Who_2



	Chapter 1-7 Chapter 8-14 Chapter 15-21 Chapter 22-28 Chapter 29-35 Chapter 36-41 Title: Who Am I Chapter 8 Bethesda Hospital Later that morning 2010 Mac had been talking to Harm nearly nonstop since she’d arrived at the hospital this morning. She was recounting Tommy’s first birthday in England when the doctor came by to check on him. “He had a quiet night,” the doctor smiled at Mac. “Is that a surprise?” Mac had been trying to read the doctor’s expression. He would have made a good Marine. She had no idea what he might be thinking. “Honestly? Yes, a little.” He gave Mac a reassuring smile before continuing with his examination. “I’ve noticed there’s some blood in his urine bag. Is that anything serious?” Mac watched the doctor as he checked Harm’s pupils. “His kidneys were badly bruised. A little bleeding is expected. It’s nothing to worry about.” The doctor put his pen light back in his pocket and walked around to the foot of the bed. “How long will he have to be on the respirator?” “He’s already showing improved oxygen levels, but there’s no way of telling how long he’ll need to stay on it.” The doctor wasn’t going to add ‘or if he’ll always need it.’ “What about waking up? Is the swelling going down? Is there any indication of when he might wake up?” Mac made a valiant effort to control her emotions. “These lines on his head are monitoring the pressure. I can tell you if the pressure begins to decrease, but there’s no way to predict when,” this time the doctor had to say it, “or IF he’ll wake up.” Tightening her grip on Harm’s hand, Mac glared long and hard at the doctor. “He will wake up.” Turning back to look at Harm, she repeated softly. “He will.” “I wouldn’t argue with her if I were you, doctor. My daughter-in-law has a nasty right cross. Besides, she’s never wrong.” Trish Burnett held her chin up high as she walked up next to Mac. “Hi, Mom.” Mac stood up clumsily. The two women hugged tightly, completely ignoring the doctor’s presence, each drawing much-needed strength from the other. “So what good news do you have for me?” Trish looked the doctor in the eye. “He’s still alive, ma’am.” “Don’t sell my son short. He’s come through worse. He can do it again.” Trish seriously considered making the doctor wash his mouth out with soap. “I won’t, ma’am. I promise. If either of you two ladies have any more questions, just ask the nurses and someone will have me paged.” “A man of few words, isn’t he?” Trish commented sardonically after the door had closed, dropping her purse in an empty chair and walking to the other side of the bed. “Here, Mom, you take my seat.” “No, thanks. I’ve been on a plane for five hours straight. I’m ready to stretch my legs.” Brushing her hand softly across his brow, she bent over her sleeping son. “I guess this is one of those times I can’t kiss the boo boo and make it better.” “You’ve had a long flight. Would you like me to get you something to eat or drink?” Mac offered, fighting the tears that were once again threatening to overflow. “No, Sue insisted we get some breakfast on the way. I finally agreed to orange juice and an egg McMuffin.” Trish laughed to herself, “Think if we tell Harm I drove through Macdonald’s it might wake him up?” “It’s worth a try,” Mac chuckled, the first real chuckle she’d had in almost twenty hours. “Did Sue go home?” “Yes, Jennifer called when we were on the road. She’s coming by this morning.” Trish leaned her hip, almost sitting on the side of the bed. “You know, on the plane ride over I started remembering what it felt like after his ramp strike, the fear and pain. Not knowing if he’d be alive or dead when I saw him next. And then, just like that I remembered the day he finally fessed up you two were getting married.” Trish slid off the side of the bed and pulled the other chair up close. “Did I ever tell you that only a year before, this man stood on my back deck and swore you and he were just friends? Wouldn’t even let me approach the subject of you and he as an item.” Trish shook her head slowly. “I believe you said something or other about that once or twice, yes,” Mac smiled. Burnett residence San Diego California May 1999 Trish could hear the phone ringing from the deck where she and Frank had been enjoying a late lunch. “Senora Burnett, the telephone is for you. Your son.” “Harm? I wonder what it could be?” Trish commented to her husband, accepting the cordless phone from her housekeeper. “Hello, Harm?” “Hi, Mom.” Harm pulled Mac off the side of the chair and into his lap. He’d been avoiding making the phone call all morning. He hadn’t figured out a way to explain to his mother that he was about to marry a woman he had never admitted to dating. Well, in actuality, he had never dated her at all, but that wasn’t going to be any easier to explain to his mother. “You sound too good for something to be wrong.” Trish could hear the laughter in her son’s voice. “Why should anything be wrong?” Harm nibbled quietly at Mac’s neck, forcing her to let out a squelched giggle. “What was that? Is someone with you?” Trish hesitated, straining to make out the muffled sounds on the other end of the phone. “Stop that,” Mac whispered. “She’s going to hear. Just tell her and get it over with.” “Harmon Rabb, what is going on?” Trish stood up and turned to face the shore. “I thought you wanted to be a grandmother?” Harm tugged at Mac, trying to pull her close enough to kiss again. “What?” Trish dropped back in her seat. “I’m trying my best, but Mac won’t cooperate.” Mac’s jaw dropped to the floor as her eyes sprang open wider than a silver dollar. “Harmon Rabb!” Trish was completely confused, “Are you trying to tell me you’re calling me to tell me you’re fooling around with Mac?” This time Frank’s jaw dropped slightly as he leaned in to hear the conversation. “That wasn’t exactly why I called, but it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, does it?” Stupefied, Trish looked up at her husband. Her son had finally lost his mind. He was making no sense. “Ow!” Harm exclaimed, soothingly rubbing the now sore arm where Mac had just slugged him for teasing his mom, not to mention embarrassing the dickens out of her in front of her future mother-in-law. “Okay, okay,” Harm defended to both his mom and Mac. “Mac and I are getting married.” “Married?” Trish sprang up again. “To Mac?” “Yes, Mom. Mac’s agreed to marry me.” “You’re sure?” Trish looked over at her husband’s questioning glare and mouthed, ‘He’s marrying Mac.’ “Of course I’m sure.” Turning to Mac, “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Deciding all’s fair in love and war, Mac leaned in and began licking and nibbling at Harm’s collarbone. Her fingers undid his top button and swirled playfully with the hair on his chest. “I’m sure.” Harm swallowed hard, his eyes almost rolling back in his head at the fire Mac was starting. “Let me to talk to her.” “She wants... to talk ... to you.” Harm gulped, handing Mac the handset as her fingers trailed a path down his front. “Hello, Mrs. Burnett,” Mac cooed into the phone, grinning impishly at Harm. “Has my son finally smartened up? Did he really ask you to marry him?” “Yes, ma’am, he did.” Trish fell back in the seat almost dropping the phone. “He’s finally getting married,” she said aloud. Noticing the odd look on his wife’s face, Frank retrieved the phone from her weakening grip. “Have you set a date yet?” “Yes, sir, October 9th. It’s the first Saturday available at Annapolis.” Chapter 9 Virginia 2010 Sunday evening Day 3 One by one, each of Harm and Mac’s friends had taken on the responsibility of seeing that Trish and Mac took time to eat and rest. Occasionally, over the last two days, Sturgis or AJ had to almost forcibly remove one of the stubborn women from their chairs, but it had to be done. Exhausted, but unwilling to admit it, Mac had come home to sleep in her own bed for the first time since the accident. Tommy was watching a Scooby Doo movie and Trisha was expected home any minute. Grandma Trish had insisted on staying at the hospital. She had discovered the family room had a decent sofa and would periodically go lie down whenever her back started rejecting the uncomfortable chair at Harm’s bedside. Barring any new complications, in another twenty-four hours Harm could be moved to a new floor. He’d gone almost 48 hours without any abnormalities. His temperature and heart rate had remained normal. There had been some concern with an initial redness around his incision, but that seemed to have been nothing important as the redness disappeared and it was now beginning to heal nicely. Even his urine output had started improving. Mac had originally been worried when the doctor had told her Harm’s kidney had been bruised, but she knew things would get better when they could move Harm into a regular room and his children could visit. There was no better medicine for Harm than his kids. Rabb Flat London England 2007 “I’m afraid he won’t be in today either, Jen. He was up vomiting most of the night. I still can’t get him to hold down any food at all. I tried giving him some dry toast and it just came back up.” “It seems to be going around, ma’am. Most of the people it’s stricken have been down for at least four or five days.” “I just hope the kids don’t get it. Trisha has the next two days off for parent teacher conferences.” “I’ll keep my fingers crossed, ma’am.” “Thanks, Jen.” Mac could hear Harm moaning from all the way down the hall. “Maaaac.” He sounded like he was on his deathbed. “Coming.” If he kept that up he was going to wake the entire neighborhood. “What’s the matter, big boy?” Mac tried to sound as sympathetic as possible, rounding the corner and walking up to the bed. “My head feels like it’s going to split in two. Could you please bring me a couple of Tylenol?” “Be right back.” Mac quickly brought back a couple of pills and a small glass of ginger ale without ice. “Thanks,” Harm croaked. “Don’t tell me your throat is hurting you too?” “No, just dry.” Harm swallowed the two pills and snuggled back under the covers. “Aren’t you going to tuck me in?” His voice sounded so small and helpless, Mac couldn’t resist chuckling softly. “Yes, dear.” She pulled the covers high around his neck and gently kissed his forehead. His fever was pretty high. She wished he could keep liquids down. With any luck, the ginger ale would help settle his stomach. Within the hour Trisha and Tommy had both joined Mac in the kitchen for breakfast and then continued on to their favorite spot in front of the telly while Mac cleaned up and started a load of laundry. “Trisha, make sure you guys keep it quiet. Remember Dad is sleeping. He’s not feeling well.” Mac had no idea what mothers who didn’t believe in TV did, but she was very thankful for Veggie Tales and Barney. Though, her personal favorite was Wishbone. She couldn’t help thinking it was a shame more episodes hadn’t been made. The lead dog made it entertaining enough for three year old Tommy, yet crisp enough for six-year old Trisha. Mac was thrilled with how quiet the kids had been. Normally there would be at least one or two small outbreaks over a misplaced toy, or which tape to watch. Mac had actually managed to clean the kitchen, including mopping the floor, and fold a load of wash before starting another. Carrying the clean clothes to the bedrooms, Mac was a little startled not to see the kids in front of the TV. When she made it to Trisha’s empty room and then Tommy’s, she knew exactly where she’d find them. What she hadn’t expected was the scene before her. Tommy was sprawled across Harm’s chest fast asleep and Trisha was reading her third Clifford book to her father. Harm was quietly resting, his hand drawing slow lazy circles across his son’s back, his eyes lovingly focused on his young daughter. Before Mac could say a word about disturbing Harm, he’d raised one finger to his lips indicating for Mac to stay quiet. Over the course of the day, Trisha went through every story she had, and when she ran out of books she could read, she started making up stories. Harm had managed to eat a little chicken soup for lunch and showed remarkable improvement by dinnertime. There was no medicine like being surrounded by his children. Rabb home Virginia 2010 “Mom,” Trisha repeated. “Oh, baby. I didn’t hear you come in.” “How’s Dad?” Trisha took a seat close to her mom. “He’s still sleeping. If he’s doing well tomorrow they’re going to move him to a room where you and Tommy can visit. “When is he going to wake up?” “We don’t know. He bumped his brain. When the bruising goes away, then he’ll wake up.” “Is he going to die?” “Oh, no, ba...” Mac stopped herself short, wrapping her little girl in her arms. “Daddy’s strong. He just needs some time. Remember, like when you were little and we lived in England? Daddy got the flu and had to stay home from work. You read to him every day until he went back to work.” “Do you think it would help if I read to him again?” Trisha knew it wasn’t the same thing. She wasn’t six years old anymore, but she so wanted to believe her dad would get better. “They keep telling me he can hear us even though he’s sleeping. I know it would make him very happy to hear you read to him again.” Not sure she could talk about this any longer, Mac adeptly changed