Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hornet

There was a car parked in my driveway and an older man ringing my doorbell when I got home. Didn’t know what he was selling, but I didn’t want any.

I asked, “Can I help you?”

He turned at looked me up and down. “Is your name Drue Davis, former specialist in the US Army fourth infantry division?”

“Yes, sir, I am. What’s this about?”

He glanced nervously at the car and stepped forward. “If I could have moment of your time. We need to talk.”

My hand automatically went to the small of my back, but then I realized my gun was in my gun safe. I walked the last few steps to my front door and pressed my hand against biometric lock while following his eyes to the car, there was another figure sitting in the front passenger seat. Maybe it was my security training making me paranoid, but strangers turning up on my doorstep with knowledge of my military background was setting off all types of warnings. When the door lock released, I walked in, and as I turned the man was right behind me. He must have been pushing eighty, so figuring that he wasn’t a threat I motioned for him to follow me into the living room.

“Let’s get this over with.” I saw him glance again at the car, “It’s a safe neighborhood, you worried someone’s gonna jack your car?”

The man ignored my question. After sitting down, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “Does the name Marcus Pemberton ring a bell, Mr. Davis?”

“Yes. We served together in Afghanistan. His wife Tabatha called me several weeks ago to say he had cancer and didn’t have long. I was going to visit but she said he wasn’t up to having company, particularly company that reminded him of his time in the service.”

“My name is Archibald Baldwin. I’m Tabatha’s godfather, the executor of the Pembertons’ will and their private attorney.”

“Is that even legal? Talk about a conflict of interest.”

He shot me a stern look and continued on with the conversation. “Were you aware that she was pregnant with his child?”

“Yes, she mentioned that,” I said, my brain slowly turning over his words… something about his phrasing sounded odd, something about the whole situation seemed off. “She was hoping to give birth in time for Marcus to meet his child before he passed. I’m guessing your presence here means that Marcus is dead?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct. He died two weeks ago, tragically Tabatha went into labor… there were complications, and she died a few days later.”

Fuck. I sometimes thought I’d had some shit in my life, but that took some beating. “What happened to the baby?” I asked. I vaguely remembered me and Marcus chatting about family back when we were in Afghanistan. His parents were both dead and he had no siblings. He often used to say that I was the brother he had never had. For those years we fought together we were like blood, but somehow once we left the army we had drifted apart and only saw one another maybe once a year at that.

“If you will excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Baldwin stood up and walked to my front door, I opened it and watched him go to the car. As he opened the back passenger door and started fiddling with something I felt my stomach lurch. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

Soon enough he emerged carrying one of those baby car seats with a blanket draped over it. He was struggling with the weight, so I rushed over, picked up the carrier, and carried it back into my house, then placed it gently on the coffee table between us. Good ol’ Archibald reached over and pulled the blanket back to reveal a tiny newborn baby. “As I said before, I was appointed the executor of their estate and given power of attorney over the child until she could be transported to her guardian.”

Even though I had a horrible idea where he was going with all this, I was still shocked beyond belief when he said, “Both parents completed all the paperwork necessary for the testamentary guardianship, because Marcus was in hospice at the time and Tabatha was involved in an extremely high-risk pregnancy. They wanted to secure their child’s future in the event that they were not physically or mentally competent to care of the child.”

“Well, being dead certainly qualifies,” I said before thinking.

“You were chosen as a guardian for their child because everyone else in their family couldn’t for various reasons. I was also led to believe that you and Mr. Pemberton had discussed the matter previously.”

Had we? Had we really? Marcus was with Tabatha when we were in the military together, they’d been trying to have a kid forever, but it wasn’t happening for them. There was one time when Tabatha had gotten pregnant, and Marcus was over the moon. I vaguely remembered us having late-night conversations where we promised to look out for one another’s families if we didn’t make it out alive. But it was just one of those deep and heavy unguarded conversations you have when you’re under daily attack by insurgents, and you think your days are numbered. Tabatha had lost that baby, the years had passed and nothing more was said.

I knew Marcus had no other family, but what about Tabatha? “Like what reasons?” I asked.

“There is an extensive list, but most were disqualified due to chronic drug and alcohol use There was also one case of being on probation and not being allowed around children.”

“Fucking hell,” I cursed. “So what you’re saying is I was chosen by default.”

“Not exactly, Mr. Pemberton remembered your promise, he felt that you were trustworthy, and he never forgot how you saved his life in Afghanistan.”

I didn’t really save his life, all I did was push him out of the way when I saw the gun being raised—if anything Marcus had saved my life on another occasion—but I didn’t argue the point. I just started at the old man speechless.

He continued, “If you agree to guardianship, you will receive the life insurance payouts on both parents as well as their home, which can be liquidated if you prefer. If you decline, the baby will be placed in the foster care system and the money will be held in trust for her until she’s twenty-four.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“Either you take her today or I will be forced to drop her off at the nearest CPS office.”

“I don’t know about this. I’m stable and not on drugs or anything, but I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby. Besides, don’t I have to go through security checks? Surely you can’t just hand over a baby?”

