Part One
Friday
19:15 November 7
Starbucks
Washington, D.C.
I’ve been nursing my double mocha Valencia for half and hour. I either have to finish it and go back to my room, or make the call.
How do you thank a man, who has just pulled your very undeserving butt out of an inevitable fire? He didn’t have to stand up in court and say those things. It didn’t save my career, ok I accept that, but it did keep me out of jail. I know he likes to be appreciated. I know this from years of working with him. I also know, he doesn’t like it when someone makes a fuss about actually thanking him.
Heaving a heavy sigh, I dig for my cell phone and make the call.
“Rabb,” he answers.
“Hi Harm. Listen,” I hurry on before he can interrupt or hang up, “can a lady buy a sailor a drink, to express her appreciation for a bold rescue. That is, if you aren’t busy.” I hear music in the background. What am I thinking? This is Friday night; this gorgeous man isn’t going to be alone on Friday night.
“It was nothing,” I knew he would say that, “you deserved a break.”
“Look Harm, I’m sorry I bothered you I…I just want to say thanks.” I try as gracefully as possible to back away from an embarrassing situation.
“No wait, Mattie and I were just finishing dinner, why don’t you come over,” he offers, ever the gentleman.
“No, I don’t think so, that wouldn’t be a good idea.” I’m feeling terribly foolish.
“C’mon,” he coaxes, “we could catch up.”
“Harm, you’re busy, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” This is truly awkward.
“You’re not interrupting anything Carolyn,” then he chuckles. “Mattie? You think me and Mattie? It’s not like that Carolyn, but she’s not old enough to drink, and you sound like you could use a friend or two right now. It’s rough, I know, being cut loose suddenly.” Lord, this man is sweet. Along with every other woman who has ever met him, I fall in love all over again.
“Well, I could use a friendly face, but they don’t serve that kind of drinks here. How does Mattie feel about fruit juice?” I smile, still off base but more comfortable.
“About the same as any teenager,” he laughs. “Where are you?”
I give him directions.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. See ya.” Very simple, very forthright.
I guess I still have one friend left in the world, and an unlikely one at that. Wonder what Harm is doing with a teenager in tow. I guess I’ll find out in a few minutes.
Saturday
20:20 November 8
Bud Roberts’s front porch
“Harm,” she whispers, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Relax, Bud wouldn’t have invited you, if he and Harriet didn’t want you, and if you find yourself alone, you have Mattie and me. Anyway, it’s too late,” I grin as the door opens and a small, dynamic human, propels himself into my arms.
“Uncle Harm,” the child squeals in delight, gracing me with a huge hug, giving my two ‘dates’ a suspicious look, pronouncing that auntie Mac is already there, and wiggling down to drag me inside.
I see her shrug in surrender, no retreat now. They give each other supporting looks and step through the door.
Bud is shaking my hand, and turns a huge smile on both of my ladies, but it’s Harriet, who breaks the ice.
After accepting a hug and kiss on the cheek, she turns. “Carolyn, I’m so glad you came,” she declares sincerely, “and you must be Mattie. Harm told me all about how you rescued him, but I need to hear your side,” she smiles at me conspiratorially, as she leads them off to insert them into her cozy social gathering. I’m amazed at how easily Harriet handles difficult social situations. She’s a true southern lady.
Twenty minutes later, I’m leaning against a wall next to Mattie. She’s perched on a barstool surveying the scene and munching on finger food. Carolyn has managed to blend into the crowd of former co-workers without much difficulty, after her initial reticence wore off. I spot Mac standing across the room, the crowd has thinned momentarily, and she is without companionship.
I lean down and whisper in Mattie’s ear. “Would you like to meet Mac? She’s not as fearsome as she looks.”
Mattie looks up at me a giggles. “You goof. She doesn’t look fearsome, she looks gorgeous, though, I guess that could make her fearsome. Tell me again, why you two aren’t together?” She teases in a sarcastic tone, that lets me know I’m crazy to even think of trying to speak to Mac.
“You know,” I shake my finger at her and threaten, “you know, you’re not too big to be spanked.”
She grabs my finger and challenges me with, “I’m big enough that it would no longer be called child abuse.”
I roll my eyes and respond with, “You are way too old for your years, young lady. Now do you want to meet Mac or not?”
“I don’t think so, not right now, she’s watching us you know.” Mattie confides conspiratorially.
“I know, that’s why I want you to meet her.” Mac will like Mattie, she’s so much like Chloe.
“Afraid of what she’s thinking?” This child has been alone among grownups, way too long.
“Mattie,” I exclaim in exasperation, “she knows about you, at least she should I haven’t made it a secret.”
“But you haven’t told her either,” this girl would make a good lawyer.
“No but,” I run my fingers through my hair, “you don’t keep secrets in that office.”
“Harm I’m not as old as you,” she explains patiently I give her a no shit look, “but the one thing I’ve learned, is that the only secret that ever gets kept, is the one you want everyone to know.”
I just look at her for a moment, with the dawning realization that she may have a very valid point. And it may apply to more than just this one situation.
“You had better go talk to her Harm. This is an interesting crowd; I want to watch people a little while longer.” She declares ponderously.
I shove off from the wall and head in Macs direction, just as she turns away to look out the window, I’m not sure if its for effect, fortification or outright defiance I grab a tumbler at the bar and pour a hefty shot of bourbon.
Strolling as casually as I can and still make my target before it’s intercepted, I head across the room.
End of part one
Part Two
“Evening Mac,” I walk up behind her. She tenses, then forces herself to relax, before turning to look up at me. It’s only a glance, but there is so much pain there. I mentally shrug; she must be having problems with Webb already.
“Evening Harm,” another time, another place, we could have used the old familiar ‘Hey’ but not anymore, we aren’t there now.
“You look nice this evening,” I fully expect some sarcastic rejoinder, but we are in polite company, and it was the polite thing to say.
“Thank you,” she answers, no comeback, no emotion at all, in fact. I could have said, ‘it’s raining’ and received more response.
“Where’s your pregnant girlfriend?” she continues, after a deep breath. The words bite deep, the tone is light but somehow sad, I knew it was coming. She means Catherine.
“She had other plans.” I shrug. She nods acceptance of my statement.
“I see. I never should have thought you would voluntarily abandon a lady in distress.” She replies in a small voice.
I just look at her for a minute. “Other way around, actually.” I admit.
“What do you mean?” She looks puzzled, and is that, perhaps, concern?
“Just what I said, I made a perfectly legitimate offer. She abandoned me.” I look at her hard, so she knows what I’m admitting to.
“It….It wasn’t your baby?!” It’s both a question and a statement.
“How would you know that?” I ask caustically. It’s something she should have known instinctively. I’m tired of this conversation already.
“Because you would have never let her go, if it was.” She answers assuredly.
“Some women don’t appreciate being rescued, Mac.” I reply in a soft voice, that belies the intended hurt. The point scored, rocks her for a minute.
“That apparently doesn’t include Carolyn.” She suggests, after she recovers from the verbal blow.
