The Sailor's Secret Baby Read online

  "Tough boys, from what I hear."

  I pull in my bottom lip. "Yeah," I say softly. "I'm looking for a fresh start."

  "It'll be okay, don't worry, Sweetie," he says as we get in his truck and start driving across town.

  I nod, wanting to believe him. "What did you do before..."

  "Before I got old?"

  I smile. "Yeah, before you got old."

  "I was in the Navy. A sailor, through and through."

  "I can see that, now that you mention it," I say, pointing at his sleeves of faded tattoos. I wonder how many places he's been, or if he ever got tired of letting the ship guide his life.

  "Best decision of my life."

  "Why’s that?"

  His hands on the wheel, Bernie looks over at me. "It's how I met my bride, Mabel, fifty-one years ago."

  "Wow, that's incredible."

  "Met her one night, at a social. Kids don't have those anymore, but it's a party. A fight broke out that night, and I ended up with her in my arms somehow, keeping her safe. She kissed me that night, to thank me. I knew then she was the girl for me."

  "What happened?"

  "Married her the next week. Went out to sea the next day. It was the hardest day of my life, but damn, came on the heels of the sweetest."

  "That's amazing, Bernie," I say, my chest tight with longing for what I'll never have. My sailor never called, never knocked on my door, or pulled me in his arms one last time.

  And I don't blame him.

  My brothers nearly beat him to death.

  "Well," he says as we pull up to my apartment complex, "I always say: when you find the one, don't let them go. No matter what."

  Blinking back tears, I remember to be strong. "I'll remember that," I tell him, thanking the universe for landing this man on my front porch this morning.

  "So, what do you do for work?" Bernie asks after we've unloaded all my stuff in my little studio. I try to pay him for his time, but he refuses to take my money.

  "I'm actually looking for a job," I tell him.

  He gives me warm smile. "You know how to take orders?"

  "What do you mean?" I ask, not liking the sound of that.

  "My brother, Timmy, has a restaurant and he told me they needed a few waitresses. You interested? I can take you over. And it's walking distance from your place, seeing as you don't have a car."

  "Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask, apprehensively.

  "Mabel's in a nursing home now and helping people out where I can, keeps me from falling over in a bucket of tears."

  I nod, blinking back my emotion at his generosity. "I'd love to meet your brother,” I tell him.

  "Good," he says, a twinkle in his eye. "This is a fresh start, Sweetie. Sometimes that's all we need."

  Chapter Ten

  Sampson

  I don't hear back.

  Not after the first letter.

  Not after the fifth.

  After the twentieth, I wonder if I've gone and lost it.

  But in my heart, I don’t care if I have.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sweetie

  No. This can't be happening.

  I lean over the toilet, retching up the hash browns and fried eggs I had on my morning break. I've been working at the diner for three months, and I've had to adjust to a new sleep schedule. No more rolling into work at one in the afternoon. Now I take the morning shift, pour coffee, and offer smiles, tucking tips into my apron pocket with a grateful heart.

  I stopped being a victim, letting my brothers control my life. Instead, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and made a choice.

  But now, as I splash cool water on my face, I realize the biggest choice yet, already happened.

  I'm going to have a baby.

  A stranger's baby.

  I don't even know his name.

  Shame floods me. But a knock on the door forces me to remember that I'm at work.

  "You okay, Sweetie?"

  It's Cheryl, my co-worker. She's a nice lady, always offering me a ride home, and always seems to pack me a to-go bag with dinner. Her kids are out of the house now, moved away, and she says it's nice having a little bird under her wing again. I admit to savoring her kindness toward me. I've never met a woman like her. Working at the tattoo shop never really put me in the path of women who are strong, capable, and big-hearted.

  "I'm fine," I say, swinging open the door, not wanting her to think the worst of me.

  "Oh, darling, you don't look fine."

