The Baby Favor

by Chance Carter

  “Baker,” Jack said.

  I sniffed. “I’m fine, Whitmore,” I replied, and snapped my mouth shut. Hopefully, that would be the end of it.

  We trundled up to the exit and a soldier in fatigues waved us down, clipboard in hand.

  “Shit, what now?” Jack muttered.

  I wound down the window and the soldier halted beside my door and gave a cursory salute. “Afternoon, Sir. I’m afraid the road is closed this afternoon.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, and massaged my forehead. “Why would it be closed, Officer Wilkes?”

  “Sir, it’s orders from the base. There’s a cold front coming in. No one is coming out or going in until it passes.”

  “And when will that be?” My frustration grew. I’d already failed at collecting the necessary items to make life better for my men. I didn’t need a night in town with civilians to mull over the failure.

  “The weather guys say tomorrow, Sir. That’s my best estimate,” Wilkes replied.

  I tugged on my tongue with my teeth. No use getting frustrated with him. He had a job to do and this was it – maintaining safe entrance and exit for soldiers, and ensuring none of the townies entered the perimeter.

  “Sir?” Wilkes prompted.

  “Yes, thank you, Officer,” I replied. “We’ll be back tomorrow. You all right out here? Need anything?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Sir.” Wilkes saluted again, then sprinted back to his post inside the concrete sentry house beside the gates. He spared a glance for the sky, and the gathering clouds I hadn’t noticed up until now.

  “Shit,” I muttered, and started the engine. I usually didn’t swear in front of my men, but Jack was the exception. Apart from our separation – I’d left for Iraq and he’d been on assignment at home – we’d been through most everything together. I could trust him not to run back to our superiors with tales.

  I directed the truck back onto the road and made for town. The first fat drops of rain struck the windshield and I clicked on the wipers. Thunder rolled, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the falling darkness.

  “You’ve changed,” Jack said.

  “What?”

  “You’ve changed. I don’t think we’ve talked about it,” he continued. Jack had always worn his heart on his sleeve. He thought talking about emotional shit was appropriate. I begged to differ. Some things were better left unsaid. Undiscussed.

  “We’ll stop at the motel in Meek Springs,” I said. “I’ll put a call in to base and check that everything’s operating smoothly.”

  “That’s not even a good attempt at a subject change,” Whitmore said. “Things are awkward between us. Shit, Ryan, you even look different.”

  He hadn’t called me by my first name in years. “What is this, a date? Keep quiet, Petty Officer.”

  Jack grunted as if I’d struck him and a smidgeon of guilt cracked my cold façade. I directed the truck down the main road and scanned the buildings on either side. I’d never made note of the motel’s location – I’d never needed to.

  “Look for a vacancy sign,” I said, curt as a door snapped shut, and continued my own search.

  Civilians rushed for their cars, women and children, men in overalls. One lady tried opening an umbrella only to have it blown from her grasp. She shrieked and darted after it.

  My thoughts skipped to the woman I met in the store. Chanel. A beautiful name which matched her face, her body – I cut that off short. No chance I’d ever meet up with her again, and that was a good thing.

  I couldn’t afford distractions. They’d already cost me too much. They’d cost me lives.

  “There,” Whitmore said, and thumbed his window. “Next to the bar.”

  I pulled up in front of the place, then got out of the truck. Whitmore followed my lead and we traipsed through the rain, that was quickly turning to sleet, and into the interior of the Meek Springs Motel.

  “Good afternoon.” The elderly woman behind the desk shifted her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How many I help you gentlemen?”

  “Ma’am, we’re seeking board for the evening. Do you have any available rooms?” I asked.

  “Why, yes, Officer, I do,” she said. She shuffled out of her seat, then moved to a wooden pegboard on the wall opposite. She shifted two keys off the hooks, then handed them over. “Here you go. We don’t serve dinner, unfortunately, but the bar next door has a pizza night this evening. Most of the town’s residents will be there.”

