The SEAL's Baby. Rogenna Brewer
known him for more than one night. Well enough to know he didn’t want children. Just the same it hurt to hear him say it out loud.
“Nothing?” her sister asked over the stroller she rocked back and forth.
Hannah stole a glance at her daughter. She’d dressed Fallon in a cute pink sailor dress and hat for the festivities. Her eyes were still shut tight. Otherwise McCaffrey would have seen how much they looked like his own. “Okay, so maybe he meant something to me once. But from now on he’s just the sperm donor.”
“You have to tell him. If you’ve been waiting for the right opportunity—”
“That opportunity has long since passed. It would be different if I were still a civilian. But no good can come from telling him now. Or anyone else for that matter.”
This was another one of those gray areas.
She’d be better off letting her military co-workers believe, as most of her civilian co-workers did, that she was a thirty-three-year-old woman tired of waiting for Mr. Right, so she’d decided to have a baby on her own. Somehow it seemed more acceptable than the truth.
She’d made a mistake. She’d taken responsibility. She didn’t need McCaffrey to do his duty. Because the truth was she was a thirty-three-year-old woman who’d given up on finding Mr. Right a long time ago. Which didn’t mean she was going to settle for Commander Wrong.
If McCaffrey had thought enough of her and their one night together to keep in touch, maybe they would have had a chance to work something out.
That works both ways. His challenge echoed.
She’d started so many letters during her pregnancy, all crumpled after a line or two. Aside from being at a loss for words, she could admit that stubborn pride had kept her from finishing even a single note. She’d wanted him to make the first move.
He’d made his move today.
After an invitation he’d thought she’d sent.
And long after she’d sent him the watch. She now regretted that impulse. In a moment of weakness, she’d dropped the watch into the mailbox. She’d been at the post office mailing Fallon’s birth announcements. The announcement she intended for him never made it into the box. But the clues were there if, and that was a big if, he chose to decipher them. Then what?
“Even sperm donors have some say in the matter,” Sammy said with such a look of pity Hannah had to wonder how long she’d been lost in her own thoughts.
“I can’t deal with this right now. Fallon needs changing. And I need to get over to the O Club where I’m sure an impatient photographer is waiting.”
“I’ll change Fallon,” Sammy offered.
“I’ve got her. I’ll just be a minute.” Hannah picked up the reassuring weight of her daughter. Wrestling the stroller single-handed, she headed toward her office inside Hangar Nine. “He didn’t mean it,” she whispered with her cheek pressed against the baby’s, although she wasn’t quite sure which one of them needed reassuring. She felt an ache in her breast that had nothing to do with her milk letting down.
Fallon rooted for a nipple, settling on those ribbons above Hannah’s heart. Putting on the uniform did make Hannah feel different. But honor, courage and commitment to the core values of the Navy didn’t make her heartless or mean she had anything less to give her daughter. In many ways it meant she was willing to give her daughter more.
“Enough now. Auntie Sammy already fed you.”
After Fallon had been born, Hannah had considered contacting McCaffrey through third-party notification. His command, her command, even his family would have been able to send him a Health and Welfare message through the American Red Cross. But did she really want him hearing that he was a father through a SOPA?
Chances were, as CO, he’d have seen the message even before the chaplain had a chance to soften the blow. What would his reaction have been? What if he’d been in a hot zone? Would he have been able to do his duty without distraction? Would he have even got the message?
There were too many unknown variables. With time they’d turned into obstacles.
Pride wasn’t the only thing that had kept her from tracking him down. Doubts about his desire to be a father had crept in. The fact that she knew he’d do his duty regardless only hurt her more. And then Fallon had been born, and Hannah felt the overwhelming need to protect her daughter. Fallon didn’t need a father who’d be in and out of her life so often he’d cease to exist even in her memories.
The single cloudy memory Hannah had of her own father was of him leaving. Her daughter deserved more.
Just as she reached the door to her office, the cell phone in the diaper bag started ringing. Hannah propped the door open with the stroller and grabbed for the phone.
She picked up at the same time she settled Fallon on the couch in her office. “Hello?” She sat down angled toward her daughter and continued to dig in the bag for the necessary diaper and wipes.
“Hannah, it’s Peter.”
“Is everything all right?”
“You mean aside from the fact this project is falling apart without you? We need you, Hannah. I need you.”
“You don’t need me, Peter. You only think you do.”
“I’m a rocket scientist, not a manager. You know I don’t know which way is up without you.”
“You’ll do fine. You have good people working for you—”
“I lost my glasses yesterday. And today I lost my spare.”
“Look up…on top of your head.”
He clicked his tongue, apparently finding them right where she’d said they’d be. “That just proves my point. I need you. Maybe you could fly back for the weekend?”
“Peter—”
“Just for the weekend—”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“I thought you might say that.”
She felt annoyed with him for even asking. She’d cut her maternity leave short to minimize the effect of her longer military absence on the company. He didn’t understand that, at least temporarily, she was no longer available to him. By law he had to hold her job for her. As a friend there was no question that he would. If there was a company to go back to. With so many reservists deploying, it impacted small businesses and big-city police forces alike. She was Peter’s Gal Friday. He counted on her. “If you’re that desperate maybe—”
“I’ve already booked a flight.”
“I was going to say, maybe you could e-mail the proposal, and I could find some time to look it over.” What was she saying? What time? “Peter—”
“Did you get the flowers?”
Hannah was busy peeling the tabs on the clean diaper she’d managed to wrestle under Fallon’s bare bottom, but she wedged the phone between her neck and shoulder and looked around the office. There was a bouquet on her desk. One more wedding item. “Yes.”
“And?” he prompted.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, folding the poopy diaper and stashing it in a plastic bag for later disposal. She’d have to pick up a Diaper Genie for her office. Maybe bring in a portable playpen and some toys… What was she thinking? It wasn’t like she’d be bringing Fallon to the office every day or even be here herself. With less than seventy-two hours’ notice she could be anywhere in the world. Including the latest hot zone.
“You haven’t read the card, have you?”
“No, I’m sorry.” She cleaned her hands with a baby wipe. “I’ve been…busy—”
“I