An Unlikely Daddy

Marisa nodded. “Same kind of job as Johnny’s. Anyway, I gather from what he said that he heard I was pregnant and that galvanized him to get here. He said something about how Johnny had mentioned that I was safe here, among friends. So maybe it didn’t seem all that critical.”

“Or,” Julie said fairly, “he simply couldn’t get away.”

“Maybe.”

“So...” Julie grinned. “Is he gorgeous?”

“Julie!” Marisa’s shock caused her to gasp. “Are you kidding?”

“No, perfectly serious. Johnny wouldn’t want you to bury yourself, and a calendar is a poor way to measure grief. I always thought that old thing about wearing widows weeds for a year was a bit over the top. I mean, you grieve however long you grieve. There’s not some magic date when it stops. As for everything else—” she pushed back from the table and stood “—you’re still here, hon. You should snap at anything good that happens by, or the next fifty years are going to be awful. At least enjoy having a new face around for a few days. I’m off!”

Anything good that happens by? Really? Emotionally she still felt like a train wreck most of the time. Snap at life? The only snapping she’d like to do was angry.

Then her baby stirred again, reminding her she did indeed have to carry on. She scraped the oatmeal into the trash and made herself a fresh bowl to eat with her second cup of coffee.

Slowly, as the warm oatmeal and coffee hit her system, calm began to settle over her. When she was done eating, she sat for a while with her eyes closed, her hands on her belly, and concentrated on the new life growing inside her.

She already loved her child. It hadn’t taken long for that to happen. At first, during the darkest days, she’d hated her pregnancy almost as if it were a promise that would never be fulfilled. She’d gone through the motions of taking care of herself only because she had to. But then had come the day when she had felt the first movement. Even in the midnight of her soul, she’d felt an incredible burst of joy, a connection she had never imagined possible before she even saw the child. Her baby was growing inside her, and it was indeed a promise. Her child, her love. An unbreakable link was forged with those first tiny, almost bubble-like movements.

The future did hold something good, she reminded herself. It held this baby, Johnny’s final gift, a new life she needed to live for and work for. A purpose, a joy, a journey. Her imaginings might have turned to dust with Johnny, but now there were new imaginings. Maybe it was time to quit fighting with herself and just get on with setting up the nursery, making sure she had everything a baby would need. Maybe it was time to accept Julie’s repeated offer of a baby shower. Time to stiffen her spine and start taking steps of her own choice into all the tomorrows to come.

Because if she was sure of anything, it was that she couldn’t remain like this, paralyzed and hunkered down. If she didn’t change it now, she’d be changing it in a few months because life would force it on her.

Maybe it was time to stop being a victim.

* * *

The doorbell rang shortly after she finished washing her breakfast dishes and absently wiping the counters clean. Ryker, she thought. No one else she knew in Conard City would come by at this time of day. She’d half expected never to see him again. She hadn’t been exactly welcoming last night, and he could have called his duty to Johnny done. He’d checked on her. What more could Johnny have expected of him, of a man who was a stranger to her?

She dried her hands on a towel, smoothed her still-damp hair back quickly, then went to answer the door. She half hoped it was Fiona, who lived next door, coming to try to pry some more gossip out of her. Fiona, she often thought, needed to get a job now that her two children spent all day in school. She clearly didn’t have enough to do with her time. Of course, who was Marisa to criticize anyone else for that?

But as she had half feared, she opened the door to see Ryker. He looked more rested, his face less like granite this morning. Sunlight reflected almost blindingly off the snow.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly. He offered a small white bag. “Bagels from your local bakery. I figured they couldn’t be too bad for you. Want me to knock down those icicles?”

She felt as if a whirlwind had just blown into her quiet life. “The icicles are really bothering you,” she remarked, suddenly remembering that he’d mentioned them last night.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Most of them aren’t too dangerous, but why let them grow? Got a broomstick?”

Arguing seemed utterly pointless. She gave him her broom, then listened to the dull thuds from the porch as he took down the icicles. In the kitchen, she opened the bag he’d brought, and her nose immediately filled with the amazing smell of oven-fresh bagels. For the first time that morning, she became genuinely hungry. Melinda, the bakery owner, had also tossed in a few small containers of cream cheese. At that point it seemed churlish not to set out a couple of plates and make some fresh coffee.

Ryker came in, bringing the cold and the broom with him. “All done. Where should I put this?”

She pointed to the pantry door at the back of the kitchen. “Just inside there. Thank you.”

