~~~History
Lessons~~~
0850 hours
(Thursday)
For the most part
the drive into
Harm turned the
radio on and fiddled with the memory buttons distractedly before pressing scan,
unhappy with the choices. Actually, it
was less about the music and more about them, needing something to fill the
silence. He wanted to talk to her about
so much; he just didn’t know where to begin, but he knew it would eventually
center itself on yesterday’s session and the one yet to occur. Feeling like he had already played the ‘I’m
worried about you’ card one too many times in the past 12 hours, he decided to
let it be.
After allowing the
radio to briefly scan for something suitable, the strains of a familiar tune
made him quickly hit the button to stop it.
Mac watched him as he gently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and
silently mouthed the words to a song she couldn’t quite place. She wanted to ask him what it was he was
singing, but watching him lose himself in the words
and music captivated her. Whenever they
were on assignment together, he was rarely relaxed enough to pay attention to
anything but the case. This was a new
side of Harm she was seeing and she found herself liking it. She glanced over to him again, trying to
watch him without letting on what she was doing.
Within moments,
they drove up in front of a retro-looking diner, complete with neon emblazoned
sign. Harm pulled the SUV into a parking
spot near the front of the building.
Despite the weather, there was already a steady stream of customers
flowing to and from the restaurant. Mac
didn’t recognize the place. Of course,
she never had any reason to venture on this side of the river. Her restaurant jaunts were usually limited to
the area immediately surrounding her apartment or the JAG office.
“This is
interesting, Harm. Metro 29 Diner—I didn’t
even know such a place existed. It looks
like they dropped it here right out of an old movie.”
“Actually it was
dropped right here back in the 1940’s,” Harm said as he slid out of the
vehicle. He waited as Mac emerged from
the car and then clicked the alarm once she shut the door. They both strode to the steps leading up to
the front of the diner, dodging departing customers in the process. As they entered the diner, Mac’s eyes grew
wide with wonder, intrigued by the building and its nostalgic décor.
Gently resting his
hand on her shoulder, Harm moved past Mac and stepped up to the counter to ask
if there were any empty seats. The
waitress glanced briefly at a seating chart in front of her before scanning the
room for an empty booth. After noticing
one was being cleaned, she told Harm it would be a minute or two. Before long,
another waitress motioned for them to follow her and she seated them in the far
end of the diner. She placed two menus
in front of them and asked if they wanted coffee. Harm answered, “Yes” while Mac just nodded
her head, still trying to absorb the atmosphere of the place.
The hum of
conversation intermingled with the sound of clanking dishes and the sizzle of
the griddle enveloped the room. It
wasn’t an overwhelming sound, but combined with the aroma of the food, it was
just enough to make you feel warm and welcome.
The place wasn’t very big; Mac mentally figured it sat about sixty
people if you included the counter.
“How did you find
this place?” she asked, continuing to take in every inch of the place.
“Bud and I were on
our way back to JAG from interviewing a witness a few years ago. He took a wrong turn and we stumbled upon
this place. Since Bud was hungry at the
time we decided to try it.”
“And you remembered
where it was all this time?” Mac asked in amazement.
“In fact, I’ve been
coming here on and off for a while. It’s
a nice change from the usual places I eat at,” Harm said, relishing in seeing
the awe on her face as she continued to watch the hustle and bustle around
them. “It’s a nice place to get lost
in. Almost feels
like . . . “
“. . . like it takes you back to another time and place,” Mac said,
finishing his sentence. Harm smiled at
her, enjoying it when their brains were in sync like this. The shy smile on her face told him that she
appreciated the moment as much as he did.
He watched as she suddenly found the napkin on the table an interesting
distraction, folding and unfolding it while they sat in silence.
“What did Renee’
think of this place? It doesn’t seem
like her style,” Mac’s thoughts escaped her lips, causing her to regret the
question the instant she asked it. The
expression on her face abruptly changed from lighthearted to serious as she
hoped he wasn’t offended by the question.
It’s none of my business to begin with, she thought, searching for a way
out of the question that lingered in the air.
Harm answered her
in a quiet voice, “I never brought her here.”
He couldn’t quite
grasp why Mac suddenly brought Renee’ into the conversation, especially since
it had been over a year since they had gone their separate ways. The two women were hardly friends, especially
considering that Renee’ made it her mission to let Mac know Harm was her territory. He was grateful he never pushed them into
trying to be friends. Having your
girlfriend and your best friend form an alliance would be like trying to mix
oil and water—it was chemically impossible.
And in this case it would have surely been more like gasoline and a
match. At least I was using my head that
time, he thought.
Mac looked away
from the napkin in her hands right into the placid blue eyes of her best friend
across the table. To her relief, he
didn’t seem ruffled by her question.