the subject, “So, tell me, how did the campout go?” “It wasn’t too bad. Uncle Bud is pretty funny. We got to ride the skidoos on the lake. Mr. Johnson told stories by the fireplace. The rooms were pretty cool. I shared a room with Sarah, Emily, and Victoria.” “No dads?” Mac was willing to bet the dads were off playing poker in another room. “We all hung out together in the lodge game room ‘til bedtime. Then the dads said if we promised not to stay up late, the girls could have their own rooms. It was like a slumber party.” “Was the place as nice as the last one?” “Oh, yeah. They get better and better. I’m so glad we don’t do those outdoor campouts with the Y anymore. This place was really nice. The bathrooms were HUGE. They had these big tubs, I think even Dad could have fit in there.” Mac giggled softly. Harm never wanted to take baths because he said he felt like a size eight foot slipping into a size six shoe. The first thing he’d done with every house or apartment they’d ever lived in was to raise the shower nozzles. “Do you think maybe the four of us could go next summer? I mean, Dad would REALLY love the bathrooms.” “Well, if you’re REALLY sure. We can probably discuss it. After all, we wouldn’t want Dad to miss out on the chance of a lifetime.” Chapter Ten Tuesday morning had started out to be a great day. Not only had they moved Harm out of intensive care and down to the Critical Care Unit, but the doctor had agreed with the respiratory therapist that Harm’s SATs were high enough that he could be put on nasal oxygen instead of a full blown respirator. Over the next few days, Harm’s condition remained stable. The pressure from his closed head injury seemed to be dissipating. By the end of the week, his neurologist had signed Harm off to move to a regular floor. Once he was out of CCU, Trisha was allowed to come and read to Harm every day after school. Tommy came the first day, but didn’t want to go back until Daddy was awake. Mac had been concerned when she took Tommy to visit with Harm that his not responding might have some adverse affect on Tommy, but she had promised him. At the time she made the promise, she hadn’t honestly believed Harm would still be in a coma when they moved him to a regular room. She had tried her best to prepare Tommy, and hoped she wouldn’t live to regret her decision. The days were passing faster than she’d expected. Soon, the orthopedic surgeon and Harm’s physician of record agreed this would be a good time to go in and repair the shoulder. Mac paced anxiously in the waiting room. She hated the horrible feeling of helplessness that came with being at the mercy of a surgeon’s timetable. Then, to add to her concerns, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right choice, allowing Harm to go under anesthesia again so soon after a brain trauma. The doctors assured her it was perfectly safe, but if anything happened to him she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. Trish walked over and put her arm around her daughter in law. “He’s going to be fine. You’ll see.” When she finally spotted the doctor coming down the hall, there was such a difference in his walk. None of the apprehension that the emergency physician had carried was visible. “With a little bit of hard work and physical therapy, that shoulder should be as good as new.” The doctor smiled in Mac’s direction. “Thank you, doctor.” Mac extended her hand to the lanky physician. “Thank you very much.” “He’ll be moved from recovery back to his room shortly. You know how to reach me if you have any questions.” Mac immediately spun around and fell into Trish’s embrace. “What do you say we all grab a quick bite to eat before they bring Harm to his room?” Harriet and Varese had been keeping Mac and Trish company during the surgery, but it was Harriet who made sure to keep everyone fed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Mac agreed. She didn’t know how she would have survived these last few weeks without the support of her friends. She never had to worry about carpool or cooking. She and Trish were taking turns at home to keep the kids from feeling neglected, but it was mostly Harriet and Sue that made sure the kids got to and from where they needed to be and that a hot meal was always ready for dinner. Bethesda Hospital Two days after shoulder surgery Trish had already gone home to meet the kids after school when Harm’s doctor arrived for his afternoon rounds. “Our hospital social worker will be coming by to see you sometime today,” Dr. Pena explained to Mac. “We’ve done all we can for him here. It’s time to consider more permanent arrangements.” “I understand,” Mac nodded. She agreed, but she didn’t agree. She didn’t want to make more permanent arrangements. She wanted to take her husband home, awake and well. She needed him, and Lord, how she missed him. “Did you hear that, Harm?” Mac sat down in her usual spot. Holding Harm’s hand in hers as she’d done every day since she’d gotten the dreaded phone call, Mac began talking to her husband. “I don’t want to make permanent arrangements. I want to bring you home.” Looking around the empty room a minute, Mac looked down and kissed Harm’s knuckles. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you? I need you so much, for so many things. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since you’ve been gone. I’d forgotten what it was like to have a hard time sleeping.” Mac glanced at Harm’s silent form. It was so easy to believe he was just taking a little nap. “I even let Lady sleep on the bed the other night. Anything not to roll over and feel the cold side of the bed. Oh, please Harm, I can’t keep doing this alone anymore. I need you. We all need you.” Mac dropped her forehead crying into Harm’s arm. “You just have to wake up, you just have to.” Her head still resting where it had been on Harm’s arm, she had fallen asleep, dreaming about the NATO ball the first year she and Harm had worked together. Instead of being concerned with protecting the princess, Harm had only had eyes for her. “I don’t think of you as a sister,” he cooed. What a lovely dream, dancing in Harm’s arms. It was an odd tickling sensation that finally pulled her away from her dreams. Dragging herself back to consciousness, she thought she felt something move under her cheek. Slowly lifting her head up, she stared intently at the lifeless arm beneath her. Nothing. It was always nothing. Straightening up, she stretched her now stiff neck. When she brought her head forward and looked in Harm’s direction, she froze. His eyes were open and he was watching her with the curiosity of a small child. “Oh, Harm!” Mac