“She just needed a little encouragement to rejoin the group. She sort of felt like an outcast, being cut loose like that. I knew how she felt; I was nothing more than a shoulder to cry on for a few minutes,” I nod my head in Carolyn’s direction, “she’s fine now.” Noting a flash of pain cross Macs face again, I wish that I could convince myself it had anything to do with me. But I can’t, so I take a healthy pull on my glass.
I’m about to cut the conversation short, since it has no apparent purpose, when she nods her head towards Mattie.
“And the teenager? Since I never had you pegged for the midlife crisis type, there must be a story there.” She comments with a tentative smile.
That about tears it, I can almost believe from her tone, that this is the old Mac bantering and teasing for information, but we’ve gone too far for that, and I can’t accept those terms. The words that keep coming from her mouth don’t match her voice and face. I’m not doing this anymore.
“You know Mac, you’ve been using that word an awful lot lately, maybe you should pull back and think about what you’re saying, before you use it again.” With that, I drain my bourbon, and indicate the other door to the living room with my glass. “Someone appears to be looking for you,” I almost spit, indicating Webb, whose head is poking around the corner.
Spotting Sturgis and Bud in an awkward greeting, I stomp off in their direction, grabbing three beers from the ice bucket on the way. For some reason, I honestly believe I can help them mend their friendship.
20:45
Roberts holiday party
I don’t believe it. Again. It happened again. Am I going to be caught in this vicious cosmic loop forever? Cursed for eternity, to relive, over and over, these bizarre conversations, where we just don’t connect?
There have been others in the past, too many others. Some of the most notable being, when he left to fly, the ferry in Sydney, the admiral’s porch, on the Guadalcanal, and the worst, by far the worst in Paraguay. I made some judgment errors, and, as a result, he jumped to some dangerous conclusions.
We both had agendas that included the same things; we just never seemed to be reading the same line. He wanted to talk about us, and I wanted to talk about us, he wanted to fight terrorists, and I wanted to fight terrorists, he came to rescue me, and dear god, did I need rescuing.
He reacted badly to my relationship with Webb, without really finding out what it consisted of, and what my feelings were. I reacted badly to finding he had given up the Navy, believing it was something else I was going to have to show undying gratitude for. I never wanted my relationship with Harm, to be like the one I had with Mic. I guess all the fighting, to keep us even, was just for that reason.
“That went well, whose fault was it this time, yours or his?” A voice came from just behind me.
I expected it to be Webb, but it certainly wasn’t his voice, and when I turn, I spot him halfway across the room, with Catherine Gale on his arm. The voice belongs to the sweet-faced teenager, who was the catalyst for the latest Mackenzie/Rabb disaster, otherwise known as a conversation.
I just look at her for a long minute. “Mine, his, doesn’t matter I’ve lost count. I sometimes wish I could quit trying.” I heave a heavy breath, and glance wistfully towards the spot where he disappeared.
“Thought you already did.” She gives me a pointed look.
“No, not really, although it could have sounded that way at the time, if the person hearing it was in the proper frame of mind. Which,” I add, “he apparently was. You remind me of Chloe.” Just what Harm needs, his own personal Chloe. Or maybe he does.
“He said you’d say that,” she observes.
“I’d say what?”
“About Chloe,” she clarifies.
“He did?” I’m taken aback.
“Yep”
“Have you talked about me a lot?” I’m intrigued, but I try to contain the hope that creeps into my voice.
“Why. Do you care?” She’s beginning to sound like Harm.
“No I….” I try for casually unconcerned, but it doesn’t work, so I just nod silently. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but you’re apparently an important part of Harms recent life, and you seem to know a lot about me, about us. I’m kind of at a disadvantage here.” I admit. This is annoying, but something keeps me talking to her.
There is a flicker, just hint of compassion, starting to form in her eyes.
“You still love him don’t you?” She’s certainly blunt.
“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell him?” I bargain, not knowing what there is to gain by this conversation.
“Why?” She asks indifferently, she’s right though; it doesn’t matter very much.
“Because something like that should come directly from the person involved, not from a third party.” An assertion that sounds like I might ever tell him, when I know the last chance I ever had to tell him is long gone.
“Makes sense,” she agrees. However, I suspect she may be agreeing with the statement without agreeing not to tell. What does it matter? He wanted Catherine, even carrying someone else’s child.
“So, do you?” she repeats. I wonder if Harm has thought of directing her towards law school.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” I shrug, “can’t help it, he’s a hard habit to break.”
“But you’ve never been together,” she blurts the painfully obvious.
“Yes, we have, in so many ways, just not in one way.” I reply wistfully.
“And you want the rest of it?” Her voice is displaying less antagonism.
“You are a very inquisitive young lady.” I tell her sternly.
“Only way you find things out, is to ask,” she shrugs.
“Well uh…” I hesitate, realizing I’m spilling my guts, to a teenager whose name I don’t even know.
“Mattie,” she supplies.
“Mac,” I respond
“Well Mattie, I guess the very kindest thing you could say about us, is that we both wanted the same thing, but at different times, and never seemed to be able to line it all up.” This is as far as I can go.
“So, you’re not in love with that spook?” She asks thoughtfully.
“Nope, never was.” This I can say to anyone, who cares enough to ask.
“And he’s not with Catherine, never was,” she muses.
“He said he tried,” I offer.
“Yeah,” she shrugs dismissively, “but that’s one smart lady. She knew it wouldn’t work; she wasn’t having anything to do with it. The reasons were all wrong”
“Smart lady,” I agree, “funny how the ones that don’t really want him, always seem to get him.” I add longingly.
“Do you still want him?” she queries, in a forthright offensive action.
“I beg your pardon?” I’m amazed by her assertiveness.
“You heard me, if you could, do you still want him?” She repeats.
She’s nothing, if not persistent. “It doesn’t really matter he doesn’t want me.” I reply, not believing I’m on the defensive to a teenager.
“He told me you do that.” One corner of her mouth turns up in amusement. “
What?” I ask, giving her an example of my Marine glare.
“Give non-responsive answers, he called it. And the look, he told me about the look.” She is completely unfazed. “I could almost believe you don’t know the answer.”
“That’s it isn’t it?” she continues. “You haven’t allowed yourself to admit it, have you?”
“Does Harm find you this difficult?” I’m not sure I want to talk to her any more.
“Every bit, now answer the question Colonel, for yourself at least.” Amazing, she almost makes it sound like an order.
I stare off in the direction he disappeared. “For what its worth yes, I never stopped wanting him, I just stopped hoping I’d ever have him.”
“Wow, you are one hard nut to crack. I can see how you two have so much trouble. Your minds work almost identically, except on different wavelengths. If you ever get in synch I doubt the world will be ready for you.” She declares.
“How old did you say you were?” I’m intrigued by her insight.
“I never tell my age.” She sounds thirty-something. It’s almost comical.
“Close to fourteen, is my guess.”? I cast a practiced eye at her.
“You’re an expert on teenagers?” she challenges.
“Harm told you about Chloe, didn’t he?” I remind her.
“Some, not a lot.” She admits.
“You are peas in a pod. God help us if you ever meet.” The thought is chilling.
“Maybe you wouldn’t need gods help, if we do meet. But since she lives in Vermont, I may have to handle this on my own.” Her face is bland but the eyes sparkle.
