“We’ve got to laugh about it. Most people don’t get it. The threat of death is abstract, but for women like us, the threat has moved into the spare bedroom.”
“Some nights when he’s gone, I can’t sleep because I wonder if he’s okay or I imagine terrible things. Then, other times, I forget to worry and feel guilty as hell.”
“I know exactly how you feel.”
Harper believed her. No one else, not even her mother, could truly understand.
“Did you work before you had kids? Before you and Darren got married?” Harper tucked her feet under her and nibbled on a cracker.
“Darren and I were high school sweethearts. He went through ROTC in college and applied for the SEALs right after graduation. I got a degree in education, but we got married before he got sent to boot camp, and I went home to live with my parents until he made the cut and got assigned. I’ve never worked. Well, except at home.”
“Do you regret that?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I wouldn’t change my life for anything, you know? It’s hard to have regrets.” She gave a slight eye roll. “Except for the lack of sleep. I really miss sleep.”
Allison put the baby over her shoulder and alternated between rubbing and patting his back. The wet protracted burp that emerged made Harper laugh, but Allison jumped up.
“Sorry. I hope we didn’t turn your couch into a toxic waste site.” Allison craned her neck to look over her shoulder. “The baby spit up.”
“Couch looks fine. Your dress on the other hand…” Harper winced.
“Here. Could you hold him a second while I change?” Allison didn’t wait for an answer and held the squirming baby out. Harper took him, and Allison squatted down to rummage through the bottom of the stroller. “No one tells you that you need spare clothes for not only the kids but yourself.”
“Bathroom’s right off the foyer.”
“I’ll just be a sec.” She stopped in the doorway, her expression equal parts serious and amused. “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay.”
“’Cuz he doesn’t bite?” Harper attempted a joke.
“Oh no, he bites all right. Four little nubby teeth can do more damage than you think.” Allison’s laughter trailed and echoed in the foyer, fading when the bathroom door shut.
It took Harper some juggling before she found the most comfortable hold was to prop the baby on her hip. His head seemed entirely too big for his spindly neck. Harper had never babysat or been baby wild. The closest she’d been to babies was funny internet videos.
Birds darted around a hanging bird feeder, and she moved toward the window and pointed. “Do you see the pretty red bird?”
The baby grabbed her finger and gurgled. Harper held her breath, but it seemed to be a happy noise and not foretelling another imminent eruption of spit-up. She rubbed her chin against the baby’s head. His hair was soft, the smell inherently snuggly, but Harper couldn’t say why.
The baby guided Harper’s finger toward his mouth, but Harper jerked her hand away. The baby’s face went blank for two blinks, then screwed up into a bawl.
Harper bounced him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Here’s my finger.”
She shoved her finger at the baby’s mouth. The cry stopped like turning off a spigot. It was more of a gnaw than a bite and Harper made a funny face. The baby’s big belly laughs made Harper laugh, too.
“You’re a natural, too.” Allison stood a few feet away in shorts and a T-shirt. How long had she been there?
Harper gave her the baby back. “No, I’m not. More coffee?”
Before Allison had the chance to answer, Harper grabbed both mugs and retreated to the kitchen. She rubbed her hands over her face and stared at her wavery reflection in the window. Holding a baby for two minutes wasn’t the same as being responsible for one every minute of every day and entirely on her own when Noah was deployed.
What if he didn’t come back and she was left to raise a child by herself? The thought shot her knees with Novocain, a sick feeling making her head swim. She grasped the counter and let her head hang low to get a handle on the panic.
“Harper? Are you okay?” Allison had come up next to her without her noticing.
“Not really, no.” The words emerged around a block of tears.
Allison leaned back against the counter. “I’ve scared you with all this baby talk, haven’t I?”
“It’s not you. I’m scared that Noah will leave me to take care of a baby all by myself. You have two kids. Doesn’t that possibility freak you out?” Harper raised her head enough to cross gazes with Allison.
“Of course it does. But it’s more likely that you and Noah will retire to a peach orchard and grow old together rocking on your front porch. You’ll never be happy if you can’t find a way to deal with the SEAL lifestyle.”
“Maybe I’ll never be happy then.”
Harper wasn’t sure what she was looking for from Allison. Maybe some motherly comforting, even though she wasn’t much older than Harper.
Allison’s face tensed, faint lines bracketing her face. “Shut down the pity party. You need to get out of this house. If not a job, then volunteer somewhere. Join a book club or the wives group I coordinate. If you love Noah, you have to learn to deal with the uncertainty, and staying busy and engaged helps.”
After an initial flare of resentment, she absorbed the tough love and her panic receded, still lapping at the shore but no longer swamping her.
“I still don’t want to have a baby right away.”
Allison made a harrumphing noise. “Then don’t. But don’t rule out a family down the road because you’re scared.”
Harper nodded and tried on a smile. It wasn’t her biggest or brightest, but it was better than nothing. She was the hostess of this shindig after all.
“Here, let me get you more coffee.” She bustled over to the pot.
“Actually, I’ve got to get home and put the baby down for a nap. Thanks for the coffee and chat, though.” Allison breezed back into the den, where Libby was flipping through a pile of board books and the baby was strapped into the stroller.
Allison packed everything away like the stroller had some magic compartment and maneuvered it to the door.
Harper mouthed a curse before slapping on a smile and following Allison. Instead of providing a normal “get to know you” coffee, she’d aired her neurosis for the other woman to pick over like a rummage sale.
“I hope—”
“Why don’t you—” Allison spoke over her and gave a little laugh.
“Thanks for coming,” Harper said.
“Thanks for inviting me. How about you come over to my place next? What about Thursday morning? Come around now. I’ll put a show on for Libby and the baby will be down for a nap. We can actually sit down and relax.”
Maybe she hadn’t screwed up. Relief relaxed her smile. “That’d be great.”
After Harper helped her get the stroller down the steps, she stood there, feeling awkward, until Allison leaned in to give her a quick hug.
“See you soon,” Allison whispered in her ear.
A bond of friendship, as fragile as it still was, had formed between her and Allison over the short morning and she didn’t feel as alone. Or lonely.
Instead of retreating to the empty house, she sat in one of the rockers on the porch. The set had been a wedding gift from her mother. With her foot she made the other chair rock in tandem with hers, and imagined Noah, old but never gray, beside her.
Chapter 11
Present Day
Harper tried to get a read on Bennett. Between the flickering firelight and his beard, she couldn’t interpret his expression.
“Noah and I fought about me getting a job. And having kids. I was happy with Noah, but not so happy with my life in Virginia Beach. Things got better after Allison and I became friends. I volunteered with Meals on Wheels and with an adult literacy program. That gave me a purpose, I suppose.”
“You didn’t want kids?”
“No, I did, just not on the same timeline as Noah. I ended up giving in, though.”
“You don’t seem the type to give in or give up. No offense.” His lips quirked into what qualified as a smile for him.