practically leapt from the chair. “Oh, my God. You’re awake. Oh, Harm!” Stretching her arm out to caress his face, she was startled when she felt his hand snap up grabbing firm hold of her arm. Frowning down at his hand tightly clenching her arm, her voice turned from elation to confusion. “Harm?” “You keep saying that,” he said softly. Taking his eyes off of her for the first time, Harm glanced slowly around the room, his eyes settling a little longer on the pressure monitoring equipment to his left before he looked across at Mac’s arm again. A horrible feeling was quickly spreading through her. “Do you know where you are?” “I’d say a hospital?” “That’s right,” Mac smiled just a little. “You were in a car accident.” “You don’t look like a nurse.” Harm carefully let go of Mac’s arm, as though trying to ensure she wouldn’t try to touch him again. Mac batted her eyes quickly. This wasn’t any time to lose control. This was probably normal. He’d been in a coma. Surely he wouldn’t be the first person to wake up confused. “Let me go get a doctor. I’ll be right back.” Backing out of the room, Mac spun around and pressed her back snugly against the wall for support. Dear God, give me strength. She had thought over and over about what she would do if he didn’t wake up, but she never even considered what would happen if he woke up not knowing her. “Are you okay?” Nurse Kathy asked. She was one of the few civilian nurses on the floor. “He’s awake. I need to see the doctor. I... I don’t think he...remembers me.” Mac let out a small whimper. “It’s okay. I’ll page Dr. Pena. Just don’t say anything that will frighten him, I’ll be there in just a minute to check on him.” Kathy patted Mac briefly on the shoulder before rushing back to the nurses’ station. Gathering all her courage, Mac pushed open the heavy door and put on the biggest smile she could fake. “Nurse Kathy says she’ll be right in, as soon as she pages your doctor.” Harm stared blankly at Mac. They waited in total silence for the nurse’s arrival. Mac started wishing he’d say anything at all, even if it proved he had no idea who she was. Anything was better than the pounding silence. “Welcome to the world of the living, Captain,” Kathy greeted cheerily. When she reached forward to check Harm’s IVs, he pulled away as he’d done with Mac. “It’s okay. I’m just doing my job. I have a few things to check out.” “You’re the nurse?” “That’s right,” Kathy smiled again. “Then why is she here?” Harm pointed at Mac with his free hand. “That’s Mrs. Rabb.” This was the beginning of the slippery slope. How much information was too much information? Did he even know he was Mr. Rabb? “And I know you?” Harm looked at Mac. The fear she’d seen a few moments ago was replaced by utter and total confusion. “How do I know you?” Mac looked up at Kathy who simply nodded yes. “I’m your wife.” Chapter 11 – Harm’s eyes opened wider than Mac had ever seen. They’d scanned over her from head to toe before turning to Kathy and silently begging for confirmation. “That’s right,” Kathy nodded. Harm didn’t understand. Pulling his arm away from the nurse, he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. This wasn’t right. He wouldn’t forget his wife. Why were these people lying to him? Where was he? What was going on? Taking a deep breath, his hands dropped to cover his mouth before sliding the rest of the distance away from his face. Harm stared intently at the wall in front of him. The nurse called him ‘Captain’. Captain? Captain what? Captain who? Dear God, he didn’t know his own name. Could it be they were right? Were they telling him the truth? Was this woman his wife? Harm watched the nurse push some buttons on the machinery at his bedside and tinker with his IV before stepping away from the bed. No! The nurse was leaving, leaving him alone with... Snapping his head over to his ‘wife’, Harm looked more closely at the woman who sat silently watching his every move. He felt like he was in a fish bowl. What did she expect from him? Letting himself look her in the eye, he felt his heart sink to his stomach. She looked so sad. Was that pain he saw in her eyes? If it was, how did he know? Could it be true? Had he really cared for this stranger? Darting his eyes back to the nurse, Harm took another deep breath. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t look that woman in the face. Mac felt the vice tightening around her heart. She wasn’t sure what was worse, not knowing if he’d ever wake up, or having him wake up and to still have lost him. She was afraid to move, afraid to speak. What was she supposed to say? How could you forget me? Us? The children! Oh God, what would it do to Tommy? His father finally wakes up and doesn't remember him. Lord help her, what a mess. She wanted so badly to reach out, to touch him, to soothe away his doubts. When she first reached for him, he had looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. No, maybe that wasn’t it. He was terrified. A deer was merely frozen. Harm looked horrified at the thought that she might actually touch him. The deafening silence was broken with the strong whoosh of the door swinging open. “They told me you decided to join us. Glad to see you, Captain. How are you feeling?” “Confused.” What the hell kind of a question was that? Two strange women were in his room telling him one of them was his wife. How should he feel? “That’s understandable. How do you feel physically? Is the arm causing you much discomfort?” Harm realized for the first time that his left shoulder was bandaged and did indeed have a rather annoying throbbing sensation pounding at him, especially since he’d yanked it away from the nurse. “It hurts, if that’s what you’re asking.” “On a scale of one to ten, how much is it hurting?” Harm had to think about that a little longer than he felt he should have. What are these people trying to do to him? There is a strange woman claiming to be his wife, and this guy is worrying about number lines. “A lot, a little?” the doctor coaxed. “Seven,” Harm huffed. “Very good. We’ll adjust your pain medication accordingly. Have you got a headache?” Was this man trying to make him feel worse? Rubbing his temple with his good arm, “Yeah, now that you mention it, and before you ask, about a five.” The doctor chuckled to himself and nodded. He may not remember who he is, but the keen mind that made Harmon Rabb such a famous lawyer was still hiding there somewhere. Stepping around the nurse, Dr. Pena moved Harm’s gown and began probing around his incision, ignoring any possible discomfort Harm might have felt at being somewhat exposed to his audience. “Any