Page 26 of SEAL's Doorstep Baby

I had been responsible for Emily for all of her teenage years, and that meant that we were each other’s only family, and home, too. Becoming part of the navy SEALs had given me another family, but not a home. My home has always been Emily.

Receiving the news from the officer announcing her death had meant more than just losing my sister. It was losing my home, too. The only home I had. Until now.

Emily had not left me alone. She had left me another family: Maddie and Allison.

I thought it would be difficult to live together with Maddie and Allison, but contrary to my fears, it has all been smooth sailing.

Settling into the dynamics of having someone living with me feels like having a family. This is something I’m not familiar with at all, but it is something that I think I can pull off. I had gotten used to leaving the house for errands and returning to the warm welcomes of Allison and Maddie.

Tonight is no different.

Getting out of my truck, I make my way inside. I am welcomed home by the smell of something cooking, and the sound of Allison playing with Maddie is magical. It feels like all of it is coming together to heal the part of my soul that was damaged by the worst parts of the mission in the basin and losing Emily.

Lying in bed after dinner and putting Maddie to sleep I think about the entire day and everything that has come with it.

I could get used to this.I think, and I fall asleep.

For the first time in a while, I don’t have nightmares.

* * *

Like most of the previous week I follow my schedule like clockwork. First, check up on Maddie in the morning on the wonderful days she doesn’t wake me up first. The next thing I do is change her diaper and feed her, and after that we go on a run.

Maddie seems to love it more than me, giggling as I complete the last few miles of my routine like I have done religiously every single day. My princess claps—her way of encouraging me to greater speeds—and I oblige her by taking it up a notch. When I finally stop, having completed this last lap, we are both out of breath. Me from the punishing pace I set up, and her from her incessant laughter.

“Seems like you enjoyed that far more than I did, Princess,” I coo, unstrapping her from my stroller and lifting her into my arms so I can take a good look at her. Her hazel eyes are gleaming, delighted at the bouncing motion my arms provide.

“Your daughter is very beautiful.”

I had seen her in my peripheral vision, but I hadn’t really concentrated on the woman—dismissing her as a threat on gut instinct—and so, while I kept her in my line of sight, I hadn’t focused on her until she spoke to me.

“Thank you.” I respond lightly. I am not unused to compliments like these from strangers, so I take the compliment in my stride. As it always does, hearing Maddie referred to as my daughter instead of my niece sends a tremor of pain through me, but I force myself to ignore it. It’s bound to happen, and I need to get used to it before Maddie is old enough to feel badly about how I react.

“Haven’t seen you here before, but in all fairness I’ve only been here a couple of months. I'm Janice.” She extends her hand for a handshake and I take it in mine. A cursory glance at her is instinctive, born from a lifetime of searching for hidden weapons, but I already know what she looks like from when I spotted her earlier. Red hair and brown eyes complete her pleasant features.

“Haven’t been here long, really. Nice to meet you, Janice. I’m Jacob.”

“Nice to meet you, Jacob.” She smiles before she puts her earphones back in her ears and continues her run. Janice looks like the stereotypical helpful neighbor.

I need more of those,I think humorously, but I know I’d decline help if she offered.Sherry is different, just because she is Sherry, and because she didn’t really give me a choice.

I make the remainder of my journey back home swinging Maddie as I go.

Spending most of the afternoon coaxing Maddie into eating her dinner of mashed peas is difficult because, for some reason, she seems to think her dinner is better spent as paint for herbib than as actual food. I understand and sympathize with her reluctance.

“I know kid, it isn’t exactly gourmet dining.”

An expression of utter disgust crosses her face as she takes another spoonful of it. “Yep. You’re almost done, baby. I know I’d be making that exact face if I was the one eating it, but you’re a big girl and pretty soon you’ll be much bigger than me.” I encourage her, even though I know most, if not all of my words, don’t make any sense to her yet.

When I am finally done feeding Maddie, she is resting on her back, eyes closing as she fights sleep at every turn. I assign my focus to the next horseman of the apocalypse: laundry.

There are four household chores which make the four-man team I personally refer to as the horsemen of the apocalypse. Capable of bringing apocalypse-level despair and exhaustion in tow, they are the only things which fill me with the level of unease that a complete squadron of hostiles armed to the teeth was never able to manage.

Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, and cleaning bathrooms were dreadfully difficult to attend to. Having Allison with me is more than a blessing because I now have someone who doesn’t mind doing most of the cooking and vacuuming, freeing up a lot of time for me, for which I am immeasurably grateful.

Fishing a load from the washer, I open up the dryer to put the clothes in before I start another cycle, but there’s a finished pile of laundry in there. I return the load in my hands to the washer so I can attend to the one in the dryer.

Most of it is easily folded and arranged on a towel, right up until I come across some material I can’t quite figure out. All the gauze and netting makes it difficult to make a good guess as to what it is supposed to be.

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