The Warfighter, the Storm, and the Moon

Chapter 34: Birthday

"Hey, Dad—"

"Sorry, I'm a lil' busy right now. C-can this wait?" Dad hurriedly replied.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing. Your mother's in labor."

"Wai—WHAT?!" I shouted, startling Kayak. "WHA-WHADAYYA MEAN SHE'S IN LABOR?!"

"Yeah, she's kinda been pregnant for the last eight months while you were on your deployment... I know comms were strict 'cause of OPSEC, so we weren't really able to discuss the matter in length... or tell you."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SHE'S KINDA BEEN PREGNANT?!' I'M GOING TO HAVE A SIBLING?!"

"Yep."

"DAD!! THAT'S NOT HOW THIS WORKS!! YOU COULDA TOLD ME!!"

"Uh... doc's callin'. See you in a week," he hastily signed off, leaving me stuck deep in a state of surprise.

"Sharky? You good?" Kayak asked.

"It's official: I'm comin' with you!" I replied with a new sense of energy, pushing the pedal to the metal (as much as the law allowed) and quickening our leisurely trip to the airport. After parking in the right deck, I yanked my duffel bag from the back of the car and charged into the airport, Kayak hot on my heels. After a quick checkover of the outgoing flights, I found that only Kayak's flight—a Delta—was going to New York, with the closest being a Southwest flight to somewhere in Maine.

What the hell was wrong with that airport?

"'Scuse me!" I said, dashing up to the Delta desk. "I need a ticket on the 16—er, 4:05 to JFK, please!"

"Uh... the flight is full, sir," the gate agent replied after checking her computer. "I can put you down as the first one on the waitlist."

"Wha—how many people could possibly be going to New York City in freakin' October?"

"Some sort of academic convention. We do have another flight heading that way with available seats, but it won't be departing until 11:22 tomorrow morning."

I was very close to losing my shit, but thankfully refrained from taking it out on the agent (she was just doing her job). After frustratedly purchasing the 11:22 flight, we walked away. I began bitching to Kayak——only to find that my swim buddy had walked back to the desk.

"Hey, you said my friend would be first on the waitlist if he tried for the 4:05 to JFK, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. In that case, could you yank my seat and put me on the 11:22 instead? He really needs to get to New York."

"I can do that, sir. And what is your name?"

"Ajay Nayak," he replied, taking out his ID as I walked back to the desk, surprised.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed. "You dumbass, you're supposed to be meeting up with your folks!"

"Well, your mom's pregnant, so that kinda takes priority," Kayak chuckled as he turned towards me. "My parents won't mind me flying in late. And you know I've slept in worse places than an airport."

"Kayak..."

"Just give the lady your credit card."

With no idea on how to respond, I quickly paid for my ticket—a window seat in an emergency exit row—before taking my papers and shoving them back into my pocket. Before I made a dash for the terminal, I gave Kayak one last stare of disbelief.