Ethan (18 page)

Shae felt the air grow thick in her lungs, her pulse kick against her temples. She would wait for Ethan if she knew, when he surfaced from the mire of his past, that they had a viable future together.  That guarantee thing again. She’d told Ethan that nothing was for sure and he should give up the idea of control. Did she need to listen to her own advice?

“He told me flat-out he can’t give me what I want.” He’d told her several times, in different ways, and while she’d begun to wonder if he was doing it more to remind h
imself, he had made no promises, hadn’t even hinted at the future. Shae steered the conversation onto what she could control. “I want a baby, Kara,” Shae said. “I want it like you want Carnegie hall.”

“Well, that’s a dream long past.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Shae pressed.

Kara shook her head, refusing to think about it.
“This is about you, Shae. Does he know you want a baby?”

Shae nodded. She felt the fluttering of her heart in her throat and pushed back tears.
“From the beginning.”

“And it’s not something he wants?”

How could he? He was still dealing with infidelity, his wife’s pregnancy by another man, and the loss of both.

“No.”

“And he knows it’s non-negotiable, as far as you’re concerned?”

“I’ve been clear on that.”

“Well, the man is blind. And stupid, too.” Kara shook her head.

Shae slid into a parking
spot on the street and climbed out of the car. Over the hood, Kara said,

“So h
e knows he’s at a crossroads? That any decision he makes now will define his future? That procrastination will only seal his fate?”

Shae wanted to la
ugh at her sister’s drama, but the truth was, Shae felt that she stood in exactly that spot herself. Part of her wanted to choose Ethan, to pursue him and see if they had something that lasted; the other part knew that if she gave up her dream of motherhood she would regret it for the rest of her life.

“Yep.”

They walked inside the restaurant and chose a table in the bar. Shae picked up the drink menu but Kara wasn’t ready to drop the conversation.

“
So let’s flush him and work on what you can have,” she suggested.

“Exactly my thinking.”
Sort of
.

“
Have you looked into fertility clinics?”

“It’s a done deal,” Shae assured her. She didn’t go into specific
s because it seemed way too personal, even with her sister, and Kara didn’t pressure her. She reached for her bar menu and announced,

“Fine. So
tonight we’ll get drunk and tomorrow we’ll get busy. We have a lot of shopping to do. Babies cost a lot, not that you need to worry about that. But they go through clothes and diapers by the hour.” She caught her breath and continued, leaning over the table, “I want to buy your baby his first sleeper. His first stuffie, too.” She gave Shae a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t already done that, have you?”

“Without you? Never
.” Shae smiled, thankful for her sister in new ways.

Chapter Eighteen

Ethan stood on the balcony, his back to the door, and watched the surf r
oll in along the silver sands of Coronado. He’d found what he was looking for, a support group for military personnel, some active, others retired, all seeking peace with a past they had difficulty reconciling with their present. He’d come back to San Diego for it, because it was home and because it gave him certain anonymity. He was far more recognizable in the small fish bowl of Hollywood than anywhere else in the world.

He heard footsteps on the stairs, but didn’t turn. The breeze felt good on his face, salty and damp.
And when he turned, it would be the start of something new. He supposed he had as much nerves about the unfamiliar as most people. But that he could shrug off and dive into, which was his way. It was the sharing of experiences, the exposing of himself anew, and it already felt a whole lot better when it was Shae he was talking to than the group he was about to meet.

“Still making up your mind
? Or waiting until the last possible minute before your nails are ripped from your fingers?” The scratchy words were accompanied by a drift of laughter.

Ethan took a last full breath of sea air and turned.

The man who had joined him still had the military posture—squared shoulders and starch in his joints—but was old enough retirement probably happened to him years ago. His face was lined, his smile genuine.

“Is it going to be that bad?”

“The first time is always the most uncomfortable.”

“
So, yeah,” Ethan agreed. “I am putting off the inevitable.”

“How long were you in, son?”

“Six years, Sir.”

He waved that away. “No Sir-crap here.” He extended his hand. “
Jim. I was a lifer. Put in twenty-two years, total.”

“You run this group?”

More laughter. “No. I spent more time running away from it. Kind of used to it now, though.” He pulled his wallet out of a pocket and shared some photos. His wife of twenty-seven years; a daughter and her two children. “Coming here is one of those things where it’s got to hurt if it’s going to work. But it’s worth it.”