“Mattie, you said you wouldn’t tell.” I remind her.
“No, I said I agreed with your reasons why I shouldn’t tell.” She clarifies.
“Mattie please. I have to work with him again. It will just make it more difficult.”
“Trust me Mac, I’m fourteen, not stupid.” She answers thoughtfully, then turns and walks towards the buffet.
End of part two
Part Three
Grace Flying Center
16:10November 23
It’s one of those perfect days for flying. The sky is blue and cloudless, hardly any wind, and it’s neither too cold nor too hot. I could stay in the air forever. Unfortunately, the fuel tanks are disagreeing with me, and it’s not my plane.
I’ve finished the last job of the day, the last job for this year. The season is over now until spring. I indulged myself a bit, while dusting the Garrison farm, playing in the sky with my new friend, like an errant child. Kissing the clouds, then plunging to earth, only to find a new way to soar skyward again. She isn’t the same as my ‘Sarah,’ not as complex, there isn’t the soul deep connection, but she handles nicely, and isn’t quite as temperamental. I fight my inclination to draw the obvious parallels with real life, as I bring her softly to ground, and taxi to the hangar.
I’m going to miss the weekend flying. Even though Mattie says she schedules lessons and pleasure flights, to keep the business alive during the winter, it’s not my idea of fun. Besides, she has two full time pilots to handle that stuff, and I have to get to work on my caseload, before the Admiral fires me again.
As I climb from the cockpit, a decidedly teenager-like voice assails me. “Way to go hotshot, that was some flying, at the Garrison’s. You were having too much fun, to be working,” she accuses lightly.
I turn and give her one of my cocky flyboy grins, “That’s what we say it’s all about, in the Navy, ‘too much fun to believe they actually pay us to do it’. Do you watch all your pilots, or do you just like to watch me fly, ‘cause I’m so good?” I taunt her.
“I was collecting your paycheck, if you must know.” She provides in a patient tone, then with more exasperation, adds, “Wow flyboy, you do have way too much ego,” before she turns quickly and walks off.
I can tell by the set of her shoulders, she realizes the error she just made, and she’s hoping desperately, I won’t notice. There is only one person, who ever called me that. Mac. And all of a sudden, things untangle and start lining up.
Every time I’ve spoken to Mattie, since the Roberts’ holiday party, she’s asked about Mac. How is she, if we have any cases together, or some other question about our past. This morning when I arrived, she pounced on me with a request to meet Chloe, citing the fact that, if she and Mac were so close, Chloe was sure to visit over Christmas.
And the red car, it was well hidden by the trees. I compliment myself on seeing it, but I’m a fighter pilot, born, bred, and trained. Someone else might not have even noticed, however something in the bottom of my soul, tells me it was Mac. She was watching me fly. This is crazy, but I wonder.
I finish servicing the plane and secure it, before I head to the office to collect my last paycheck. Mattie is busy directing one of the other pilots, in his job lineup for next week, so I take this opportunity to watch her. She acts so grown up, and it tears my heart that she has to be this way, she’s little more than a child.
Circumstances have forced her to abandon those last few years of mindless fun, and survive in the adult world. She’s done a remarkable job; nevertheless, it is sad. She reminds me so much of Chloe, and they both make me think of Mac. They all suffered the same fate, but Mac has already repaired a lot about Chloe’s life, and I hope to do the same for Mattie.
When she finishes with Joe, I step up to the counter. She silently hands me the check. I fold it and stuff it into my jeans. She’s still afraid I’ll say something about her slip of the tongue, but whatever it’s about, I’m not going there right now.
Carolyn told me Mattie and Mac talked at the party, and if she still talks to Mac, that can only be good thing. Mac is nothing, if not a positive influence.
“Mattie, why did you ask to meet Chloe?” I ask, surprising her.
“I…I guess I thought it would be fun.” She shouldn’t need an excuse to have fun.
“OK.” I agree, feeling a little foolish.
“You know, it’s Christmas, and girls like to shop. Maybe it would be fun for her too, I mean to go shopping with me, maybe see a movie, or a concert that adults wouldn’t enjoy.” She shrugs shyly. They are valid reasons, and I should have thought of every one. She deserves some fun, god knows.
“You’re right, absolutely, Mattie. No question it would be fun for you. First thing Monday, I’ll ask Mac if Chloe’s coming, and then we’ll arrange a day for you two to have some fun.” I was so tied up in the idea that Mattie might be up to some ulterior plan; I never stopped to think she’s just a teenager, who hasn’t really had the chance to act her age for a while. Jeez, Rabb, how self-centered can you get?
She smiles and nods at the prospect. “Maybe I could get her email address, and we could sort of start to get acquainted,” she suggests.
“Another good idea, I’ll work on it. But right now, I think we ought to work on some dinner, what do you say? We can celebrate my last paycheck. Maybe I can negotiate a part time job in the spring, if you don’t have too many hotshot pilots beating down your door by that time,” I tease her.
“Sounds like a plan Harm, buy me some ribs, and I’ll seriously consider you as a rehire.” She smiles, impishly.
I roll my eyes in mock horror, but it’s a well-used game between us now. The rib place has one of the best salad bars I’ve ever seen.
It may not be first thing on Monday, but I will talk to Mac. I have to figure out how to approach her with a personal subject. We haven’t really spoken on any level except professional since my return, and since the party, we’ve hardly spoken at all.
It’s my fault; I freely admit that, even to myself. I was an ass. And the reason is so deeply personal, that I can’t even conceive of an adequate apology. Not one that will make sense.
I mean, how can I go up to her and say ‘Gee Mac, I’m sorry I behaved like a bastard. But its because being around you, seeing you, and talking to you, watching you walk, and smile, and laugh, knowing you belong to someone else, makes me so crazy I can’t even stand to be polite to you’. Now really, even a ludicrously articulate lawyer such as myself, can’t find a way to present that case.
But somehow, I have to find a way. If I keep telling myself it’s for Mattie, I can make myself talk to her. And if I make myself talk to her, I’ll find a way to apologize. Somehow, I’ll work from there.
End of part three
Part Four
November 26, 2003
JAG HQ
At this point I don’t know whether I’m annoyed, frustrated, amused, or confused. Since Harm returned, he has barely spoken two words to me in the office, that were not strictly professional. The only words he has spoken outside the office, were at the Roberts’ holiday party, and rude is about the kindest description I can give that conversation. Even allowing him points for thinking we were no longer close enough, for the bantering lightness I attempted, I still think he overreacted.
If I didn’t know better, I’d believe I had a tracking device attached to me, because contrary to normal office flow, I have rarely laid eyes on Harm the entire time, since his return to JAG. He’s like a goddamned ghost.
I mean everyone runs into someone else at the copier, or in the coffee room, in the law library, or the elevator. At least we occasionally see each other talking to one of the staff, or heading to or from the Admirals office. Certainly, at some point you bump into one another in the hallway, or the lunchroom. However, not Harm.
It’s as though he always knows exactly where I am, and endeavors to be somewhere else. I’ve wondered how he managed his travels though the office, and his meetings with the Admiral, only during the times I’m in court or conference. For gods sake, has the man given up coffee completely? To say he’s been avoiding me would be a masterpiece of understatement.
