Longing sliced through me at the thought. Over the past couple of months, I’d been feeling pangs of homesickness. Not so much for the place, but for the people. My brother had fallen in love and gotten married, and I felt like I’d missed out on their entire blossoming relationship. Last time I’d talked to him, Link said they were trying to get pregnant, and I wanted to be there for the birth of my niece or nephew. And what about when my own kid was born? I’d want Dad and Link there for that, too.
Dad and Margo had been pretty vocal about wanting grandkids. How many times had they asked me when I planned to settle down and get married? They’d want to be actively involved with my child: family dinners, school functions, sporting events, they’d want it all.
Hell, I wanted it all.
I suddenly missed my family so bad it hurt.
Even more painful was the pull I felt toward Eagle. The way he’d held me after I told him about the ambush, the fear in his eyes when he reminded me that I’d almost lost my life. I hadn’t been prepared to deal with the emotion—the connection—I’d felt then, but I was now. And part of me was worried that he was right. That I needed to get out before it was too late. Before the next time I couldn’t get my helo airborne.
“I’ve been gone a long time,” I replied. “I’m ready to go home,”
She stared at me, no doubt reading my expression. “I see that. My God, girl, how are you gonna tell Jake and Link about the baby?”
Sure, I was worried about how my dad and brother would react, but they weren’t my main concern. “The bigger question is how am I going to tell Houston?”
“Houston?” she asked.
“Eagle,” I amended.
“His name is Houston?” She snorted. “Priceless. I know exactly how you’re gonna tell him. You’re gonna get your ass on a plane, and the minute you see him, I want you to be like… Houston, we have a fucking problem.”
Of course, she had to go there. I tried to keep a straight face, but her hopeful expression was too comical. The whole situation was suddenly ridiculous. Unable to keep myself in check any longer, I doubled over, holding my stomach as I laughed.
“I’m serious! You can’t buy a better opportunity than this. You’re a badass Air Force pilot, Nae. If you’re getting out of the service and doing the whole mom thing, you damn well better go out like an astronaut. Every pilot’s dream, right? Damn, girl. I can’t believe you got knocked up by a Houston. Where do I find me one of those?”
She was killing me. “Stop,” I begged, still laughing.
“Oh, hell no. You’re never gonna live this down. Now, come on. We’re ordering pizza for lunch because we have all kinds of shit to do. You make the call to the base and your landlord, and I’ll try to find you a flight and start getting you packed.”
Her take-charge-and-get-shit-done attitude subdued my laughter as reality hit me. I was leaving the Air Force. I was finally going home… pregnant.
“Thanks, Monie Love,” I said. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I got you, boo,” she said, looking up from her cell phone long enough to flash me a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna get you through this.”
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone and called the base.
Naomi
I’D ALWAYS BEEN quick on my feet. Fast reflexes, critical thinking, informed decisions… it was all part of the job description, and I prided myself on being one hell of a capable pilot.
Until my early morning flight home to Seattle.
Never had I felt so incompetent and ill-prepared in my life. After spending the entire three hours in the sky brainstorming about how I’d approach Eagle with our situation, the plane touched down and I still had nothing. Nada. Zilch. Null. As I waited for my luggage, I mentally created a checklist of my current obstacles and accomplishments.
Pregnant, check.
Walked away from my military career, check.
No job or employment prospects, check.
Turned in the key to my furnished apartment, check.
Sold or gave away all my belongings except what I’d stuffed into my luggage, check.
No place to live, check.
Okay, that last one wasn’t entirely accurate. I always had a room at the fire station, so I’d never be homeless per se, but I wasn’t about to raise my kid in a biker clubhouse. Sure, I’d turned out okay (arguably), but I’d also seen a lot of shit that I’d like to shield my kid from. Besides, a crib wouldn’t fit in my room. I barely fit in my own room. I needed a place of my own.
