She handed him three six-packs of beer bottles, one at a time. Then she handed him a large pre-made salad with dressing and a dozen ears of corn.
“If everyone comes, we’ll have to split the corn in half. And I got some fresh cherry tomatoes, but I’d like to go to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow, if you’re game to get more veggies.”
“Sure thing. Let’s go early.”
“I miss not being able to run over to Dad’s store and just pick stuff up.”
Tucker wrapped his arm around Brandy’s non-existent waist. “But now he’s free to travel, and he’s happy, babe. Jillian’s taking good care of him.”
“Not complaining,” she sighed as she leaned into him, placing the side of her face against his chest. “I can’t wait to not be pregnant. I want to see her little face. I’d also like to be able to see my toes again, take a bath, put my own shoes on—stuff like that.”
Tucker snickered softly but didn’t correct her. He accepted the fact that she was probably right—they’d be having a daughter. How women knew these things mystified him.
“Hello?” Brawley’s booming voice nearly vibrated the windows.
Tucker walked into the living room and found his best friend carrying a large brown shopping bag. “What did you bring?”
“Some energy drinks, beer, water, more beer, and a pie.”
Tucker noticed Brawley’s skin was tanned, his eyes were clear, and he appeared to be in about the best shape of his life. These days, he no longer smelled of alcohol, either. He’d spent several months in a private brain clinic while he slowly came back to the living, becoming more and more the man Tucker used to know. He’d just transitioned to work support for the Teams as a BUD/S instructor until he could get his twenty in. Alcohol wasn’t restricted but closely monitored. Tucker could see he was following the program.
“You look like you’ve been enjoying the beach,” said Tucker.
“Only this time I’m watching the wet and sandy. Were we ever that dumb, Tucker? Those little tadpoles don’t know shit about anything. They look like they’ve just begun to shave.”
“I think we were the same,” Tucker disagreed.
“Nope. You never looked like a boy. You were built like a man from the first time I hurled that pitch at you and you hit it over the fence. My coach said we were going to have to check your birth certificate. All that black hair all over your body when you were ten. Fuckin’ ten, damn you!”
Tucker ducked so Brawley’s punch didn’t connect. “Dorie coming later on?”
“Yup, I’m supposed to text her when you’re ready.” He leaned around Tucker to speak to his wife. “Brandy? She’s sorry she couldn’t get a sitter to come help you today.”
Brawley and his wife had four-month-old twin boys. They also had a three-year-old daughter, Jessica.
“No worries. We’re doing very simple tonight. Hamburgers, homemade potato salad, green salad, and corn. I got ice cream for dessert. Just easy stuff. No candlelight gourmet meals tonight,” she answered. “But we’ll have plenty, so I hope she’ll come and bring the kids.”
Several minutes later, three other Team Guys arrived, each bringing more beer and a couple more salads. Fredo brought a rototiller and more garden tools in the back of his beater truck, including a flat scraper Tucker grabbed onto right away for stubbing out the tufts and roots in the future garden area. He also brought some scrap lumber for the firepit.
It was a typical SEAL work party. There was lots of attitude, some practical joking that had them chasing after each other, dousing themselves with water bottles or beer, and long silent minutes of solid work. Tucker laid out what had to be done, and without assigning anyone to any specific task, the men just filled in, working as one cohesive team.
That’s how they worked overseas too. It was like they maintained a hive brain. One person’s good idea would be supported and acted upon by others. It didn’t take long before the entire front yard area was tilled, raked, and looked like powdered chocolate, instead of the abandoned weed fest it was when they first bought the home.
T.J. began to build a berm running parallel to the sidewalk, extending it along the side of the driveway. The rest of the men joined in, until it was complete.
“You gonna put in a fence on top? asked Fredo.
Tucker thought that was an excellent idea. “Maybe just a couple of feet high, tall enough to keep a toddler from escaping, yes! Gonna have to get the materials next paycheck, though.”