Suddenly, on Monday, everything changed. I went to the copier, my head down as I studied a file. I don’t know if I sensed him, before I smelled his aftershave, or the other way around, but I glanced up just in time to be confronted by his large blue clad body. Instantly, I was swallowed by his grey-green eyes.
“Good morning.” He actually smiled at me. It was a weak smile, but a smile, nevertheless.
“Good morning,” I struggled past my vocal chords. Returning his smile, probably too brilliantly.
He continued to hold my eyes for several long minutes, before stepping aside and allowing me access to the machine.
Later that afternoon, he showed up in the coffee room so soon after me, that I thought he was going to run me down.
I tried a weak joke, “Don’t you think you should be using a tail hook on those landings, Commander?’
He countered with a raised eyebrow, “A tail hook requires an appropriate arresting cable, Colonel,” he answered before reaching past me for the coffee.
Lord, if I didn’t know better, I’d believe he was flirting with me. But, Nah, he couldn’t be. I mean, could he?
It would be a little nervy after his recent behavior, but not necessarily out of character. When Harm is uncertain of his footing, he frequently reverts to his well-practiced charm to gain the upper hand. But, why? What I didn’t finish off with my ill-conceived comments in Paraguay, he managed to finish at the party. Where do we have to go?
I admit, I’ve spoken to Mattie a few times, but she called me first, and I don’t know if she told Harm. She gave me a heads up about his final flight Sunday, and I snuck out there early to hide in the trees, although, he doesn’t know about that. His flying scares me, but it’s also a work of art, and so essentially Harm. I guess I almost thought of it as a final goodbye to our friendship. It won’t be his last flight ever, but still it was symbolic.
Now, this. This almost schoolboy behavior. Like I’m some kind of first crush. Yesterday, he actually ran into me in the hallway. I’m talking about actual physical contact, so hard that he had to put his arms around me, to keep me from falling. Then he mumbled what passed for a shy apology, and hurried off. God, if I didn’t know better…. Twice, in the afternoon, he waved as he passed my office. He even managed to get in the same elevator with me three times in two days, once it was so crowded I was backed right up against him.
This morning, first thing, he apparently waited for me by the coffee room. He was right on my heels at the coffee machine, making light conversation about the weather. Before 09:30, he was in my office, asking to borrow a volume of the UCMJ, which he could have sent one of the staff to fetch. He’s driving me nuts. Mostly, because I can’t figure out what he’s up to.
A knock on the doorframe interrupts my reverie, and I start suddenly, fearing the Admiral may have caught me daydreaming.
“Sorry Colonel did I disturb you?” he asks. His tone is contrite, but the look in his eyes makes me wonder if I was talking to myself aloud.
“No Commander,” I reply formally, “what can I do for you?” Hmm, perhaps not the best phrasing, given the look that leaps to blend with the active mischief in his eyes.
However, he clears his throat and looks a little more uncomfortable, as he struggles with his words.
“Well, actually, I… uh, have two things….that is, one is for me, I mean, if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, but the other is for a friend, and I think once you know why….”
“For gods sake, Harm, spit it out,” I blurt.
He looks shocked for a minute, but somehow judges that he still has me a little off balance.
“I’m not sure just where to start,” he explains, spreading his hands. Don’t get me started about his hands. “It’s sort of complicated.”
“How about, one thing at a time.” I suggest. “Start at the beginning, Harm.”
“I wish we could,” he half whispers, as he turns his head for a second, looking back over the bullpen.
“What?” I think I heard that.
“Nothing,” he smiles, giving me a half strength flyboy, without the cream, topped by a sprinkle of ruefulness.
“Harm,” my tone holds a slight warning note.
“Ok look, I need to borrow Chloe for a day, that is if she’s coming to visit for the holiday.” He explains with the clarity of mud.
“You want to borrow Chloe?” I echo, half amused, half dumbfounded.
“Just for a day,” he continues quickly, “not for me, for a friend of mine.”
“So, you want to borrow Chloe for a friend. Harm, what the devil are you talking about?” I think I know, but I’m not letting him off that easy.
“Well, it’s Mattie, she doesn’t have many friends, and well I thought… that is she asked… I mean, maybe Chloe would like to meet her, and the girls could go shopping, you know, do girl stuff.” He finally completes the thought.
I’m not sure exactly what is going on with Harm and Mattie, but what little I’ve gleaned, looks suspiciously like what happened with Chloe and me. Add in Harms obsessive nature, and I think I have a pretty full size picture forming.
“Well Harm, I think I could spare her for a day, but we would have to ask Chloe. Don’t you think?” I remind him of his manners.
He smiles sheepishly, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him at all. Assuming the girls would be best friends from first sight, I imagine.
“Would you email her and ask her? Maybe give her my email address, and this one,” he hands me a card from Grace Air Services. “See if she’s interested. That’s all I ask Mac,” he finishes almost pleadingly.
I just nod, watching him for a moment, in this new role as father figure.
He squirms uncomfortably under my scrutiny, and starts to rise.
“Was that all Harm?” I prod gently.
“Uh, yeah, I guess…well, I was wondering, no it’s Ok Mac, thanks for your help.” He starts to turn away, his look is somewhat resigned now, almost hopeless. I can’t let this moment pass.
“Harm? What is it?” I can afford to be kind. We can’t really hurt each other any more. I know he’s given up on me, and I am consciously working to cope with my shattered dreams of ‘us’, so maybe, just maybe, we can at least be comfortable friends. Perhaps not like before, but still friends.
“Well, there was another thing,” he begins hopefully, I nod encouragement. “Bud and Harriet want to take me to lunch, sort of a welcome back. They said I could bring someone along.”
I nod again, not quite believing where this may be going. “Would you come to lunch Mac. I’d really like it, if you would.” He rushes to finish, as though he doesn’t trust himself to complete the sentence.
I just stare at him for a very long moment, not believing what he just asked, and not certain how I feel about it.
“It’s Ok Mac, it was just a thought,” he turns to go, looking dejected.
“No Harm, I mean yes, I’d love to have lunch with you.” I can’t say it fast enough. “When?”
“Noon thirty,” he smiles a three quarter flyboy, light cream added.
A little sudden, but I’m free, and it’s just friends getting together. “Fine,” I agree.
“Great, I’ll be back to get you.” He waits for my nod of assurance, before walking away, his step slightly springier than I’ve noticed of late. Somehow I feel lighter myself.
12:45
Pinocchio’s
Two blocks from JAG HQ
I made a point of being two minutes early to pick her up. I caught a break with her this morning, and I want to keep the momentum going.
We’ve been seated, and given our orders, but Harriet can’t seem to contain herself any longer. “So where have you been keeping yourself, Commander?” she demands lightly. “I know you were busy when you worked for ‘them,’ but you’ve been back for weeks, and we haven’t seen you, except for the party. You need to come to visit.” She makes it almost sound like an order.
“Harriet, this is a social lunch, call me Harm.” I plead.
She nods, but isn’t deterred.
