SEAL Baby Daddy

But there was a big difference between acknowledging that a kid was beautiful and wanting to be a part of her life, I knew. And I still wasn’t sure that I trusted Ace to want to be around. I wasn’t sure that I trusted him with Ava.

“One drink,” I found myself saying. I paused. “But I really think we should let the past rest there.”

Ace smiled and inclined his head toward me. “One drink,” he agreed. “I’ll give you a call, and we’ll figure out when.”

I blinked, surprised that he didn’t want to push me to commit to a time and a place right then. He was giving me time to rethink it, time to say no.

I wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get Sandy’s miles in. It’s part of her exercise regimen,” Ace told me. “But I’ll see you around, okay? Have a good day.”

I was struck by the sudden urge to do something; I don’t know, to kiss him or at least to hug him or something else. But he was already turning and walking away, the big dog lumbering after him.

I let out a breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. Then, I turned back toward the blanket, glad that Ava had slept through all of it. But when I looked back at her, she was sitting up and rubbing at her eyes, a frown forming on her face. “Want doggy,” she said, making grabby hands toward Ace and the retreating German shepherd.

I sighed, hoping this wasn’t the start of another almost tantrum. So much for recognizing her father; Ava only had eyes for the dog next to the man.

I smiled and sat down next to her, trying to coax her into a good mood even though she hadn’t gotten to pet the doggy.

12

Ace

I had my appointment with the therapist and left there feeling almost more unstable than when I’d arrived. She’d latched on to the fact that Harper had a kid, and instead of asking me what I’d expected I might get with Harper or questions that would get at why I was fixating on her, she started asking me to come to terms with how I felt about Harper having a kid.

I didn’t know what I felt. I was positive that I shouldn’t be around kids. With my whole upbringing, with everything with my dad, there was no way I was cut out to be a dad. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a dad. I knew I was more and more like my dad, the older I got. Just as stubborn and self-righteous, full of my principles. Throw a kid in the mix, and I might be just like him.

I swallowed hard, remembering some of the worst things from my childhood. I couldn’t do that to another generation.

But I was so damn drawn to Harper. Even though she had a kid. And I kept finding myself running into Harper, so I needed to figure out a way to deal with it.

Granted, some of those interactions I had brought upon myself. But not all of them. I hadn’t planned on running into her in the park the other day when I was out running around with Sandy. It made sense that we would see each other now and again. We were practically neighbors, after all.

I knew that I couldn’t start something with Harper, knowing that she had her kid. But there was also part of me that had to wonder what it would be like. That kid was so adorable, so precious. Surely, I could never be as terrible as my father in my interactions with her.

But I couldn’t take that chance, and I knew that.

The therapist could tell that I was getting upset the more we talked around the issues. She kept telling me that I needed to just go with the flow, to let things play out, to not get so agitated. She didn’t tell me not to get drinks with Harper, like I’d expected her to do. In fact, she almost seemed to encourage it. I wondered if getting drinks would resolve the chaos in my head.

I also knew that that was precisely why I wasn’t supposed to be giving in to baser needs, not when I was still trying to reintegrate into normal life. I couldn’t ask Harper to help me fix myself. I needed to do that on my own.

Not that there was anything that really needed fixing. This momentary crisis aside, I was handling everything well. I didn’t have PTSD, and I wasn’t just another statistic.

I had to stop talking about Harper, so I switched to talking about my new job. It was a cop-out, and I knew it, but it’s not like we were getting anywhere on the Harper front anyway. I knew I needed to forget about her; I just didn’t know why it was so difficult to do.

Anyway, I liked talking about the new job. Training dogs was great. It was something I’d done with the SEALs in the past and something that I was confident with. Plus, dogs just made sense in ways that people never would. They reacted to their basic needs. If a dog was hungry, it found something to eat. If it was thirsty, it found something to drink. None of this worrying about women and children and futures. Dogs just existed in the now.

I wished I could be more like that sometimes.

After my therapy session was over, I called Harper and invited her for a drink that night. I was surprised when she said yes, even though she’d already agreed to one drink the other day at the park.

And now, I stood in my room giving myself a short pep talk before I went to meet up with her. “It’s going to be okay,” I told myself. “She’s not going to have the kid there with her. You’re just going to go, ask how things have been, talk about the past few years. It’s going to be fine.” I nodded at my reflection, as though that somehow sealed the deal.

I shook my head. I felt stupid. I was acting like a girl. But I was nervous about going to meet her. It felt like I didn’t even know her anymore, and for some reason, that bothered me. Even though I hadn’t kept in touch with her all this time. If I’d really wanted to continue to know her, I would have gotten in contact with her.

I tried not to think about the fact that it had hurt that she had left without saying goodbye. Even though I’d been the first one to leave without saying goodbye.

I rubbed at my forehead. Things were complicated.