  "It's just..." I blink back tears. Cheryl must sense I'm not in a good place because she closes the bathroom door and waits until I catch my breath. "I'm pregnant, Cheryl."

  I explain that I don't know the baby daddy's name and that I'm only twenty-one and have no business being a mom. That I don't even know how to be a mom. My only example wasn't exactly shining.

  "Shhh," she says, resting a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

  "No, it's not." I choke on my words. "I can't work here and take care of a newborn. I can't even pay my bills, and--"

  "Hey, one day at a time. First, you have to decide what you want."

  "I want this baby, even if it's crazy and irrational. It was made out of--" I stop, the words on my lips nonsensical.

  "Made out of what?"

  I gasp, covering my mouth. "Love. I loved the man I slept with. I just..."

  Cheryl softens. "You loved him, but you never got his name?"

  "I know it sounds insane. But..."

  "Love is insane, isn't it?"

  I nod. "I want this baby. I just don’t know how I'll manage."

  "Strong women have been raising children as single parents since the beginning of time. Hell, I was a single mama for a long time. But, Sweetie, you won't be in this alone."

  "My brothers hate me, I don't have any other family."

  "You have me. You have Bernie and Mabel."

  I nod, wiping my eyes. Maybe she's right. I've been having dinner with Bernie and Mabel a few nights a week for the last few months.

  "They'll be so disappointed in me."

  "No, that's not how friendship should work, how a family should work. You stick it out together through thick and thin."

  "I just wish I knew how I could find him. Maybe I can call the base in town and ask if they..." I shake my head, feeling like it's useless. "Ask if there's a sailor in his early twenties, who's super handsome, who slept with a girl when he was in port?" I roll my eyes at how dumb it sounds.

  "Hey," Cheryl says. "One day at a time."

  I nod, knowing she's right.

  "But you could look into when his boat is returning? Do you know the name of his ship?"

  I smile. "It's the USS Gantry."

  "See, it's going to be okay, Sweetie." Cheryl's warmth offers me the assurance I need right now.

  I blink back more tears. "Thank you," I tell her, pulling her into a hug. "It's like the moment I took control of my life, I started meeting all these wonderful people."

  "So, first," she says, "we celebrate the news that you're having a baby. Later, we can track this sailor down. But right now, we need to eat cake."

  Chapter Twelve

  Sampson

  After writing forty letters with no reply, I have my doubts.

  After fifty, I think I'm a fool.

  That is when I know for sure. With absolute certainty.

  I'm more than a fool. I'm goddamn crazy.

  Crazy for her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sweetie

  "All right, Sweetie," Doctor Hannah says with a smile. "Everything looks healthy. Your baby has a strong heartbeat and the last ultrasound looked wonderful. Also, your blood pressure is looking much better. Are you feeling less stress than you did when I saw you a month ago?"

  I run my hand over my six-month pregnant belly. "Yeah, I feel a lot less tension. Since Mabel and Bernie offered to let me move into their spare bedroom, I feel a lot less overwhelmed."

  "Great. And I see
that your friend, Cheryl, is here in the waiting room?"

  "Yeah. She's even throwing me a baby shower."

  "Wonderful. Now is the time to start thinking about your birth plan. I know you aren't in contact with the birth father, but--"

  I cut her off. "Actually, his ship is coming back into port tomorrow."

  "Oh?"

  "I know." I shake my head, sighing. "I'm still not sure how I feel. It ended so... abruptly. Maybe he isn't interested."

  Dr. Hannah nods. "Sometimes, it can be a healthy decision, though, to make sure people are aware of the choices they have to make."

  I lift my eyebrows. "So, I should contact him when he gets back?"

  Dr. Hannah tilts her head, her eyes crinkling. "I think you need to make that choice on your own. And I think you are strong enough to."

  Twisting my lips, I tell her, "I should probably tell my brothers that if they beat him up again I'll call the cops."

  My doctor frowns. "Do you genuinely have cause for concern over his safety?"

