7. Alex
7
ALEX
“ C onsider it,” Colin said over the phone two days later. “It’s a hell of an opportunity.”
“I will,” I replied. A job, one I was uniquely qualified for, had just opened up at the security firm where Colin worked. I had checked in with Colin to see if he’d uncovered any intel on Bruce, but the possibility of a civilian job was another topic altogether. It had my wheels turning, taking me in an unexpected direction.
“I’ll keep digging.” Colin’s words brought me back to the problem at hand.
“Thanks, and be careful,” I said before hanging up. I didn’t need to remind my brother to be cautious. We all were by nature, and the situation had us adding an extra layer of vigilance. I supposed the others had told their wives about the potential danger. That was their choice; I’d made a different one. Not that Soledad was my wife. Far from it.
I blew out a breath, not letting myself get sidetracked with thoughts about my relationship with Soledad. The threat that hung over us was far more important. Bruce was off the grid, no sign of him anywhere despite, all of our searches. To anyone else, that might seem like positive news, but it only heightened my worry. Bruce was up to something, and I couldn’t guess what. Not knowing left me feeling vulnerable, a sensation I despised.
Vulnerability only exacerbated my restlessness. The sense of being caged was not unusual for me. I spent most of my life feeling like a spring about to shoot off. I’d learned to control that spring under the Admiral’s tutelage and through years of military training, but it coiled, waiting to be released.
I needed to take the edge off. Fresh air and a trip through the landscape I was creating in the backyard might do that. Soledad and Luke were out there, too. I pushed aside the realization that time spent with them helped unwind the spring as well. Moreover, any soothing effect of their presence was wiped away when I remembered the mess I’d made of my relationship with Soledad—on top of the danger I’d put them in. I scrubbed a hand over my face as I exited the house into my burgeoning garden with too many things on my mind.
I paused in the doorway, hands on hips, to appreciate what I’d accomplished. I’d planted evergreen shrubs and ornamental trees in the yard but stuck to potted perennials for color. If I opted not to re-enlist, I could put the plants in the ground anytime during the growing season. If I stayed in the service and deployed on a mission, I could give the plants away, pots and all.
Or maybe Soledad would want them for wherever she moved to. I wanted to give her something. A sense of loss at the idea of parting with her filled me. And I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she left. I’d caught her combing the “apartments for rent” section of the newspaper.
She was planning to move out soon. Imagining my home without her and Luke in it left a hollowness in my chest that was worse than the vulnerability I couldn’t shake. Both sucked, and I couldn’t control either. When Soledad made up her mind, there was no stopping her. And I had no right to try. She had her own life to live, and, as painful as it would be, I would have to let her go. We would work something out about sharing custody of Luke.
My son would be with me part time—I knew Soledad wouldn’t deny me that—so I didn’t regret the sunshade I’d stretched between the back-porch roof and the fence. It would still get use. I paused to look at Soledad, stretched full length on a blanket in the grass under it, Luke next to her, while Frankie ran after a butterfly in the yard.
The thought crossed my mind that, to a casual observer, this would look like an ideal life. An independent, vivacious woman, a healthy child, a good home, and even a friendly dog. Despite the tableau before me, I knew that life wasn’t really mine and never would be. At most, I was borrowing it. Soledad was bound to move on, find someone who could give her the home and family she clearly wanted. That someone wasn’t me, but I doubted she’d have any trouble finding a replacement. She was amazing—what kind of idiot wouldn’t want to be with her? I hated the guy already, just imagining him with her…but that happy ending was what she deserved. As for me, I’d have my son, but, for the first time ever, some part of me wanted it all. The unattainable fantasy hung in front of me—even as I knew I had no right to it.
I was still thinking that when Soledad lifted her head and smiled at me. I went toward her, hoping for more than I had any right to. We’d loved each other once—or so I’d thought. I’d never said the words to her, though, since I’d been unable to put that much trust in another person. She’d said them more than once, and I’d disappointed her each time by not giving them back to her. But it wasn’t in me to allow that kind of emotional attachment, no matter how much I wanted to. She was sunshine and light, as buoyant as the hot-air balloons she loved so much. I was…not her antithesis, not darkness and hate, but skepticism and caution ruled what I did.
“I’m glad you came out,” she said, giving me hope that the frost between us had thawed. I’d take some friendly banter since that was about the best that I could hope for. “I need to run inside for a minute,” she went on. “Can you stay with Luke? He’s so happy out here that I don’t want to move him.” She climbed to her feet, her shorts and tank top showing off her athletic body.
“Sure,” I responded automatically, keeping my expression neutral as I put aside the letdown I felt. I’d been thinking serious thoughts about us, and she wanted nothing more from me than a bathroom break. I supposed I should be grateful she trusted me with Luke, but I couldn’t help wanting more than an arrangement that cared for our son.