tenderness?” Harm was staring horrified at his chest. He had a scar that ran straight down his middle as far as he could see. “No need for concern,” the doctor tried to calm Harm when he spotted his patient’s reaction. “We had to repair quite a bit of damage. You were bleeding internally and opening you from sternum to pubic bone is standard procedure in emergency surgery. In time the scar will be barely noticeable, especially on your chest.” Reality came crashing down on Harm with the weight of an anvil. They were telling him the truth. “What happened?” Harm looked at all three faces in the room. The doctor glanced quickly at Mac. She seemed to be holding up remarkably well under the circumstances, but it was time to test the waters. “You’ve been in a car accident,” Mac volunteered. She couldn’t stand staying quiet any longer. At least this much information couldn’t possibly harm his psyche, or his recovery. “When?” Harm looked at Mac since she’d been the one to answer his question. He didn’t see the doctor nodding behind him for her to answer again. “A little over three weeks ago. You’ve been in a coma.” Mac hoped she hadn’t said more than she was supposed to. Harm’s brow inched high on his forehead again. Letting his head fall back against the pillow, he focused intently on the ceiling tiles, finally asking, “What’s my name?” “Harmon Rabb, Jr. Captain Harmon Rabb, Jr. United States Navy.” Mac stared longingly at him, praying that somewhere in the current fog that must be his brain, that somewhere he could find a fragment of recollection. “And yours?” He looked down from the ceiling at her. “Colonel Sarah Rabb, United States Marine Corps. You call me Mac.” Mac hadn’t realized she had scooted closer on the edge of her seat, hoping for some flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Mac?” Harm hadn’t meant for his face to scrunch up in disbelief. Chuckling quietly, she explained, “Yeah. It’s short for my maiden name, MacKenzie.” Mac’s hopes sank once again when Harm returned to gazing at the ceiling. “How long have we been married?” “It will be 11 years on October 9th.” Mac resisted the urge to reach forward and take his hand in hers. Harm squeezed his eyes shut, still facing the ceiling. Eleven years. Why couldn’t he remember? Were they good years, bad years? “Why don’t I remember?” “You were banged up pretty good in that accident, but your inability to remember is caused by the head trauma. You had some intracranial bleeding. Basically your brain banged around in your skull, was bruised, swollen, and continued bleeding. That’s what put you in a coma. Now that the swelling and pressure have decreased, you’ve woken up,” Dr. Pena explained in extremely simplistic terms. “When will I remember?” Harm was staring intently at the doctor. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Will I ever remember?” Harm didn’t like the body language he was reading. Not that he knew why, but he felt he was good at it and trusted his instincts. “I don’t know that either.” “Is it possible?” “Maybe.” This man definitely still had the ability to corner a witness. Dr Pena just preferred not being the person on the wrong end of the inquisition. “In other words, not likely?” Harm understood perfectly what this man wasn’t saying. “I didn’t say that. We have to wait and see. Usually bits and pieces of memory come back slowly over the first few days.” Nodding at the nurse, Dr. Pena gestured for them to leave the couple alone. “Mrs. Rabb can fill you in on any questions you may have. Don’t try to fill in all the gaps too fast. Take your time. I’ll have Commander Brubeck, your neurologist, stop by later to check on you. When you’re feeling up to it we can discuss what happens next.” Harm watched the door slowly close behind the doctor and nurse. ‘What happens next.’ What the hell does happen next? “I think I want to rest now,” Harm didn’t even turn to look at Mac, he couldn’t. “No problem. I...I’ll go call the house, check on the kids.” Mac started to get up, suddenly realizing what she’d said. Turning slightly to glance at Harm she wasn’t surprised to see his eyes wide in horror again. Chapter 12 “We have children?” Why did this thought hurt so much? Scanning his mind quickly, he didn’t seem to remember anything about them either, but he could feel a deep ache rising in his chest. “Two. Patricia and Thomas.” Mac hesitated. “Do you still want to be alone for a little while?” “I...I don’t know, but you should probably go take care of the children.” “It’s okay if you want me to stay. Your mom is with them.” “My mom?” Harm tried really, really hard to remember something, anything. Mac could see the pain in his eyes at the realization he didn’t remember his own mother. Harm rubbed his hands across his eyes. “No, you go. I think I need to rest.” He didn’t watch her leave, so he didn’t see the slump in her normally sturdy shoulders, nor the tears she was nobly fighting not to shed. Mom... How could he forget his own mother? No wonder he couldn’t remember his wife. Was there anything he could remember? Almost frantically he searched and searched his memory banks. Was it really possible to have one’s mind a blank slate? He had to remember something, anything. Surely, he had a favorite pet, an annoying aunt who always pinched his cheeks, a friend who cut school with him, a girl under some bleachers. Damn it, wasn’t there anything he could remember? Harm closed his eyes. Maybe he should have stayed in the coma. The green eyed little boy ran freely throughout the enormous castle. Round and around the Christmas tree he ran, laughing and playing with his new toys. The oversized tree was covered in bright lights and garland. From the cold stone floor to the ceiling high over his head, the tree was a beacon of Christmas cheer. The nearing sound of the roaring dragon pierced the playful world of the little boy. No, not again. Running as fast as his little feet would carry him, the boy ran down the stairs, deeper and deeper under ground. “He’s coming, he’s coming,” he cried. “What is it baby?” a sweet voice called from the bottom of the stairs. “The mean monster is back, he’s coming to take you away.” “It’s alright, baby. There is no monster. No one is going to take me away.” “He is. I know he is. Just like he took the King.” The little boy looked around the cold room stiffening at the sound of the heavy footsteps. “They’re coming. I told you they’d come for you! You have to hide.” Running around the darkened room the little boy shook all the bars on the cells. “We have to hide.” The footsteps were growing louder and louder. Turning around he couldn’t see his mother