Who_4


	Chapters 1-7 Chapters 8-14 Chapters 15-21 Chapters 22-28 Chapters 29-35 Chapters 36-41 Title: Who Am I Chapter 22 Harm didn’t have to be a genius to figure out the sound of pounding hooves quickly approaching was undoubtedly two small children running up the wooden porch steps. When the front door flung open with a loud thud, his speculation was quickly confirmed. “DAD!” Tommy dropped everything he was carrying on the floor and ran into the den where Harm was still resting. “Tommy! I swear, do you have to leave everything in the middle of the floor!” Trisha sounded incredibly like a mother hen. Mac came running up the stairs when she heard the troops coming home. “Remember, your father’s not well,” she called from the basement door, picking up Tommy’s things as she made her way to the den. “Take it easy sport, your mom is right,” Harm winced as the young boy wrapped his arms around his dad squeezing tightly. Lady pounced nearby, having taken all the activity as her cue to greet Harm again. “Okay, that’s enough. Tommy, you take all of this up to your room, and take Lady with you.” Mac held out the backpack, cleats, and miscellaneous papers she’d collected from the hall. “You okay?” Trisha asked, leaning over and gently kissing her dad hello. “Couldn’t be better.” Harm still had absolutely no recollection of these two children, but nonetheless, after the two-hour photo session, he felt he knew them a little better today than he had yesterday. “Do you have any homework?” Mac asked, still standing in the doorway. “A little. Can I do it in here?” Mac nodded her head yes. She and Harm usually preferred their children do homework in the quiet of their rooms, hoping it would help encourage good study habits later on when class work became more challenging, but she couldn’t see any reason to insist on that today. “Are they always that energetic?” Harm had waited till both kids were upstairs to ask. “Pretty much, yeah.” Mac smiled broadly. No sooner had Trisha returned with her homework than Tommy was bouncing into the room. “You ready, Dad?” “Ready for what?” “Practice.” Harm turned blankly towards Mac. “No, honey,” Mac came over from the shelves where she’d been hunting for home videos. “Daddy won’t be ready to coach soccer for a long time yet.” Coach soccer? Mac had neglected to give Harm that little tidbit of information in all of her rundowns. Taking a few moments, he scanned his memory banks. As usual, he drew a complete blank. He had absolutely no idea how to play, never mind coach, soccer. “It’s still not time to leave. Why don’t you go kick the ball around in the backyard for a little while until we need to go?” Mac suggested. Huffing quietly, Tommy grabbed the soccer ball and ran out the back door. “Mac, I don’t know how to coach soccer.” “That’s okay,” she smiled. “You never did.” “What?” he frowned. “Everyone decided since we used to live in England, you’d be the best qualified dad, so they voted you as coach.” “You’re kidding?” “Nope.” The grin on Mac’s face grew a little broader. He’d had this exact expression on his face the day the dads informed him he’d been chosen to replace Coach Hammons, who’d been transferred to Buffalo. “You’re serious?” Harm wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh with Mac or wipe the silly grin off her face. “Yup.” Her bright smile was growing into an amused grin. “You’re not going to let me off the hook are you?” A small smile was beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. “’Fraid not.” Mac was almost giggling. “Okay, ‘mom’, tell me, how do I coach a game I know nothing about?” Her humor was infectious, Harm was chuckling now too, and he knew better. Trying not to laugh out loud, Mac turned around and reached onto the bookcase, retrieving a thin book. “Here you go.” “What Every Dad Needs to Know About Coaching Soccer,” Harm read aloud. “Gee, thanks.” “Thought you’d appreciate it. Who knows, maybe the season will be over before your doctor releases you.” Momentarily biting her lower lip, she chuckled again. “Then you won’t need to be ready till next season!” Quickly, Mac turned around. “Gotta go!” Laughing, she rushed out the back door calling for Tommy. Harm sat laughing quietly, still holding the book in his hand. Glancing across the coffee table at Trisha, he looked back at the cover, then over to where Mac had just escaped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Later that night Tommy’s room Harm sat on the edge of the bed reading Huckabey Plays Hockey. Half way through the colorful book, Harm smiled at the adorable sleeping little boy. He was amazed the child had managed to stay awake as long as he had. The kid was one massive ball of energy. “Trisha’s waiting for you to kiss her goodnight.” Mac stood in the doorway watching her two favorite men. Patting Tommy gently on the back, Harm slowly stood up. He’d be happy when he could move about without any soreness or discomfort. Following Mac down the hall, he found Trisha patiently waiting her turn. “Good night, Princess.” Harm sat by the bedside. Leaning over was still not an option. “Sweety, you’re going to have to sit up to kiss Daddy,” Mac prompted. “Oh!” Trisha sprang up immediately, then gingerly hugged her dad, kissed his cheek, and snuggled back under the covers. “Sleep well.” Harm patted his daughter the same way he had his son and followed Mac across the hall, stopping at the threshold. Mac had strolled into the room, not giving Harm any thought. She’d paused by the dresser to remove her jewelry, as she did every night before retiring, when she realized Harm was still standing almost nervously at the door. “Is something wrong?” she frowned, not sure if she should go to him. They’d had a very calm first day, but she had to remind herself that the often confused, frustrated, and sometimes angry man before her was unpredictable. “I... I was wondering if maybe it wouldn’t make more sense if I... uh, slept downstairs.” Harm’s eyes darted briefly over to the bed. “Oh.” Following his eyes to the bed and back, Mac took a short breath. “I’m sorry, it never... never occurred to me you would want to sleep... somewhere else.” Crossing her arms, she gently rubbed them, trying to chase away the chill that had come from nowhere. Harm didn’t know what to say. He knew there was nothing improper if they shared a bed. They were legally married, but it felt wrong. It felt like taking advantage somehow, and yet the look on her face left him wishing he hadn’t said anything. “I’d better go get clean sheets for you.” Mac