Think before you talk next time Mackenzie, she thought to herself with a
sigh. The clank of the coffee mugs on the table as the waitress set them down
snapped them back to the present.
“Are you ready to
order?” the waitress asked, pulling out a pad and pencil from the pocket on her
uniform.
Mac had never
really looked at her menu, having been lost in her thoughts. Hurriedly she scanned the pages, trying to
decide what to order.
“Mac, what are you
going to have?” Harm asked, noticing her indecisiveness.
“Um, I’m not sure
yet,” she stammered, “Why don’t you go first?”
“Western omelet
with a side of salsa, please,” he said handing the menu back to the waitress.
Contemplating his
selection for a moment, “I’ll have the same except with a side of bacon.”
The waitress
swiftly turned and headed off to place their orders, leaving the two sitting
quietly in their booth, suddenly at a loss for words, both feeling like kids on
a first date. Noticing the mini-jukebox
that adorned the booth next to the window, Mac ran her fingers over its smooth
chrome exterior.
“I didn’t think
these existed anymore.”
“I often wondered
how many couples planned their lives here while listening to its music,” Harm
said, watching her gently turn the wheel to flip through the pages of songs.
“Just imagine the
stories this jukebox could tell,” Mac added wistfully.
Harm reached into
his pocket and slid two quarters across the table to her. Mac looked at him quizzically before a smile
formed on her lips. She dropped the
money in the slot and pushed the random select button. Soon the strains of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’
Feelin’” were coming over the jukebox’s speakers. Harm and Mac at first looked at each other
uncomfortably. Then almost
instantaneously, they both said, “Top Gun,” before bursting out laughing at
their timing.
As they awaited
their food, Harm filled her in on the history of the diner dating back to
post-World War II Washington. Intrigued
by his knowledge of the diner, Mac sat there completely engrossed in the
history lesson. Once their breakfast
arrived, they ate silently, content to enjoy the meal and each others company,
pushing any thoughts of their impending session far from their minds.
1055 hours
Harm and Mac pulled
up in front of Maddie’s building. After
the initial tension over the Renee’ question, their breakfast had turned into a
leisurely, enjoyable meal. Getting
caught up in the nostalgic feel of the diner, they had managed to put all
things past and present behind them. Mac
sighed as Harm parked the SUV and turned off the ignition.
Glancing over in
her direction he asked, “You alright?”
“Yeah, I guess,”
she said, pausing. “You’d think I’d be
used to coming here by now. But every
time I come here, I get butterflies in my stomach.”
“If you’d rather
not do this today, I’m sure Maddie will understand,” Harm said, turning his
whole body in the seat of his Lexus to look at her. He could see just a hint of tension in the
muscles of her neck, radiating down her arms to the hands that were playing
with the strap from her purse. Seeing
how the emotion of it all was taking a toll her body and spirit, he wished he
could just take her away from it all.
But, if wishes were dimes, I’d be a rich man, he thought. Instead, he placed his hand over hers to calm
them, backing the gesture up with a smile he hoped would put her at ease.
Mac glanced down at
the warm hand covering hers. Instead of
pulling away, she moved her hand to squeeze his, acknowledging his concern
without any encumbered words.
Unwillingly breaking the spell that was momentarily cast over them, she
quietly said, “Let’s go,” before exiting the vehicle.
Side by side they
strode across the street and entered the building, beginning their ascent to
Maddie’s office. Mac was a step or two
ahead of Harm as she reached the second floor landing. Opening the door, she hesitated slightly
before walking past the spot in the hallway where Harm had held her as she
cried last night. Recalling her anguish, Mac steeled herself, resolving to be
stronger and needing to put the past where it belonged. Harm saw Mac’s steps waver slightly and knew
what was going through her mind. As
difficult as it seemed for Mac, Harm had found it twice as arduous. Unable to physically help her made him feel
powerless. I guess even Superman had his
weaknesses, he thought.
Reaching the office
door, Harm stepped slightly in front of Mac and opened it for her. Wordlessly she looked at him, acknowledging
his presence with a slight smile before stepping inside. Each of them prepared to deal with the
unknown in their own way.
Five minutes
earlier
Maddie’s Office
Checking the time,
Maddie hurriedly took a gulp of her diet soda and ate the last spoonful of the
yogurt she had brought with her from home.
The yogurt was the quickest thing she could grab before heading out the
door since breakfast wasn’t what she had anticipated. Making what she thought were a few phone
calls to rearrange appointments had become a game of telephone tag with her
clients, leaving little time for anything else.
Only a few took the advantage of changing their appointments to today;
the rest were only too willing to reschedule for next week, thus making the day
a light one for her after all.
The fire in the
hearth crackled and snapped in the silence of the office. When Maddie had arrived earlier, a damp chill
had greeted her. Even though her first
client had already arrived, she made starting the fire her first order of
business, delighting Zolly. Once the
warmth was radiating from the fireplace, he quickly moved to his spot on the
rug, snuggling in for a mid-day nap.
