. He managed to hide his smile about that. She was ready to jump and go on a moment’s notice. He figured that he’d win a major victory the day he could get her to sit around here in stocking feet.
She smiled faintly when she saw him. “Everything go okay?”
“Mom was understanding, but I can tell you, you were right not to want to go back tonight. She wants to rush a bunch of solutions.”
“She seems like someone who likes to solve problems.”
“Must run in the family. Sorry I took so long, but I decided that given the baby I’d better buy some groceries, not just Maude’s food. I got some salad there, but stopped to pick up milk and a few other things for nibbles. Then it struck me I don’t even know what you like.”
“I think we had this discussion. Life didn’t make me a picky eater.”
He gave a laugh. “Me neither. But there are probably nutritional rules you need to be following.”
“At the mess hall I don’t have to think about it much. Everything is there.”
“Well, it’s not here, so you’ll have to guide me.” He turned. “I still need to bring in the groceries.” He dropped her duffel by the door. “At least I have a working fridge.”
He returned to his vehicle and pulled out the cloth bags. Inside he found Edie in the kitchen now, ready to help him. She opened the fridge and started to laugh.
“It’s pretty embarrassing,” he admitted.
“A six-pack? You really don’t eat here.”
“Not very often. I have a permanent dinner invitation with Mom and Dad, and sometimes my sisters step in.”
“How many of them live here?”
“Just two, Mary and Wendy. The rest are scattered over the country. Thanksgiving and Christmas bring the herd home.”
“What do they do?” she asked as she helped move groceries into the refrigerator.
“Mary’s a nurse at the hospital. She did a tour in the navy for a while, then with the VA. And Wendy is a flight nurse. She and her husband run our county emergency response team.” He paused. “I think you’d like her husband, Yuma. He flew Hueys in Vietnam and now he flies them for our emergency response team.”
She sat slowly on a chair. “Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s some family you got there.”
“I think so. Some of my sisters are nurses, some are teachers. By the time you add in husbands, we’ve got cops, doctors, journalists.”
“Overwhelming.”
“Only until you get used to it. Take Mary. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter, kinder person.”
“And Wendy?”
“She’s a little tougher in her own way. I mean, Mary dealt with the Asian tsunami cleanup, and a lot of severely wounded vets. I suspect she’s got a few nightmares, but you’d never guess. Wendy, though...well, she got tough a different way, chasing Yuma.”
That surprised a laugh from Edie. “How would that toughen her?”
“She fell in love with him when she was still a kid. He wanted no part of it. He had a lot of PTSD and a drinking problem. For a while he even lived up in the mountains with a bunch of other vets who had really severe PTSD. Anyway, Wendy didn’t give up. She went to work in a big-city emergency room so she could understand some of what Yuma was dealing with, then she came back here a grown woman and just refused to listen to his nonsense. She’d made up her mind. Even got involved with the vets in the mountains.”
“She sounds like something else.”
“There’s little that will divert her once she makes up her mind. You know, I bet Yuma would let you take the stick of one of our ERT Hueys, if you want.”
“I’d love that!”
He smiled. “I figured. I’ll see.”
Watching her dig into the salad did his heart good. As he had suspected, she needed more than sandwiches, and she really hadn’t had anything else all day. She also downed two glasses of milk. He made mental notes. Likely it wasn’t all that different from a good training diet.
He insisted on cleaning up and told her to go relax and, “For God’s sake, take off those boots.”
At that she giggled, a sound he hadn’t heard since that night in Afghanistan so long ago. She had laughed a few times since arriving here, but nothing that sounded quite as free as that giggle. Well, with the possible exception of when she saw what was in his fridge.
He knew, though, that something new had started to bother her that afternoon on the way back from the mountains, and he wondered how the hell he could find out. She wasn’t talking much yet, not that he could blame her. They’d shared the greatest of intimacies, had even created a life, yet they didn’t know each other at all, really. Perfect strangers. That didn’t create much of a climate for a heart-to-heart.
Although he wasn’t sure how good he was with that kind of thing. Neither of his marriages had been long enough to really test his ability to talk with a woman about difficult things...with the exception of one screaming match as a woman walked out the door.
He’d spent most of his adult life dealing with other men in special ops. He knew those rules, knew you could be closer than brothers and still not say some things. Ever.
He hadn’t been around his sisters enough over the years under circumstances that would have helped him make up for his shortfalls. But maybe talking to a woman wasn’t all that different. Maybe he just needed to be honest and find his way through.
Hell if he knew. All of a sudden he felt as if he had missed half of life’s necessary experiences.
When he went to the living room, he found that Edie had at last removed her boots. “How are your ankles?”
“Growing by the second.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not really. It’s only really bad if I spend all day standing or sitting. I didn’t do that today. The swelling will be minor.”
“Anything special you need to do for it?”
“Keep my feet up.”
He sat in the facing chair and waited. He had the worst urge to touch her, even if it was only to massage her ankles. Damn, it was too soon to be thinking of such things, if it would ever be possible again. A thought occurred to him.
“Do you feel like I betrayed you?”
Her eyes widened. “I told you I didn’t blame you. We’re adults, Seth. You even used protection.”
“But I was gone the next morning. I never wrote or anything.”
“You gave me your parents’ address. You’ll notice I didn’t try to reach you, either, until...well.”
“Yeah. But I still feel a little guilty. I mean, I’m used to having to take off that way. We didn’t hold still for long. But...unless you’re used to that it could seem cold.”
“I understood. I’ve been around that block a few times. I get missions and orders. I know.”
One advantage to a woman who had shared the lifestyle.
“But I’ve been thinking about that,” she said, pulling his entire attention to her.
“About what?” he asked when she remained silent.
“I may have to resign my commission.”
He didn’t like the sinking feeling that hit him in the gut. “Edie...” The protest was instinctive. He knew how hard he’d worked for his goals, and he didn’t for a second doubt she had worked every bit as hard. To just toss it all away?
But she shook her head. “I haven’t decided. But while you were out it struck me that I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can fit this baby into my life. I haven’t given any thought at all to how I can fit my life to this baby and what’s best for him.”
He honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. What good would it do to toss off easy suggestions about how he could fill in when necessary? He suspected that wasn’t what she was trying to get at. There was something deeper going on here.
One thought did occur to him, and he spoke it, knowing it might well infuriate her. “Just don’t give up so much that you immolate yourself on a pyre of self-denial.”
“Meaning?”
“A bitter mother is hardly better than no mother at all. You don’t want to hate this kid because he cost you everything.”
For an instant, he thought she was going to erupt. He could have sworn he saw blue fire leap in her eyes. Who was he, after all, to say anything about her decisions? But a few seconds later she sighed and closed her eyes. “You’re right. And that’s part of what’s making this so hard.”
“Anything else?”
“What?”
“Is something else pushing you on these decisions? Because I’m sure not every one of them needs to be made right away. I mean, some can be decided after the baby comes when you see how things are working. He’s not likely to remember much of his first few months except whether he feels secure.”
“True.” She still didn’t open her eyes. “Maybe I’m wondering these things because my own mother stunk at motherhood. She didn’t care enough to give up drugs.”
He hesitated. “Did they affect you?”
“No. Apparently not. From everything my grandmother said, I wasn’t born addicted. I guess she didn’t really get hooked herself until after I came along.”
“Or maybe she cared enough not to mess you up while she carried you.”
Edie’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t read her expression at all. He wished he were a mind reader. “It’s possible,” she said finally. “I don’t know much. Anything’s possible.”
“Cling to that thought. It’s better than other possibilities.”
“Are you always an optimist?”
“I couldn’t have done all that redacted stuff if I weren’t.”