turned rather abruptly, walking past him. “Mac.” Harm reached out and gently grabbed her arm. Stopping short at his side, “Yes?” Her eyes drew upward, locking on his. Harm found himself drawn into her large, sad, dark eyes. “What would your Harm do?” “My Harm hated sleeping alone.” They had both dreaded assignments that forced them to sleep apart. “I see.” Harm was still holding gently onto Mac, his eyes flickered briefly downward at the hand gripping her arm. “But he also slept in a chair our entire trip to Russia,” Mac smiled at the memory. She just wished the noble side of her Harm wasn’t winning out tonight. “Mac.” Harm hesitated a beat, struggling for the right words. “Do you want me to stay downstairs?” His voice was low and unsteady. Releasing his grip, his eyes once again locked onto hers. To Mac it felt as though Harm’s fingers were slipping away in slow motion, as though he were slipping even further away. Her voice stuck in her throat, but she managed to quietly whisper, “No.” Still staring into his troubled gaze, she cleared her throat, “I don’t expect, I mean, you wouldn’t have to... that is...” Lightly tapping her arm, he interrupted her, his voice a little stronger. “Which side of the bed is mine?” “Left side.” Mac watched him step into the room. Still gripped by the grappling emotions of fear, desperation, and now relief, she thought maybe tonight she could finally get a decent night’s sleep. Knowing Harm was where he belonged made all the difference in the world. Chapter 23 Harm stopped when he reached his side of the bed. He stared long and hard at the comfortable looking piece of furniture before scanning the room and turning back to where Mac was still standing. “I don’t know what to do,” he almost whispered. Mac was momentarily confused. She wasn’t sure what Harm was referring to. Surely, he wasn’t worried about having to ‘be’ with her. Before she could analyze the situation further, Harm had read the curl in her brow. “Where are my pajamas?” he started. “Do I have a night-time routine?” He raised his arm to the other side of the room. “Which is the bathroom door?” With every question Mac could see his frustration level approaching a breaking point. The day had been so easy and smooth, she’d forgotten she still needed to walk him through every step of their lives. “You don’t like pajamas,” she interrupted quickly before he could work himself into a tizzy. Harm’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped visibly open, but no words came out. Mac didn’t dare try to imagine what was running through his mind. “You prefer sleeping in your boxers. In the winter you’ll sleep with a t-shirt, too.” Mac hesitated waiting for some reaction, deciding it was probably best to keep talking. Walking around the bed, she opened a door. “This is our closet. It’s a walk-in, unusual for these older homes.” She moved a few feet to the next door. “This is the linen closet, and over here is the bathroom.” Holding the bathroom door open, she waved one arm into the room. Harm took a few steps closer, and looked inside. Turning back to look at Mac, his voice was weak, almost scared. “Do I at least own pajamas?” “Yes, as a matter of fact, you do.” A flood of relief washed through her. The look on his face told her a negative response would not have been well received. “You have one pair. We bought them for that summer vacation we took with the Roberts family by the shore when we were stationed in England. We shared a cottage and you thought it would be more prudent to sleep in pajamas.” Hurrying into the closet, Mac rummaged through a few shelves before pulling out the nightwear. “Here you go.” “Thank you. Do you want to go first?” he asked almost timidly. “Go first?” Mac was confused again. “The bathroom. To change.” “Oh! No, I usually change in here, um, I mean, why don’t you go first.” Harm nodded his head, proceeding to the bathroom he stopped short in the doorway. “Did we bring my toothbrush and things from the hospital?” “No.” Mac quickly rushed past him into the bathroom. “I thought you’d prefer your own things.” She reached across the sink and picked out his toothbrush. “You prefer the Arm and Hammer toothpaste. I use the one for sensitive teeth.” “Thank you.” Harm stiffly accepted the toothbrush and waited for Mac to leave before continuing on his original mission. Mac watched the door close and heard the latch of the lock. A sinking feeling slammed into the pit of her stomach. They had never locked each other out of the bathroom, probably a natural progression from Harm’s old apartment that didn’t even have a bathroom door, never mind a lock. For the first time all day it hit her she was about to sleep with a stranger. He had done such an excellent job of pretending for the children’s sake that she had allowed herself to almost believe things weren’t really different. But they were. Her Harm may be buried somewhere deep inside this Harm and trying to get out, but the man locked in her bathroom and putting on pajamas was not her husband. When Mac came back to bed after her turn in the bathroom, Harm was sound asleep at the very edge of the bed. Quietly, she turned out the light and slid under the covers. Even if the husband who would wrap himself around her every night before falling asleep was gone, she was still thankful at least he was alive. The next morning, Mac had gotten the children off to school and was cleaning the kitchen when she heard Harm coming down the stairs. She had tried to keep the kids as quiet as possible so he could get some much needed rest. Although he’d done a wonderful job of hiding his discomfort, she knew parts of him had to still hurt like hell. “Good morning,” she called to him cheerily. “Do I have a bathrobe?” Mac wasn’t used to seeing Harm come downstairs looking quite so rumpled. “I think your mom washed it and put it away. Usually it’s on the hook behind the bathroom door.” “Did she put away my slippers, too?” “Actually, they’re under my side of the bed.” Mac wanted to kick herself. She should have realized the things she took for granted would be a source of major frustration for him, and having spent the last few weeks prancing around the house in his oversized slippers and leaving them under her side of the bed wasn’t helping him any. “Your side?” “I was... borrowing them.” A slow rising flood of understanding surged through his system washing away all his frustrations. It was so easy to forget he wasn’t the only one struggling. He might not be able to find his slippers or hairbrush, but she couldn’t find her husband. He was going to have to remember to cut everyone, including himself, some slack. “If you wouldn’t mind helping me find the bathrobe, please?” “Of course not.” Mac dropped the sponge on the counter and hurried up the stairs. By the time Harm arrived behind her, she’d already pulled out the slippers and the robe and was rummaging in the closet. “Do you know what you’d like to wear today?” She waited for a response, not surprised at the silence. Stepping out of the closet, she handed Harm a pile of clothing, “Since you don’t have to go anywhere, I thought these might be comfortable for you.” Harm accepted the clothes and smiled without looking at them. