The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

5

Violet rolled over in the still-dark hotel room and listened to Nate’s steady breathing. All the child-rearing books said not to have a baby in bed with you, and she could see why that was. She’d been so worried about accidentally hurting him in the night that she’d hardly slept.

He'd woken once to be fed, but other than that he’d been peaceful. Unlike her. She hated where she’d left things with Anderson. But she wasn’t surprised. She had hoped he’d welcome fatherhood, but she hadn’t expected him to. Not really. She’d let hope color her assessment, but in her heart, she’d known the truth. She’d been right about him. Good for her. But it didn’t make her feel the least bit vindicated or happy.

She’d thought, not very rationally, that Anderson would meet Nate and something would click, an instant bond would form between father and son. She’d felt the connection to her child the second she saw a positive symbol on the pregnancy test. And when she’d seen the image of his face at her first ultrasound, she’d fallen in love. Not that she hadn’t been frightened at the prospect of having a baby. She had been, but she’d also wanted the child.

None of that was there for Anderson, and she couldn’t force it. He’d fathered Nate. At least he hadn’t denied that, but he couldn’t love his son. God, that made her sad.

She pushed herself up so her back rested against the headboard. The bedside clock read six. A lamp on the other side of the room clicked on low, and Anderson stood. She wasn’t surprised that he was awake. He seemed to always be on alert. That quality must come with his job. Their eyes met across the room.

“Sorry about last night,” she said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to snap at you for being honest about your feelings for Nate.”

“It’s not that I don’t care what happens to him. It’s just that…” He walked closer. “I’ll help you out financially. The Navy will set it up. I know they do for other guys. They’ll direct deposit part of my pay to your account. And if you ever need anything else, just let me know.”

Violet felt annoyance at his offer of child support. Did he think that was her motivation for involving him? Even in part? “I don’t want your money,” she said. “My income is plenty to take care of Nate and me.” As an analyst, her salary was likely higher than Anderson’s. If she switched to the private sector, she could easily double her annual income. Money wasn’t the issue.

“Still, it’s the decent thing to do,” he mumbled, looking down at her.

She wanted to argue that decent would be giving her emotional support and loving their son. Money had nothing to do with decency in this situation. But Anderson seemed incapable of understanding that. When she’d first been partnered with him, she’d done some digging about his background. She knew he was an only child with no relationship with his parents. Their backgrounds were murky; the only records she’d found were criminal. So she wasn’t surprised that he had no sense of family… but it still hurt her.

“Please. Don’t bother. Really,” she said, swinging her legs to the floor. “I’m going to get moving. If you could take me to where this car is waiting, I’ll go on from there solo.”

“Not a good idea.” His tone, which had seemed uncertain, was suddenly firm. “I put some things in motion during the night.”

“With Rogers?” she asked.

“He’s got a place for us to stay,” Anderson said. “It’s in Tennessee. It’ll take us the better part of the day to drive there, but it’s a house in a quiet suburb where we can go… unnoticed.”

In other words, they’d look like a young couple with a baby, which wouldn’t attract attention. All appearances would point to them being a family.

“Does he have temporary identities for us, too?” None of this would work if they were using their real names and credit cards.

“He’s working on it,” Anderson said with a glance at Nate, who was starting to wiggle.

“Rogers must be a good friend,” she commented as she reached for Nate and lifted him into her lap. He was still warm and cuddly from sleep. She loved mornings with him.

“Being a SEAL is a brotherhood,” Anderson said. He watched their son but made no attempt to reach for him.

His comment, though, made it clear that Anderson did understand family. He’d forged those bonds with his fellow SEALs. Why wouldn’t he take the time to build one with his own son? It mystified her, but she couldn’t get upset about it. Not again.

“I’m thankful he’s willing to help,” she said. “I thought about it more overnight. The pieces of this puzzle don’t click together. Too much is missing, and I’m not feeling like I can trust the agency to assist us.”

“Go with your gut,” Anderson said. “It’s usually right. We should get moving.”

Three hours later, Violet was ready to tear her hair out. Anderson kept hitting the preset buttons on his car stereo, sending them on a chaotic journey between classic rock, country, and reggae. She’d known he was a complicated man, but his music choices made her look for a stronger descriptor. He never settled on one style for long, and they seemed at odds with each other. Was that a reflection of his internal self?