“I’ve been flying on the weekends. Crop dusting for Mattie, but this was my last weekend,” I explain, casting a glance in Mac’s direction. Her face is a mask, but the flicker in her eyes, confirms that it was her car, I saw on Sunday. Ok, new information.
“Crop dusting, whatever for?” Harriet squeals.
“Started out as the only job I could get, before the Admiral offered my job back, but Mattie needed help, so I helped. Besides, I haven’t behaved very well towards my old friends; I guess I wasn’t sure they wanted me around much.” That sounds pitiful even to me, but trust Harriet to take the right tone.
“Nonsense Harm, a lot has happened, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” she defends me. If I had a sister, I imagine she would be just like Harriet.
“That’s where you’re wrong Harriet, I appreciate the support, and your friendship, but I’ve been brutal to some of my friends, and it’s inexcusable,” I don’t dare look at Mac now. Somehow, Harriet has given me a way to apologize, obliquely, or at least start the process.
“Harm, the Admiral shouldn’t have let you go to begin with, and…” she would make a great defense attorney.
“Unfortunately, Harriet that’s not entirely true, people make decisions, and sometimes those decisions make other people unhappy. However, if those decisions are made with integrity, I have no right to behave badly, because I don’t like the outcome. I behaved shoddily, to… uh, several people, because I didn’t like the effect their decisions had on my life, but if it was the right decision for them, I had no right to complain. I need to find a way to apologize to those people, but I also need to find out, if they even want to listen. I can only work it out, one person at a time.
“So,” I smile, “do you think you and Bud can ever forgive me, for ignoring you the last six months, while I pouted like a scolded child?”
“Of course Comm… I mean Harm. I hope Bud and I didn’t do anything to make you upset with us.” She looks worried.
“No Harriet, you didn’t, but in all honesty,” she nods bravely, “I just couldn’t take your happiness, when I was so damn miserable. It was selfish and mean of me, and I’m ashamed, but there it is.” I admit
“Oh Harm,” she cries and covers my hand.
“Now I have to find a way to tell my other friends, how sorry I am for having treated them cruelly. After all, everyone is entitled to find their own happiness, and as a true friend, I should be happy for them.” Please god, let her understand what I’m trying to say. Please let her listen to me later, when I can explain better.
The words barely pass my lips, when Mac excuses herself, and rushes in the direction of the lady’s room. Harriet rises and rushes after her.
“I think she was crying Harm,” Bud remarks looking in the direction of the fleeing women. “Don’t worry, Harriet will bring her back.”
“I’m not sure she should, Bud. I never seem to be able to do anything but make her cry, except when I’m making her angry. I guess that’s why I finally decided I don’t deserve her. No one else makes her cry as much as I do, and she’s had enough crying, she deserves to be happy.” I feel completely defeated.
“Yes, she does deserve happiness,” he muses, “but the one thing I’ve figured out, is that women only cry about the things they care about the most.”
I just stare at him stunned, it couldn’t be. I turn to look in the direction where Mac and Harriet disappeared, then I look back at Bud. He just nods his head.
End of part four.
Part Five ‘A’
09:30 Sunday
November 30, 2003
Rabb farm, Belleville, PA
I love it here. I spent the last four days stocking and storing feed, cutting and stacking wood, then doing all the other little chores to make the place secure for the winter. There is no city I would rather live in than DC, but time spent here is always special. It not only lets me drift back to a simpler time, it’s also the place I’ve come to heal so often. Perhaps, this time is not much of an exception.
It’s my last morning for a while, and I find I can’t tear myself away from the fence surrounding the pasture. Standing here, with my second cup of coffee, watching the two old horses and half dozen cows graze on the stubble, it’s almost easy to find solutions to my convoluted existence. Almost.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asks, walking softly up behind me. She has her barn jacket draped over her shoulders, and holds her own mug of coffee.
“About what, Grams,” I ask. I know I can’t sandbag her, but I still have trouble facing it.
“You promised to bring her this year.” I know who she means, and I did promise. I thought I could keep the promise, last year it seemed so likely.
“I know,” I hang my head a little, unable to meet her eyes.
“Talk to me, Harm. For years you’ve come alone, but brought her with you somewhere inside. You tell me everything about your friend, good and bad. Now this time there’s nothing, you haven’t mentioned her once.” I feel like she’s hurting for me as much as I am.
“There’s nothing to tell Grams, I think it’s over.” I think, but I’m not 100% sure, that’s what’s making me crazy.
“What do you mean you think, Harm? She has always been so important to you. Even when she was engaged, you never quite gave up. Why now?” You can’t get much past Grams.
I shrug pathetically, “Her idea, not mine, but I made it worse, lots worse. I reacted… um unpleasantly.” How do you tell you grandmother you behaved like a complete bastard.
“Harm,” her tone is warning and impatient. Grams in this mood, is not to be toyed with. She reminds me so much of the other woman who owns my heart. The air stirs, and it has a chill, so I bargain with her. “Tell you what, we’ll go inside, sit in the window seat where it’s warm, and I’ll tell you all about it. Ok?” I guess its time to turn it lose.
She looks at me, to indicate I better not be trying to mess with her, but I know better, and nod my head that I will behave.
Once seated, I back up to last April and tell her the entire story, leaving nothing out. Grams listens, nodding or shaking her head as the story requires, but saying nothing. Finally, when I’m finished, she just sits and stares out the window for several long moments.
“So much pain and misunderstanding on both sides Harm, I’m not sure how to mend this. I wish I had some brilliant advice that would magically bring a solution, but I haven’t. That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard.” She lapses into silence again.
I’m about to give up and go find some other chores to do. I pat her hand reassuringly, starting to rise, when she catches and holds mine. “Harm, are you sure, really sure about this other man. I mean, if what you told me… the things she said…your lunch with friends… are you really sure?” I almost wonder if she heard something I didn’t tell her.
“I don’t know anymore, Grams.” I sigh, “I was when I made such a mess of it, but now I’m not, and there’s no one who can tell me.”
“There’s no mutual friend?” She inquires.
“We have lots of friends, Grams, but I’m afraid if I ask one of them, we will become the center of attention. If she’s with Webb, my every mood and action will be scrutinized, just like when she was with Brumby. If she’s not with him, they’ll watch to see what happens next. It’s too much of a mess to try to fix in a crowd, even a friendly crowd. If we still have anything, if we can find it again, we need to do it privately.
“And nobody knows the answer, who isn’t in your office?” She nods understanding, but she is still hoping.
“No Grams, I don’t know anyone who knows the answer. I guess I should ask Sarah, but I can’t, and no one else knows.” I hate myself the more, for having her see me give up.
“I know,” a voice comes from the doorway.
I spin in my seat, to find my teenage ward leaning somewhat uncertainly against the doorframe. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know,” I scold half-heartedly, both desperate and terrified to hear the answer.
“I know,” she says this with a different inflection, “but if I hadn’t been listening, I wouldn’t know you wanted the answer to that question.” This may be my first real encounter with teenage female logic.
I look at Grams, but she’s just smiling benignly.
“And just how would you have come by this valuable piece of information? More importantly, how can you be sure it’s accurate?” I ask skeptically.