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you.” The remainder of the day was spent watching home videos. Mac explained as much as she could at different intervals. She especially enjoyed telling the stories that made Harm laugh. They watched a video of Bud and Harriet’s wedding. Harm was holding his sides in pain as she explained about the pregnant stripper, Lydia Beaumont Sims, and the Admiral joining them in jail. Her heart was still fluttering from the sound of Harm’s voice when he’d casually commented, “You haven’t changed at all. You’re still just as beautiful.” He’d been so intent on watching the video that he never noticed the way Mac’s cheeks had flushed at the complement. Until now, she wasn’t even sure if this Harm found her attractive. In only two days, Harm seemed so much more comfortable in his role as a father. Mac could almost see a glint of pride in his eyes as he watched the kids roam the house. At dinnertime she was even surprised when she heard Harm reminding Tommy not to talk with his mouth full. When the kids were home, it was as if her Harm was back. He often stumbled over things he should know, should have recognized, but the kids would smile at him and remind him, or explain it to him, and everything would quickly be right with the world again. It didn’t seem to bother them that their dad didn’t remember Tommy’s game winning goal, or Trisha’s piano recital. Trisha got a kick out of teaching her dad how to play tic tac toe, and Harm seemed to take it all in stride. It was almost as if he was enjoying learning to be a dad. If only she could find a way to help him learn about himself as easily. The look in his eyes when he couldn’t find his robe or slippers this morning had almost frightened her. She didn’t know what had come over him to make him smile and ask for help, but there were times, heaven help her, when she dreaded being alone with him, worrying about what he might not know next. Chapter 24 Shortly after dinner Mac was surprised when the doorbell rang. “Is this a good time to come in?” Meredith asked. “We were just coming from the Roberts’ house and thought we’d stop and check on Harm,” AJ added. “No, this is fine. We’ve had a good day. Come in, please.” Mac took the couple’s jackets and directed them into the den. “We have company,” she called into the room. “Uncle AJ!” Both Rabb children sprang up from in front of the TV and ran to hug two of their favorite people. “Did you bring me any candy?” Tommy asked gleefully. Reaching into his pocket, AJ grinned broadly, handing each child a candy cane. “Don’t eat it all at once and remember to brush your teeth twice.” Harm watched the interaction with great interest. He hadn’t gotten much of a feel for who this man was. Mac had explained he had been their CO for over three years before they’d gotten married, and he’d gone to great lengths in order for them to continue working together until she’d gotten pregnant with Trisha. But the significance of what she had tried to explain had escaped him. He couldn’t remember anything about the Navy. The reflexive salute that day at Bethesda was the only thing that came even close to a memory of being in the Navy, and even that didn’t mean anything to him. It had been an automatic response, much like covering his mouth when he yawned. No one had needed to re-teach him that, he just did it. Of all the friends he had met, this man definitely intrigued Harm the most. “Why don’t you two go get ready for bed, and then maybe Uncle AJ can be convinced to tell you a story?” Mac bribed. AJ had an unusual gift for getting the kids to bed quickly with the promise of one of his sailor stories. “Cool!” Tommy grinned. “If you’ll excuse me a few minutes.” Mac followed the children upstairs. With a child in each tub, bath time would go by more quickly this evening. “I see you’ve decided to give up shaving,” AJ chuckled, shaking Harm’s hand. Brushing his hand across his chin, Harm smiled pensively. “I guess so,” “How are you feeling otherwise, son?” AJ took a seat on the nearby sofa. “Not bad. Still moving slowly. Physical therapy starts on my shoulder tomorrow afternoon.” “I thought they started on those things right away?” “I did have a little therapy before leaving the hospital.” AJ nodded. “Meredith, do you think you could rustle us up a couple of drinks?” “I was just thinking that. Harm?” “No thanks, I’ve got a drink, but help yourself to anything you find.” “How are you doing really?” AJ wasn’t one for beating around the bush, and he’d been worried about the toll coming home would have on his longtime friend. “It could be worse. I don’t seem to have the children from hell, and my wife is pretty easy on the eyes.” Harm tried to laugh the question off. “I know you don’t remember me, but we’ve never let each other down. When my daughter was kidnapped by the Italian mafia, you were the one to help me rescue her, breaking several international treaties in the process.” A hint of smile teased the corners of AJ’s mouth. Not many men would have risked so much for a CO, a friend. Harm’s eyes opened wide. He had a feeling his old self was going to continue to be full of surprises. “Would I be correct in assuming my loyalties weren’t misplaced?” AJ smiled broadly. “I did my best.” He studied the torn look on Harm’s face. The man was struggling; there was no doubt of that. “What is it, Harm?” “I keep watching movies of a past I can’t remember. Mac tells me story after story of the places we’ve been, things we’ve done, people I should know. It’s like I’m reading another man’s biography. I can’t feel any of it. All I seem to feel is confusion and frustration. There are so many things I’m sure I should know, but I haven’t got a clue.” AJ could hear the rising frustration in Harm’s voice. “I have a beautiful wife, but she’s a stranger. Hell, I don’t even know her favorite