When he hit a button that took them to contemporary jazz, she couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Any chance I can command the radio?” she asked, trying for a joking tone.

He shook his head. “Driver’s choice. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?” she asked.

He glanced at her, surprise on his face. “The rule of all road trips.”

Her experience with road trip music was somewhat different. If she traveled with her mom, it was Broadway hits. With girlfriends, pop music pumped from the stereo. Both of those choices were mutual, not dictatorial. Lately, she’d been listening to music meant to enhance child development, but Nate wasn’t picky. He seemed to like anything. He’d babbled along in the back seat through Anderson’s changes in genre.

“I’m not familiar with that rule. But if that’s how it works, I’d be happy to drive for a while,” she said, certain that he’d say no. In her experience, men liked to stay in control of the wheel.

“Sure,” he said and pulled off at the next rest area.

Before she started driving, she flipped through the options on the radio and found one dedicated to pop music from the past ten years. Perfect. She liked it, though she figured Anderson wouldn’t. She merged back into traffic as the music played. The familiar songs were good background for her thoughts and a way to sort through the chaos of the past day. So much had happened since she’d waited nervously on Anderson’s doorstep with Nate in her arms to tell him that he had a son.

Here they were on the run together in uncomfortable silence. If they were going to masquerade as a family, some of the tension had to go. They were both good actors when it came to espionage, but she couldn’t live on edge for however long it took to resolve this. She needed to bridge the gap between them, at least temporarily, so they could work as a team again.

She glanced over at him. He was tapping along to the rhythm of Nickelback’s “Gotta Be Somebody.” Pretty soon, she heard him joining in on the chorus. What the heck—she knew the lyrics, too. They sang the refrain together.

He gave her a glance and an unexpected grin when she danced in her seat and kept the rhythm with her fingertips on the steering wheel. This was fun, almost like a real road trip. They joined voices on the next verse.

She’d never thought much about the meaning of the song, just enjoyed the beat and the video as a teenager, but now she wondered if the words about how there was a person for everyone out there held some truth that she’d missed at sixteen. The lead vocalist sang the final lines, and a moment later a different song began.

“I’ve always liked that one,” Anderson said.

“Me, too,” she agreed. “It reminds me of being in high school.”

“Is that a good memory?”

“Some of it.” They hadn’t been the greatest days of her life, but overall the experience had been good. “My friends and I had a lot of fun.”

“I’ll bet you were a serious student,” he said.

“Had to be.” She’d taken all the advanced classes her school offered. “My mom expected nothing less, but she also got that I was a kid and wanted to enjoy a carefree life while I could. I think… I think she understood that more than most parents, since she raised me by herself.”

“Has to be hard,” he commented, “being a single mom.”

“I’ve only had a taste of it, but there have been times when it would have been nice to be able to hand Nate off to someone.” A few late nights stuck out in her head, times she’d paced the floor with the baby for hours and couldn’t get him to settle. “He was colicky at two months.”

“Colicky?” Anderson questioned the unfamiliar word.

“Yeah, no one knows what causes it, exactly”—she’d done enough research to confirm that—“but some babies just cry and cry and cry, and you can’t soothe them. That was a rough few weeks. I’m not complaining, though. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

“Nate has someone to love him and have his life in their hands, like the song says. That’s good.” Anderson’s voice had turned serious.

“I don’t think the lyrics refer to moms and babies. The song’s about finding the right person to love and trust.” She’d never worried about that much, never obsessed about a guy the way her friends had. Maybe it was her upbringing, but she’d never imagined the big moment of finding true love, marrying, and following the path of kids and carpools. Instead, she’d focused on college and career. Guys were a nice distraction when she wanted a friend with benefits, but she’d never taken any of them seriously.

“The song could be applied to anyone,” Anderson said with a shrug.

“Maybe. If that’s the case, who is it for you?” she asked, not really sure of his reaction. Would he answer her or clam up? It was an interesting experiment. Did Anderson Park talk about his feelings? Had he ever wished someone was out there for him?

