Thanksgiving Daddy. Rachel LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
focus she applied to her missions. Do the job and get out. She hadn’t even been sure if her self-imposed orders had been the right ones, but she had completed them. Evidently getting out wasn’t going to be easy.
But how difficult could it be to appease this woman with the warm eyes, who was pleading with her to stay? Dinner? Meeting Seth’s father? Seeing Seth again? Surely she had faced harder things, things she had wanted to do even less.
But she couldn’t escape the fact that her mouth was growing dry and her palms damp with nameless fear, a kind of fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. How could she be so afraid of seeing two people? And while Seth was a virtual stranger, she had already known him in the most intimate way possible.
So what could happen? Likely Nate would be as warm as Marge. Seth might be cold, or he might be friendly, but one way or another this would get settled and she could return to her life without any more questions hanging over her. Her duty would be well and fully completed.
“All right,” she heard herself say. “Thank you.”
What the hell was she getting into?
* * *
The next hour passed easily enough. Marge changed the topic to safer things, talking about her six daughters, their husbands and what seemed to be a mob of grandchildren. Edie’s head was soon awhirl with names she would never sort out and was sure she wouldn’t need to. Then there was some talk about how Seth’s father had been the sheriff here until he retired and how glad Marge was to have him underfoot all the time. And how glad she was to have Seth home for good.
“He never blamed me for giving him up,” Marge said. “Nate did, though. It was hard.”
And somehow they had come back to the central reason for Edie’s visit. She was actually relieved to hear the front door open. Once she got through this dinner, this meeting with Seth and his father, she could leave. She would leave. Six daughters? Really?
From somewhere came an irrepressible bubble of amusement, imagining the hard-edged SEAL she had met dealing with the sudden discovery of six sisters. Even if he had been a man when he met them, it must have been a culture shock.
But then she heard the door open and close, felt her heart slam with the door and looked up. Astonishment shook her to her toes as she stared at a man who resembled an older, slightly heavier version of Seth. There could be no mistaking the relationship.
“Well, hello,” he said, with a smile she actually recognized.
Marge jumped up and hurried to her husband for a hug and a quick kiss. Edie clenched her hands on her lap, managing a nod and a strained smile.
“Edie, this is Seth’s father, Nate. Nate, Major Edith Clapton. She knows Seth from Afghanistan. I think.”
“Afghanistan,” Edie said, giving a slight nod.
“So you came to visit Seth?” Nate’s smile broadened and he walked into the room, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Edie shook his hand, feeling the warm strength of his grip, but didn’t rise. She wasn’t sure her legs could hold her. A flicker of unfamiliar panic struck her. How had she let herself become roped into this?
Nate looked at his wife. “You asked the girls to come to dinner, too, I hope. I’m sure they’d like to meet Seth’s friend.”
Marge bit her lip. Clearly Nate was perceptive, more perceptive than most men. He looked from one woman to the other, then slowly sat in an armchair. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Edie tried to frame an answer, but Marge forestalled her. “Well, dear, Seth doesn’t know yet, but we’re going to be grandparents again.”
Nate looked dumbstruck. Edie waited tensely, alternating between the urge to just get up and walk out and the urge to shrink into the couch. All she had wanted to do was pass the word to the one person who needed to know, and now she was caught in a spiderweb of family reactions she hadn’t wanted to cause, and things seemed to be growing more complicated by the second. Maybe she should have just written a letter.
But then her sterner nature returned in a surge, and she squared her shoulders. She had dealt with tougher stuff than this, countless times. At least nobody here was trying to kill her. It was ridiculous to panic. There was absolutely no reason for it.
“I should go,” she said firmly. “I didn’t come here intending to upset everyone. I just thought Seth had a right to know. There’s no reason for either of you to be concerned about this.”
“No reason?” Nate repeated the words. “Sorry, Major, but I don’t agree. There’s always room in this family for another grandchild. You’re staying here until we’re clear on that at least.”
She bridled a bit and wanted to tell him that he couldn’t make her stay, but she realized that wasn’t what he meant. “Look,” she said finally. “I only came because I felt Seth had a right to know. He can make whatever decision he wants. I don’t want anything from him or anyone else.”
“Really.” Nate’s expression hovered somewhere between a smile and a frown. “It’s your decision, of course. And his.”
Marge didn’t look happy about the easy capitulation, but said nothing.
“Exactly,” Edie said emphatically. She felt a surprising surge of warmth for the man and his understanding.
Nate settled back in his chair. “So tell me what you do in the air force, Major.”
So she told him, glad of the relatively neutral topic. He asked cogent questions, indicating some military background, and he, more than Marge, seemed to understand the dangers of what she and her crew did. He didn’t point them out, though, merely nodded his understanding. Marge seemed quite taken with the idea that Edie flew helicopters.
“In my day,” she said, “they didn’t let women do anything like that.”
“They do now,” Edie said.
“And in combat, too,” Marge said, looking as if she hadn’t really given it much thought. “My, things change.”
“They certainly do,” Nate agreed. “Although in my day, and probably earlier, women got right into the thick of it anyway. I saw more than a few nurses find themselves on the front lines, for all they were supposed to be noncombatants.”
“At least now,” Edie said, trying to lighten it a bit, “we come armed.”
Nate flashed a smile.
Edie could feel her nerves stretching, despite the casual conversation. Seth was going to walk in that door soon, and she couldn’t imagine his reaction. Not that she should care, she told herself. She didn’t even know the man. They’d had a stupid fling, a couple of meals, then gone their own ways. Less than twelve hours.
Which made him a perfect stranger, however intimate they’d become for an hour. Therefore she shouldn’t care how he reacted at all. He was a cipher in her life, a mere sperm donor. Damn, when she looked back on it, it had been so brief it really hadn’t been much more personal than getting a sperm donation.
Except she knew she was fooling herself. One wild night, a night she’d never forgotten and now knew she would never be able to forget. Hasty, unsparing, basic lovemaking that had birthed her into a new aspect of her womanhood, and now was bringing her a totally different future. A child, a new career path.
No, she couldn’t remain entirely indifferent to Seth. He’d given her two great gifts but had also ripped away all her goals and aims. Talk about a life-altering experience.
She’d been furious for a while. First at him, but she well remembered him rolling that condom on. “Even with perfect use they fail two or three percent of the time,” the gynecologist had said. Great. Still, she couldn’t blame Seth. She could only blame herself for giving in to impulses she had wisely avoided for years.
So she had turned the anger inward.