I didn’t realize they were there.
Daddy.
“Come on, all of you.” Christine puts a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Everyone out. Let’s leave the family in peace for a while.”
“Just yell if you need anything,” Katrina adds, and they all walk out, closing the bedroom door behind them.
Grateful for the sudden serenity, I press my forehead to Hannah’s shoulder and look down at the baby. His eyes are open, and he sucks furiously at Hannah’s breast. He looks so serious about the whole thing, and I can’t help but smile.
Yeah, bud—I like them, too.
“Chuck is a nickname for Charles, isn’t it?” Hannah turns her head and nuzzles her chin in my hair.
“I think so.”
“So…can we name him that? Charles?”
Pressing my lips together, I fight against the memory of the image of Chuck lying dead behind the truck. Instead, I focus on remembering the look on his face when he’d show up at camp with some rodent on the end of an arrow, begging Christine to cook it.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “I think Charles is perfect.”
Little Charles closes his eyes and his sucking motions slow and finally stop. Hannah strokes the top of his head gently, careful of the soft spot.
“Does all this scare you?” she asks.
I look from her to the tiny, new human being in her arms.
“Hannah,” I say seriously, “I’ve had insurgents surround me and start throwing grenades. I’ve had IEDs go off and kill the guy next to me. I’ve had dozens of assholes chasing me while trying to get you to safety, and I’ve shot at an alien.”
I turn my head so I can look her right in the eyes.
“This scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
Hannah tries to hold in her giggles so she doesn’t shake little Charles awake. I reach over and stroke his cheek. He’s lost his grip on her nipple, but as soon as he feels my touch, he starts making little sucking motions with his mouth.
“Thank you, Hannah,” I whisper.
“For what?” she asks.
“For giving my life purpose again.”
Epilogue
I’m awake but only barely.
The bed is warm and comfortable. My arm is wrapped around my wife and son, who both sleep peacefully. It’s Sunday. It’s still early, and I’d promised Hannah she could sleep late this morning.
She wants everything to be normal, and apparently, that means sleeping in on Sundays.
Charles is not always cooperative, so occasionally I open my eyes just to check on him for a moment, but I soon close them again when I see he’s still sleeping. Once he wakes, I’ll get him up and give Hannah another hour or two to rest.
My mind recounts the events of the previous day.
“Do you, Falk Eckhart, take this woman to be your wife?”
I glance sideways at Hannah before answering. She’s giving me the stink-eye, and I have to admit that I like to rile her up.
“Yeah, sure,” I finally say, and she elbows me in the ribs.