Without even
checking her appointment book Maddie knew that Harm and Mac were her next
clients. She tidied up her desk, before
pulling the ‘Mackenzie/Rabb’ file out of the drawer. Briefly scanning her notes from their
previous sessions, she knew they still had a lot of old baggage to sort
through. It was a necessary evil, but
one that would have to be handled with a painstaking yet gentle touch.
Maddie had been
looking forward to this session since she hung up with Mac earlier this
morning. Just knowing that they were at
least spending some time together was enough to make her happy. Besides, I’d like to hear the story behind
their breakfast date too, she thought, before quickly dispelling her
curiosity. It was getting increasingly
difficult for her to walk the fine line of ‘counselor’—wanting to keep it
professional without getting personal, yet being personal enough without
seeming apathetic. Maddie sighed and
rubbed her temples. She couldn’t
remember the last time she got so attached to a client before. At any rate, it was time to put her personal
feelings aside and be the counselor they needed her to be.
Hearing the click
of the outer office door, Maddie knew that her next “couple” had arrived. She listened for muffled conversation but
didn’t hear any. Worry creased her
forehead as she wondered for a moment if it were Harm and Mac who arrived or if
it was just the mailman. Of course, she
realized, she could end all this mystery by just opening the door to
check. But, this would also put them “on
the clock” so to speak, and Maddie truly didn’t want to rush them today. Before getting up from her desk, she checked
the time for her next appointment—
Maddie walked over
to the door connecting the two rooms, gingerly cracking it open a bit to peer
inside. Harm was seated on the leather
chair next to the bookshelf, leaning forward resting his elbows on parted knees—watching
Mac who sat quietly on the loveseat, thumbing through the latest issue of
Southern Living magazine that Maddie had left there this morning. Both seemed to be reacting differently to
today’s session. Harm seemed relaxed,
yet concerned about Mac. Mac appeared to be distracted as she turned the pages
of the magazine without really looking at its contents.
Maddie felt a
twinge of guilt about delving so deeply into Mac’s relationship with her father
yesterday. It obviously had taken some
toll on her, seeing the tension in her posture and mannerisms. She watched her close the magazine and toss it on the coffee table, breaking the trance that Harm
had fallen into. Time
to get this show on the road, Maddie thought. She straightened herself and opened the door,
propelling them into yet another chapter of their lives.
The creaking of the
old brass hinges on the door announced Maddie’s arrival to Harm and Mac,
startling them a little. Harm stood
immediately to greet Maddie, who waved off the formality and sat down next to
Mac on the loveseat. Seeing the
apprehension written on her face, Maddie took a mental step back. Many years of counseling had given her the
ability to read her clients’ minds based on their non-verbal
communications—their posture, their eyes, the expressions on their face—Mac was
no different.
With every passing
session, Maddie was finding it increasingly difficult to be the neutral
party. It was almost as if she was
counseling her friends even though she’d only known them a little over a
week. Upon seeing Mac’s obvious
distress, Maddie’s first instinct was to console her just as she would do for
her sister. However, being a medical
professional, it was considered crossing the line. Lord knows I don’t want to do something
unethical, she thought, scolding herself silently.
“Hi,” Maddie said
soothingly, “Good to see you both. I appreciate your coming on such short
notice.” She was sincerely doing her
best to keep the tone of her voice even and her own trepidation below the
surface. She was as nervous for this
session as they were, except right now Mac looked as though life itself was
draining right out of her. The last
thing Maddie wanted to do was add more tension to the already taut strings
holding Mac together. If Mac unwound,
Harm would surely follow.
Mac’s heart was
doing double-time right now. She felt
like she was still caught in her earlier nightmare—pulse racing, palms
sweaty. God, get a grip Marine. This
person isn’t your enemy—she’s here to help you get your act together. Swallowing hard she gave a half smile and
said, “It wasn’t a problem,” hoping Maddie couldn’t see through the façade she
was presenting. For as much as she tried to hide her fear, she unknowingly wore
it like the red cloak of a bull fighter—it was out there taunting
Maddie—begging her to find a way to fix things.
I can get through this, Mac thought, taking a deep breath.
Harm shoved his
hands inside the pockets of his jacket and gave a quick shrug of his shoulders
adding, “Not at all,” to the end of Mac’s statement. Watching her made him feel ill at ease. Even though her mouth was saying one thing,
she was surely feeling something else.
Her apprehension was practically palpable. If given an option right now,
he’d put an end to this therapy crap.
The more they came, the deeper they were being sucked into the vast
vacuum of their past. Up until now, he
had thought they were just normal people with normal problems; now he wasn’t so
sure. But before he could get any sort
of protest out of his mouth, Maddie was speaking to the both of them again.