“All the checks have been done, and the courts have authorized you as an appropriate guardian. You have family to help out. It was the primary reason Marcus felt certain you would step up when asked to take his daughter in. He said you were a protector who would never let his battle buddy down.”

Marcus had saved my life by carrying me out of a gunfight on his back. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. Forget me pushing him out of the way of a bullet, he had carried me to fucking safety, that man had been a straight up hero but too modest to admit it. This was my only way of repaying that life debt. Just as he saved my life all those years ago, I would do my very best to save his innocent daughter from unnecessary hardship. I would care for her, protect her, and make sure she thrived. I would also make absolutely certain she never forgot who her parents were and how much they loved her. “Fucking hell. I’ll take her. Where do I sign?”

“There is procedure in place for remote transfers put in place by the rural healthcare initiative. As mandated by law, I need to sign into their local portal, and it will record a video of you accepting responsibility for the child. First you show an official government issued ID, then you need to read a written statement out loud confirming that you accept physical, financial, and legal responsibility for the child. After that, you sign the paperwork while the camera is still running.”

We went through the whole process, which was tedious as hell, the whole time I tried to convince myself that I could do this. If I was certain of one thing in life it was that my mother would be thrilled to finally have a grandchild. With any luck, my mother would help take care of this baby for me.

I took out my cell phone and snapped a few pictures of the sleeping baby. Sending them to my mother with a text message felt like the smartest move I’d made in a long time.

I am now the official guardian of a baby daughter. Come to my place ASAP with any baby gear you can find.

There was a shocked back and forth after that, but I told her we’d talk about it when she got here. Standing there staring down at the small baby in her car seat, I knew I needed to come up with a plan on how I was going to care for her. I gazed at the sleeping baby, she had wispy, dark hair like her father, but other than that I couldn’t see any similarities.

After the lawyer left, I sat down in an easy chair beside the still sleeping baby and started flipping through instructional videos on how to care for a newborn. There were accompanying diagrams on how to change diapers, make bottles, bathing, and dressing. There were three videos on the importance of burping. I saved the videos that seemed to have the best information and memorized as much as I could.

It didn’t take long for her to wake up screaming and crying. Her tears broke my heart. I picked her up, careful to hold her neck like the videos said, and held her against my chest. And then I began pacing around the room much as I had seen my parents do with other children in our extended family. She quietened down, but it was concerning that she never opened her eyes and looked at me.

As well as the baby I’d been presented with what looked like the baby equivalent of a basic army kit. But instead of uniforms, boots, and the like, I was given some packages of diapers, a few baby sleepsuits, a couple of baby formula canisters, bottles, and sterilizing equipment.

When my parents arrived, my mom went straight for the baby, taking her out of my arms and walking off with her while making little cooing sounds.

My father leaned close and asked, “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, son?”

I lowered my voice and gave him the rundown on how all this came to be. When all was said and done, my father seemed pleased by my decision, but that didn’t mean he believed I could care for a newborn on my own.

Once my mother walked me through fixing her formula, feeding and burping her, and changing her diaper, the baby settled down to sleep again. That’s when we all sat down in my living room to talk about the situation.

“So, what’s the plan here, Drue?”

I decided that rather than asking her for extensive help from the outset, I would play coy and try to get her to offer said help. I might have been a bit of a bastard not stepping up to my responsibilities like a grown ass man, but a baby from out of nowhere would be a hell of a surprise for anyone, “I don’t know. This was all so unexpected. What do you suggest?”

She leaned forward and looked me in the eye. “The way I see it, you can either get serious about finding a wife or hire yourself a nanny.”

“I was thinking you might be able to look after her during the weekdays and I’d care for her on the weekends.”

My mother chuckled and then immediately stopped. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You’ve been pestering me for years to have grandkids. Now that you have one, you don’t want to help out? I don’t get it. Is this because this little one is not of your blood?”

“No, you know fully well it’s not,” my mom said, her face blanching and I felt worse than shit.

“If you ever say something that disrespectful to your mother again, you and I are going to have problems.” My father intoned, and there was no humor in his words unlike the other times we riled one another.

I felt the sting of that rebuke deeply, because my parents had adopted me from my mom’s sister. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just don’t understand. You’re both retired and have a lot of time on your hands, whereas I work forty or more hours a week.”

“You’re right about us wanting grandchildren, and I’m quite honestly thrilled to meet my very first granddaughter. But we’re too old to be full-time parents. I’ve been there and done that and I’m not about to do it again simply because it’s more convenient for you. Of course, we’ll help out, and she can have sleepovers, but you took on this responsibility and this little girl is going to need you.”

“You always made it seem like being a parent was one of the great joys of your life. I honestly thought you would jump at the chance to have a little one running around again.”

