Thanksgiving Daddy. Rachel Lee
clothes and looked at her profile in the mirror, running her hands over her growing “baby bump.” Smooth, not too big yet, although she was assured that was about to rapidly change. “Carrying high,” one of her friends had termed it, meaning, she guessed, that she wasn’t expanding outward much yet.
But her waist had certainly vanished. The changes could still catch her by surprise.
Quickly she buttoned her pants and tugged the voluminous shirt down. In the mirror she saw a woman with red hair and blue eyes, who looked tired and a little messy. Hell, she didn’t even have a comb handy. Everything was out in the car.
She ran her fingers through her short hair and tried to make it lie down. A bit of water helped.
And that, she thought, looking at herself, was about all she was going to be able to do. Not inspection-ready, but looking more like she’d just finished a mission.
Oh, well.
Seth was waiting in the hall, leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms folded. He smiled a little when he saw her. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“They don’t bite, and I pretty much told Mom to lay off. I hope you like roast chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Did you get to be picky about food?”
“Not since I joined the navy.”
“Exactly.”
They shared a laugh, not something she was sure she really wanted to do, but it happened. Truce time. Not that there had been a war. Yet.
Dinner was surprisingly relaxed after all that had come before. Nate regaled them with some funny stories from his years as sheriff, keeping the mood light and pressure-free.
When Edie commented on all the hand drawn and colored turkeys on the wall, Marge explained she had kept all her daughters’ drawings, and put these up every year in the autumn.
“I also have their Halloween drawings, but those are in the den, if you want to see them. And then after Thanksgiving, I bring out the Christmas drawings.” Marge beamed.
“Six girls make an awful lot of drawings,” Nate remarked. He winked at his wife, who laughed.
“Boxes of them,” she agreed. “It’s a good thing we have a big attic.”
“And enough wall space to put them on,” Nate drawled.
Seth spoke. “But think of all the wallpapering you’ve escaped.”
The three of them all laughed.
Edie was charmed despite herself. She had an unexpected image of keeping a trunk full of such things from her own child. This was the first time she had even dared to look that far down the road of motherhood.
Edie offered to help with dishes afterward, but Marge shooed her out, and Nate remained to help.
Once again, the offer of a room was made. She wasn’t ready to accept it, though, so she left it by saying, “I’ll think about it.”
“I should warn you,” Seth said as he followed her back to the living room, “that the only motel we have in this town would make Bagram look like the Ritz. You don’t want to try to drive back tonight.”
No, she didn’t, but she was unwilling to commit to even a night. At least he didn’t press her. Indeed, he seemed to be working very hard not to press her in any way.
Something to be grateful for. In fact, maybe there was a whole lot to be grateful for.
She settled again on the sofa and put her feet up. “Are you sure you don’t want to take those boots off?” he asked.
She just knew that if she took them off she wouldn’t get them back on tonight. The question was whether she wanted to risk walking out of here barefoot. The answer was no. Experience had taught her to keep her boots on unless she was safely at home.
He sat facing her again, this time with his elbows on his splayed knees. Relaxed, yet not. For a moment she wished she could just close her eyes and fall back to sleep. Dinner had given her a sense of contentment that was rapidly vanishing. Tension steadily crept into the air.
“Tell me about it,” he said quietly. “How you found out, how you felt.”
“That’s huge.”
“Take your time. I’d like to know.”
She hesitated, then said bluntly, “I think I knew at some level right away.”
“Really?”
“Well, I always used to finish off a mission with a meal and a couple of drinks. I never drank again after that night. I told myself it was because I needed to stay out of any more trouble.”
“That would make sense.” He stirred a little, but his gaze never wavered. “I also suspect you guessed. I’ve heard my sisters say they knew almost to the moment, before they were even sure.”
“Well, maybe something happens fast. I don’t know. I just lost all desire to wind down with a drink.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Whatever. When I missed my period, I thought it was stress. But I knew, Seth. Somehow I knew. I did a great job of denial.”
“I can imagine.”
He probably could. Only she hadn’t given him the opportunity to do that. He waited, and finally she decided to tell him more.
“When I missed my second period, I felt like I’d been hit over the head. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted to ignore it, but...well, even as I was getting mad, and having wild urges to run away from reality, I couldn’t ignore it. Even when I couldn’t stand the thought I felt like I had to do what was right for the kid. That meant seeing the doc.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t explain. I was seriously mixed up for a while, bouncing between fury and despair. I was taking prenatal vitamins and trying to tell myself it wasn’t true. I look back at it and hate myself.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s not me. I don’t run from things. I deal with them.”
“Blame it on shock.”
“Yeah.” She gave an unsteady laugh. “I was still in shock when they grounded me and sent me home. I could have still done the job, you know.”
“I’m sure you could have.”
Again her hand came to rest on her swelling belly. “What’s best for the kid. That stress wouldn’t have been good.”
“It really shook up your life.”
“Top to bottom.” No point in denying it. “Everything changed, and it changed fast. Well, except for the emotional roller coaster. And the morning sickness. It took a while for that to pass.”
“Was it bad?”
“Awful, for a while. And you might as well paint it on a billboard when you show up for duty every morning with soda crackers.”
At that he smiled faintly. “Oops.”
“Yeah.” She shook the tension from her shoulders. “I needed a while to face it all. I kept looking for ways to get around it. Ways I could manage my career and a kid. The two aren’t going to mesh well.”
She looked beyond him, into the past, knowing she was minimizing the turmoil she’d endured as she adjusted. “I felt betrayed,” she admitted. “Not by you, but by my body. God, how many women get pregnant from one time, when a condom is being used? The doc wasn’t sympathetic to that argument. He just said flatly, ‘It happens. Condoms aren’t failure-proof.’ He said next time I should be on the pill.” She shook her head. “Next time? There wasn’t even supposed to be a first time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.