The SEAL's Secret Daughter Read online

  “Sure you do. For now.”

  He ran a hand through his wet hair as he exhaled. He’d heard that teenagers came equipped with plenty of sarcasm and attitude, but he’d hoped for a few more years of getting to know his daughter before he’d have to experience the full effects of adolescent hormones. “Trina, I’m trying to understand why you’re upset. I really am. But I’m gonna need you to walk me through this.”

  “Chantal said that all men leave. But I was hoping that you would be different. Then again, you left us, too, so I don’t see how.”

  Okay, so apparently this had something to do with her mother and him. That was just one more sin that Ethan was never going to live down. He could follow his twelve steps and try and make amends all he wanted, but some things were out of his hands. Circumstances were already too far gone and it wasn’t fair for him to pretend that he could undo the past. He sighed and attempted a different approach.

  “Tri, when I was younger, my mom told my dad she wanted a divorce.”

  “So your mom left you, too?” She lifted her lips into a quasi snarl. “That makes it okay for you to leave?”

  “Not exactly. My parents shared custody of me. I was with my mom during the week and with my dad on the weekends. I hated it. So that Christmas, all I wanted from Santa was to have all of us back together in the same house.”

  “Only babies believe in Santa.” She snorted, adding condescension to the current display of charming preteen attitude.

  “Well, I was five,” he replied a bit too defensively. Yep, ignoring each other would have definitely been preferable. Or perhaps he could’ve found a suitable cat meme for this situation.

  His daughter waited a few beats then asked, “So I’m guessing they didn’t get back together?”

  “Nope. My mom died in a car crash with her new boyfriend on Christmas Eve.”

  Trina’s face softened, but it wasn’t his intent to garner any sympathy points or to make this conversation about him. “What I’m trying to say is that I know what you’re going through. It’s normal for kids to hold out hope that their parents will eventually get back together.”

  “Wait. You think that I want you to get back together with Chantal?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re mad at me for kissing Monica?”

  “As if!” Trina rolled her eyes.

  “Then why else wouldn’t you want me to date her?”

  Her brows shot up. “Are you guys dating?”

  “Not formally.”

  “Exactly.” Trina nodded as if everything was perfectly clear. However Ethan was more puzzled than before.

  “Help me out here, Tri. Please.”

  “Chantal said that you left as soon as you got what you wanted from her.”

  “And what did she say I wanted from her?”

  Trina shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess the same thing as all those other men who came over but never took her out on dates. Kissing and gross stuff like that.”

  A chill went down Ethan’s spine and a cold rage spread through his body. If Chantal knew what was best for her, she better stay long gone. Trina must’ve sensed the shift from his confusion to his disgust because she scooted closer toward the door, as if she needed to be ready to get away from him, too.

  “I’m not mad,” he lied to his daughter as he fought to unclench his hands. At least, he wasn’t mad at her. “You can always tell me anything—say whatever is on your mind.”

  She studied him for several moments before taking a deep breath. “If you and Monica aren’t dating and you’re just kissing her, then that means you’re gonna leave her, too.”

  Ethan closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest. “So you don’t want me to leave Monica?”

  “No. I like her. And I like Gran.”

  “I like them, too, Tri. But just because we like somebody, doesn’t mean that they’ll like us back.”

  “You don’t think Monica likes us?”

  “Well, I know she likes you,” he replied honestly. “She smiles a lot when you’re around and she always has books set aside for you and she asks me how you’re doing in school all the time.”

  “Hmm,” Trina said, tilting her chin. “Maybe she likes you, too, then.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because last Monday night when we were eating, she asked about you.”

  Ethan’s chest expanded. Now they were getting somewhere. “Oh yeah? What did she want to know about me?”

  “She wanted to know if you were getting any better at making dinner. Then today, she told me she had a cookbook for you at the checkout desk. It’s called Crock Pot for Dummies.” Trina giggled at the last part.

  “So that’s two out of three,” Ethan shrugged as though he didn’t really care one way or the other. He knew better than to rely on a kid for matchmaking experience, but since he rarely got to engage in real conversations with his daughter, he convinced himself that he should ask more questions. “What about Monica smiling when I’m around?”

  “Hmmm. It’s more like a frown whenever you’re talking to her. But when you’re not talking to her, she does kinda stare at you. A lot.”

  “Wait. How does she stare at me?”

  Trina grinned. “The same way she was looking at you after you kissed her.”

  Chapter Nine

  The following Monday night, as he drove to the Alvarez house to pick up Trina after his meeting, Ethan thought about how he could get Monica alone, running through several scenarios in his mind. He needed to talk to her about that kiss between the library shelves last Thursday, mostly to explain why he’d left in such a hurry. While he hadn’t been expecting it, he also hadn’t been quite ready for it to end. In fact, who knew how far out of control things would’ve gotten if Trina hadn’t interrupted them?

  Thoughts of Monica’s mouth against his had filled up his weekend to the point that he’d gone so stir-crazy being cooped up in his apartment, he’d needed a physical release. The weekends were usually his time to get outdoors and do something that fueled his adrenaline and reminded him that he was alive. Unfortunately, his choices in extreme sports were now somewhat limited with an eleven-year-old in tow.

