Laura Marie - The SEAL's Stolen Child

“I, ah, need to make a call.” Dr. Mulligan waved his phone before leaving the two of them alone.

“Look—” Garrett placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him “—I’m sorry your dad’s sick. I know you two are close. But if there’s even the slightest chance what he said is true, we have to find out more. Hopefully, Hal’s going to wake up. And when he does, we have to question him for definitive answers. We—”

“What’s wrong with you? He’s dying. But if there’s any hope of him hanging on, I can’t risk upsetting him again.”

The doctor had returned and now paused alongside Garrett. “Maybe it’s best you leave. I’m going to give Eve a sedative, and my nurse will stay with Hal through the night.”

Tossing up his hands, Garrett laughed. “There we go with that word again—best. Oh, I’ll leave for the night but, Eve, you’ve got exactly twelve hours until I’m back.”

* * *

GARRETT’S FAMILY MAY have been waiting for him, but considering he’d just come out on the wrong end of playing emotional catch with a grenade, he wasn’t ready to see them.

He’d have liked a hard run to work off the tension knotting his shoulders, but considering the Thanksgiving Day weather, he opted for the less healthy alternative of Schmitty’s.

The bar and burger joint was good and dark. High wooden booths allowed for privacy. Loud ’70s rock made it damn near impossible to think. When the waitress stopped by his table, he ordered a pitcher of beer. But once she brought it, he was too shell-shocked to drink.

Hal’s revelation had Garrett pissed. Actually he was beyond pissed. He had passed into some bizarre state he hadn’t been in since he was seventeen and the old man told him his son had died. Logically, hearing the opposite should’ve sent his spirit soaring, but it wasn’t that easy. On the off chance what the old man said had been true, even all-powerful Hal Barnesworth couldn’t turn back time to rest that baby in Garrett’s loving arms. And he would’ve loved his kid. Eve, too. They could’ve had it all, but their futures had been manipulated as though they’d been puppets on strings.

Their every choice had been stolen.

Worse yet, Eve seemed more concerned about her father’s passing than the news that their son may actually be alive.

Chalk him up as a horrible person, but Garrett sure as hell wouldn’t be sorry to see Hal Barnesworth go.

While all around him seeds of a good time were watered by beer and burgers into louder conversation and laughs, Garrett’s mood grew proportionally darker. What if this was just the grand finale to Hal’s puppet show? Garrett wouldn’t put it past him to lie for the twisted amusement of seeing Eve and Garrett dance. But if Hal had spoken the truth? That meant somewhere out there Garrett and Eve had a son. Garrett’s Thanksgiving leave was only a week, which didn’t offer much time to find a child gone eight years. Even if Garrett eventually found him, what happened then? Was the kid happy and healthy? Assuming he was, then what? There wasn’t exactly an Idiot’s Guide written on how to tell an eight-year-old you were his dad.

Covering his face with his hands, Garrett struggled to find answers where there were none. He’d hoped to seek solace in the pitcher on the table, but had yet to take a drink. In order to process Hal’s revelation he needed clarity, not a good buzz.

After thirty more minutes staring at the initials carved into the backrest of the wooden seat across from him, he finally paid his tab and exited the warm bar.

The night had grown even more ugly, wind driving rain so hard against his face that the drops nipped like teeth. In the car, he couldn’t focus. Soaked, cold, his hands shook so bad it was a battle to work his Mustang’s manual gearshift. While his mother lived only a few miles away at the foot of Coral Ridge’s lone hill, the few-minutes’ drive lasted a minilifetime.

Finally, he parked in front of the modest ranch-style home where his mom lived alone since his fireman father had died while on duty a few years back. Having nagged Garrett for grandchildren, what would she think of this possible twist of fate?

The Barnesworths were Florida royalty, local gods. After an obligatory round of questions ranging from what the house looked like to what designer Eve had been wearing, his mother finally got around to asking, “So? How was seeing Eve again? Is Hal as sick as she led you to believe?”

“Who knows?” Garrett shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a rack beside the door. “He’s for sure bad off, but I wouldn’t put it past him to rally, then live fifty more years just to torture me.”

“Oh, dear…” Dina Solomon leaned forward from her seat on the couch. “What did he talk about?”

Garrett sighed, wishing for privacy instead of an audience consisting of not only his mom, but maternal grandparents, his mom’s sister Carol, brother-in-law Todd and their son, Zane. “I’m not sure I should say. Probably his big confession isn’t even true.”

“Now,” Dina said, “you have to tell us.” The group sat in the formal living room near the fire, being teased by the rich scent of Thanksgiving dinner still on hold in the kitchen. His mom usually went overboard when it came to decorating for holidays and this one was no exception. Life-size stuffed pilgrims stood smiling in a far corner, framed by dried cornstalks and, of course, a stuffed turkey.

“Bet the old man left Garrett a bundle,” his twenty-year-old cousin Zane said.

“Put a sock in it.” Garrett thumped the back of the kid’s head. “Well, I can’t believe it, but Eve and I might still share a connection.”

Ashen, his mother—the only person present who’d known what he’d been through—frowned. “What’s that mean? I thought this was the first time you’ve seen her since she left for—” she stopped herself from blurting where Eve had really gone “—finishing school?”

“It was.”

“I went to an Easter egg hunt on the mansion grounds when I was a little girl.” Grandma Fern sipped from her ever-present martini. The woman was already a touch senile. Why was his mom adding liquor to her already addled mind? “The gardens were like something from a fairy tale. Are they still as fancy?”

“I don’t know, Grandma. It was dark and raining.”

Dina adjusted the throw pillow nestled near the small of her mother’s back. “I’m sure they’re just as gorgeous as you remember.” To Garrett, she said, “Go on, hon. What did Hal say?”

Tired of keeping everything secret, Garrett told them the whole story—including Hal summoning him to the mansion to inform him his son had been stillborn. Eve moved from the unwed mothers’ home to an East Coast college prep school, then on to college. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d left town carrying his son. “Tonight, Hal coughed so hard he could hardly speak, but what he did manage to get out…” Garrett shook his head. “Hal said my son’s alive.”

Garrett’s mom clutched the gold cross she always wore on a thin chain around her neck. “I have a grandson. Where is he? I want to see him now.”

“Slow down.” Garrett helped himself to someone’s abandoned glass of white wine. “I’m having a hard time believing this is even true. If it is, our son may be out there, but Hal didn’t say where. I’m going back in the morning. Hopefully, he’ll tell us more. But my gut feeling is that it’s a lie.”

“Hal wouldn’t lie on his deathbed. You’ll find your son,” Garrett’s grandpa Ira assured him.

“Where’s Eve now?” his mother asked.

“I assume with Hal. Best as I could, I tried comforting her, but she pushed me away.”

“As much as we all want you here,” his grandmother said, “you should go to her. I remember when her mother died like it was yesterday. Marianne Barnesworth was a lady through and through. Each public appearance, she and Eve were always matching, only Eve had that blond hair of hers fastened up in a big bow. When Marianne died in that car crash, the whole town nearly shut down. And the funeral—saddest thing ever. Eve looked so small and alone. Those horrible photos of her standing graveside were published in most every paper in the state. Such a fragile little girl.”