color, her favorite food. Does she like to hold hands or mind kissing in public? Am I supposed to touch her, hold her, kiss her? What does she like, how does she like it? I don’t know! I feel like I’m living in another man’s shadow and there’s no way I can compete.” “Then stop trying to compete. Give yourself time,” AJ started. “I’m not going to remember,” Harm huffed. “No, but you can still learn. Harmon Rabb’s history may be gone, but the man is still inside you. The essence of who you are won’t change. You may not remember some unwritten code of honor that a naval officer supposedly lives by, but your heart is the same. It will show you. You don’t have to remember who Harmon Rabb was to help a stranger in need, or to remember how to treat a lady, or how to love your wife.” Upstairs Same time “Hey, lady. How’s it going?” Meredith had decided AJ didn’t really need a drink and had gone in search of Mac instead, not surprised to find her sitting on her bed, staring out the window. “How are you holding up?” “He offered to sleep in the guest room,” Mac mumbled. Meredith pressed her lips and nodded slowly, “He did, did he?” She gathered by the choice of words offered that, for whatever reason, Harm had indeed slept in his own bed. Mac nodded her head, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with her wedding ring. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.” Meredith sat down on the bed next to her. “Sometimes, mostly when he’s with the kids, it’s like nothing happened, but the rest of the time, it’s like talking to a stranger. No matter how many videos we watch, how many stories I tell him, none of it registers. None of it makes a difference. To me it’s our lives, who we are. To him, they’re just stories. Like watching an old movie.” Mac lowered her voice so her daughter wouldn’t hear. “Things will get better. You have to remember it wasn’t long ago we didn’t think he was going to ever wake up.” “He didn’t,” Mac almost spat. “Oh, honey. He may not have woken up the way you wanted him to, but in his heart he’s here with you.” Pulling Mac into a tight hug, Meredith suddenly wished she’d had a doctorate in psychology instead of English literature. “This is one time the Marines storming the beach won’t help. You’re going to have to be patient. Give him time. He’s only been home a few days.” “My head knows that, but my heart just wants him to look at the right photograph, the right face, and remember everything. I want him back, Meredith. All of him!” Mac couldn’t let herself cry. Trisha would be coming out of the bathroom soon and didn’t need to find her mom bawling on the bed with Aunt Meredith. Wiping the few tears from her cheek, Mac feigned a smile. “I’d better go check on Tommy. He must look like a prune by now.” “You’re right. I’ll go check on the big boys downstairs.” Giving her friend one last hug, Meredith headed for the kitchen in search of a couple of drinks, praying AJ’s conversation with Harm had been more productive. The last thing anyone wanted was for this thing to tear these two apart. Chapter 25 Harm rolled over in bed, opening one eye to see the time. Mac had let him sleep in again. He’d had a somewhat restless night. The Admiral’s words crept in and out of his dreams. It was all too much. He was putting all his energies into learning to be a dad again to his kids. He hadn’t even tried to fathom if he could return to the Navy, or if he’d even want to, and then there was Mac. Rubbing his face. This was all too much for him. He needed to focus on one thing at a time, one day at a time. Mac was downstairs sorting through more home videos, picking out ones that might be especially helpful for Harm to better remember his history with the kids. They’d spent so much time looking at the videos from the early years that Harm had no idea about the things the kids remembered and talked about from the recent past. She’d just placed another video on the stack when she heard a loud crash coming from the bedroom. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, Mac came to a screeching halt when she saw what was basically tantamount to a forty-seven year old temper tantrum. She could see through the doorway that all the lotions, perfumes and miscellaneous toiletries on the bathroom counter were scattered across the floor, and Harm was now in the bedroom tossing clothing and drawers on the floor like a madman. “Harm!” she called loudly. “This isn’t me!” he screamed back, tossing another drawer across the room. “HARM!” she yelled more forcefully, afraid to get any closer. Dear God. She was afraid to get close to her husband. Of all the years she’d been with Harm as colleague or lover, she’d never once been afraid of him. “I can’t find a damn thing!” “What do you need?” Mac tried to keep her tone under control. “EVERYTHING!” He spun around wildly. “I found a razor, but no shaving cream. I used the baby powder deodorant yesterday but I KNOW it’s not mine. I can only find one hair brush, and it’s PINK!” Harm rubbed his face forcefully, almost as if he was trying to rub it away, rub away any remnant of the man he didn't know. “Harm, take it easy,” Mac urged. “Take it easy!” he screamed. “All I can find are black socks. No brown, no blue, no white! There’s a closet full of white shirts. I’ve got every color uniform in there you could imagine; blue, white, tan, even BDUs. That’s not me! All I want is something to wear to therapy! Is that asking so much?!” Mac flinched at his use of BDU. Why could he remember meaningless things like that and not remember there’s no shaving cream in the house because he uses an electric razor? Pressing her lips tightly, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but the well of tears was pooling heavily in her eyes. “We keep our uniforms on one side of the closet and the civvies on the other,” she answered as calmly as she could despite the overwhelming urge to break down and cry. “Civvies?” Damn that blasted code! Couldn’t the military speak English like everyone else? “Civilian clothes. If you don’t like the clothes you already have, maybe we could do a little shopping and get something you’re more comfortable with.” Mac struggled with the tears still threatening to flow. For the first time since he’d begun his temper tirade, Harm paused to look at Mac. Really look at her. Immediately he was struck by the watery glow in her eyes and realized two things: one, she was fighting tears, and two, she was still standing in the doorway, obviously afraid to come in. Looking around the