anymore. “Mama? Mama?” he cried, cringing in the corner as the hollow footsteps landed loudly on firm ground. Curling up as small as he could, he watched the two monsters walking closely. No wait, they weren’t monsters. They were soldiers in black uniforms with gold stripes and white hats. They were coming to take his mommy, but where was mommy? “You can not hide. We will find you. We will always find you,” the disembodied voices filled the air. The little boy looked up and watched as the two giant soldiers threw a dirty, hairy man into a bamboo cage and pulled the chord letting him hang over the room like a chandelier. “You’re next dear,” they announced to the beautiful woman beside them. “You need to take your place with the King.” “NO!” he screamed. “Not my mommy. Not my mommy!” “NO!” Harm sprang up from bed. A sharp pain shot from his shoulder, down across his chest and midsection. “Captain!” A startled voice came through the door. “Are you okay? You’re soaking!” Nurse Kathy exclaimed. Hurrying to help him lay back down, she pushed a button calling to the main desk. “I’m going to need a change of sheets in here.” Making sure her patient was lying back comfortably, Kathy retrieved a small towel from the bathroom and used it to wipe the sweat from Harm’s brow. “Looks like you had a nasty dream. You just take it easy now and we’ll get you into something clean and dry.” Rabb House Same time “Rabb residence.” “Mom.” “What’s wrong, dear?” Trish could tell from Mac’s single word that something was wrong, very wrong. “Is it Harm?” “He’s awake,” Mac said softly. “Thank you, God,” Trish whispered softly upward. “Mom, there may be a problem.” Trish gripped the phone tightly waiting for Mac’s next words. “He has amnesia. He doesn’t seem to remember...any of us.” Mac took a step from under the shade of the hospital entryway into the warmer sunlight. Trish wasn’t sure what to say. A thousand questions were running through her head, and yet, she couldn’t settle on any one thing to ask. “He wanted to be alone for a little while. I came outside to use my cell phone.” Mac suddenly felt incredibly tired. “Could you please call the Admiral? I don’t think I have another phone call in me.” “Of course, dear. I’ll call the Admiral and find someone to stay with the kids so I can come back. Mac?” “Mm.” “Don’t worry, dear. I know it will be okay.” Mac nodded her head as though Trish could see through the phone. “I’m going to get a soda and head back upstairs. Take your time, I think he wants to be alone.” Mac strolled slowly to the nearest vending machine. The caffeine in a diet soda would hit the spot right about now. She hadn’t exactly prepared herself for this possibility. She was going to have to decide how to handle it. What to tell the children. Truth be told, she was stalling. She was afraid to go back to his room, of what might happen next. Tossing the empty soda can in the nearest trash bin, Mac straightened her shoulders. No sense in putting off the inevitable. She pushed open the door to Harm’s room and practically marched inside, coming to a complete halt when she spotted the nurse fussing over him. “What’s going on?” she asked rather harshly. “We had a nightmare,” Kathy answered. Mac almost laughed at the glare Harm shot the nurse’s way for using the word ‘we’. At least some of Harm was still locked somewhere inside him. “Can I help?” “No, thank you. We’re just finishing up here.” Kathy fluffed a pillow, tugged softly at Harm’s gown and smiled as she walked past Mac and out the door. Mac hesitated just a moment before moving closer to the bed. “Are you...okay?” “It was just a dream. I don’t see why everyone is making such a fuss.” “What was it about?” Mac couldn’t help but wonder if his nightmare hadn’t been reliving the ramp strike, or something just as painful for him, like Darlyn. There were lots of close calls in Harm’s history. “Christmas in a castle with a dragon, a king, a damsel in distress, and two nasty monsters in sailor suits,” Harm answered rather coldly. “Oh,” she replied softly, “Do you mind if I sit down?” Harm let out what sounded like an irritated sigh. “No.” Mac felt the tears threatening to fall again. Her head knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t really want her around, but her heart was slowly breaking into little pieces. “Who am I?” Harm shifted slightly, pushing the buttons at his side to raise the head of the bed. “What do you mean?” “I know my name, but who am I?” “You’re an honest, loyal, brave man, who just happens to be a loving father and husband, and a damn fine officer.” Chapter 13 Harm studied this woman carefully. For the first time since he’d woken up he really looked at her. Not as a stranger, or a schemer, but as a woman, a beautiful woman. He hadn’t really noticed before. “What do I do in the Navy?” “You’re a lawyer. More specifically, you’re on staff with the CNO. Your experience in the courtroom and the cockpit makes you an especially valuable asset. You’re up for your first star but most likely will get two when Cresswell retires this year. Rumor has it you’re at the top of the short list for the next JAG.” Harm stared at her nearly open-mouthed. Most of what she had just told him sounded like a foreign language. “Did you say I’m a lawyer?” “That’s right. You’re also a pilot.” “A pilot?” “You used to fly tomcats.” “Tomcats?” The more questions she answered, the more confused he was getting. “It’s a type of plane.” Mac could see the frustration levels rising in eyes. His entire comportment reeked of barely restrained emotions. “I think I need to rest.” This was all too much. It was like a horrible nightmare. He was sure as a lawyer and an officer in the Navy he was supposed to have understood whatever this woman just said, but he didn’t. None of it. “Yes, of course.” Mac shifted awkwardly in her chair. She could probably go wait for Trish in the family room. Pushing back her chair, she was startled by the appearance of Harm’s neurologist, unsure of why she hadn’t heard the door open. “I’m sorry, were you leaving?” “I was just going down the hall for a little while, but it can wait.” Mac sat back down in the increasingly uncomfortable chair. “I’m Commander Brubeck.” The tall, slender man introduced himself to Harm, then began doing a cursory examination. “I’ve scheduled you for a CAT scan tomorrow. That should give us a better idea of where we stand.” Mac watched the doctor carefully. “I understand you don’t remember very much at the moment,” the doctor offered, flashing a small light in Harm’s eyes. “More like nothing at all,” Harm scoffed, practically blinded by the blinking light. “Did they