  I could think of nothing I’d enjoy less. I was never big on crowds, and that got worse after my stint in Iraq. Crowds equaled danger. They meant the possibility of death or ambush.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I said.

  “Storm’s brewing,” the woman replied. “You soldiers keep safe, now, hear?” She offered up a querulous smile, then moved back to her chair. “Rooms are on the first floor. Numbers 101 and 103. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  This was a far cry from the reception I’d expected. The rumors which had leaked through the base, much to my chagrin, had all indicated a negative attitude toward the soldiers. Folks in the town had started a gossip chain about the base. They believed we performed unnatural experiments up in the Rocky Mountains. Ridiculous.

  “Thanks,” Jack said.

  We made for the door in the corner.

  “No funny business neither,” the woman said.

  I halted at the door, the key to room 103 biting into my palm. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  “No funny business in the rooms. I know what your type are like. Handsome soldiers. I met a few in my day.” She winked, then picked up a magazine and hid herself behind it.

  Five minutes later, I was in a motel room with a view of the town. It was picturesque, set against the back drop of the Rocky Mountains, clouds rolling overhead, and sleet pounding the cars parked out on the road. The streets had cleared.

  “Knock, knock,” Jack said, behind me.

  I flinched. Shit, had I lost my touch? I was so involved in the view I didn’t heard his approach.

  “What a shithole, am I right?” Jack asked, and entered my room.

  I turned on him. “You’d do well to change that attitude, Whitmore. These folks won’t take kindly to hearing that from you. The opinion of the base is already low.”

  “Didn’t seem that bad,” Jack said. “The old lady downstairs was friendly enough. Oh yeah, and that hot chick in the interior design store.”

  An ice stone dropped in my stomach.

  “She was nice, wasn’t she? Couldn’t take her eyes off you.”

  Blow the cobwebs off my pussy. The words came right out of her mouth as I entered the store, and they nearly floored me. It’d been so long since I’d encountered an attractive woman, and any thoughts of ‘pussy’ were out of the question.

  She gave me an instant boner. Luckily, I had a second to bring my fantasies under control.

  “You’re not going to agree with me?” Jack asked. “She was hot as fuck, right? Nice piece of ass. I wouldn’t mind dipping into that, myself. In fact, maybe when I’ve got a few hours away from base, I’ll –”

  “Stop.”

  Jack flashed a sharp grin. “What’s wrong, Ryan? You don’t like the thought of me with her? I’d treat her real nice too.”

  “That’s inappropriate, Whitmore.” I sighed and knuckled my forehead. It was as if he wanted to see how far he could push me before I snapped.

  “Dude,” Jack said, “who are you? What happened to you? You were never Don fucking Juan, but you didn’t back away from women in the past.”

  “We’re in uniform and I’ve got a base to look after.”

  “Whatever,” Jack said. “You’ve changed.”

  I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t I made myself clear about this?

  “You’ve got to talk to someone about it.” His tone softened. “If you keep that shit bottled up inside, you’ll end up exploding and then you’ll really regret it.”

  “Thanks for the
psychoanalysis, Whitmore,” I replied, and turned back to the view, only so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.

  “We were buds,” Jack said. “Fuck it, man, I wish I’d been deployed with you so that –”

  “If you’d been deployed with me, you’d be dead,” I snapped. Dead like all the other men who were under my command. Dead in the desert. Dead with sand clogging his nostrils and filling his ears. I clenched my fists.

  “You couldn’t have predicted the ambush,” Jack said. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Ryan. Even your superiors didn’t blame you for it. Why else would they have given you a Purple Heart?”

  “Just stop.”

  But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t, and it made me crazy inside. It brought back flashes of memory. Gunfire popping off, the whizz of bullets over our heads, the truck leading the convoy exploding. Ears ringing.

  “You carried him for miles,” Jack said. “How can you –?”

