The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

10

Afew days later, Violet took advantage of some quiet time to straighten up. She moved through the kitchen putting dishes away before heading to the dining room, which they only used as a space to work. The laptop, hard drive, and a legal pad where she’d written some notes were on the shiny surface.

When she picked up her legal pad, she spied one of Anderson’s small notebooks beneath it. Unusual for it to be out of his pocket, she thought, as she picked it up and turned it over in her hands. She was curious—what did he record? She listened but didn’t hear him in the house. He must still be in the backyard with Nate. She’d just take a peek.

She flipped open the notebook at the halfway point, focusing on a page of handwritten text. His notes appeared to be in sort of code. She studied it for a minute, looking for patterns and clues how to interpret it. It seemed to be a blend of several languages. She saw Russian, Arabic, and Spanish, but it was more complicated than that. She looked closer. After a few minutes she caught on to some of it. He rendered English words using foreign alphabets. Clever. It would take time and a vast knowledge of language to understand it all.

She continued toward the back of the notebook and stopped at a random page where everything was in English. Starting to read, she smiled as she recognized the dirt-eating story and the subsequent bath. Anderson had recounted what happened, along with his fears and worries.

“How sweet,” she murmured when she read Anderson’s version of rocking his son to sleep while she was in the tub. The story ended there and didn’t include the time they’d spent in her bed. That hour had been the best part of her day.

She felt a happy glow just remembering it. Since then, he’d joined her in the master bedroom each night. They hadn’t discussed the future, because there were no answers—not easy ones, anyway. One day at a time, she reminded herself. Looking at it that way enabled her to enjoy being with him.

She continued on to the last entry in the notebook, about their picnic in the backyard from the day before. His account was surprisingly detailed. He seemed to paint a picture with his descriptions, as if he wanted something tangible to remember the experience by. Was this his way of expressing what he couldn’t say?

When she heard footsteps in the kitchen, she quickly tucked the notebook away and busied herself sorting through some junk mail that had arrived at the house. A few seconds later, Anderson was in the doorway with Nate.

“Everything okay?” she asked, looking up.

“Yeah, but I thought I’d take Nate for a trip around the neighborhood. He’s getting bored.”

Anderson had gone from not knowing anything about babies to being able to perceive Nate’s mood before he started fussing. Interesting, but she kept the observation to herself. If she said something, Anderson would be sure to deny it.

“Sure, that’s a good idea,” she said. A neighbor had loaned them a stroller when she saw they didn’t have one.

“Lock up after me,” Anderson said.

“I will.” They were careful about locking doors and setting the alarm system. She noticed, though, that the neighbors didn’t seem to worry about home security much. They came and went freely, without the constant vigilance she and Anderson had to maintain.

After she helped strap Nate into the stroller, she gave each of her boys a kiss and held the door for them. She sighed once they were on the sidewalk. She’d like to keep everything just like this… minus the threat against them. That she could do without.

She locked the door carefully, then noticed a message from her mom on her phone. She had some alone time, so she started a video call.

“Hi, Mom,” she said as she went up the stairs to the bedroom. They’d been in touch enough that her mom knew she was safe but on the move.

“Hi, honey.” Her mom smiled at her. “Is your situation any better?”

“Still in the middle of it, but no developments. We’re safe.” Seeing her mom helped give Violet a sense of normalcy. No matter what had happened in Violet’s life, her mother had been there for her.

Her mother scrutinized her. “I’ll take your word for that. How’s my grandson?”

“He’s doing fine. Thank goodness he’s young, so he can’t ask questions about why we’re in a strange house.” Disrupting a baby’s schedule was no picnic, but she couldn’t imagine trying to get an older child to understand the situation. Plus, Nate was too young to be scared as long as she and Anderson were calm around him.

“Can I see him, or is he napping?” her mom asked.

“Neither,” Violet answered, sitting on the bed and propping herself against the headboard. “Anderson took him for a walk, but I’ll send you a new picture later.”

“Anderson is… doing okay with this?”

Violet had told her mother about the brief affair in Moscow and what she knew of Anderson, including her analysis that he wouldn’t welcome being a father.

“Surprisingly well. He’s jumped in with both feet and seems interested in caring for Nate. Not what I anticipated.” What she didn’t know was how long it would last.

“That’s good, right?” her mother prompted.

“It is. I’m happy to be wrong about him, but…”

“But what, honey?” Her mother’s expression was worried.

“He told me he didn’t want to be a father,” Violet said, remembering Anderson’s immediate rejection of the idea. “He made that very plain the first day, so I’m afraid to trust his behavior now.”

Her mom was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “You know words aren’t always the best way for people to convey what’s inside them.”

“I do.” Her work had taught Violet that. People’s words weren’t always the truth, because words sprang from fear, passion, or a hundred other emotions. Actions were the better indicator of what was inside someone, what their true feelings were. Anderson’s actions had all indicated his ability to be a father.

But would he let himself be? That was a question she couldn’t answer.

“And what about his actions toward you?” Her mother’s tone was gentle.

The time in her bed suggested he was still attracted to her, but she didn’t know what that meant beyond physical pleasure. Could he give her more than that? She didn’t let herself imagine what shape that might take, because the temptation to believe they could be a normal, happy family was too great.

“He’s been good to me, too,” she admitted after a pause long enough for her mom to raise a questioning eyebrow. “Very good.”

