Rachel Lee - Thanksgiving Daddy

Well, he’d done a stupid thing, and now it had caught up with him. No input any longer about whether, now it was only how and how much. Choices had narrowed because of the reality of a new life.

He quietly returned to the kitchen to put the glass of milk in the refrigerator. “She’s napping.”

He should have guessed he would get cornered.

“What are you going to do?” Marge demanded.

“The right thing, Mom.”

“I hope you do more than that.”

Nate interrupted. “Marge, sometimes you start at the right thing because it’s the only place to start.”

Marge tightened her mouth. “I can’t believe you got that girl pregnant.”

“I’m no saint, Mom. The SEALs don’t make saints.”

She shook her head while her husband frowned at her. “That’s not an issue anymore, Marge. Let it go.”

“How can I let it go? Everything in Seth’s life turned into a mess. I can understand Darlene. He warned her she wouldn’t be able to take it. But Maria, too? Why do things keep going wrong?”

“She couldn’t help being killed in an auto accident,” Seth said tautly. “And frankly, I don’t like being reminded of just how painful that was. Right now there’s only one thing I’m concerned about.”

He slid onto a bar stool beside his father and stared at his mother. “You don’t know what it’s like out there, and I hope you never know. But sometimes things happen. Fueled by adrenaline. Fueled by a relief that you’re still alive. Edie pulled my butt out of the fire, I went to thank her, and...well, here we are. That’s enough. We’re here.”

“We certainly are,” Marge said tartly. “And you had better do the right thing because I don’t want to lose a grandchild.”

“And I don’t want to lose a son. Maybe the only one I’ll ever have. But how much of a part I’ll have in his life is up to Edie. You need to understand that. This is first and foremost about Edie and the baby. I’ve messed her up enough already.”

“We shouldn’t talk about a baby as if it’s a mess.”

“Oh, boy,” Nate said quietly beside him.

Seth felt anger start to surge. “You think not? I messed up her life. Her career. She had goals and all that’s changed because she’s pregnant. They’re going to reassign her, maybe to training, maybe to a desk, but either way her dreams of rising high are gone now. The military might have accepted women in combat roles, but they’re far from accepting the limitations on a woman who won’t give up her baby or give it into someone else’s care. She’s refusing to do either.”

“Well, of course! Giving up a baby...” Marge trailed off.

All of a sudden Seth understood what was going on here. Marge was reliving giving him up, trying to rewrite her own perceived mistake by fighting for this baby. That was going to make this hell. Not just one woman’s problems and a baby’s needs, but his mother’s need to correct a wrong in her own past.

He looked at his father and saw the understanding there. “Maybe I should have Edie stay at my place.”

“Mebbe so,” Nate said. “Mebbe so.”

“She’s welcome here,” Marge argued.

“She’s already told me she wants no pressuring and no arm-twisting. Are you going to be able to promise that, Mom?”

Marge stared at him, then suddenly sagged against the counter and closed her eyes. The kitchen was filling with the savory aroma of roasting chicken. A minute or two ticked by in silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry, I’m not helping at all.”

Nate rose and went to embrace his wife. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Seth said. “Times have changed. Edie has options you didn’t, and because of that, so have I. Just let us work it out in the way that’s best for both of us.”

Marge nodded, her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. She looked at her son. “It’s just that I was so glad you came back to us. I’ll never forget the joy and relief.”

“And the mess.” Seth gave her a crooked smile. “I messed up your life twice. So yes, a baby can be a mess until everything’s sorted out.”

At that Marge gave him a wan smile. “I guess so.”

He rose and returned to the living room, settling in to watch Edie sleep and to think about the grenade that had been tossed his way. He needed to get used to this baby idea, and quickly. Time was wasting.

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