Yeah, exactly. Shae was worth
it. So was his freedom. And he wanted it so he could explore all the possibilities with Shae.

She wasn’t coming back. She hadn’t said as much, but he felt it.
She’d called and told him she was staying longer than expected. She was visiting with family and looking at houses. He’d heard indecision in her voice, yearning even, and that was how he knew she wouldn’t return. She wanted Ethan but believed the situation was impossible. And he’d given her nothing to change her mind. So he would go to her, and he needed to arrive with something of value. A commitment. He wanted that. He’d wanted it before he’d met Shae; he burned for it now, with her. But this time, he needed to make sure he could stick to it. Honor it. Her.

Shae.

“You got that right,” Ethan agreed.

More steps sounded on the stairs and Jim reached for the door. “Come in when you’re ready,” he invited.

Ethan wouldn’t be more ready than this moment. He followed Jim into a small office cluttered with furniture. In fact, a sofa and chairs were the only pieces in the small room. No filing cabinet or desk; no pictures on the walls—not even a calendar. One wall was a large window that looked out on the Pacific. Two men and a woman were already seated and they greeted Jim with friendliness, then looked at Ethan with open curiosity.

He introduced himself. First name only, that seemed to be the norm here.
One of the men led the group, but from a position of experience, he said. Ethan sat and listened to the idle chatter as the chairs filled up and the room grew thick with body heat. Someone stood and opened a window and, to Ethan, it felt like the sudden release of pressure.

The group seemed to move naturally from casual talk to the pursuit of something more—progress. Yes, Ethan could see it in even the smallest question.

“Mary, how did the family picnic go last weekend?”

It was their first extended family gathering since
returning from her most recent deployment.

“Better than I’d thought.” She smiled. She was a
pretty young lady and was joined by her husband, a civilian.

Her husband agreed. “She warmed up fast. She kind of took command, you know? Walked right up to the family, put the salad on the table, greeted her sisters. Hugs and before long she was laughing, playing with the kids.”

Things Ethan hadn’t managed to do after his deployments.

Mary nodded. “I did what you said. I went in knowing what I wanted and how to get it. And totally okay with it
taking more than one or two minutes.”

And that was where Ethan had dropped the ball. He’d come back from the Middle East numb, not knowing what he wanted other than that elusive normal. But what was normal? He didn’t remember ever naming it. Only that he wanted it, and that it should have happened the moment he stepped on familiar soil.

Looking back now, hearing it in someone else’s words, made him realize that nothing was a given and anything worth having required work. A very simple sentiment but easily forgotten, especially with those things we hold close and dear and expect to just happen for us.

He
’d thought things should have fallen into place when he returned from each of his deployments and was mystified when they hadn’t. Confusion became disappointment and finally distance.

Chad was right. Loss had a geography. It could be mapped.
Each fissure of the heart followed to its origin, where understanding waited.

“You look like you’ve had a revelation,” the leader addressed Ethan.

Ethan nodded. “I remember coming home and nothing felt right, like I thought it should

feel.” So he understood the need to name what he wanted. To be specific about it. But what about those tools? “
But
how
did you know how to get what you wanted?”

And that began a discussion on the means of achieving goals. It wasn’t particular to returning military, they were the same approaches used by individuals who managed to achieve success
in the business world in their personal lives.

“What do you want, Ethan?”

He wanted to cast off the past and build a future. “A relationship that lasts. That goes deep. That survives even a blast at ground zero.” He wanted Shae. He missed her laughter, her courage and her soft, compassionate nature. And it’d only been a week since he’d seen her.

“
The first two are attainable. The last is a matter of faith.”

Exactly as Shae had said.
His faith had taken a serious hit during his time in the Middle East and was destroyed when he’d discovered Tina’s betrayal. But he wanted to believe in what Shae offered. In what he’d felt building between them.

And so Ethan dug in. Using Chad’s analogy, he
dumped his pack and took a stand.

Shae
took a seat at the patio table, between Kara and their mother.

“Didn’t you say Jude was coming?” she asked.

“He’ll be here,” her mom promised.

“He won’t stay long, though,” Kara warned.

“Why not?”

Her mom sighed and a small frown sank between her blue eyes. “He’s restless.”

“Is that why he left the force?”

“He didn’t leave,” her mother corrected. “At least, he hasn’t said as much.”

“He’s ‘taking a break,’” Kara supplied. “Those were his words.”

“Anything happen?” Shae asked. Jude loved his job. He found purpose in it. He’d told her as much. “On the job?”