  I shrug. "I don't know."

  But I do. I see my brothers a few times a month and the last time they told me they'd make the man who did this to me pay.

  "Well, I trust you'll follow your gut, and if you need more support, the local police can offer you whatever help you need."

  Leaving the doctor’s office, I get into Cheryl's car and she can immediately sense that something is off.

  "Is the baby okay?" she asks, putting her hatchback in reverse.

  "That's not it. I just keep debating if I should tell the father. Find the father."

  "What else?"

  "I kinda think I need to tell my brothers to back off. I'm scared they will do something stupid if they see him again."

  "What were you thinking?"

  "Can you drop me off at Grim?"

  "You sure that's a good idea?"

  I nod. "I can't bring the sailor back in my life if I think my brothers might hurt him. That would be cruel."

  Cheryl nods. "Well, I'm not dropping you off. If you're going, we're going together."

  The shop is open, and as Cheryl and I walk in, I feel all eyes on me. Or rather, on my belly.

  "Sweetie?" Smith asks, setting down his tracing paper. I see he is working on a piece for a client and, even though I am upset with my brothers, I have to admit the stallion he's drawing looks pretty good.

  "I need to talk to you, all three of you."

  Smith narrows his eyes. "What is this about?"

  Porter and Nixon step away from their clients who are currently getting work done.

  "It's about your threat to beat up the man who knocked me up."

  "Hell, yeah, we will," Porter says. "The fucker left you without a goddamn word."

  "Because you beat him up until he was a bloody mess."

  My brothers share a grin. "We kicked his ass pretty good, didn't we?" Nixon laughs.

  I'm seething, and Cheryl says we should go. "God, do you realize how hard you are making things for me? I'm trying to get my life together, to be a good mom, and you're insisting on acting like children."

  "God, Sweetie, stop busting our balls," Porter laughs. "We're just shooting the shit."

  "Well, it hurts me," I say, sticking up for myself. "And you know what? I'm your little sister. You should be looking out for me, not just breaking my heart."

  I start crying, something I never, ever do in front of them.

  "Fuck, don't do that," Smith says.

  "What?" I sniffle. "Tell you the truth? I want big brothers who love me and want to protect me, but you just... you just keep acting like Dad. Like I don't matter. And I'm so tired of it. That's why I left in the first place."

  My words fall to a silent room, and even the guys getting work done are staring at me now, silently.

  I wipe my eyes, noticing my brothers exchange looks.

  "What?" I ask. "What are you not saying?"

  Porter pushes back his thick dark hair. "Maybe we're saying that... uh... we're sorry?"

  I shake my head. "Stop, don't tease me."

  "No," Smith says, running a hand over his beard. "I mean, Porter's right. We're a bunch of fuck-ups, you know that. Truth is, we are sorry."

  "I'm sorry too, Sweetie," Nixon says. "We just saw him with you that day. Goddammit, our baby sister bent over and getting fucked by a sailor. What were we supposed to do? We had to hand his ass to him."

  My cheeks redden, and I hate that everyone is listening to the crude description. But I also hear the sincerity in their apologies. Yes, maybe not the most eloquent, but my brothers were never exactly wordsmiths.

  "You guys have treated me like a live-in housekeeper, never respecting me and my safety and--"

  "We know. Dammit, Sweetie, I feel like shit," Smith says.

  I cross my arms over my belly. "You should. This baby doesn't have a father," I say, feeling my eyes fill with tears again. "But at least, it could have three uncles."

  That gets them the hardest, and suddenly my burly-ass brothers are all choking up, standing in their tattoo parlor getting emotional.

  "Aww hell, Sweetie, we'll make it up to you, we swear," Porter says.

  I look over at Cheryl, who seems to have softened over the apology.

  "How do you plan on making it up to her?" she asks them, doing a good job as my backup.

  Nixon reaches behind the counter and pulls out a bin filled with envelopes. He sets it on the counter. "We could, uh, start by giving you these."