room, he was horrified to see the mess he’d created. All the anger had poured out of him and now he was filled with nothing but shame and disgust. Falling heavily onto his knees, he cried the tears Mac hadn’t dare shed. There were only a few times in her life Mac had seen Harm cry. This was the first time since this nightmare had begun that she had felt his pain. She’d seen his frustration, confusion and even his anger, but she’d never felt the pain. Her own fears discarded, she rushed to the floor beside him. “Get up before you hurt yourself,” she urged. Wrapping an arm around him, she nudged him until he slowly got up. Keeping her arm around his waist, the two walked over and sat down, side by side, on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry,” Harm mumbled, his eyes focused on a pile of Mac’s underwear dumped from one of the drawers. “The Admiral mentioned I needed a shave.” “The military and five o’clock shadow don’t mesh well,” Mac explained casually, her voice steadier. “He was right. I looked awful. I found a razor in the shower but there was no shaving cream.” “The razor is mine. I use it on my legs with soap, not shaving cream. You have an electric razor you like. It’s in the second drawer to the far right, along with your hairbrush.” “And the deodorant?” “In the medicine cabinet. All the things on the tray are... were mine.” “What medicine cabinet?” Harm was a little surprised by Mac’s calm demeanor after his insane behavior. “That pseudo-Picasso isn’t just decoration. It’s the door to the medicine cabinet. You didn’t like the plain oak so you changed it for something more colorful. I’m sorry. I should have thought to explain all this to you after your frustration at not finding things yesterday morning. It’s just... you remember so many little things that I forget how many you can’t recall.” “That’s part of what’s so infuriating! Why can I remember I need shaving cream to go with a razor, but can’t remember I have an electric shaver?” “You remembered BDUs,” Mac snorted to herself. “I remembered what?” Harm looked over at Mac. She was slumped over slightly. He could almost see the broken spirit; not the strong-shouldered Marine he’d come to know since he’d woken up. “BDUs are the camouflage uniforms we have to wear in certain conditions. Usually when we’re near a combat zone.” Mac couldn’t stop the heavy sigh that escaped. Watching Harm in so much pain had drained her almost as much as it had probably drained him. “I... I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry for that too.” Harm placed his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to erase the terrified look in her eyes as she’d stood in the doorway watching him. He’d seen her worried, sad, even heartbroken, but never anything as primal as that look of sheer horror. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I should know better. You would never hurt me.” Harm snorted at her blasé response. “You had every right to be scared to death at the madman loose in your bedroom, and I had no right to do that to you. I’m sorry.” He didn’t need to be told that his former self would never have lost control that way. “Our bedroom,” she softly corrected. “What do you say we start the morning over?” Mac took a deep breath. “Let’s clean up this mess. We’ll go through everything in the bathroom, closets and dressers. Anything you don’t like or want, we’ll put away in a box. After therapy today I can ask Harriet to take the kids home with her, and you and I can go shopping for a few things that feel more like you.” Harm stared stunned into her huge brown eyes. Just like that she’d forgiven him and moved on. “Sounds like a plan,” he replied in awe of the woman beside him. He wasn’t sure he could be so altruistic if the situation had been reversed. “Good. I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee and then we can tackle... this.” Mac stood up and waved her arm across the span of the room. “Mac?” Harm tilted his head watching her walk away. “Yes?” She hesitated. “What’s your favorite color?” Chapter 26 Roberts’ Home Two weeks later 31 days and two weeks and 23 @ Oct2 The next couple of weeks had come and gone with little import. Harm had rearranged all of his things in the bathroom, bedroom and closet the way he wanted. It was much easier than trying to remember what used to be. Once Mac had shown him where all his civilian things were he didn’t see any need to spend time shopping. Something told him shopping wasn’t something he was fond of anyhow. He did, however, pack up all the uniforms and move them to the attic. He hadn’t given it any serious thought, but deep down he knew he would never again be the man he had been, and a big part of that was the Navy. By now Harm had watched every video in the house several times over. He’d studied the faces and dialogue as though he were memorizing a role for a theatrical performance. In a way that’s how he felt. He was playing the part of Harmon Rabb. The one thing he was still having a hard time filling in the blanks on was his relationship with Mac. There was plenty of information from after the wedding but very little from before. The few times he’d attempted to broach the subject, Mac brushed it off. “Well, it looks like we finally get some peace and quiet.” Bud set a beer down on the table in front of Harm. “Oh, and how exactly did you accomplish that?” “I had nothing to do with it. Harriet and Mac are taking the kids to Sliders and Blues for dessert. That should be good for at least two hours of entertainment. So, which game do you want to watch?” Bud grabbed the remote for the large screen TV. “Doesn’t matter to me.” Harm had watched sports on TV but so far he hadn’t developed the love of basketball that Mac had indicated he used to have. Flipping the channels, Bud watched Harm out of the corner of his eye. The conversation so far had been light and friendly. The families had chatted over the weather, the children, the neighbors, and even ventured into political affairs. Very little was mentioned about anything that Harm might not remember, and discussion of the Navy and the pentagon was completely avoided. “That shoulder is looking pretty good,” Bud ventured. “Therapy is coming along well, but I guess you know all about that.” “Yeah, I do. Takes work and persistence. Doesn’t hurt to have a beautiful woman at your back,” Bud smiled. “No. I suppose not.” Harm began playing with the label on his bottle. “Something on your mind?” “It must have been hard for you and Harriet, after the accident, I