A Navy SEAL's Surprise Baby. Laura Altom Marie

      CALDER RODE STRAIGHT home from the base only to find Quinn and Pandora heading down the block. He parked his bike in the garage, then hollered in their direction, “Wait up!”

      After closing the door, he pocketed the opener, jogging to meet them.

      “Hey.” She veered the stroller against the sidewalk’s edge to make room for him. “How was your day?”

      He shrugged. Now that he’d caught up with the duo, he wasn’t sure why he’d even tried. All smiles, Quinn kicked and made baby noises. Pandora had been smiling. However, since his arrival, she’d pressed her lips into a telling line of tension. “You two headed for the park?”

      She nodded. “They have great baby swings—you know? The one’s that are safety seats?”

      “Guess I’ve never much noticed.”

      “Quinn loves them.”

      Another dig at Calder’s parenting? Or lack thereof?

      They walked the last two blocks in silence. The temperature was already cooling off with a hint of approaching autumn in the air. Even from their distance, the sounds of kids playing—laughing—rang clearly through the air. He couldn’t remember ever having been that kid—fully carefree. Sure, after his mom had remarried, things settled down, but he’d been past the playground age.

      Upon reaching the park, it struck Calder as surprisingly full. “There always this many people here?”

      “It’s a park. Most times, there’s even more.” Her sideways look, not to mention her pinched expression, didn’t sit well with him. Yet again, he felt inept. He’d lived a few blocks from what was apparently a family mecca, yet it’d never even occurred to him it was anywhere he and Quinn might want to be.

      “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

      “It’s not a big deal, Calder.” She parked the stroller in front of the lone empty bench in a row of five. “Now that you’re here, want to put Quinn in a swing?”

      Visions of Quinn screaming whenever Calder tried cramming him into his car seat ran through his head. “No, thanks.”

      Pandora effortlessly plucked Quinn from his stroller to plop him into the rubber swing seat and strapped him in. As if the kid knew what came next, he giggled and kicked. The size of his drool-filled grin tugged at Calder’s heart.

      From Pandora’s first small push, Quinn howled with laughter. He clapped his little hands and bounced and kicked. His eyes shone with what Calder could only describe as pure glee. Burning heat forced his eyes to close for a moment while at the same time he swallowed the knot at the back of his throat.

      He’d never seen Quinn like this—truly happy. But now that he had, something in him clicked. Was this at least partially what parenting was about? Not just keeping your child fed and clean, but figuring out what produced adorable grins? Then earning them over and over again?

      “You want to push?” Pandora stepped aside, urging Calder to give it a try.

      “What if I push him too high? Is he going to fall out?”

      Hands on her hips, she cocked her head. “Really?”

      “Well...” He forced a deep breath. “Stranger things could happen.”

      Approaching the swing, Calder couldn’t have said why, but his pulse raced and his palms began to sweat. He crouched to reach the little guy, then pushed just enough for Quinn to shriek all over again. “He’s doing it!”

      “You thought he wouldn’t?” Pandora asked. “See? You’re doing great. Now whenever I’m not around, you can bring him here on your own. Once he starts walking, he’s going to love the rope bridge and slide.”

      Calder took one glance at the wood-planked bridge hanging between two roofed forts. “No way. Too dangerous.”

      Now Pandora was the one laughing. “If you think that’s scary, wait till he gets his first bike.”