After they talked a bit more, she disconnected. Her mom’s presence, even digitally, was always soothing. She was a practical, loving woman who had done her best by Violet. Violet knew she could follow her mom’s example and raise Nate on her own, but she wondered if that was her only option. Anderson might…

She stopped her thoughts there, since she couldn’t predict what he would do. Nevertheless, she felt good about the possibilities.

By eight that evening, any sense of harmony Violet possessed was shattered. Nate had been fine after his nap, but later in the afternoon, he turned fussy. At times, his cries became shrieks. He blew through diapers and outfits. She and Anderson took turns pacing the floor with him, skipping dinner altogether, while one of them took the baby and the other ran laundry and cleaned up the mess.

Violet called her pediatrician, who assured her that all babies have bad days, and it was probably teething or something mild, since Nate didn’t have a fever. The pediatrician promised to check in again in the morning. That was only marginally comforting, considering Nate’s obvious distress.

Finally too exhausted to cry any more, Nate rested his head against Violet’s shoulder and dropped into a sound sleep. From there, she managed to put him in his crib without waking him. She and Anderson waited, watching, until they were sure he was out, and then they retreated to the master bedroom. After flipping on the baby monitor, Violet sprawled on the bed in exhaustion, but Anderson paced the room.

“That was awful,” he said.

“But he’s okay, and it’s over.” She didn’t add that there would be other nights like this. That was the nature of parenting at times.

“I’m not cut out for it.” Anderson’s voice was low but emphatic.

“Cut out for what?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.

Anderson gave her a bewildered look. “Taking care of a kid, being a dad.”

“You did fine,” she argued, sitting up. Her senses told her that this conversation was critical for him—for all of them.

“You don’t know.” He stopped pacing and faced her. “You don’t know how close I came to walking out the door tonight.” His face was pained, anger vibrating off him. She controlled her reaction to his mood, knowing that his anger was self-directed. It had nothing to do with her or Nate.

“I think that’s a natural response to a crisis,” she said carefully. “Fight or flight. Since there was no one to fight, wanting to get away was normal.” She’d had those moments, too. Not this time, but a few months ago when Nate had been colicky and she’d been so tired.

“I’m trained to think differently,” Anderson said. “I know when to fight and when to retreat, and I’ve never gotten that wrong. I had no idea what to do in this situation. If you hadn’t been here, I…” His lips pressed into a straight line as if trying to hold in his emotions. “Look, I come from a long line of shitty fathers. Tonight proved to me that I’m no better than they were.”

She had to be very cautious about what she said next, so she took a minute. He seemed so lost, not at all what she was used to with him. He faced danger and difficulty with courage. She’d seen him do it. Fatherhood shouldn’t have the power to trip him up.

She held out her hand to him and waited as he exhaled a long breath before coming to her. When he sat next to her, she twisted her body to face him.

“I spent a lot of time analyzing what kind of dad you’d be, and I sold you short. I’ve watched you these past days with Nate. You’re good. You care for Nate, make him happy, and accept your part of the responsibility. Those are all fatherly qualities.”

He shook his head and averted his eyes. She needed to do more to convince him, because he was so capable of being a dad. She’d seen the evidence with her own eyes.

“Okay, take a look at it from a different angle. You’re cognizant of your failings, willing to admit that you were overwhelmed. Only people who are invested and dedicated to improving do that, because they know they aren’t perfect. But they want to be.” She hoped her argument made sense to him.

“You have your mom to show you what a mother should be, but—”

“You had no one,” she interrupted. He swung his gaze back to her. “You think I didn’t research you before we worked together in Moscow? Oh, I know about your family. Their dysfunction and how you pulled yourself out of that. You defied what some might have thought was your destiny. Our families, our genes don’t determine what we do or who we are. We do.” She tapped his chest. “You know that better than most. So it’s up to you whether you’ll be a good father or not.”

He focused on where their hands were still joined, and she let the silence play out, even though she desperately wanted to say more. This was up to him.

“I don’t know if I can be,” he said after several minutes.

She wanted to reiterate her confidence in him. She didn’t think he’d be able to hear it right then, so, she changed tactics. “Okay, can you keep helping me, at least? Doing what you’ve been doing?” That would be a start toward him taking a role in Nate’s life and, maybe, hers.

He nodded. “I’m trying to make things easier for you.”

“You’ve done that.” She smiled at him. “We already knew we made a good team.”

“We were successful,” he said, giving her a grin, “but it wasn’t always easy.”

She laughed, thinking of their conflicts in Russia. “Partly because we’re both bossy, and we wanted to rip each other’s clothes off.”

“That did create some tension.”

“It created Nate, too,” she said softly. Her darling boy wouldn’t be with them if the attraction between her and Anderson hadn’t been so great.

He didn’t respond in words but pulled her down on the bed and covered her body with his, starting a slow kiss. She relaxed as he kissed her lips and framed her face with his hands. His thumbs stroked over her cheeks.

“I should be too tired…” she whispered against his lips.

“Are you?” he asked, lifting his head.

“Not at all.” She lightly ran her fingers up his back. They didn’t bother to talk after that as they slowly shed their clothing and moved together. Loving and kissing were all-important right then, which made this different from their other encounters. There was no hurry, no need to prove anything, nothing but a building desire that brought them together in mind, heart, and body.

When he finally entered her, only pleasing each other mattered. They came together in an orgasm so joyful it brought tears to her eyes. While their bodies were still calming, he kissed her cheeks where the tears had run and she smiled at him, not having to explain that the tears didn’t come from sadness. He seemed to understand, and she’d never felt closer to anyone.

Afterward, they spooned together with his arms wrapped around her. With his body tight to hers, she dropped into a deep, contented sleep.