mean. Picking up where you left off.” “It didn’t help that Harriet insisted on mothering me.” “I suppose there were some... rough seas there?” Harm snorted quietly. He could remember nautical metaphors and yet still had no recollection of the woman he had obviously once been very much in love with. He’d watched enough videos to notice the way he and Mac had been. The way he’d watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking, the subtle touches and careful caresses. He could see it in both their eyes. “It was tough, don’t get me wrong, but no, Harriet and I never really had any trouble. She was a pillar of support. I don’t think I would have made it through without her.” Noticing Harm was fidgeting mindlessly with his label, Bud took a chance. “Having problems with the Colonel?” “Not exactly.” Bud sat quietly waiting for Harm to continue. “I mean, you can’t lose something you never remember having.” Harm knew he wasn’t making much sense. “There’s no relationship to have trouble with.” “Ah... sort of like living with your sister?” “More like living with a neighbor. A sister I’d feel something for.” “And you don’t feel anything for the Colonel?” “Of course I do.” Harm looked up at hearing his own words. “She’s a lovely, smart, strong, sweet woman,” he justified. “But...?” “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Harm set the beer bottle down on the table loudly. “Why won’t Mac tell me about us?” “Us?” “Well, we were married in October of 1999. In January of 1998 I was dating Annie Pendry. At your wetdown in April of 1999 I was dating Jordan. When the hell did I date Mac? She won’t tell me. I even thought maybe it was a one night stand or something and we had to get married, but Trisha wasn’t born until 2001.” Bud could hear the growing frustration in Harm’s voice. “I don’t know what Mac has or hasn’t told you, but I think you need to see something.” Standing up, Bud walked into another room. A few minutes later he returned holding two large albums. “Harriet and Tiner had a thing for taking photographs.” Bud waved for Harm to come sit next to him. “This was when you and the then-Major first met.” Bud pointed to photos of Harm and Mac in the Arizona desert. “Where was Harriet?” Harm looked at photo after photo. Even if she’d been the photographer, she should have been in at least one or two photos. Clearing his throat, Bud admitted bashfully, “I may have started the propensity to take photos.” Harm swallowed a knowing smile and watched as Bud flipped through various pages. “These were taken shortly after you’d escaped from poachers in the mountains. That’s when Harriet thinks things changed. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the connection between you both seemed ... stronger some how.” Bud went through more photos: the NATO ball, working together to defend the ex-SEAL accused of murder, after the terrorists at Mercy hospital. “When was this?” There was one photo that especially caught Harm’s attention. The photo was of the Admiral and a younger woman at a party, but on either side of the pair, he and Mac were looking at each other from opposite sides of the room. Harm lifted it off the page to look more closely. “That was at the party the Admiral threw for his daughter Francesca. We didn’t all know it at the time, but Mac was being stalked. You and she had concocted some trap to catch the stalker,” Bud explained. “That’s the way I looked at her in some of our home movies.” “I’m not surprised.” “We weren’t dating or anything?” Bud shook his head no. “I think things were winding down with Annie at that time.” Especially curious now, Harm continued looking through more photos. Bud would explain the ones where Harm noticed the connection between him and Mac. Some were right after he’d tried to kill someone over a dead girlfriend. Some others were from Bud and Harriet’s wedding. Even though Harm had apparently brought another woman, a few of the photos caught glimpses of how he and Mac had obviously felt about each other. By the time Harm got to the photos from the party at the Sudanese Embassy, he’d seen enough. “What you’re saying is that Mac and I were in love and did nothing about it?” Harm closed the album. “I believe so.” “This went on for....” “Almost three years.” Bud did the calculations for him. “What changed?” “We’re not sure, but we think it had something to do with AJ’s birth.” “Why?” Chuckling loudly, Bud recounted, in greater detail than Harm had ever heard, the story of the day AJ was born. He ended with the day Harm and Mac arrived at his and Harriet’s apartment to announce they were getting married. “So just like that, one day we were mere colleagues and the next we were in love and getting married?” “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Now you know how we felt, but you and Mac seemed to think it made perfect sense. We’d never seen you happier.” Chapter 27 Golden Gate Mall Two weeks later “You’re sure you want to try this?” Mac asked for the millionth time in the last hour. “It’s just a little ice.” Harm finished tying Tommy’s laces and waddled out to the rink, Mac and Trisha following close behind. Harm took one step on the ice and his feet skidded awkwardly before sliding out from under him, landing him on his six and almost taking Tommy down with him. Tommy and Trisha looked at each other in a near panic before looking up at their mom. “I’ll give Daddy a few pointers. You two go off for a little while, and stay together. Did you hear me Tommy?” she called after her son. “Hold onto your sister’s hand.” Harm had managed to grab onto the side rails and hoist himself back on his feet. “I gather I didn’t do this often in my previous life?” He flashed a hint of his old flyboy smile. “No. You really didn’t. Here, give me your hands and take it slowly.” Mac had moved in front of him, holding her hands out for him to hang on to, and was carefully skating backwards. “You seem to be doing well,” Harm kept his eyes on Mac’s feet. “Trisha and I took lessons together. That got me started. The rest was just practice coming here with the kids.” “And I didn’t take lessons?” “You said if men were meant to walk on ice they’d have been born with webbed feet,” Mac chuckled softly, amused at Harm’s stiff efforts to skate. “Well that makes no sense. I flew planes and didn’t claim if men were meant to fly they’d have been born with wings.” Harm was still mostly watching Mac’s feet, slowly feeling a little steadier on his own. Laughing heartily, Mac shook her head at him. “Yeah, well, that