“Have you taken a good look at this daughter of yours? She’s not going to be running around for a long time. Right now, she’s going to need round-the-clock feeding, a thousand diaper changes, and years of constant attention. More importantly, she needs to start bonding with an actual parent. Don’t take this commitment lightly, it’s not a game. Sometimes in life you have to face up to responsibilities whether you are ready for them or not. You’re a good man, Drue, and you do what’s right. This baby needs a parent to be present and participating.”

I swallowed thickly, only realizing in this moment what I had bitten off. “Then I guess you’re right about me needing a wife or a nanny.”

My father finally weighed in. “Selecting a wife is not something to be taken lightly. You are choosing a life partner, someone to share life’s burdens and victories with, not deciding which brand of cereal you want.”

“Why, Hunter, you’ve never spoken so eloquently about love before.” My mom said, sappily.

He slid one arm around her waist. “You inspire me to be a better man. I like that about you. Our relationship works because we have love and respect for each other.”

The pleased expression that jumped onto my mom’s face made it worth listening to their sentimental exchange. Sappy it might have been, but after forty-five years together it was good to see that they both cared so much about one another. Finally, my mom turned her attention back to me. “You’re father’s right, Drue. You’ve just taken on one of life’s biggest commitments, I too caution you against picking up woman you think will do for the sake of convenience. Maybe finding a nanny would be a good first step—someone with experience.”

“Someone with a car, probably as I can’t stick her in my motorcycle luggage box.”

“If you even think about putting my granddaughter on that motorcycle of yours, I’ll beat your ass,” my father warned me.

“Hunter, threats aren’t helpful. He was only joking, and you know he gets that sense of humor from you. Our son is intelligent enough to realize now that he’s going to need a car and a certified safety seat now that he has a baby to transport.”

Although the thought of riding in a cage tore a gigantic hole in my soul, I nodded. “Of course. I’ll need a car and a bigger safety seat when she outgrows this one. Not to mention a nursery and a proper crib and changing station.”

Mr. Baldwin had said that part of the agreement included inheriting Marcus and Tabatha’s life insurance and assets, I was having a hard enough time coming to terms with being a father, that anything else remotely legal seemed overwhelming. I’d already decided that her parents’ money would go into a trust fund, but I guessed some of the other cash could pay for a nanny and get my house babyproofed. Though as my dad had said, it’s not like she would be doing any running around for a couple of years yet.

My mother smiled indulgently. “How about your father and I stay for a couple of weeks to help while you look for a nanny. We can help with the baby and setting up the nursery.”

My anxiety settled at long last with that generous offer. “Thank you. Both of you. I’m lucky to have such straight shooters for parents.”

My mother clapped her hands excitedly. “I can’t wait to spoil this little girl rotten and then you get to handle her when she’s jacked up on sugar, sleepy, and whining for whatever the newest shiny thing is.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that to my kid. I plan to be a responsible parent,” I announced sternly.

My mother stood up. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. So, I know you’ve got this guardianship status, are you planning on adopting her?”

“Yes, hopefully. California law states that you can file for adoption after a year of being a legal guardian, or six months if the child has been abandoned.”

My mom shook her head sadly, “Poor little mite, what a start in life.” Before adding more brightly, “Now, why don’t you and your father head out to pick up baby supplies while I wait here with my precious granddaughter.”

“Her name’s Ariella Pemberton, though once the adoption is finalized, I’ll hyphenate her surname to Davis. I’m calling her Ariel.”

“It’s nice that you’re not taking away her biological family name. She’ll thank you for that one day,” my dad said.

“I’m not interested in replacing Marcus in his daughter’s life. I plan to keep her parents’ memories alive. It’s the least I can do for the couple who gifted me with my first child.”

My father’s squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve never been prouder of you than I am in this moment.”

Emotions rose hard and fast in my chest because my old man typically saved overt praise for when he truly felt I deserved it, he was such a gruff bastard. It meant his compliments felt all the more meaningful. Rather than saying something mushy, I choked out, “Are you sure you know what a granddaughter needs?”

“No, but I’m confident in our ability to figure it out.”

“Here’s your first tip,” my mom stated playfully. “Formula doesn’t come in pink for girls and blue for boys.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up the small can of powered formula on the bench. “It looks like she doesn’t drink milk at all. The can says it’s plant-based soy powder.”

“It could be that she’s lactose intolerant. Just buy what she’s used to drinking for now. You can talk it over with her pediatrician during her first visit. Are they sending you her medical records?”

I nodded, everything was moving so fast, but I vaguely remembered the attorney saying something to that effect. I needed to find a good doctor, because all doctors weren’t created equal. I knew that much from getting banged up in the military. Maybe I could ask my club brother, Ace’s old lady for a referral. She was an ER doctor after all.

My father grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door. “No need to look so shell shocked, son. If I can raise a child, so can you.”

I eyed my old man with new eyes. He was way more resourceful and competent than I ever imagined. I might have been able to disassemble a sniper rifle in record time, wire up a surveillance system, and strip down a Harley engine—but it looked like taking care of a two-week-old baby was gonna be my undoing. I needed to start paying close attention to every word that fell from the old coot’s lips, because he was starting to look like a fountain of information.