tell you how long you’ve been in a coma?” “Three weeks,” Harm answered. “How you were hurt?” “In a car accident.” “You’re a lawyer, I understand?” “That’s what they tell me.” “Where were you born?” “Pensacola,” Harm answered without hesitation, immediately looking to Mac for affirmation. A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she nodded yes. “When did you graduate high school?” “I don’t know. No, wait...” Harm curled his brow. “1985?” “That’s the year you graduated the academy,” Mac corrected, not sure what to make of the small amounts of information. “Where did you meet your wife?” Harm stared back at the doctor, embarrassed to admit he had no idea. “Off hand, I would say Dr. Pena is correct. You appear to be suffering from post traumatic retrograde amnesia.” Commander Brubeck stepped back to speak with both Harm and Mac. “Which means?” Mac inquired. “For now, he’s having a hard time remembering things that happened before the accident. He’s been able to remember the information that he’s recently been given, which is a very good sign. Many amnesia victims with some brain damage are never able to convert short term information into long term memory storage. You seem to be able to process new information and recall it without any problem.” Noticing neither Harm nor Mac seemed very relieved at this tidbit of information, the doctor continued, “Your injuries could have been much more severe. There are people who wake up from a closed head injury who can’t remember how to talk, or walk. They have to struggle to relearn everything they learned in childhood.” “I guess there are still some things to be thankful for,” Harm said quietly, not feeling very convinced. “I suggest we take this one day at a time and see how much information you regain. Pure retrograde amnesia is very uncommon.” “What exactly is that?” “When all memories prior to the traumatic injury are lost and never recovered.” Mac felt herself swallow a gasp. This couldn’t be happening. Before anyone could say anything else, Trish walked briskly into the room, stopping short at the sight of her son wide-awake. “Harm,” she grinned, her eyes immediately filling with tears. “Mom?” Harm asked timidly. “You remember me?” She moved closer to the bed, wanting to hug her son hello, but afraid of how he might react. “No, I mean yes. You were in a dream I had. You were the damsel in distress.” “I haven’t been considered a damsel in one hell of a long time, Harmon Rabb.” Trish hadn’t meant to use her motherly tone on him, but it just slipped out. “I was a little boy, maybe five or six years old, playing with a toy airplane, running around a really big Christmas tree. Then I heard dragons roar and ran to find you. I seemed to think I had to protect you from being taken away like the King had been. There was a dungeon, and cells, and a haggard man in a bamboo cage, and two monsters who turned out to be men in dark uniforms with white hats.” Trish and Mac paled at his retelling. Even the doctor noticed the change in their color. “Does this have some significance for you ladies?” the doctor asked, his curiosity piqued. “My husband was shot down in Vietnam on Christmas Eve 1969. Two officers in winter blues came to tell me the news on Christmas day. Harm had been playing with a toy F4 his dad had sent him when the men came to the door.” Trish suddenly felt the need to sit down, quickly. Noticing her wobble, Mac sprang up and offered Trish her chair. “He was held captive in Vietnam until he was moved to a prison camp in the Soviet Union,” Trish continued. “The King?” Harm whispered softly. Trish nodded her head. “You went all the way to Russia to find him,” she told her son, dropping her hand lightly on his. “Did I?” “He was killed in 1980.” Trish was having a hard time retelling the story. Her only consolation was the tight grip her son wrapped around her hand. Not very comfortable with the private family moment, Commander Brubeck shifted in place. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s time I should be going. I’ll be back tomorrow after the CAT scan. You should be off the catheter and moving around a bit by then.” Trish and Mac nodded their understanding and turned their attention back to Harm. Mac took the seat on the other side of the bed. Quietly, she sat listening to Trish recount Harm’s childhood. She and Harm both had to laugh when Trish got to the story of Uncle Charlie getting caught in the chimney. Mac cringed when Trish went over Harm’s trip to Vietnam at sixteen. Mac had heard it before from Harm, but hearing it again still sent shivers down her spine. Harm listened to the retelling of his life with the impassivity of a sloth. Occasionally, he felt as though the people and places his mom mentioned were just floating around outside his reach, waiting for him to grab them and reel them in. When Trish noticed Harm’s eyelids starting to droop, she decided it was a good time to call it a day. “It’s getting pretty late and you need your rest.” Trish tapped Harm lovingly on the hand. For the first time Harm noticed how tired the two women looked. “I could say the same thing about you.” As if on cue, Mac stifled a yawn. “When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep? Either one of you?” Harm asked, not needing a response. “I would like some time to myself. I think you should go home. Get a good night’s sleep.” The two women nodded their assent. Despite her initial instinct to insist on staying, Mac recognized that she needed to be home with her children tonight. Things were going to be very different starting tomorrow morning. Chapter 14- Mac thought about it all night and well into the early hours of the morning. She finally decided it was best for the moment not to tell the children that Harm had woken up. At least not until he’d had some time to get used to the idea of being Harmon Rabb and they could discuss what to do about him seeing the children. She managed to convince Trisha that due to some scheduled tests it would be best if she skipped reading to her dad today. Much to Mac’s relief, Trisha didn’t put up a fuss and was more than content to just read twice as much to her dad the next day. Trish announced that she had quite a bit of gallery business she needed to handle over the phone and would be staying home this morning. The fact that she’d have to wait until noon Eastern time before the gallery even opened meant it was very possible Trish wouldn’t be spending much time at the hospital today. Mac found it rather sweet that Trish picked today of all days to have to tend to business. Somehow, Mac was fairly sure that whatever Trish had deemed so