argument never got me very far.” “Well, I’m trying now. Surely that counts for something?” “It does,” she grinned sweetly. “Okay, I think I’m getting the hang of this. Come around this way.” Harm let go of one hand and tugged at Mac with the other to join him at his side. “You sure?” She hesitated before moving over, secretly pleased he was at least still holding one hand. “Yeah, come on before I land on my ass again.” “Hey look!” Trisha called as she and Tommy whizzed by. “Daddy’s really skating.” “Don’t look so surprised!” Harm shouted to his children’s backs, waving his free arm at them. “Hey watch it!” Mac warned. The extra motion had made Harm wobbly on his feet and his weight was pulling Mac with him. “Oh, sorry.” Harm tried to turn slightly to steady them and instead lost his balance even further. Their feet wobbling and slipping, Mac wrapped an arm around Harm, trying desperately to catch her balance. By the time they’d got their footing, Harm’s arms were locked around Mac, and his breath was blowing heavily against her cheek. “You okay?” he asked softly against her skin. Even in the cool outdoors she still smelled delicious. “Uh...yeah.” Lifting her face to answer him, she found herself staring at his lips, barely an inch away from her. “You...uh...sure?” This was the closest to holding her he’d ever come and he wasn’t at all surprised to discover he didn’t want to let go. “Pretty sure.” Mac couldn’t stand it any more. It had seemed like forever since she’d felt his strong arms around her, and now his lips were so close to hers. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but the feel of his warm lips on hers sent shivers racing down her spine. It was a soft, sweet, tender kiss that reminded her of the warmth and love she’d been so desperately missing. Without realizing it, she shifted her weight, unconsciously trying to get even closer to the man she missed so very much. Instead of feeling the strength of his body against hers, she felt his mouth slipping away. The next thing she knew they were flailing in a tangle of arms and legs before landing with a thud in a large mangled heap. “Are you okay?” they chuckled simultaneously. “It serves me right for trying to kiss on a first date,” Harm laughed. “Date? I got news for you buster,” Mac laughed until she realized exactly what it was Harm had said. Her eyes suddenly widened with surprise. “Would dinner be better?” He smiled at her startled expression. “Do you need some help?” a strange voice offered. Harm and Mac had been so engrossed in the moment that neither had noticed the traffic jam their prone bodies had created in the flow of skaters. “Oh, thank you.” Mac extended her arm while two other strangers helped Harm up. As soon as they made it off the rink, Harm turned a little more steadily to face Mac. “You didn’t answer my question. Would you please join me for dinner?” “I... I think I’d like that.” Harm didn’t have much chance to respond when both kids came up behind them. “Is it time to go already?” Trisha asked. “No. You can take a few more rounds. Dad and I are going to sit over there and watch.” “Okay!” With the speed and agility that only comes with youth, the two kids were back on the ice, skating up a storm. Rabb Home Friday night Mac had pulled out four different outfits, tried on three of them, and she still couldn’t find something she thought was right. “Knock knock,” Harriet announced from the doorway. “I’m here to pick up Trisha but thought I’d check on you first.” “Oh, thank God you’re here. I’m never going to find something to wear. Harm dropped Tommy off at Sue’s half an hour ago. He thinks as soon as you pick up Trisha we’ll be ready to go.” “Let’s see what you’ve got here?” Harriet walked over to the bed. “This one is very nice.” She held up a brown pair of slacks with a matching turtleneck. “I don’t want nice, Harriet. I want ‘Wow, what are you doing for the rest of your life?’ “While I understand the sentiment, I think a simple ‘Wow, can we do this again’ would be sufficient.” Walking into Mac’s closet, Harriet started sifting through the clothes. “Where are those really nice black.... here they are. And that nice black sweater that’s almost a turtleneck on one side but unbuttons on the other to show your shoulder?” “It’s over here.” Mac walked over and opened an overstuffed drawer, rummaging through a variety of colors before pulling out the sweater Harriet had suggested. “Perfect. That says not too dressy, not too casual, just enough ‘hot’. “You don’t think the leather pants are a bit much?” “Not with your figure,” Harriet smiled. “You sure?” “Positive. Go get dressed, I’ll get Trisha and get out of here.” Kissing Mac quickly on the cheek, Harriet patted her arm reassuringly. “Just have fun.” “Thanks, Harriet.” As fast as she could, Mac changed her clothes and freshened up her makeup. She ran a brush through her hair and tried to convince herself that tonight wasn’t anything special. Harm had been pacing the den like a caged lion. He’d spent the last few days reminding himself of what the Admiral had told him. This wasn’t a competition, but he couldn’t help feeling he had to live up to who he used to be. When he heard Mac’s footsteps coming down the stairs, his stomach did one last flip-flop. “My God, you’re beautiful.” Chapter 28 Harm pulled up in front of Angelo’s Italian Restaurant. Getting out of the car, he said a quick prayer and walked around to get Mac’s door. “Bud recommended this place. Have you ever been here before?” “No, but I’ve heard good things about it.” Harm let his hand fall on the small of her back as they walked inside. He briefly considered pulling it away, but decided it was time he started treating her like a wife again, or at least a girlfriend. By slipping the maitre d a little something extra, Harm was able to secure a quiet table in the back near the sizzling fireplace. “This is just lovely,” Mac smiled, taking her seat. “You mentioned you liked Italian.” “I did?” “When I first got out of the hospital. The neighbors were still making suppers, Harriet asked you if a lasagna was alright and you told her you loved anything Italian.” Harm picked up his menu, pleased with the small smile that bloomed. “Good evening. My name is Drew. I’ll be your waiter this evening. May I interest you in a nice bottle of wine?” Harm looked over at the wine list, wondering if there was any point. It was unlikely he’d recognize any of them. When he looked up and saw the almost frightened look on Mac’s face, he couldn’t imagine what had happened. “I...don’t drink,” she stumbled. Harm thought about it quickly. The few times they’d gone over to the Roberts’, Bud and he had always had a beer and Harriet and Mac drank soda. Once he saw Harriet with a glass of wine, but Mac was still drinking soda. “May I get you something else?” the young man asked, not skipping a beat. “Soda with a twist, please.” “I’ll have a...” Harm hesitated a moment. “Why don’t you try a bourbon?” Mac suggested. “Okay, bourbon please, straight up.