Thanksgiving Daddy. Rachel Lee
dropped his hand and stepped to the side. Only Marge hindered her now, and the woman’s gaze was pleading. “I can’t stop you, but I wish you’d stay. If you won’t, promise you’ll at least keep in touch with us.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Then she eased past Marge and started toward her car again. It was amazing, she thought, how good she felt to have this off her back now. Done. Finished. Now she could move on.
She had just reached her car when she heard, “Edie, wait.”
She wanted to open that door, get in and peel out of here. Squealing tires would feel good right about now. But as quickly as the light feeling had filled her, it began to seep away. Maybe she wasn’t done here.
“Edie, please.”
She turned slowly and faced Seth. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said quietly. “Not one damn thing. I can manage. I just had this conviction that I needed to let you know. I don’t want anything from you, so I’m going.”
“Wait,” he said again, and approached slowly. “I wasn’t mad at you,” he said. His tone wasn’t conciliatory, but firm. Not pleading. What she would have expected of a SEAL. In command, even now. “I was mad at myself. Please listen.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s plenty to say. I was mad at myself, not you. I screwed up. I didn’t take good care of you.”
She shrugged. “Condoms have a certain percentage of failure. Not your fault. Nobody’s fault.”
“But...” He hesitated. “Don’t go. Not yet. I swear I won’t keep you too long, but we need to talk.”
“About what, Seth? That we made a mistake? That’s a given. I’m actually kind of happy that it happened, now that I’m used to the idea. So I’ll be fine. We’re done here.”
“We’re not done. Not at all. I have a child on the way, too. Don’t you at least owe me the consideration to discuss it?”
She realized she was starting to feel ornery and pressured, neither of which would do any good. She could either get in the car and leave, or she could stay a little longer to discuss it.
It wasn’t helping that she still felt the same attraction to him that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She tore her gaze from him and looked away, past houses to the looming purple mountains in the distance. Vaguely, she thought it was pretty here.
She supposed she owed it to him. The thought seemed to come from far away, but soon it was at the forefront of her mind. Owed it to him to discuss it. Owed it to the baby growing inside her to at least give his father a chance to be part of his life. But what did she owe herself?
That seemed to be taking a backseat. Maybe, with a child in the picture, it always would.
“Mom and Dad will leave us alone,” he said. “If Mom gets too managing, we can go over to my place. But at least stay long enough to talk.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Just a talk.”
“Just a talk,” he agreed. “I need to absorb this, then we can discuss what I can do. Maybe how much of a dad I can be. I don’t want you to just walk away with everything up in the air.”
Everything up in the air? Just as she was feeling the situation had been settled, he was saying that? Well, she supposed it was, for him.
She shoved her keys back into her pocket and walked back toward the house beside him. Maybe the hard part was done. Maybe the conversation would be easy and civilized. And maybe they did need to talk. She had come all the way out here to give him the news for the sake of her child. Maybe this was something more she owed to the kid.
And that was a whole lot of maybes. She stifled a sigh. Apparently she had been wrong to think that simply delivering the news would settle everything.
Well, it might still. Nothing at all might come out of this conversation.
Marge and Nate were just inside the door. Marge beamed and announced that she would start dinner for all of them, then get a guest room ready. She buzzed away. Edie, who hadn’t agreed to stay that long, felt her stomach sink.
“Don’t mind her,” Nate said with a faint smile. “Cooking makes her feel good. You two do what you want.”
“We want a place to talk, or I can take her over to my place.”
All of a sudden Marge poked her head into the room. “Seth! You can’t take her to your place. It’s a mess!”
Seth sighed and shook his head. “Mom, I’ve seen where Edie’s been and I’ve seen what she can handle. It’s far worse than my renovation mess. Before you try to start mothering, remember this—this woman flies into heavy fire to pull out people like me. She’s perfectly capable of managing her own life.”
Marge blinked. “Oh.” Then she managed a smile. “You’re right, of course. Once a mother, always a mother. I can’t seem to stop.”
She vanished into her kitchen again. Nate eyed his son. “Be gentle with your mother, Seth. There’s a lot she can’t imagine, and I’d like her to stay that way.”
“I get it, Dad. But Edie extracted my team under some withering fire. I won’t have her disrespected.”
“It’s not disrespect,” Nate said. Then he turned to Edie. “Stay or go as you please. You’re welcome here.” Then he vanished into the kitchen after his wife.
“Wow,” Edie said quietly, feeling a little warmer toward Seth after the way he had spoken for her.
“My dad was a Green Beret in Vietnam,” Seth said. “I think there’s a lot he’s never told her.”
“Wise,” said Edie. She was of the school, so much like what Seth had said, that believed there was no good reason to strip away innocence. You talked to others who had been there, or not at all.
“We can talk here in the living room, in the family room or one of the bedrooms,” Seth said.
“Where’s most private?”
“Anywhere, right now. Dad just went to ensure it.”
She opted for the living room. She didn’t want to get in any deeper, and she knew where the exit was.
She sat on the couch again, and Seth took a chair facing her. He still looked good enough to eat, she thought irrelevantly, then caught herself. This was not the time, although it helped her remember how she had gotten herself into this fix. A short period of weakness and desire had changed her whole life. And now his, evidently.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“I was.” His mouth drooped a little. “Twice. Darlene bailed because she couldn’t handle my lifestyle and absences. She’s married to a rancher out here now. I married again a few years later. God, I loved that woman.”
“What happened?”
“A drunk driver hit her when she was on her way back from parent meetings at school. I lost her.”
Even as she felt a sickening pang for him, she also felt relieved. Contradictory emotions. “So I’m not wrecking a marriage.”
“God, no. There’s just me, and no kids. Until now.” He sat back in the chair, crossing his legs loosely, and regarded her steadily. “I was a big loser on the relationship thing in my first marriage, but so far I haven’t screwed up being a father. Whatever we decide, whatever you decide, I’m glad you told me.”
“So you’re not questioning you’re the father?” She was surprised to realize that the worry had been plaguing her. As if it mattered, given the decisions she had already made.
He appeared surprised. “Why would I? I may have