SEAL Daddy by Sofia T Summers
Jason
Driving through the suburbia of Virginia Beach, I wasn’t quite used to the quaint calm of residential life. I’d spent twenty months of the last two years abroad on missions. It took more than a few days to get re-adjusted to the rigamarole of civilian life, but I wasn’t going back. As soon as my superiors told me I was eligible for early retirement, I took it.
I had enough money invested and saved to be comfortable, even without the full retirement package. I knew the Navy could’ve gotten another ten years out of me. I’m sure my superiors were hoping to make me a commander one day, running one of the SEAL teams myself, but I was done with that life.
My gut told me it was time for something else. I just didn’t know what it was. Some of the guys suggested I take up a hobby or start a business. One petty officer suggested beekeeping for a laugh, but that joke was better than anything else I’d come up with.
No matter what I ended up doing, I first needed to learn how to be a civilian, and a backyard barbecue with some old friends seemed like a good start.
“Hey!” Adrian greeted me from the grill. “I wondered when you’d finally show.”
I went around to the back of the two-story colonial home to find my old college friend and a dozen others already sipping beers and mingling in the fenced backyard. A mature maple tree with scarlet leaves towered over the affair, scattering its leaves around the brick patio and flowering bushes that lined the back fence. Along the left side, two long tables were set up with their red-checkered tablecloths blowing in the afternoon breeze.
The first weekend of April was mild enough that I didn’t need a jacket with my white linen shirt and blue jeans. I could just enjoy the sunshine and the smell of grilled chicken mixing with fresh-cut grass. For a moment, it almost felt like summertime.
“It was nice of you to do this,” I offered with a pat on Adrian’s back.
“Well, this is what happens when you retire,” he replied jokingly, flashing his old pair of dimples. “People get together and give you a hard time. It’s called brotherly love.”
“Okay, can I get a drink before you start roasting me alongside the chicken?” I chuckled.
“Sure, there’s some beer and soda cans on ice over where Sam and Keith are playing cornhole, but don’t touch the cake. That’s for later.”
“Cake?”
I looked across the small yard to see a two-tiered cake decorated with chocolate frosting and fresh raspberries at the far end of the food tables. It wasn’t the grocery-store sheet cake I’d expected.
“Nicole made it as an apology,” Adrian answered before I could ask. “She was busy tonight.”
I’d half-expected Adrian to say she finally moved to New York. I was surprised when Nicole stuck around Norfolk. The last time Adrian and I talked, she had accepted a job at a local university in their English department. I didn’t understand what happened to her dreams of being a journalist, but what did I really understand about her?
We had just spent a few days and one evening together. Still, it didn’t stop me from listening to Tom Petty when I was deployed. I’d listen to the old folk music she once played in my Jeep, remembering her golden hair and sweet voice. Even in a sweltering and unforgiving desert, the memory of Nicole brought back the happiness of a classic American summer.
I didn’t admit it to myself, but I’d been hoping to see her again. My heart sank a little as I realized she wasn’t going to show up. Saying nothing, I went and got myself a beer, forgetting my disappointment with the taste of a malty lager.
It was good to see the others and catch up on old times. Wives ignored their husbands as all the ROTC buddies got into a corn hole tournament just like the ones we played in college. Partnered up with Adrian, we managed to win by the toss of one final bean bag. The whole party cheered, and Adrian consoled our weaker opponents with slices of chocolate cake.
As sunset cast a peachy glow over the party, I found Adrian again on the covered patio, sipping another beer and enjoying the country radio playing over his outdoor speakers. The market lights strung up in the old red maple were glowing more brightly. I admired their amber glow as I settled into the seat across from my old college roommate.
“I hope you tell Nicole everybody liked her cake,” I remarked casually. “It was a hell of a lot better than the stale cookie I ate on my actual birthday.”
Adrian chuckled, “You’ll miss that sort of stuff one day.”
“Do you?” I pressed.
“Oh hell no,” he scoffed with a smile. “That’s just what people keep telling me.”
Adrian ended his contract with the Navy years ago, and I’d never once seen him regret his decision. Even if life was less exciting running an insurance business, it meant he was around for his family. He was there to attend Nicole’s summer swim meets and hold his wife’s hand through her first and second battle with breast cancer. If I had two girls waiting for me at home, I probably would’ve returned to civilian life a lot sooner.
As I glanced over to my friend, I noticed there was the slightest downturn to his mouth. He was trying to hide it, but Adrian was pouting.
“Hey, what’s bothering you?” I finally had to ask.