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he looked over at Mac. A small smile was tugging at one side of her mouth. “I gather that was my drink of choice?” Mac waited until the waiter had gone to get their beverages. “Sometimes. You like beer. Some wines.” “But you don’t drink?” “Not in twelve years.” Harm tilted his head. There was a story there somewhere. “I’m an alcoholic.” Mac looked him straight in the eye, much the way she had the first time she told Harm she used to drink. “You were still drinking when we first met?” he responded incredulously. That made no sense. They’d met fifteen years ago and yet she’d only been sober for twelve. There was no way she would have been a reputable attorney at JAG HQ if she’d been a boozer. “No. My Uncle Matt took me to dry out after my best friend was killed in a car accident. After that I joined the Marines. I fell off the wagon when Dalton Lowne was murdered. You made sure I got right back on again.” “That was when you were being stalked?” “How’d you know about that?” “Bud told me.” “Are you ready to order?” The young waiter interrupted, placing their drinks on the table. “I’m afraid not. Just a minute.” Looking down at his menu, Harm spoke to Mac, “Okay. Any idea what you’d like?” “I’m going to start out with the mussels marinara, and then I’ll have the shrimp scampi.” “Sounds good. I’ll have the same.” In actuality Harm wasn’t sure if he’d like any of it. He handed the waiter his menu and raised his glass. “To the most beautiful woman on the eastern seaboard.” “Only the eastern seaboard?” Mac teased. “Mom’s in San Diego. You wouldn’t want me to play favorites?” Harm grinned impishly. “Good answer,” she smiled back Harm marveled at how her eyes twinkled when her smile was sincere. He hadn’t seen that very often. He only now realized how much of a front she’d been putting on all this time. “You know, between you, and Mom, and all the videos I’ve watched, I have a pretty good idea of who Harmon Rabb Jr. is, but I still know very little about Sarah MacKenzie.” Mac’s smile turned bashful. Harm was right. She and his mom had practically force fed him every detail of his life, hoping something would be the key to unlocking his memories. “Tell me, where were you born?” And with that, Harm began filing away many of the missing pieces that made up the woman he wanted to know better. He was well aware that she was an excellent lawyer and well-respected Marine, as well as a fabulous mother and from what little he’d seen, wife. Now he was ready to find out everything there was to know about Sarah Mackenzie Rabb. Over dinner Mac told him about her family. She filled him in on the history with her mom, her dad, and the entire story of Uncle Matt and the Declaration of Independence. She told him about John Farrow and her ex-husband. As she spoke, she watched Harm’s expressions change from bewilderment, to astonishment, to occasional humor when she mentioned some of her quirks, such as often reading two or three books at a time. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately myself while you’re at the office. So far I think my favorite is a toss up between Louis L’Amour and John Grisham.” “I’m glad someone is finally reading those Louis L’Amour books. Frank sent them to you as a birthday gift years ago. He said you needed more variety in your life.” “He must have known something. I think they’re pretty entertaining.” Over dessert they debated books and authors, and enjoyed the piano player over coffee. Their coffee cold from all the conversation, Harm reached over and laid his hand gently over hers, his thumb swirling gentle caresses. “Would you care to dance?” “That would be lovely.” Still holding the hand he’d been caressing, Harm led Mac to the tiny dance floor at the foot of the baby grand piano. Pulling her casually against him, yet remaining careful not to hold her too closely, they began to gently sway to the soft music. “Did we go dancing often?” Harm asked. “Not as often as we might have liked.” Mac shifted in a little closer. “We’ll have to change that,” he smiled. “Works for me,” Mac agreed. For years, dancing at political functions had been the only way she’d gotten to bask in the feel of Harm’s embrace. She wouldn’t object to doing it again. It was better than not having him hold her at all. Humming softly, while swirling around the floor, Mac recognized the song ‘It Had To Be You' and unconsciously snuggled into Harm’s shoulder. Closing her eyes, she wandered back to another place and time. October 9, 1999 Officers Club Annapolis “It had to be you,” Harm softly sang into Mac’s ear. “I wandered around and finally found somebody who...” Dancing as closely as any two people dared in a public place, Mac could barely make her feet keep moving. The feel of Harm’s breath on her face, the sound of his voice in her ear, and the feel of his arms holding her tight were making her want to forget the reception and get started on the honeymoon. “Have I mentioned how very much I love you, Mrs. Rabb?” Harm spun her around smoothly before planting the tiniest of kisses at the edge of her jaw. “I like the sound of that: Mrs. Rabb,” she sighed softly at the thought. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it.” “Mrs. Rabb, Mrs. Rabb, Mrs. Rabb,” Harm whispered over and over in her ear. He couldn’t believe this day had finally arrived. He’d thought for sure he was going to wake up on the Patrick Henry and discover the baby deal and proposal had never happened, but it had. Every morning he woke up in DC one day closer to the wedding, and now he was finally dancing with his wife. “Do you think anyone would notice if we left early?” Mac asked breathlessly. “I’m game if you are. We’ve already cut the cake, and the merry maidens have battled for the holy bouquet. What do you say we dance towards the veranda doors and don’t stop until we reach the car?” “Sounds like a plan,” Mac smiled. Gliding casually across the floor, Harm continued singing in her ear. “It had to be you, wonderful you, it had to be you...” BACK NEXT HOME