“Safety, that’s my thing,” he said as he put the broom away and shucked his jacket, revealing a gray flannel shirt that made his eyes and hair look even darker. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m okay.” It was the best she could say. “I made coffee to go with the bagels. Do you drink it?”

“By the gallon. But you don’t have to feed me just because—”

She interrupted him, feeling a sense of desperation. “Let’s get past this, okay? Maybe you showed up out of nowhere without any warning. Maybe I don’t know you from Adam, but you’re here because of Johnny. One way or another we should both respect his wishes. He wanted you to check on me. I’m not going to tell you to get lost, at least not right away. You brought breakfast, which was nice, and I do have enough manners left to invite you to enjoy it with me. Okay?”

For a couple of seconds he didn’t move, then a smile spread slowly. “Cutting to the chase, huh?”

“As much as I can. We can spend the next few hours fencing around, but honestly, I hate wasting time like that. Especially now. Sit down. Eat. I’ll join you. Thank you for the bagels.”

With a snort like a laugh, he took the chair she indicated at the kitchen table. The bagels were already sliced, so all they had to do was spread the cream cheese. Melinda, the bakery owner, had remembered that Marisa liked hers with chives. She hadn’t had room to feel much outside her own pained universe for the past few months, but she was touched now by Melinda’s thoughtfulness. So many good people around here, and she’d been avoiding most of them.

Maybe Ryker’s arrival had jarred her out of her self-preoccupation. Was grief selfish? She supposed it was.

At least he didn’t tell her to sit while he got the coffee, or otherwise imply that she wasn’t perfectly healthy. Lately, on the rare occasions she visited with her friends, they wanted her to let them take care of everything, as if she were an invalid. She understood they felt helpless to do much about anything else, but really, she was in good health and capable of getting a cup of coffee for someone.

But then the awkwardness returned. Ryker decided to pierce it. “I probably know more about you than you do about me,” he remarked. “Johnny talked about you from time to time, but I gather he said little about me.”

“He mentioned R.T. a couple of times, but, no, he didn’t say much. But then he didn’t talk much about his friends in the Rangers or later. It was like when he came home, he turned all that off.”

“Probably wise,” Ryker said. He washed down a mouthful of bagel with some coffee. “Compartmentalizing, we call it. Keeping things separate. Why would he want to bring any of that home to you?”

“But he talked about me,” she argued.

“Once in a while. Sometimes everyone talked about home. Sometimes we needed to remember that there was a place or a person we wanted to get back to. The rest of the time we couldn’t afford the luxury.”

That hit her hard, but she faced it head-on. Remembering home had been a luxury? That might have been the most important thing anyone had told her about what Johnny had faced and done.

“I didn’t know him at all,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, once again feeling the shaft of pain.

“You knew the best part of him. That mattered to him, Marisa. You gave him a place where that part could flourish.”

“But why?” she asked, opening her eyes. “Why do you get into this? This kind of life?”

“I can’t speak for Johnny. Only for myself.”

“Then tell me.”

“I was young, hotheaded and determined to do something important with my life. And in case you start to wonder, Johnny did a lot of very important things. But we don’t know what it’ll cost when we cross the line and take up the work. We have no idea in hell what we’re getting into. No one can.”

She managed a stiff nod and tried to eat some more bagel. The baby kicked, then she felt a little foot or hand trail slowly along her side.

“Anyway,” Ryker continued after finishing half a bagel, “we do it for a variety of reasons. I wanted excitement. Exotic places. A sense of mission and purpose. Adrenaline junkie, I guess.”

“And Johnny?”

Ryker spread his hand. “By the time I met him, I couldn’t have guessed a thing about why. By then he was one of us. And as you so correctly said last night, by then he wouldn’t have been happy with a tamer life. Somehow, I guess that’s how we’re built.” He frowned faintly and looked past her. “I don’t know if I can make you understand, or even find the right words. But there’s a point where the mission becomes everything. It motivates every breath we take. Not for everyone, mind you. But for some of us...well, we get hooked. We don’t just carry the sword, we are the sword.” He shrugged and picked up another piece of bagel. “Unfortunately, the world needs swords. I’d have made a lousy plowshare, I guess.”

The reference didn’t escape her. Her stomach turned over, and for a few seconds she felt so nauseated she wondered if she’d have to run to the bathroom.

But memories floated back, instants out of time, just brief things she had heard or seen with Johnny, moments when he had seemed almost like someone else. Moments when she glimpsed the sword. They always passed swiftly, wiped away by a ready smile, but she’d seen them. She just hadn’t wanted to remember them.