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Hannah stopped short, turning on her sister. “I know what he thinks, Sam. Excuse me, Samantha,” she corrected.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, Sammy, you’ve never gone by Samantha a day in your life! What’s with you? Flirting with Fallon’s father. Pretending to be her mother—”
“I never did any of that. He just assumed.”
Hannah took a deep breath, deep enough for the flush of anger and jealousy to fade just a little. She was only picking a fight with her sister because she wanted to go fifteen rounds with Mac.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Hannah glanced toward McCaffrey, who was still talking to her mother. His assumptions played into Hannah’s deepest fears—that in the end it would be Sammy raising their daughter. “Have I told you today how much I love and appreciate you?”
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me now.”
“I know I don’t say it often enough.”
“Forget it,” Sammy said. “I know you’re upset. And I didn’t help any by playing devil’s advocate.”
“You’re not the only one.” Hannah nodded toward their mother. A few minutes ago she’d snubbed McCaffrey, now they were engaged in animated conversation. “What in the world do you suppose they have to talk about?”
“The weather?”
“Funny.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe,” Sammy said with real regret. “You and Mom are cut from the same cloth. Neither of you would ever air your dirty laundry in public.”
Hannah returned her full attention to her sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means Mom’s going to keep mum. I think she invented the term soldier on. And you…I don’t know why you ever left active duty for the reserves in the first place. The uniform suits you. You button up all your emotions inside that white jacket, and they reward you for it with those ribbons worn in place of your heart.”
“I’m not emotionless,” Hannah denied. “I just keep my feelings to myself. Do you honestly think I don’t feel anything?”
“Then you deserve a Purple Heart. Because if you’re bleeding, nobody knows it. Least of all him.”
“It doesn’t matter. McCaffrey means nothing to me. Less than nothing,” she emphasized. “A one-night stand with a military man. How much more cliché can it get?”
Although, technically, she’d 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 understand.”
Did he really?
Her daughter was now clean and content, gurgling in response to Hannah’s smiles. Peter’s voice barely registered as Hannah got caught up in playing peekaboo.
“Is that Fallon cooing in the background?”
“She’s a Charmin Chatty with a big beau-ti-ful smile,” she emphasized for the baby. See for yourself.” She snapped and sent the digital image from her camera phone to his. “I’m glad you always manage to talk me into the latest gadgets.”
“So am I.”
She took several more pictures. During the photo shoot, Fallon surprised them both by rolling over onto her belly with help from the seat cushion. Lifting her bobble head, she peeked over her shoulder looking for Hannah.
“Yes, Mommy sees your new trick.” She smiled at her daughter’s stunned expression. Fallon’s whole face lit up, her arms and legs windmilled, celebrating the joy of her newfound talent. She was already a handful, but she was really going to be a handful when she started crawling. Hannah could only hope she’d be there to see it. “Did you catch all that?” she asked Peter.
“I miss you both,” he said.
“We miss you, too.”
“How do you feel about long-distance relationships?”
He was a good boss. And a better friend. Perhaps that’s why it was so easy for them to take each other for granted. But he was not without his faults. Sometimes she thought he mistook their friendship for something more. Poor Peter. He needed someone the exact opposite of her. Which was why she didn’t assign a deeper meaning to his words. But he deserved an answer.
Saved by a knock on her office door.
“Peter, I have to go.” She hung up on his goodbye.
The Commander, Naval Special Warfare, poked his bald head around the open door. This was the first time she’d seen him uncovered. The look suited a man of his stature. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No!” She picked up Fallon and stood. “Admiral Bell, come in, please.” She gestured toward the couch where she’d just finished changing the baby. He remained standing, which was probably just as well considering he wore white from head to toe.
“We didn’t get much time in the receiving line. I just wanted to find out how you were settling in.”
“I’ve only been here a couple of days for orientation, but fine, so far.”
“Good, good.” He moved farther into the office, picking up the picture of Fallon from Hannah’s desk. “Have you enrolled her in swimming lessons yet? They offer Mommy and Me classes on base. I regret not having that experience with Libby. Drown-proofing SEAL style was the extent of our lessons.”
Hannah pushed the disturbing image aside. She doubted that meant he’d thrown his daughter into a pool with hands and feet bound like the BUD/S in training. Still… “You must have made up for it at some point. She obviously loves the water now.” Hannah wouldn’t be drown-proofing her own daughter anytime soon—if ever.
“Almost drowned when she was six. Riptide out in the Bay. For years she wouldn’t go near water. But as you pointed out, she loves it now.”
“Did you need to speak with me about Libby, Admiral?”
“It’s nothing really.” He took her cue and set the picture aside. “Just that she doesn’t like being the admiral’s kid. So…no special treatment, you understand. She wants to find her own way in the world. Which is of course why she enlisted when her mother and I would have preferred she get a college education and a commission. Or steer clear of military service altogether.” He hesitated for a moment. “She transferred into your unit, Commander, because she sees you as a role model.”
Hannah adjusted Fallon higher on her shoulder.
His wise gaze settled on her and the baby in her arms. “I understand you’re a single mother?”
Hannah stiffened. “Yes, sir.”
“I imagine you feel a little like you’ve been thrown in the deep end.”
“We’re keeping our heads above water.”
“I’m assuming you have a parenting plan in place?”
This wasn’t the civilian world. He had a right, a responsibility to pry. But men in general just didn’t get it. She needed a wife more than she needed a husband.
“Just like every other working mother in America.”
“Only the commute is to hell in a helicopter and the business trips last months, even years,” he pointed out.
“My note to the nanny includes a power of attorney. And a will. I’ve filled out the Navy’s Dependent Care Certificate. I could fax a copy to your office—” She rummaged the Out box on her desk for proof. “My sister’s taken on the baby’s guardianship—”