“I won’t be long,” she said. She was close enough that her long hair brushed my shoulder as she passed me, and her scent lingered on the warm air. I had to steel myself not to succumb to either.
When I heard the back door close, I lay down next to Luke, who was contentedly staring up at the sky.
“Hey, buddy,” I said softly and got a friendly gurgle from my boy, which was a gift I’d never known I’d wanted. I had never understood why my fellow SEALs with kids were so eager to return from missions. They angled for earlier flights and tried to fast-track the debriefings. Their actions had annoyed me in the past. I got it now.
Fatherhood gave me a new perspective, but it was a hell of a ride. Just seeing Luke’s sweet face, so like his mother’s even though he had my coloring, made my heart warm—but in the next second, my soul could freeze with fear. And it wasn’t only this business with Bruce that caused my trepidation. The idea of being a dad was full of pitfalls. I supposed that was true for everyone, but I’d grown up with a poor excuse for a father and no mother that I could remember except in the vaguest way. It was more the sudden absence I’d felt when she left than anything. And then my father…
I struggled to brush aside the memories. I knew my brothers had tried to shield me from the brunt of my father’s violence, but they’d been kids themselves. Since my paternal model had been an abusive drunk, what the hell did I know about being a father to a young child? Sure, I’d had the Admiral—but he hadn’t been in our lives yet when we were really little. He’d done at amazing job at getting through to a trio of angsty, traumatized teen boys, but what would he have done with a baby? I had no idea, having never seen him with one.
I shouldn’t let my thoughts go in that direction. If my brothers were there, they would yank me back from that precipice—and so would Soledad—but I couldn’t help myself. Everything was in turmoil. I had a son to care for, an enemy to battle, and decisions to make about my future.
The clock was ticking on that last one. I had to make the choice soon about whether I was going to re-enlist or leave the service. My paternity leave was nearly up, and the possibility of an investigator job with Colin’s firm tempted me. It might mean some odd hours and travel, but I wouldn’t be overseas and out of touch for months as I would be on SEAL missions.
Could I really go half a year or longer without seeing Luke?
I didn’t know the answer to that question. I did know that I couldn’t leave until the situation with Bruce was resolved and I was certain Luke and Soledad were safe. Once that was accomplished, I could sort out the rest. The options played in my mind on a loop, but I kept getting stuck on one possibility. What if I stayed and tried for a real relationship with Soledad, so we could be a family? What if I could have a life like my brothers and cousins did, with their wives and kids?
It sounded great, but nothing like that had ever worked out in my life. Others had always failed me, whether by choice or not. I knew the soul-searing pain of disappointment; I’d lived it again and again with my parents and the Admiral. If I took the risk to form a family with Soledad, how could I expect a different outcome? She would always have the capacity to inflict that pain on me, even if only to make a choice that bettered her life. Even now she was considering moving on.
That’s what happened. I’d learned that lesson long ago. Choosing to give her that kind of power over me was just setting myself up for the inevitable fall.
And what about Luke? What would be best for him in all this? Even if I tried my hardest to make it work, I risked disappointing my son. That brought me up short. How could I live with myself if I failed this tiny being who knew nothing but trust?
I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and smiled at my son’s touch, given just when I needed it most. “Life’s tough, Luke,” I said, “and I’ll probably disappoint you. I’m sorry for that in advance.” The chances that I wouldn’t be there—or be enough—for my son were so great.
“For you, though,” I promised, kissing the boy’s forehead, “I’ll try my best.”
Soledad
“Try your best at what?” I asked, catching his last words as I walked closer. I caught my breath, too. The sight of Alex and Luke, their heads close together, did things to me that I didn’t want to admit. Maybe it was some heightened maternal instinct, but I wanted to hold them both close and love them forever. Luke was mine to do that with. His father… I didn’t know.
“At fatherhood,” Alex answered.
“Oh,” I whispered, taken aback at his response. Did he think he was failing in some way? From what I could see, he was doing an amazing job. He’d really stepped up, never hesitating to change loaded diapers or walk the floor for hours in the middle of the night. He was always so patient with Luke, so gentle, and it was obvious how much he loved his son. What could he possibly think was wrong in any of that? It all seemed perfect to me. And how unlike Alex to admit to feeling any fear or doubt. He was never the type to let down his guard. It made me want to reassure him, to offer some pithy platitude, but that felt false. Honesty was the best course.
“I worry about that myself, you know. I think a lot about being a good mom to Luke.” I sat down on the grass near them and reached out to stroke Luke’s bare foot. “Parenting is way harder than it seems from the outside. I second-guess everything, and that’s only going to get worse as he gets older. There’s a lot of pressure to get it right, because there’s no do-over on this.”