The pause was long as Lady Gaga sang and Nate gurgled in the back seat. Violet let the silence extend. If Anderson chose not to respond, she’d leave it alone.

“I had two good friends in high school,” he said finally. “Patrick and Kenton. In a lot of ways, we were nothing alike. Different backgrounds. But we stuck together—played football and ran track. After graduation, they both went to the Naval Academy, and I enlisted by the usual route.”

“I thought you went to Monterey,” she said. All branches of the military used the Department of Defense’s language institute to train language experts. Anderson spoke multiple languages, a skill that had gotten them placed together in Russia.

“I did,” he said. “I got sent there after basic. I learned Russian first and then stayed on for Arabic.”

She wanted to laugh. He said it casually, but the intensive immersive language program was anything but casual. The fact that he’d studied two languages there was almost unheard of.

“So you stayed friends with these guys?” she prompted, hoping to keep him talking.

“Yeah, we managed to get in the same SEAL class. Did our training together.”

“But you weren’t on the same team?” It was unusual for three guys who knew each other to be placed together on those teams. She’d worked with enough Special Forces units to be aware of that.

“We are,” he said, surprising her, “but occasionally one of us gets shifted around, like when we were in Russia. And then Patrick took a leave to deal with family issues. I’m looking forward to serving with them again soon.”

“So they’re your somebody?” she concluded.

“Yeah. I don’t need anyone else.” He sounded distracted, so she glanced at him. His eyes were focused on the side mirror.

“What is it?” she asked, suddenly aware of his tension.

“SUV behind us,” he said.

“It’s been back there for a couple miles.” She’d seen it in her mirror, but since they were on a busy highway, she hadn’t thought anything of it—and she’d been distracted by their conversation.

“The dent in the bumper. Maryland plates.” He ticked off the details. “That’s the vehicle that was outside my house yesterday.”

“What?” She sat up straighter in her seat, her eyes shifting between the mirrors as often as she looked forward. The evasive driving training she’d received ran through her head. She’d employed some of that in recent weeks, but this was different. The stakes were higher now that these guys had taken aggressive action.

“We need to lose him,” Anderson said. “Get off at the next exit. Just casually, like nothing’s wrong.”

She switched into the right lane and waited the mile until she could leave the highway. “What’s your plan?” she asked, keeping her voice level.

“Just do what I ask,” he said as they approached the end of the exit ramp. “Okay, gun it and get back on the highway.”

She did what he said, punching the accelerator and merging back onto the highway. The black SUV that had followed her onto the exit had to wait for cross traffic, giving her a little time but—when it reappeared behind her—confirming that they were being followed.

“Go to the far-left lane,” Anderson instructed, pivoting in his seat. “And keep it moving.”

Their speed increased until it was twenty over the posted limit. The black SUV was trying to catch up. A truck swung into her lane just ahead of her, forcing her to brake.

“Pass on the right,” Anderson said.

She squeezed in, cutting off another truck, and pushed the pedal to the floor.

“Good. Take the next exit. It’s in a half mile. Maybe there’ll be a gas station or fast food place we can pull into and be less visible for a few minutes.”

She changed lanes again, saying a silent apology to the vehicles around her for her erratic driving. This time, when she exited, she blew the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp, took a sharp left, and pulled up under the bridge so the highway traffic couldn’t see her as it passed overhead.

“Nice tactic,” Anderson said. “You’ve done this before.”

“I’ve had some training,” she said, pleased with herself for staying calm.

“Yeah? I thought you were all about running the data.”

“There’s a practical side to what I do, too.” The basic evasive techniques course had been mandatory for any agents who worked in the field, but she’d gone back for a more advanced one.

“You mean defensive,” he said, his tone revealing admiration. “I think we lost them, but they won’t be fooled for long.” He tapped the navigation screen on his dashboard. “We need an alternate route, which is going to add time to our drive.”

Hopefully it’ll keep us safe, she added silently. She’d been in dangerous spots before, but having Nate with them changed how she reacted. She settled in to drive, following the new directions provided by the system, while Anderson made a phone call, presumably to Rogers. An hour later they transferred Nate and what little they had with them into an SUV crossover that was perfect for living in the suburbs before getting back on the road.