  "What is it?" I ask, stepping closer.

  "It's letters. From the sailor," Smith tells me, his eyes filled with regret. "Looks like there is one for every day he's been gone."

  Tears fall down my cheeks, as I reach for one out at random, pulling the paper from the envelope. I read, my heart pounding and hope soaring.

  He felt what I felt.

  Saw what I saw.

  Knows what I know.

  That we were meant to be together.

  Dear Sweetie,

  It wasn't supposed to happen that way. You and I, we were meant for more than a fling. More than a one-night stand, a half-hearted anything. Us, we were meant to set sail.

  I said I didn't want to be tethered to anything, tied down.

  But I was wrong. Crazy, right? To change my tune after such a short time?

  But I like crazy. In fact, I love it.

  Just like I love you.

  Your anchor,

  Sampson Stone

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sampson

  Most times when we get in port, I step off the boat and stretch my legs, feeling the earth beneath them. Then I start walking toward the nearest bar, hoping a drink will wash away my heartache.

  Today, though, is different. This isn't just any port. Any town.

  This is my chance to get Sweetie back, once and for all. Convince her I don't want to be a lone ranger. I want to fucking be her hero.

  Six months is a long ass time to be away from the girl you want. But now, I'm here and I want to find her, chase her down--beg her for another chance--and I'll stop at nothing. Her brothers can beat the shit out of me. She can tell me no, over and over again, and I'll keep trying.

  She is worth it.

  Worth everything.

  When I get off the boat, though, I feel like I must be goddamn dreaming.

  Because this? This is not what I expect.

  She's here. She, with her dark hair and bright eyes and smile so damn wide it sets my heart on fire.

  She's here, her eyes are on me, and I swear, it's like I've known this sweet thing all my life. She's holding in front of her a sign that reads ‘WELCOME HOME, DADDY’.

  I move toward her through the throng of people, needing her in my arms more than I've ever needed anything before.

  "Sampson?" she calls out as if just trying out the words on her lips.

  I nod, tears in my goddamn eyes, choking down my emotions as I reread the words on her banner.

  "It's me, Sweetie."

/>   "That's your real name?"

  She nods. "Yeah." I see tears are falling down her face and I am close enough to pull her into my arms, but I hold back, ever so slightly, pausing in this moment because I know once I kiss her lips, my life will never be the same. I need to memorize this. The sun shining down on us, the blue skies, the salty sea air, and the hope in her eyes.

  In both our eyes.

  "You came here for me?" I ask, clenching my jaw. Daddy.

  She nods. "We're having a baby, Sampson."

  Then she drops the poster and I see her in all her glory. She's in a red dress, with a blue scarf dotted with tiny white stars. She is my goddamn American dream.

  "Oh, girl," I say, stepping closer so there is no space dividing us anymore. Her perfectly round belly is the only thing between us. I drop to my knees, and I wrap my arms around her waist, kissing our baby.

  My own father was a sack of shit and I left home to start over. I don't know what it means to be a dad, but I know what it means to be a man.

  And together, we can figure out how to be a family.

  "You get my letters?" I ask, looking up to meet my girl’s eye.

  She nods, her sweet face streaked with tears. "Just yesterday."

  "And you read them?"

  She nods. "Why else do you think I'm here, telling you that I love you?"

  "You love me?" I ask.

  "With all my heart."

  I nod, already kneeling before her. The last place the boat stopped, I left the ship with one goal in mind. A diamond ring. I pull it from my pocket now. "Sweetie, I want you to be my anchor and I want to be your hero."

  "You mean it?" she asks, covering her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief. Around us, the crowd has turned to watch.

  "Marry me, Sweetie."

  She nods, letting me place the ring on her finger and everyone around us claps and cheers hooting and hollering. It's then I see her brothers a few yards away, watching us. I tense as I get to my feet.