  It was still a bit too early in the season to get out on the rapids, so he couldn’t take Trina white-water rafting. He’d tried to teach her how to snowboard on Saturday, but all the recent rain had made what little snow remained on the runs pretty icy and she’d given up after only two falls.

  She’d been a good sport, though, asking to hang out in the lodge with the book she’d brought along so that he could spend an hour or so out on the slopes. They’d driven down to Boise on Sunday to try out an indoor rock climbing gym, but it wasn’t the same as scaling up a granite cliff or, better yet, boulder jumping.

  So by the time he pulled the truck in front of Monica’s house, his nerves were humming with energy. Monica was already on the porch and he smiled at her apparent eagerness for his arrival.

  Until he got closer and saw her face.

  “What happened?” he asked as he crossed the front yard.

  She was twisting a cloth towel in her hands. “I was in the kitchen doing dishes and didn’t even hear them leave.”

  “Hear who leave?”

  “Gran and Trina. They were in the living room listening to one of her Elvis records and then the needle started skipping. When I went in there to check on them, they were gone.”

  Gone. The word was a punch to Ethan’s gut. “Maybe they went for a walk?”

  Monica shook her head. “They took my car. I tried to call you, but it went straight to voice mail.”

  Ethan checked his phone. He’d turned off the ringer when he was at the meeting and forgot to switch it back on.

  “Let’s go find them,” he said as he jogged to his truck.

  “No, they’r
e already on their way back. I called the police right away and Carmen found them at Noodie’s getting ice cream. Here they are now.”

  A squad car turned onto the street and Ethan’s stomach sank as if he’d swallowed a rock. He never wanted to see his child in the backseat of a police car again.

  When he opened the door, Trina flew into his arms. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” he told her as she clung to him.

  Mrs. Alvarez’s eyes were huge and her face was pale as Monica helped her out of the front seat.

  “I don’t know why I did that, mija.” Gran handed Monica’s purse to her, which was probably how the older woman had gotten the car keys.

  “Oh, Gran,” Monica said, pulling her into an embrace. “Are you okay?”

  “Just a little shook up. We left your car at the ice cream shop. Officer Gregson wouldn’t let me drive it back.”

  “I can get it in the morning,” Monica offered. “Come on, let’s get you into bed now.”

  When the two women went inside, Ethan gently set Trina down and kept a protective arm around her.

  “It was a pretty bad episode this time,” Carmen started, but her walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Tell Monica that I’ll swing by in the morning and give her a lift to get her car.”

  Ethan waved her off and would’ve bundled his daughter into the safety of his truck and taken her straight home, but when he opened his passenger door for her, she shook her head. “Tootie’s still in the house. I have to go get her.”

  Monica was just coming down the stairs when they got into the entryway. “Ethan, I am so sorry that this happened on my watch.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Everyone is safe and sound. Besides, how could you have stopped it?”

  “That’s what’s eating me up. I couldn’t stop it, short of locking Gran up and turning our home into a prison.”

  “It’s my fault,” Trina said, her lips curled downward as the toe of her sneaker tapped at a dark spot on the hardwood floor. “I just didn’t want her to go alone. I called out to Monica, but I don’t think she heard me over the record player. Gran kept calling me Bettina and saying, ‘Don’t tell Mom.’”

  “Bettina is Gran’s sister.” Monica took off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. “Sometimes she has flashbacks to when she was a kid and gets the past confused with the present.”

  “Then I guess that would make you her mom?” Ethan suggested, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t want Monica beating herself up over something she couldn’t really control.

  “Sometimes I feel like that.” Her dark, silky hair was loose and curly and Ethan realized it was the first time he’d seen it out of a ponytail or messy bun. When was the last time she’d ever been able to actually let her hair down and relax?

  “Well, I still shoulda ran and got you,” Trina said, her face filled with remorse. “But she seemed so happy and I thought I could just...you know...take care of her myself. When we got to the ice cream place, though, she was all confused and didn’t know who I was or who she was and I started to get real scared. The teenager behind the counter started yelling at her and Gran started yelling back and then the teenager called us nutjobs and threatened to call the cops if we didn’t leave and that’s when Officer Gregson showed up.”

  “Mija—” the older woman was holding her tap shoes in one hand as she came down the stairs “—I have a craving for some ice cream. Let’s run into town and oh... Hi there, Ethan. What are you and Trina doing here?”

  His daughter’s eyes were wide and she took a step closer to him, but her courage surprised him when she spoke calmly to the older woman. “We already went to get ice cream, Gran. Remember?”

  “Oh. That’s right.” Mrs. Alvarez turned to Ethan and it was as though he could see the entire events of the evening pass across her face as her memory returned. In fact, suddenly, the woman looked much older than her eighty-something years. “I hope you’re not mad at me for getting arrested with your little girl.”

  “Nobody got arrested, Gran,” Monica said, gently removing the dance shoes from the frail woman’s bony hand. “Officer Gregson gave you a ride home because you seemed pretty confused.”