“How I know is classified, Harm,” she begins, with that mischievous ‘I’ve got a secret’ smile I’ve seen color a woman’s features before. She holds up her hand, when I start to protest, “Believe me Harm, my source is good.”
“I see,” I fall into her game as a delay, for fear of hearing the answer, “And just what will it cost me, to get the answer from you?”
“A promise,” she bargains.
“What sort of promise?” I’m wary of promises, right now.
“A promise to get it right, this time.” She smiles slyly.
My heart stops beating, then begins to soar, but my mind is still holding me anchored. “What are you saying Mattie,” I whisper with the little air left in my lungs.
“She isn’t with him Harm,” she looks at me, deadly serious, “she never was.”
“But in Paraguay…” I start
“Never mind what you thought you saw, you are the stubbornest man I’ve ever met,” she says, as though her experience with the male population is vast. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grams nodding agreement.
“Look Harm, I heard your story, and a few other versions, it all comes down to one thing, some pretty bad stuff happened. None of us knows it all, we can’t, you said so, some of it is classified. But, it had to be terrible, sometimes good people do awful things, when the situation is bad enough. We can’t tell you how to fix it, me or Grams, no one can, but I happen to have a fact, and the fact is she’s alone. The rest is up to you.”
Grams looks at me, “This is a pretty wise young lady you’ve discovered Harm.” My eyes are tearing, and I can hardly see her.
“Oh Grams,” I just wrap my arms around her holding her tight. After a few seconds, I reach out for Mattie, and pull her into our joint embrace.
“God help me, if she’ll have me, I’ll fix it,” my voice chokes, as I cry unashamed, on the shoulder of my support team, for the first time expelling months of tension and grief.
End of part 5a
Part Five ‘B’
09:00
December 1, 2003
Lunch with Bud and Harriet, last Wednesday, was almost surreal. I listened as Harm apologized to Harriet, but it didn’t sound like he was talking to her at all. When I realized what I thought he was saying I couldn’t believe it. Harm believes I’ve chosen Webb, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Some of the things I did and said.
I barely made it to the ladies room, before it hit me full force. When Harriet and I returned to the table, we told Harm and Bud I had an eyelash in my eye. Any fool could see it would have to be both eyes, and a bushel of lashes, but they were perfect gentlemen, and accepted our explanation, with only the barest hint of a ‘significant look’ exchanged.
We kept the conversation light, as we ate, and we all felt a little more comfortable when we returned to work. Several times in the afternoon, I had the feeling Harm was trying to say something, but I think it was something he just couldn’t do in the office.
Everyone wished each other a happy holiday, when the Admiral secured the office at 15:30, and I didn’t see him again until early this morning. I assume he made his usual trip to Pennsylvania. Bud and Harriet invited me for dinner and we carefully avoided any discussion of Harm, except in the most general terms.
His head suddenly pops into my office, “Hey Mac, you free for lunch this week, anytime?” He grins uncertainly, when he notices he has startled me from another daydream.
I’m surprised and wary, but I agree, “Sure, I can do that.”
“Good, what day?”
“What day did you want to go?” I’m warming to the idea. “Today?” He smiles brightly, with a hint of uncertainty.
“Today is fine,” I accept, wondering if we are heading for another train wreck, but unable to stop myself.
“Good. Are you free tomorrow?”
I sigh a little, “Sure Harm, if tomorrow is better…”
“No, I mean tomorrow too.” He looks somewhat nervous.
“Tomorrow too?” I’m stunned, he nods. “Ok I can do that too.” I lean over and pencil him on the calendar.
“What about the rest of the week?” He asks, craning his neck to see my day planner.
“Harm, just what are you asking?” I try for a clarification in the gentlest tone I can find.
He captures my gaze, with those sea green eyes that go on forever. “Lunch any day we are free?” I can tell he’s barely breathing. He looks nervous, but oh so determined. This is a surprising side of Harm I’ve never seen.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” I agree breathlessly.
Then two hours later, he walks in looking dejected and very close to annoyed. “I can’t go to lunch, Mac,” he says without preamble.
“It’s alright Harm, maybe another time.” I try to sound brave. I had such a feeling we might…..well I’m not sure what, but it started to feel good.
“Its work, the Admiral is sending me on a case to Washington. I can’t even tell you about it; it’s classified.” His reaction is surprising, he’s usually up for a challenge.
“Is it dangerous?” Thin ice there, but I’m worried.
“No! No, not that kind of case, but it will take a while, maybe two weeks,” he looks almost heartbroken. “Mac about lunch….”
“It’s ok Harm, duty calls,” I try to make light, through the sudden disappointment I feel.
“Mac,” he starts, and I look up again at his tone. “Will you wait?” I barely hear this whispered request. It almost as if he hardly dares to ask.
My breath catches, and I hesitate, before I reply simply, “Yes.”
“Promise?”
“I promise Harm, I’ll wait.”
He lets out his breath with a sighed, “Thank you,” flashes me a flyboy grin and calls out “see ya soon,” before he rushes off to collect his things.
09:30
December 15
JAG HQ
“Hey,” he pokes his head around my doorframe, “I just finished debriefing my case with the Admiral.”
“How did it go?” I ask.
It took him nearly two weeks, on a cold, rainy base in the Pacific Northwest. The case must have been a bear. There was no scuttlebutt; it was so classified. I finally got a quick phone call on Friday. He told me the entire team had been secured, and restricted from outside contact during the investigation, and that he was visiting his Mom for a few days. Not much information, but the fact he called, told me more than I was willing to believe.
“It wasn’t easy, I wish you’d been there. I could have used your help.” He smiles shyly, a new expression for Harm.
“I’m sure you did a good job, Harm,” I demur, “the Admirals smiling, that’s a good sign. Did you have a nice visit?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “it was nice of the Admiral to let me route through San Diego, on my return, so I could stop for a few days. I finished Thursday night, so it gave me almost three days with Mom and Frank. We had a lot to catch up.” He is giving me the strangest look, it’s making little fingers walk up and down my spine.
“Good Harm, I’m glad. I think you needed some family time,” I agree. He doesn’t seem particularly anxious to leave my office.
“Are…Um… Are you still free for lunch?” He asks a little uncertainly.
“The one you asked me for two weeks ago?” I tease him, but with a smile.
“Yeah you…uh…you said you would wait.” He raises his eyes. “Did you?” For some reason this question and answer has meanings I’m not certain of right now. I’m only sure they’re important.
“Yes Harm,” I answer. “I promised I would wait, and I did.” I’m about to fall into his eyes.
“Great,” his face spreads into a double strength flyboy with heavy cream. “I’ll see you at noon.” The smile doesn’t waver, as he backs from my office, almost colliding with an ensign, and moves past my window still smiling at me.
I lower my head to resume my work, when his head pops back in the door. “Tomorrow too?” He asks
“Okaaay,” I agree, somewhat giddy at his actions.
“And the next day too?”
I lower my eyes for a moment, I really think I’m going to blush. “I’m free for lunch Harm.” I meet his eyes, remembering the conversation from two weeks ago.
“And dinner?” His smile is stronger, if that’s possible, as he pushes a little further.