“Good way to put it. No do-overs,” Alex repeated, pushing himself up to his elbows and bringing us closer to each other than we’d been in days. “But I’ve watched you. You’re an awesome mom. From day one, you’ve been devoted to Luke and his well-being.”
“You’ve been great, too,” I said sincerely.
He shook his head as though deflecting my praise. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not,” I insisted. “I have to admit that I wondered what kind of a dad you’d be, after your…” I didn’t know all the details of his youth since he didn’t like to talk about it, but I’d heard enough throwaway comments from him and his brothers that I’d pieced together a story of neglect and abuse until they’d been taken in by the Admiral. His blue eyes burned into mine, and I couldn’t finish the sentence, knowing what a private thing his history was to him. “Anyways, I’ve been pleased with your approach to fatherhood and the care you’ve shown to a baby you knew nothing about until his birth.”
“How did you think I’d behave?” His tone suggested he took my words as an insult.
“Don’t take offense. Please. You have to remember that my expectations for dads are really low.” I tried to sound upbeat despite the difficult topic. “Mine was out the door within a year of when I was born—and from what my mom says, he was never all that interested in taking care of me or spending time with me even before he left. Just about the only thing he gave me was my name. And what a name.” I rolled my eyes.
What sort of father would name a child “solitude” or “loneliness,” the English translations of my name? Certainly not a father who planned to raise that child and love her. I had wondered, more times than I could remember, if the word was meant to apply to me, to seal my fate in some way—or was it an expression that described my father? I couldn’t speak for him, but I’d be damned if I’d succumb to melancholy. Now or ever.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Alex said gently, “despite its meaning.”
“Thanks for that,” I said and smiled, “but back to my point. Luke is lucky to have you as his father.”
“Maybe. I’m worried that someday he’ll hate me for disappointing him.”
What? Did Alex really believe that? What nonsense.
“Of course you’ll disappoint him,” I replied, and his face froze. Before he could speak, whether to protest or agree, I charged forward with my point. “Everyone is disappointed at some point—by their family, their friends, whoever—but since when is that the be-all and end-all of our lives? You can’t carry that worry around with you every day. As my mother would have said, disappointments are like back-fence cats.” My mom had loved that expression.
“What the hell does that mean?” he scoffed.
“Language.” I tilted my head to the baby between us. “It means that they happen, and you can’t prevent them. All you can do is deal with them. Disappointment is as common as rain in April. My mother would have told you to build a bridge over those floodwaters and cross it.”
“I think I would have liked your mother,” Alex said with a slow smile.
“Yeah, she’d have liked you, too,” I said, feeling my throat tighten. I’d wished so many times in the past months for my mother’s love and guidance, but heart disease had taken her too young. I had very little family and none of it local.
“He has no clue what we’re saying, by the way.” Alex rubbed his hand over Luke’s belly, getting a coo out of the boy. “It’s all about tone of voice at this age.”
“Reading up on baby development?” I questioned, unsurprised because, despite his uncertainty, it was obvious that Alex truly was doing his best by Luke.
“Maybe,” Alex admitted, his eyes on Luke.
“See? You’re good father material after all. So good, as a matter of fact, that I’ve found time to paint my toenails,” I gestured to the bright red polish, “and that was after I took care of my latest round of bookkeeping for Mandy and Carolyn and post a couple of updates to my blog—because you do your share and more.” After that initial few weeks when I hadn’t had a minute to focus on anything but Luke, I’d gotten back into more of my usual routine, including reviewing more books and adding content about upcoming festivals and links to balloon races, and I’d seen an uptick in traffic as a result.
“I’m glad for you,” he said as he played with Luke, getting the baby to grasp his finger.
Alex and Luke were naturals together. It was a beautiful sight, and I couldn’t take my eyes from the two of them as a sensation of pure happiness overcame me. In this moment I had the life, the family I’d always dreamed of. I wanted to hang on to it and make it last. Over the past days, I’d gone back and forth about my feelings for Alex. Our kiss had rocked me, but that was physical. It was the conversation with Mandy, Lily, and Carolyn that I couldn’t get out of my head, because they’d understood my struggles and gave me hope. They’d both gotten their SEALs to settle down with them, and they seemed blissfully content.
Was it really impossible for me to have the same? Because I wanted it, more than I’d let myself admit until now.
If life could be like this… I sighed.
“What?” Alex asked, looking up at me.
“Nothing,” I said, unable to confess what was in my heart. “It’s just a beautiful day.”
He gave a brief nod of agreement, his eyes on my face, before turning his attention back to Luke. I greedily took in the scene, storing it away in my memory. I had no idea how many more moments like this I’d get before things changed between us.