  “He died anyway.” The artificial noises faded, slow to disappear. “They all died. I was responsible for those men and their deaths, the losses their families incurred, all of it was my responsibility and my fault. I don’t expect you to understand that.” The last sentence whipped through the motel room.

  It was a hurtful thing to say to a man who got lost in the ranks while I shot ahead, even with the mistakes I’d made. Another crack of guilt. Shit, I could’ve handled all of this better, but the incident was still too close.

  “Fine,” Jack said. “Fine, Lieutenant.”

  An awkward silence was broken only by the rush of water against the roof and windows. A car sidled up the street and parked down below. The sky had darkened and lampposts clicked on up and down the street.

  Apparently, the residents of Meek Springs were accustomed to extreme weather. It didn’t stop them from leaving their homes and heading to the bar.

  Jack’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Sorry for bringing it up,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I – uh, I know you don’t want to talk about it. We good, Baker?”

  I swiveled and gave him the barest of nods, a slight smile twisted the corner of my lips. “We’re good,” I said.

  “Thank fuck for that. Listen, though, I’m starving, man. What’s say we head next door and grab a bite? Pizza sounds good right about now.”

  It beat army rations. Though, to be fair, the chef on the base did a fantastic job cooking for the men and women up there. I’d had plenty of great meals in the mess hall. “Yeah, let’s head out.”

  “Aw yeah! Let your hair down, Baker,” Jack said. He reached up and ruffled what was left of my hair – buzz cut – then chuckled. “Leggo!”

  “Contain yourself, Petty Officer.”

  He ignored me and practically sprinted for the door. It only hammered home the fact that the soldiers on base weren’t all that at home. If I were only able to improve the aesthetic… but no, it was too late for that now.

  I’d come up with another plan in the morning. For now, pizza and an early night’s sleep was the best I could do for myself and for Jack – the soldiers on base would have to wait for their upgrade.

  I headed into the hall, and the lights flickered. An ominous sign?

  I shook off the paranoia and followed Whitmore to the stairs.

  Chapter 3

  Chanel

  I sat on the bed in Paula’s room and massaged my temples. I hadn’t even changed out of my work clothes – jeans and a blouse – because going home meant seeing mom, and I just wasn’t in the mood for another day of ‘quiz Chanel about why business isn’t better.’

  Paula fluttered around the room, from the dresser to the mirror, then back again, and held a dress to her bosom. “What about this one?” she asked, and swayed from side-to-side on the spot. “Do you think it’s cute? Think it will land me one of those soldiers from the base.”

  “Uh – what?” I hadn’t told her about my run-in with the handsome albeit grumpy Lieutenant Baker. My cheeks burned in anticipation of relaying that particular tale.

  “What’s up with you? Your mind seems to be all over the place today. Is it, like, the weather getting you down?”

  Thunder rumbled outside as if on cue.

  “Maybe,” I replied. But no, that wasn’t it. For the first time ever I’d felt a real connection with a man, he just happened to be totally out of reach. No way, this had to be my hormones. God, the minute I told Paula about it she’d likely spout off more ‘cobwebbed pussy’ rhetoric, and that was the last thing I needed to hear.

  “Okay, you’re actually starting to creep me out a little. You’re just staring off into space. Is it your mother? Is she bothering you again?”

  “No,” I said. “Well, yeah, she’s always bothering me, but that’s not it.”

  “Then what’s up.”

  “A soldier came into the store this afternoon,” I said. “Before the storm, obviously.” Storms mattered in Meek Springs. The folks here measured everything by them. The weather could equal life or death when it brought blizzards that wiped out crops and livestock.

  “A soldier. Is that why you dropped me like a hot tamale?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Oh God , he heard me talking about cobwebs on, you know.”

  Paula screamed a laugh and dropped her dress in a puddle of fabric. “You’re kidding.” She dragged a chair out from behind her dressing table, turned it backward, then sat down wide-legged, her forearms balanced on the crossbar. “So? Did he ask you out or something?”