“Harm I have files to work on, I’m taking off next week to spend with Chloe.”
“Good I’ll help you, see you at noon,” and with that he disappears just half a second before the Admiral appears at his office door. I look quickly back at my work and wonder at his timing.
I did promise, though the conversation confused me. And now he’s back, more determined than before to occupy all my spare time. I’m allowing myself to hope, this means he wants our friendship back as much as I do. Hard as I try, I can’t stop myself from hoping it means he wants more.
End of Part five ‘b’
Part Six
11:58 December 15
JAG HQ
“Hey Mac, you ready?” I startled her. I made her jump again; obviously her mind has been wandering. I’m curious if it’s about us.
“Yeah, sure Harm, hang on a second.” She shuffles some papers, into the piles she refers to, endearingly, as her filing system, before rising and grabbing her cover.
We walk down and out to the parking lot, with only the briefest of small talk to keep the tension down. This is very important, and we both know it. I firmly believe if I screw it up this time, she won’t give me another chance. If we screw it up together, one of us will have to transfer, there will be no way to work in the same office.
If I can’t have some part of her, even the friend part, I’d rather be halfway around the world. Somewhere the bugs are bigger than most people’s house pet, and there are snipers on the rooftops. I guess I tried to go there with the CIA, but contrary to previous belief, someone kept pulling my butt out of the fire. I think the military could find me a spot, suitable to my lack of interest in living, if she tells me to go away again.
However, she’s here with me now. She has indicated she’d like to continue having lunch with me. I’m going to think positive, until I have a good substantial reason for thinking otherwise. No more assuming. From now on, when the question comes up, I’m going to ask.
She hands me the keys to her ‘vette, and I fold myself into the drivers seat. Mine is still broken, there’s been no time to repair it, and she knows how much I love to drive it. It’s a sweet gesture, completely unexpected.
“Mac,” I’m uncertain how she will take this, “could we get take out, and go sit by the river.”
She looks puzzled, “Sure Harm, whatever you want.”
Boy there’s an offer I like to…whoa, down boy, you need a little more time to get to that point.
“It’s just…well I’d like to talk to you. But not in public. And right now I don’t think either of our apartments is appropriate.” I explain awkwardly.
Her eyes cloud slightly, but she nods her head.
“OK, lets go,” she says after a deep sigh.
I drive to her favorite hamburger place, and order a chicken sandwich for me, a burger with the works for her, before turning to the river overlook.
“You know Harm, we’re cutting the time kind of tight this way,” she worries
“Mac I…I hope you don’t mind. I asked the Admiral for some extra time.” I start
“You what!” she’s looking upset.
“Please Mac, listen. I told him I had a serious apology to make, and promised to make it good. I told him, if you accepted, it might make things more comfortable in the office.” I glance uncertainly at her.
“Did he buy that?” a smile tickles the corner of her mouth.
“Well, he didn’t ask what would happen, if you didn’t accept it,” I give her an uncertain look.
“Mac,” I start
“Harm,” she starts
“Me first,” I challenge, “I bought lunch.”
“Yeah, but it’s my car,” she returns.
“Yeah, but it was my idea.” I argue.
“Ok you first,” she surrenders. “This time,” she adds.
I reach for her hand. I have to touch her. I have to feel her response, as well as see her eyes, and hear her voice.
“I was a fool Mac, I’m so very sorry I acted the way I did. You had every right to be with whoever you chose. I had no right to behave like an ass about it. I came after you for my reasons, but you had no obligation to make them yours. Please forgive me?” Please god, help me here, I pray.
She just nods her head, and looks out the window for a long time, I’m losing heart, but she doesn’t pull her hand away, that’s a good sign.
“At first I was angry that you didn’t have more faith in me Harm, but then I realized, a little at a time, that no matter what we had done or been to each other, we had never really talked, never really said the words. Some of the things I did…well I guess they could easily be mistaken, especially given the circumstances, all the raw nerves, the stress and everything.” There are small tears forming in the corner of her eyes. I didn’t mean to make her cry again, dammit.
“You did kiss him,” I remind her gently, trying to leave out the jealousy. I really have to lose that. It’s an unattractive emotion.
“I know Harm, and I guess if we had…. well… had more between us, you would have understood, he was dying, and he’d done so much to protect me. I had no idea he would recover, but that’s not the issue. The fact that he wanted something, that he manipulated us when we were stressed, that didn’t mean it was what I wanted. I hoped you would see that. When you didn’t I was too angry to explain it. I’m sorry too, Harm.”
“You never cared for him that way,” it’s meant as a question, but actually comes out as a statement.
She shakes her head, “No I didn’t, I cared about him, about whether he would recover. But the more he recovered, the more I thought about it, and the more I realized just how he had played us. While you were with them, you heard I dated him?” It’s a statement that sounds like a question.
“Yes I did, I figured I blew it and lost you for good.” I admit. “It made me angrier; I behaved shamefully at the Robert’s party.”
“No Harm, it was just the opposite really,” she continues cryptically.
“What do you mean?” I’m confused.
“He used me, used us, actually. He couldn’t get backup, I think he took me along knowing you’d come, if you knew I was in danger. You were his planned backup. When I figured that out, I decided to use him.”
“That son of a bitch.” I swear I may just kill him, yet. “How did you use him, for what?” Now I’m really confused.
“I decided it was his fault you had to join the agency. I needed to know you were ok, so I questioned him mercilessly, every time he took me out. I made him promise repeatedly, he would make sure you had backup. He finally got tired of talking about you, and concluded I wasn’t interested in him, so he stopped calling. By that time, you’d been let go and were back in town.”
That revelation takes my breath. I’m not certain whether to laugh or cry, perhaps because I’m not certain what it means yet. However, I intend to find out.
“Thanks Mac,” I say simply. My eyes water under my smile.
“For what?” she asks, through her own unshed tears.
“For caring. May I ask you something?” I can’t say this with words, they fail me.
“Anything, Harm.” How do I deserve this trust I see in her eyes?
I reach up and slip my hand behind her head. Pulling her gently to me, I give her a light kiss. Nothing wild and romantic, this isn’t the time, just something to show her I care.
She pulls back slowly, and looks at me. “I think maybe you were right.”
“About what?” I ask
“About things being better around the office,” she smiles a saucy smile.
Yes!!! I can’t help but chuckle and agree. “I guess we better eat our lunch,” I offer. “I wouldn’t want to get between a Marine and her dead cow.”
She gives me her special Marine death stare, then softens it with a slight smile, before digging into her lunch bag.
End of part 6
Part Seven
13:05
December 23
Georgetown
I can’t believe the traffic. Harm was leaving JAG at noon to have lunch with us, and spend the afternoon, before Chloe has to leave. Now I’m running late due to traffic. As I struggle to collect all the bags, so I don’t have to make two trips, I reflect upon the past ten days.
Our lunch that first day was both a revelation and a deception. Harm apologized so earnestly, that I found I had more than my share of things to express contrition for, and explain, as well. I still feel bad that I didn’t tell the whole truth about Webb, but Harm would have gone off on another quest that could have gotten him killed.
