Caleb stared at him.
Daniel had commanded soldiers.
He had briefed senior officers.
He had operated under pressure in situations he could never fully describe.
None of that helped him talk to an eighteen-month-old.
“You and I got off to a weird start.”
Caleb sniffled.
Daniel leaned on the crib rail.
“Apparently I’m supposed to be Daddy.”
The child held out both arms.
Daniel froze.
That seemed unfairly easy.
He lifted Caleb carefully.
The toddler immediately rested his head against Daniel’s shoulder.
Daniel became completely still.
He looked toward the doorway.
Rachel was standing there.
She had tears in her eyes.
Daniel whispered, “Don’t.”
She smiled.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking loudly.”
Rachel wiped her cheek and returned to the bedroom.
Daniel sat in a rocking chair with Caleb against his chest.
Five minutes later, the boy was asleep again.
Daniel did not move.
He remained there almost an hour.
The next weeks were not magically easy.
Daniel resented decisions Rachel had made without him.
Rachel resented the years of uncertainty that military life had forced her to endure.
They argued.
They apologized.
Sometimes they argued about the apologies.
Marcus returned to their lives slowly.
The first Sunday he came over to watch football, Daniel made a point of handing him a beer.
Marcus accepted it.
Neither mentioned that first day.
Eventually Marcus did.
During halftime, he looked at Daniel.
“You really thought I had a secret baby with your wife?”
Daniel stared at the television.
“For approximately forty-five seconds.”
Marcus laughed so hard Rachel came in from the kitchen to ask what happened.
Daniel refused to explain.
Marcus explained immediately.
Rachel laughed even harder.
Daniel decided returning home had been a mistake.
But something else happened slowly.
Caleb began following Daniel everywhere.
If Daniel went to the garage, Caleb followed.
If Daniel sat on the couch, Caleb climbed beside him.
If Daniel put on his boots, Caleb brought him the wrong shoe.
One morning, about three months after Daniel returned, he was making coffee when Caleb wandered into the kitchen.
Rachel was still upstairs.
Caleb looked up.
“Da.”
Daniel froze.
Caleb pointed toward the refrigerator.
“Da.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Did you just call me Dad, or are you asking for something?”
Caleb pointed again.
“Da!”
Daniel opened the refrigerator.
Milk.
Apparently “Da” meant both.
Daniel poured a little milk into Caleb’s cup.
The boy took it.
Then wrapped one arm around Daniel’s leg.
“Daddy.”
Daniel stopped.
That word was clear.
Rachel appeared halfway down the stairs.
She had heard it.
Daniel looked at her.
She covered her mouth.
Daniel looked down.
Caleb was already drinking his milk, completely unaware he had just changed something enormous.