“You mean like a shooting or something?”

Shae nodded, but neither Kara nor their mother had a chance to answer.

“No, nothing like that.”

Jude stood in the open French doors. Where Shae took after their mother in s
tature, both being petite with delicate bone structure, Jude was cast in the mold of their father and his Scottish heritage. He stood above six feet tall and his shoulders were almost as wide.  When he played high school football, they’d called him The Rock—short for Rock of Gibraltar. He had a natural strength that Shae envied.

“Hey, bro.” She smiled at him and it was genuine. She was always happy to see Jude.
“Long time no see.”

“You should come home more often,” he returned. He took the seat across from Shae and his smile almost reached his eyes.

Jude was always warm, open, the kind of guy who cared and let you know it. But he was different today. Distant. And it concerned Shae.

“What’s up?” she asked.
“Early retirement?”

He snorted. “At thirty-five? No.” He took a drink from his long neck and then placed the bottle on the table. He turned it absently while he thought and spoke. “I do need a break. Time to think about things.”

“What things?”

“Some work related things,” he allowed.

“Then that’s not really a break,” Kara pointed out.

He nodded. “You’re right.” And then
he turned the conversation. He leveled his gaze on Shae and said, “I hear you’re thinking about staying.”

Shae had looked at seven houses so far. Four had made the list as possibilities.

“I’m staying,” Shae said, infusing her words with a confidence she didn’t feel. Ethan tugged at her heart. A big part of her wanted to return to Santa Barbara, to Ethan. If given enough time, would he come to trust what he was feeling for her?  Would he give them the opportunity they needed to see where their hearts led them? They were unknowns. And time was exactly what she didn’t have. And whenever she found herself drowning in those thoughts, she turned off the tap and reminded herself of what was real. Of what she could do. Of which dreams she could actually hold in her arms. Next week she entered her window of optimum implantation. The appointments were set and she was going to keep them.

“You find a house you like?”

She nodded. “Several.” But she was indecisive. She’d never suffered from that character trait before and knew it was tied to her heart strings—and directly to her yearning for Ethan and a home they could build together, if he’d just let himself believe. . .

“Maybe you should rent for a while,” Kara suggested.

Shae had thought that, too, but there was no need. Any of the four houses met her needs. She liked one more than the others.

“No. I’m thinking I’ll put
an offer on that first house,” she revealed and Kara squealed in delight.

“That house is perfect for you!” She started bouncing in her seat.

“Perfect because it’s just around the corner from you?” Jude asked.

“Well, yes, of course!” Kara agreed.

“And only a mile from us,” their mother weighed in. “I’d say that makes it the obvious

choice.”

Shae laughed. “It also has everything I want and needs very little to make it my own.”

“I have a great painter,” her mom promised. “I just delivered his third baby last month. He’s got to be hungry for work and he does an excellent job.”

“Have you decided on a color for the nursery?” Kara asked.

Shae had told her mother about her impending pregnancy, and she had been joyful but had warned her about the changes she should expect.
She supported Shae and understood her desire for a child. Her mom had told her father—who had yet to speak to her about it. And Kara had told her siblings. So far, there was a mixed review. From her father’s frequent stares, she knew he worried about her. His one and only comment to Shae had been, “Parenting is a big job. It’s twenty-four-seven.” Nikki had gushed about tiny toes and layettes–but she was engaged and probably had the same kinds of things in mind as Shae.

So Jude wasn’t surprised. He glanced at Shae over his beer bottle and his eyes creased in genuine amusement.

“Never one for conventional standards,” he said.

“Never,” she agreed.

He nodded his approval. “And that’s the way it should be.”

“Convention is stifling,” Shae assured him.

“And safe,” Jude said.

Shae snored loudly to let him know what she thought about playing it safe. She never would have gotten where she was if she hadn’t taken a risk or two.

“Well, if you’re okay with risk, then why don’t you give mystery man a chance?” Kara asked.

Jude’s eyebrows shot up in question.

Her mother’s chin fell off her hand. “Mystery man?”

“There is no mystery, Mom,” Shae assured her. “There’s no man.”

“There was,” Kara persisted, even though Shae was sure her face was one big scowl. Her sister shrugged. “Sorry, Shae. You know I’m behind you one hundred percent, no matter what. But parenting is hard. I have three kids and there are days I know I wouldn’t make it through if I didn’t have Tim’s help.”