I always believed there was more to Singer’s death than anyone knew. I believe Harm was deliberately set up, but I don’t believe it was entirely Lindsey’s doing. He’s not smart enough, he got off way too easy when he confessed, and somewhere out there, is a father for the baby.
Using Singers credit card receipts, I wanted to prowl around the restaurants she and her lover had frequented, but I needed a cover. That’s where Webb came in. Fortunately, he figured out what I was doing, and scared some sense into me. He hinted that the real culprit is known to a select few, but for now, he will go unpunished and protected.
Opening that particular can of worms would probably insure that I, and Harm, would meet with and untimely end. Much as it galls me, I can bide my time, and hope for justice in the future. Harm would make it an obsession. I can’t afford that. I pray daily he doesn’t ever figure it out.
I acted on information available to me, that Harm will never see; he won’t have a reason to think of it. I made sure my evidence was securely sealed, and well hidden until it’s needed. Whatever our relationship turned out to be, I had to protect him.
Since that first lunch, we have made slow, but steady, progress in our friendship. We are very comfortable now, working, laughing, teasing, each other. Amazingly, it all returned so fast, as we spent most of our free time together, and though we have a moment now and then, we seem to solve them better than ever before.
The elevator takes forever. As I literally stagger under my burdens, fumbling for my keys, my door opens, and Harm grabs at the bags, threatening to slip from my fingers. “Have you been here long?” I smile at him, “I got tied up, you wouldn’t believe how busy it is everywhere.”
He smiles, the special smile that has developed between us, this past week, “Not long,” he answers, heading to the kitchen with me on his heels.
“Girls why don’t you set the table,” I call over my shoulder.
There isn’t much room in my tiny kitchen for both of us, but somehow it doesn’t seem awkward, it feels good. We move around each other, reaching for serving dishes, and unpacking the bags, when I hear, “It’s perfect,” and a dual giggle from the doorway.
I turn my head, to see the girls looking our way, “I thought I asked….” I begin, but get no further, as both of them are pointing to the ceiling over my head.
We look up as one, and I’m dismayed to find a huge bouquet of mistletoe tied to the light fixture, dangling just inches above our heads. A streak of fear passes through me, fear he will feel pressured and move away, closing himself off as he has in the past.
“Look girls, I know what you want but…,” I start, turning fully to face them.
“What do you want, Mac?” He interrupts softly. How did he get so close behind me? I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, his body heat through my clothes.
“Harm?” Is all my voice will allow.
His hands come to rest lightly on my shoulders, and he leans in, whispering again in my ear, “What do you want?”
I swallow the dry lump in my throat, there’s no way to get words past it. But what words can I use, how can I tell him what I want?
Slowly I feel myself turning in his arms, partly it’s me, partly it’s his hands that effect the movement. It doesn’t matter, because the minute our eyes lock the world falls away.
“You,” is all I can think to say.
It’s all I can manage to say, all there is time to say, before my lips are engaged in the softest sweetest kiss, as his mouth brushes mine, caressing, tempting, asking. Rapidly, we close on something potentially unsuitable for teenage girls to witness, as his lips part slightly, the tip of his tongue traces my mouth, needing this immediate intimacy. His hands are drawing patterns up and down my sides, trembling with the effort to contain this contact to appropriate levels, an effort doomed to failure if we continue much longer.
Somewhere, my consciousness registers satisfied laughter, and the sound of a door closing, as they retreat from the room. Fortunately, this reminder of their proximity brings us to our senses, and we stand there for a very long moment, breathing heavily, caught inescapably in each other’s eyes.
Once more, he ducks his head, to capture me with lips that offer promise and desire, his passion obviously present, held in check, while mine begins to spin out of control. As his hands fall to my hips, pulling me in tight, I feel my body respond to him so naturally, but my mind screams to pull away, we can’t do this here.
Slowly, my good sense takes over, or his does, I’m not sure, but we are once again wrapped in each other, lost in an embrace that promises all our dreams. Harm is leaning against the sink, and I am stretched against the length of him. Nothing in life has ever felt so perfect.
I have no idea of the time; my internal clock has stopped, arrested by the power surge of our mutual surrender. A tiny, practical voice in my head tells me we can’t remain here, caught in each other forever, but the winning majority of my gray cells are stubbornly refusing to move. I suspect Harm is losing the same battle.
It takes our helpers to untangle the spell, and reach a level of good sense that accepts a plan. I hear the door open softly behind me, but neither of us possesses the strength to turn from the other.
Our ears are quickly engaged, when Chloe says with practicality, “I think we still have time to eat dinner, before we have to go to the airport.’
“Good lord,” I exclaim, knowing she has to be at the airport by 16:30, and a few minutes ago it was only 13:10, how long have we been here. Resetting my mental clock, I discover Harm and I were lost for approximately seventeen and a half minutes. I turn smiling, and try very hard, not to be embarrassed in front of our young friends.
“You still have plenty of time, Chloe,” I smile. It’s a silly smile, a satisfied smile, a smile that indicates I’ve been given the most important thing I ever wanted.
They look at each other and giggle again, as only teenage girls can. “Yes, but if you two don’t pull it together, we won’t have time to go to Harm’s, so Mattie can pack.” She explains patiently.
“Pack?” he asks. “Where are you going?
“I’m going with Chloe; her grandmother invited me for Christmas.” Mattie admits, not sure how this revelation will be received.
“Oh really, and when did this happen?” I question
“Um…” Chloe falters, and admits in a small voice, “just after we found her an airline ticket online.”
I don’t know whether to be furious at their behavior, or charmed by their resourcefulness.
“So when did you buy the airline ticket?” Harm asks suspiciously.
They look at each other and sigh heavily before Mattie admits, “Right after we had the florist deliver the mistletoe.”
They look more like a pair of puppies caught tearing up the newspaper, than two very clever girls, who have helped two very stubborn people, over their last hurdle into eternal happiness.
Harm and I look at each other for a minute, before we burst out laughing at their ingenuity. It takes only the briefest second before they join in. With effort and a silent promise, we bank the now sizzling fire that has flashed between us.
Everyone helps in preparing our celebration feast, planned for Chloe’s last day here, and now dedicated to both of them. It wasn’t working out quite as intended, but it was working out nicely nonetheless. We spend the next hour eating our dinner, and discussing every aspect of their intrigues. I finally come to realize, that Harm and I have actually taken most of the steps ourselves, but with several helpers, who were well placed to give us a push at just the right time.
I wonder what the next step will be, with the girls getting on a plane in a few hours. I know what my heart hopes for, but the anticipation renders me breathless.
Midnight
Christmas Eve morning
We climb the stairs quietly, matching the hush that blankets the snow covered countryside. Pushing the door open, we are greeted by the most immense black lab I’ve ever seen. A deep, booming, single ‘Woof!’ welcomes us.
“Quiet, Jasper,” Harm admonishes. Knowing already, our stealthy entrance is ruined.
“Harm, is that you?” a sleepy voice comes from the staircase. A warm smile and joy-filled eyes appear on the landing, worn by the charming face of a woman, wrapped in a long white cotton gown.
“Hi Grams, sorry to wake you.” He turns to me, “Grams, this is my Sarah.”
End