“You got some extras left over from your new fence, T.J.” Fredo nodded to the tall medic.
“I’ll get Joe Benson. You remember? Frankie’s dad? We’ll come over and build that for you,” said T.J.
“Dude, now you’re making me feel obligated. Spoiling me.” Tucker was a little embarrassed.
“Just say thank you, Tuck. I don’t think you fully comprehend what it’s going to be like here very soon. Life will never be the same,” T.J. returned.
Fredo stepped up and pat his shoulder. The Mexican SEAL was more than a foot shorter. “We’re helping you out now, ’cause no way you’ll see us hanging around after the baby comes. I’ll let Mia and the wives do all that shit.”
Fredo’s comments drew much agreement.
The men stacked Tucker’s tools beside the front porch and returned the other tools and equipment to the bed of Fredo’s truck. Tucker could hear soft music coming from the warm, orange insides of their little fixer as Brandy was beginning to set things out on two long folding tables. She brought a tray of hamburgers ready for the grill and turned the gas on to warm it up.
Her voice caught all of their attention. “You guys go on inside and wash up. You can text the girls to come over. I wanted to eat in about thirty minutes. That sound fine?”
“Yes, ma’am,” was the resounding response.
As two of the men went inside, looking down at their cells, T.J. and Tucker moved several stumps next to the firepit, adding them to the large boulders to create makeshift stools for later enjoyment. An old wine half barrel was rolled over to the join the circle.
T.J. dusted his hands together and wiped his forehead with the back of his shirt sleeve. He pointed to the palm trees, standing to attention, their long green fingers waving. “Those are real cool, Tucker. Where are you going to put these?”
“Haven’t decided.”
“I’d put them side by side up front along the berm. Sort of makes a statement, you know?”
Tucker examined the area where the berm turned to follow along the driveway. If he got a few more, he could make a palm tree entrance that would befit the Queen of Sheba.
He shook the vision off and nodded in the direction of the front. “I like putting them up front.”
It would be the furthest from the house possible. But they’d be planted. And maybe they’d guard his little family like lions on a grand, gated entrance.
Chapter 2
Brandy was relegated to their large second-hand recliner and made to prop her feet up. Fredo’s wife, Mia, had noticed her ankles were swollen from the heat and from being on them most the day. Dorie sat next to her with the twins fast asleep in a double stroller. Luci and Mia were cleaning up dishes in the kitchen and putting away leftovers.
Dorie’s daughter, Jessica, had been running wild outside with several of the other kids, including Fredo and Mia’s Ricardo and their twin toddlers. Danny and Luci Begay’s two boys—Griffin and his adopted Iraqi boy, Ali—had been conducting sniper attacks on the adult population, and occasionally the other children.
At home, Griffin was Ali’s favorite target. Here, the boys used cherry tomatoes plucked from Brandy’s green salad. Every one of the children had red stains on their clothes and on their faces. Most of the SEALs did as well.
As Ali ran past Brandy, she grabbed him by the arm and firmly stopped his forward march.
“Ali, not inside the house!” She kept her grip on his upper arm until she saw a forlorn nod after several seconds of trying to wiggle free. She p
ulled him toward her. “I mean it, Ali. You’re going to get one of the other ones hurt. They’re smaller and can’t keep up. And I’ve just painted the inside of this house, unless you want to come and spend all day repainting it. Right?”
His dark eyes grimaced as the group of younger children accordioned behind him, finally catching up. The little orphan was embarrassed, she could tell. Her heart softened.
She scanned the crowd of children and knew these were little eyes of future SEALs. At this age, Tucker would have been right in the middle of them.
Dorie inserted herself into the conversation. “Griffin, you know better. You have to show your brother. Don’t let him get into trouble.”
Griffin spouted off, “But he started it. It was all his idea. I told him!”
That caught the attention of Luci Begay from the kitchen. “You two!” she shouted, wiping her hands on a towel. “What am I going to do with you? Give me that,” she demanded of Ali.