“Oh,” he sighed. “I’m just bummed Nicole couldn’t make it. I wanted to show off Charlotte.”
“Charlotte?” I repeated, deeply confused.
Charlotte Davis was Adrian’s wife, but he couldn’t have meant her. She ended her battle with breast cancer over two years earlier. My eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“Nicole’s daughter,” Adrian quickly clarified. “I’ve told you about her.”
“No,” I corrected him. “You haven’t.”
I would have remembered if Nicole had a child. I’d remember because part of me already hated the guy who earned Nicole’s favor. I had no right to feel that way, but I couldn’t deny the tiniest bit of jealousy stirring in my chest.
“Sorry,” Adrian sighed. “I thought I had. We haven’t been able to talk much in the last couple of years. It’s hard to catch up over those satellite video chats they’ve got now.”
“It’s better than the crappy phones they had before,” I reminded him. “Sometimes, I’d hear more static than words when you’d call from a submarine.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Adrian chuckled before sipping his beer again.
“So, did Nicole get married or something? Or should I be expecting an invitation in the mail?”
“Christ, I wish,” he grumbled. “I’d even settle for a live-in boyfriend.”
My eyebrows knitting together in confusion, I had to ask, “What do you mean?”
My old friend sighed, “Nicole isn’t in any kind of relationship. She apparently met some guy at a party in Chapel Hill. She swears she never got his last name. I try not to dwell on too much these days. Lottie will be a year and a half old soon. It’s hard to imagine really. I still remember when she was just over five pounds with strawberry-milk skin. Now, she’s knee-high and toddling around like a girl on a mission.”
I knew Adrian was still boasting about his darling granddaughter, but I couldn’t hear him. My mind was too preoccupied with attempting math and understanding Charlotte’s age. If she was eighteen months old soon, she would’ve been born sometime two Octobers ago. If she was born in October, the little girl would’ve been conceived around January that year, but Nicole told me she’d never had sex before.
Had I just misunderstood? Could she have lied about our evening together being her first time? There were so many questions swirling around my head, but asking too many questions could reveal things I wasn’t ready to admit. Adrian didn’t know about that night. He still didn’t need to know as far as I knew.
If Nicole ever suspected I was the father, she would’ve reached out. Adrian had my contact information. She knew where I lived, even if I was only there for a little while these last couple of years. I knew my math didn’t add up to me being the father, but that didn’t stop a pit from forming in my stomach. It overwhelmed me to the point that I nearly missed when Adrian changed the subject.
“How’s that young petty officer of yours doing?” He asked solemnly.
“As well as he can be,” I sighed wearily. “His physical therapy is going well, and his family is very supportive. I called him yesterday. He sounded… optimistic.”
“I heard through some friends they’re considering giving you a bronze star.”
I swallowed hard. “I hope they don’t.”
In February, I led a convoy through the war-torn regions Syria had been just like any other afternoon. I’d done it hundreds, if not thousands, of times, but that didn’t prepare me for the whole vehicle quaking at the vibration of a land mine. The road to the base had been compromised, and the enemy attacked.
The events that followed became a blur of instinct and training, until I noticed one of my men bleeding out in the sand. I had to drag him out of harm’s way and carry him to safety. Still, I didn’t save all of him. He lost so much blood from his leg injury that they had to amputate. He was now a bionic man from his left knee down.
On a submarine, Adrian didn’t have to look his opponent in the eye. There was always the latent threat of danger, but it was never made real for him. Adrian didn’t have to look into another man’s eyes and wonder if he was going to shut them forever.
“I understand why you might not feel like you earned it,” Adrian sympathized. “But I’ll bet his family feels differently. You can still hug your children with half of a leg missing. His wife didn’t become a widow.”
“I know,” I agreed reluctantly.
I’d grappled with the emotions surrounding that event for weeks, but they were all overwhelmed with this new information laid out before me. Nicole had a daughter, and the father of that child was nowhere to be found. Even if it didn’t add up, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering.
I thought about calling Nicole, but I wasn’t sure I had her number. I knew she lived about fifteen minutes from my house in Newport News. Still, I didn’t know exactly where her place was.
I figured if I looked at the little girl just once, I’d be able to tell if she was mine. They said babies looked like their fathers to help encourage bonding, but I didn’t think that lasted into seventeen months. Still, part of me imagined that I would be able to know.
My gut would determine what the facts weren’t telling me. I only needed to see Nicole and her child one time. If I really couldn’t be Charlotte’s father, then I’d leave them both alone forever.