  “What? No, of course not. He wanted decorations for the base,” I said.

  “Okay, so no big deal.”

  “No.”

  Paula blinked. “You’re losing me here. Why are you as red as cranberry sauce? I mean, big deal, soldier came in and asked for stuff. Nothing happened, right?”

  “Nothing happened physically,” I said. “I just – I can’t get this guy off my mind.” I stood up and paced in front of her. “Which is really stupid since he’s almost twice my age and he was super rude at one point.”

  “Was he hot?”

  “Is it cold tonight?” I countered.

  “Freezing.”

  “Exactly. Muscles and those eyes.” I shuddered and rubbed my arms. What on earth had gotten into me? I’d never been one affected by looks. I preferred men who had a gentle spirit, not grumpy assholes who couldn’t see past their own ego. “He was a dick, though.”

  “Why?”

  “Just acted like one,” I said. “And he was super secretive. It’s just a soldier. And I guess, I know it’s stupid, but I guess I’m fixating on him for other reasons.”

  Paula narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”

  “Come on, you know it’s not –”

  “I just hate hearing about it, okay?” Paula rose from the chair and stomped over to her cupboard. Whenever I brought up this topic her mood changed. She was already temperamental, this just accentuated that side of her.

  “Fine,” I said. “Then we don’t have to talk about it.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Silence fell and Paula ripped hangers along the bar in her closet. One, two, three. She tore a dress out, snorted, then tossed it over her shoulder. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tried not to think of Ryan Baker and his muscles and his bad attitude.

  My dad died in combat a long time ago. Navy SEALs all the way. I respected him and loved him dearly, but the minute he was gone, mom took over and I couldn’t help feeling a little sour about that.

  “What kind of friend am I?” Paula asked, and spun on the spot. She grasped a red dress in one hand and a black in the other. “Huh? What kind?”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about, what kind of friend am I if I can’t be supportive of you when you want to talk about – you know, that?” Paula shimmied her shoulders up and down. “So go ahead, talk.”

  “Paula –”

  “Talk!”

  “You already know how I feel about Meek Springs,” I said. “I
just can’t help thinking that me fixating on this soldier guy is for a reason other than his mouthwatering physique.”

  “Damn, he must be hot if you’re calling him mouthwatering. You’re super picky.”

  “I’m serious. I think it’s my subconscious and it’s ridiculous. I’m so desperate for someone to whisk me away, out of this town, away from mom’s store and into a place I can call my own.”

  Paula sighed. “You know how I feel about this.”

  “I know,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t want me to leave, and that I should be grateful for what I have.”

  “A steady job. A roof over your head. The pick of any guy in this town.”

  “Talk about slim pickings,” I said.

  “Still, Timothy’s totally into you and he’s the most eligible bachelor in town,” she replied.

  I struggled to restrain an eye roll. “Great. Just what I wanted. That’s the thing, Paula, I don’t need some guy to sweep me off my feet. It’s wrong that I crush on some random soldier dude, but I know why it’s happening. I want out. I want away from this town. I want my own life.”

  “I want, I want, I want,” Paula said. She was a straight shooter and I trusted her to set me back on track when I strayed too far from the rails.

  “Selfish, I get it.” But that wasn’t entirely fair on me. Dad died when I was just 12 years old. I spent the next seven years under my mother’s wing, more like in her talon-like grip, and all I wanted was a little freedom. Something better than being told what to wear and where to go every single day.

  Shoot, she’d probably lose her shit at me the minute I got home.

  “Quit thinking about her,” Paula said. She had a knack for reading me. “She can’t reach you here, and unless she plans on marching down to the bar in this weather, she’s not going to find you.”

  “The bar?” I shook my head. “I’m not going to the bar. I thought we were having a slumber party.”

  “What are we, pre-teens? Get real. We’re going out.”