He pulled away defiantly, clutching the slingshot Danny had made for him out of an old inner tube and remnants of their burned-out soccer stadium.
“I won’t do it inside. I promise. Honest.” His expression was pure angel, and Brandy could see all the stories were true. He was so advanced for his age in physical ability, and, because of how he’d had to live in the war zone, he was stronger and faster than anyone else. He’d seen things none of the other children ever would, if they were lucky. Now in second grade, he was prone to getting into fights with much older boys.
And he usually won.
Luci sighed and told them to go outside and pick on the men sitting around the firepit. “And be careful that Jessica, Courtney, and the twins don’t get hurt.”
Ali and Griffin instantly showed expressions of horror. To make matters worse, Courtney Talbot scolded them in her pert, five-year-old voice. “Your mother’s right. Don’t you know you have to be nice to girls?” She gave the hands-on-her-hips pose just like a little mother.
In the background, Ricardo snickered, and Ali whirled around to face him but thought better of it before he could begin his defensive attack.
“What’s this?” said Brawley, who suddenly appeared from the outside, holding Jessica.
“I started it,” giggled Brandy. “This is a no tomato zone.” She pointed to Ali’s slingshot and his sticky red fingers.
“Oh, I get it now,” Brawley said with a grin. He kneeled next to Brandy and motioned for the group to come closer as he set down the squirming Jessica. In hushed voice, he began creating a conspiracy the children were all too eager to participate in. “Let’s plan a sneak attack on the insurgents out there. Not much fun attacking babies and mothers, is it?”
The children shook their heads in unison.
“Besides, they have ways of ruining your equipment.” He was pointing to Ali’s slingshot, but all four wives burst out laughing. Brawley himself was having difficulty keeping a straight face and kept his focus on the serious faces of his co-conspirators.
“You need more ammunition?” Brandy asked.
“Yes, ma’am. You got any?”
“There’s another basket in the refrigerator. I guess this is for a good cause, but Brawley Hanks, if just one of those tomatoes lands anywhere in my house, you’re gonna personally re-paint the whole place, inside and out!”
Brawley turned to the kids again after retrieving the red orbs from the refrigerator. “You see what I mean? You don’t piss off the wife of a SEAL.”
He winked at Dorie who beamed back at him. Brandy saw the love between them in full bloom again. It warmed her soul to see this. She hoped their hard days were finally behind them.
Brawley left with his merry band of outlaws in tow. They tiptoed out the kitchen door. Within seconds, their little bodies could be seen rounding the outside of the house, Brawley crouching in the lead. Jessica wandered back in, lethargic, seeking her mother’s lap, rubbing her eyes.
Five minutes later, Brandy heard the pirate attack coming from the front yard with screams and shouts of tomato warfare piercing the peaceful night air.
She stood in the doorway while Tucker helped their guests coral all the kids and see everyone safely off. He ran down the driveway toward her, barefoot, in his faded and ragged jeans, shirtless and happy, and it took her breath away. At forty-one years of age, he’d kept his massive shoulders and corded arms, and slim waist (at least compared to his upper torso) without an ounce of extra fat anywhere. He easily could have played professional football; he was so magnificently put together. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
As he approached, her hands went to her lower belly, rubbing their baby as she slept.
“Look at you, sweetheart! All ripe and ready to burst!” he whispered before he kissed her.
“Now I know why I feel so big,” she answered, continuing to rub. Tucker’s hand joined hers in the gentle baby massage.
“You are pretty big. Are you sure we got the dates right? You look ready to go, no more of this three-to-four-week stuff,” he said.
“I was just wondering that until I watched your body move down the driveway like some huge, Greek god. Tucker, the baby is big, because of—well, look at you!”
“So what you’re sayin’ is that I’m going to have an Amazon daughter?” He cocked his head as if bracing for a slap.
“At least I’ll be there to school her in the advantages of being a big girl. That way, perhaps she won’t have to go through all the same things I did.”