  “That’s been happening a lot, huh, mija? Me getting confused.”

  Monica’s eyes filled with tears, but she swiped them away quickly. Her voice broke when she replied, “Yes, Gran. You have Alzheimer’s. It makes you forget things sometimes.”

  Mrs. Alvarez’s face fell and Ethan could only imagine the complex emotions she was going through as the significance of the diagnosis settled over her. How many times had she and Monica probably had this same exact conversation, both of them reliving the painful revelation each time?

  Nobody spoke for several seconds, until Gran reached out and stroked her granddaughter’s upper arm. “I suppose it must be terribly difficult for you, taking care of me.”

  “You took care of me, Gran. It’s only fair that I take care of you.”

  The older woman studied Ethan for several seconds before her eyes returned to Monica. “But when I took care of you, I’d already experienced the best years of my life. You’re too young for such a burden, mija. You need to be out on dates and having fun and thinking about starting a family of your own.”

  “I already have a family, Gran.” She lowered her voice before switching to Spanish. “Tu es mi familia.”

  But the older woman shook her head as she patted Monica’s hand. “Tell her, Ethan. Tell my girl that she should be going out on dates.”

  “I’ve been trying to get her out on a date for six months, Mrs. Alvarez.” He shrugged, resorting to what came natural to him in tense, uncomfortable moments like these. Teasing. “But your granddaughter won’t listen to me.”

  “If I was in a home, she’d go out with you.”

  “This is your home, Gran.”

  “Oh, mija, you know what I mean. I saw the brochure in the trash can last week. That one you brought home with the pictures of all those gray-haired people gardening and swimming in a big fancy pool and playing bingo. What was it called?”

  “Legacy Village,” Monica sighed, but her shoulders were ramrod straight and Ethan could tell that the fight hadn’t left her. “It’s a memory care center.”

  “Meh,” her grandmother tsked. “They probably won’t help me get my memory back, but maybe we should check it out all the same?”

  “Gran, I’m not going to take you there.”

  “Then I’ll have Ethan take me there. You’ll take me right, mijo?”

  “I’d rather take you out dancing, Mrs. Alvarez,” he said, attempting another wisecrack to cover the fact that he wished he could be anywhere but there, thrust into the middle of an extremely personal family conversation.

  “Oh, mijo, I’d spin circles around you. But Monica would love to go dancing with you.”

  “Gran,” she warned her grandmother, and Ethan would’ve laughed at how tight Monica’s jaw had locked down if his own wasn’t still sore from clenching it a few minutes ago when he’d thought his daughter was missing again.

  “There’s a dance at the VFW for St. Patrick’s Day,” Mrs. Alvarez continued. “Why don’t you two go to that?”

  Monica said something about Gran’s memory only working when it was convenient. Or inconvenient. He couldn’t be sure because she’d mumbled the sarcastic remark under her breath.

  “I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Alvarez,” Ethan replied. “Why don’t we go over to Legacy Village on Saturday and check it out, then we can all go to the St. Patrick’s Day dance afterward together?”

  “Oh, what a brilliant plan. You’re such a smart one.” She patted his hand before looking at Monica. “Isn’t he smart, mija?”

  Monica narrowed her eyes as she sized up both of them. “I think the word you’re looking for is sneaky.”

  * * *

  On Saturday morning, Ethan
and Trina arrived on Monica’s front porch to take her and Gran to Legacy Village, just as he’d promised. Or threatened, depending on who was asked.

  Monica had seen him on Tuesday and Thursday at the library, but they’d only talked about two things: how Trina’s math tutoring was going—she was already learning tools for telling numbers and symbols apart. And how Gran was feeling—more episodes and forgetfulness this week, but so far no sneaking out of the house.

  What Monica and Ethan still hadn’t discussed was that heat-filled, mind-boggling and totally unexpected kiss a little over a week ago.

  Maybe it hadn’t made much of an impression on him, Monica decided after he still hadn’t mentioned it when she’d ran into him and Trina getting sub sandwiches at Domino’s Deli on Wednesday night. The man had probably kissed more women than he could count and her pathetic and awkward attempt at a make out session in the very public library was just another check mark for his man credentials.

  So if Ethan could pretend that nothing physical had happened between them, then so could she. In fact, she was surprised that he’d shown up at all today.

  “You guys made it,” she said when she answered the door Saturday morning.

  His wide shoulders went back and his chin went up. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

  “I just know that most people wouldn’t want to go tour a retirement home on their day off. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d found something more fun to do. Like jumping a motorcycle across the Sugar River Gorge?”

  Everyone in town knew that Ethan was quite the daredevil and adrenaline junkie. The other day in the library, Trina had mentioned the recent snowboarding and rock climbing excursions and how she needed to start downloading books onto her smartphone so she could read when he dragged her along on his adventures.

  “Nope. Motorcycle jumping is always on Sundays.” He wiggled his eyebrows before lowering his voice. “Besides, I would’ve blamed myself if I didn’t make it today. Contrary to the way you always look down your nose at me, I don’t take my promises or my commitments lightly.”