important was most likely just an excuse to leave her and Harm alone. Harm had slept soundly through the night. If he’d had any more dreams or nightmares, he didn’t remember them. Bright and early, another nurse had come in to remove the catheter and show him how to use the plastic urinal. “You’ve been stationary too long. Moving around is going to be hard and painful. It’s not easy being cracked open the way you were, but it will get easier. For today we’ll start with sitting in a chair for a while. Then we’ll slowly get you walking around. Soon you’ll be able to use the bathroom instead of this.” She set the urinal down on the nightstand. “You already know how to adjust your bed. If you need to call a nurse, just push that button there.” Lt. Debbie Peters pointed to a panel on the side of the bed. Harm looked carefully at all the pictures on the narrow box. Confident he recognized which one was intended for calling the nurse, he nodded his head. “Thank you.” He had no idea how long he had been staring out the window at the blue sky when he heard the creak of the door opening. “Morning,” Mac smiled tentatively. “Hi,” Harm answered back, not really sure if he was happy to have her here or not. “The nurse said you had a good night.” Mac set the bag she’d brought down on the corner by the bed. “She also said they’re going to be starting you on real food today.” Harm watched Mac keep herself busy, hovering around the bed. He hadn’t really thought about this from her perspective. Here he was watching a perfect stranger, someone he knew nothing about, cared nothing about, and yet he felt put out, pressured by all that was expected from him regarding her. While she moved around doing what must be small wifely things, he realized she was most likely in the same position. Though her memories of the years of shared experiences were completely intact, the man she loved and married, for now, might as well be dead. She too was being forced to be with a total stranger. “I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Mac hesitated looking at something in her hands, “but I don’t know what to do about the children.” A nervous flock of geese began fluttering in Harm’s stomach as Mac slowly approached him. “I brought a few pictures.” She handed him two 5 x 7 photo frames. “There’s more in the bag if you’d like to see them.” Harm accepted the pictures, studying the pretty little girl in front of him. A small part of him hoped that seeing her might trigger some memory, but he was drawing another complete blank. Not even a flicker of emotion stirred in him. No paternal instincts, no sense of some connection. He felt hollow inside. “Did you say her name is Patricia?” Harm didn’t look up from the picture. “After your mother, and Sarah after your grandmother. She’s nine now.” Mac leaned back against the foot of the bed. Harm looked up at Mac, squinting slightly, then looked back at the photo. “She looks like you, doesn’t she?” “For the most part, but she has your green eyes and the Rabb smile.” Mac had folded her hands in front of her and was now nervously twiddling her fingers. Switching the photo of Trisha with the one underneath, Harm’s eyes opened wide, “Wow. I wonder if this is what I looked like as a boy.” He looked up at Mac slightly open-mouthed. “That’s what your mom says,” she smiled. “He can wrap the girls in his class around his finger with just a smile. That kid has dress whites and gold wings written all over him,” she teased. Harm frowned, “Dress whites and gold wings?” “It’s an expression about fighter pilots,” Mac skirted. “You think he’s going to be a fighter pilot?” Harm didn’t understand what that had to do with the little boy’s captivating smile. “The entire expression is ‘dress whites and gold wings will get you in bed anywhere.’” Mac hoped she wasn’t blushing. Even though she was technically chatting with the one man in the world who knew her more intimately than anyone else, she was still talking to a perfect stranger. Harm raised one eyebrow, his eyes twinkled slightly, and Mac felt her heart swell. Her Harm was in there somewhere. “Did they?” he grinned mischievously. “Did they what?” Mac was seriously flustered by the power of that smile. “Get us into bed?” Harm’s small grin flourished into a full blown flyboy smile until he saw the shock on Mac’s face. Quickly backpedaling, “I...I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. Please accept my apology?” Mac pressed her lips tightly together. Apparently the fighter jock and the gentleman were still in there somewhere battling each other. “As a matter of fact. You asked me to marry you without sleeping with me.” “So, I really am an officer and a gentleman?” Harm wasn’t sure why, but he felt really badly about having possibly offended her. He wasn’t sure if it was just his nature, or perhaps deep down he really did care about this woman. “Yeah.” Mac’s mind had wondered back to the day he proposed. She wasn’t completely sure if offering to go halves on a baby would be considered very gentlemanly, but she loved him so much for it. “You said you had more.” “Oh, yeah.” Mac happily grabbed the bag and began handing Harm photos. “That’s all of us at Christmas last year.” Harm studied the family photo. He certainly looked happy, but then again, seasonal portraits could be deceiving. When he set the photo down, Mac handed him another. “That was you and Tommy two summers ago. It’s one of my favorite photos.” From the looks of it, Harm had been playing baseball with his son. Someone snapped the photo just as the little boy’s bat connected with an oversized plastic ball. Tommy’s eyes were huge in surprise, and Harm was grinning from ear to ear. It really was a sweet photo. Harm couldn’t resist smiling even though he had no recollection of the event. “Is he a good ball player?” Harm glanced up. “He’s only six, but yeah, I think he’s pretty good. How many four year olds do you know who can hit a pitched ball?” What little smile was on his face, slid away at her words. “I’m sorry. I... I didn’t mean....” Mac didn’t know what to say. “I know. Have another?” Mac showed Harm the other photos she had gathered from around the house. The photo of Trisha at her first piano recital that sat on the baby grand. Another photo from the mantel, of Tommy and Trisha posing in Sarah. Photograph after photograph, Harm realized he was always smiling, happy. Even in the candid shots. He actually started aching for what he couldn’t remember. This man he was had a good life. Suddenly, he was filled with fear. Could he become the man these people remembered, the man in these photos? Would he even want to? BACK NEXT HOME