Tucker looked down at his toes. He was thinking about something, and Brandy could tell he was hesitant to speak it out loud.
“Go on. Spill it.” She threw her arms around his neck, bellied up to him so he could feel the baby kicking, and said, “Whatever it is, I want to hear it.”
He tenderly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers then sifted through her hair, ending up with a long forefinger rubbing across her lips. “I think it was harder on you because you lost your mom just when a girl probably needs her mom the most. Does that make sense?”
“You were a woman in your past life, or is there something you’re needing to tell me?” She was stifling a smile, but it was tough.
“Nah, I don’t understand women much at all. But I know you, Brandy. And I know what’s in your heart, I think. I think that’s why you’ll be a great mom, boy or girl. Because you know how it feels to not have one while you’re still young, sweetheart. And you’re going to make up for whatever you didn’t get.”
She was stunned. She’d never thought about it that way. The constant refrain of “Dad is the best dad a girl could ever want, and he’s done the perfect job,” was the only thing she allowed herself to consider. But viewing it now, Tucker was right.
“Did I mess up?” he asked, tipping back her chin with his thumb and two fingers. His eyebrows rose in a question.
“Not at all. You’re more perceptive than I ever thought a man could be. You do know me. You know everything about me. And what I haven’t told you, you’ve just learned on your own. I thought women were the only ones who were supposed to do that.”
He leaned back on his heels, separating their chests as he arched backward. “Ah, well, I think it’s because I never met anyone quite like you. I never had this. And I’m not letting it go. Like you said, it was the perfect start. I’m up for keeping it that way, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely, Tucker. We’ve both waited a long time to have our hearts fed the way they are now. I’m ready to spread the love to our baby.”
She followed him to the fire pit, the embers glowing red but without flame. He brushed aside the coals and covered them with dirt then replaced the grate and stood with her, examining the stars above. A gentle breeze blew off the ocean, and the salty air was soothing. She knew she’d sleep better tonight. They’d both worked hard today and enjoyed sharing their project with their extended family.
The wind kicked up with more intensity, rustling the foliage at the neighbor’s property line. It also caused
the palm trees, still in their square wooden pots, to flutter, sounding more like a gentle waterfall.
He was turning to go inside, but she stopped him.
“Can we plant these tomorrow?” she asked, pointing to their gift.
“Okay. T.J. gave me a good idea today about putting them at the front of the property, like sentries.”
“Sentries? I don’t get it.”
“Like two big guards at a gate. Like big lions on a gate.”
“Guarding our fortress kind of thing?” She was still puzzled.
“Well, yes, and no. A statement of strength and grandeur, I think he meant. And power. Like they’ll ward off evil spirits. Protect our family.”
She shuddered. It never was a pleasant thought considering all the danger there was out there in the real world. Her warm and satisfying world was a bubble she never wanted to burst.
“It’s a good thing, Brandy. That way, we can see these trees, as they grow, silhouetted against the orange sky, like it does here at sundown nearly every night. We’ll see those trees, and we’ll feel how strong our love is. How nothing can hurt us ever.”
“Okay. Well, they don’t look very majestic right now. Kind of stumpy but with lots of promise. Someday, like the man said, they’ll be thirty feet or more.” She was still slightly alarmed with where the conversation was going. “Are you thinking this way because of who gave them to us?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, probably a stupid thought.” He chuckled before he continued. “It sounded better when T.J. said it, that’s all.”
She laughed at his return to being light-hearted.
“I think that sounds like a great idea, Tucker. We’re creating a dynasty here. It’s the start of a new adventure.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they headed to the door. Just before she stepped over the ledge, something made her turn and glance over her shoulder at the palm trees fluttering in the shadows. They were nearly invisible. She leaned back to study the sprinkling of stardust one more time before she said good night to the outside world.
SEALed Protection (Bone Frog Brotherhood Book 5) Page 2