“Why don’t we move
into the other room and get started?” Maddie said, standing up and turning
toward the office. She hoped that when
she got to the office they would still be following her and not running
screaming from the room.
Mac’s heart skipped
a beat at Maddie’s words. It was as if
the roller-coaster from hell was climbing the hill and she was again the
reluctant passenger along for the ride.
Harm watched as she balked a little before standing up. He waited until she rose from the loveseat
before falling into place behind her. He
grasped her shoulder and leaned in to whisper into her ear, “It’s going to be fine,
Mac,” and gave her a little squeeze. He
wished he could believe in his heart that it all would be fine. Right now the only thing he could do was try
to protect her as the demons of the past were again summoned from the beyond.
“Yeah, it will,”
Mac replied, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder and trying to sound
convincing in the process. She prayed he
couldn’t feel her pulse in that grasp of his, otherwise he’d have a good excuse
to haul her ass off to a hospital somewhere—maybe a padded one with Laura
Ashley drapes and bedding.
Maddie was already
in her spot on the leather chair when the two officers entered the room. Sighing, she was relieved to see that she
hadn’t scared them off—yet. The
two—being creatures of habit—moved to their usual spots on the couch after
removing their jackets. Harm offered to hang up Mac’s coat, but she shook her
head, opting to hang on to it.
Mac immediately
noticed the furry form of Zoloft curled up on the rug in front of the
fireplace. Fighting off the urge to
crawl on the floor next to him, she opted to call to him instead. A soft “psst-psst-psst” in his direction was
enough to rouse him from the sleep he had settled into. Zolly yawned and stretched out his paws
before turning his head in the direction of the sound. Recognizing a warm lap when he saw
one—especially Mac’s warm lap—he trotted across the floor and promptly leapt
into her waiting arms.
Aw, nothing like a
little feline-therapy to soothe the patient’s soul, Maddie thought, smiling as
she watched Mac find her comfort zone with the affections of a certain Maine
Coon. Even though it was often tiring
bringing the 15 pound cat to and from work most days, Zolly had unknowingly
become part of the therapy process with Mac.
Not everyone responds to pet therapy, especially cats. But with Mac, Zolly had become a security object
she could cling to during the stressful aspects of their sessions.
Opening their chart
on her lap Maddie adjusted her glasses and perused her notes for probably the
hundredth time, knowing what she had written on those papers by heart. The only problem she had at the moment was
deciding how to carefully begin this session without sounding like an
incompetent jerk or an overprotective den mother. Deciding to jump in with both feet, fuzzy
slippers and all, she took a breath and began.
“Mac, yesterday’s
session took us back to your father and your past relationships with men. It must have been hard for you to revisit
those years. Tell me how you feel
today.”
Mac glanced over
toward Harm first, hesitating. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure how she felt
other than her stomach was in knots right now.
She had felt better when she got up earlier this morning, but the
thought of rehashing everything was now making her nauseous. Mac knew it was
probably in her best interest to tell Maddie about the nightmare, but there
were parts of that nightmare that involved Harm—and she wasn’t sure if she was
ready to tell him about it just yet—some day—just not now.
Maddie sensed that
something was keeping Mac from talking about what occurred after the session
yesterday, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it might be. Whatever took place, she obviously either
hadn’t told Harm or was purposefully vague considering the look they shared,
Maddie thought. Contemplating the issue
for a moment, she came up with an option she hoped the two would agree upon.
“If you’d feel more
comfortable talking to me without Harm present, Mac, that’s okay. But, before you do that, Harm has to agree to
it.”
Alternating glances
between Harm and Maddie, Mac felt torn.
Dare she sit with Maddie alone and tell her about the nightmare or
should she just bury it like everything else and go on with the session?
Harm looked shocked
at Maddie’s suggestion. It almost
angered him that he wouldn’t be included in this discussion. It wasn’t that he was nosy; he just didn’t
want Mac to go through hell again today as she did yesterday. He wasn’t so sure a one-on-one with Maddie
was in her best interest right now. Every
time a new ghost resurrected, he felt helpless watching them torment Mac. Now Maddie wanted to do this without him
there!
“Mac, you don’t
have to do this. I can stay if you want
me to,” Harm offered in protest, annoyance tinting his voice. He really wanted to ask Maddie what kind of
quack she was to keep torturing a woman clearly distraught every time her past
reared its ugly head.
“Harm, the point of
having Mac talk to me alone is not to exclude you. It’s to give her a chance to say things to
me—personal things—that she might not want you or anyone else to know just yet. It shouldn’t take long.”
Maddie figured out
that he was just trying to shield Mac from any more pain and for that, she
mentally commended him. Despite the fact that they couldn’t get their act
together, the undying loyalty between the two was paramount. Just as she
considered explaining to Harm that the emotional pain brought about from
discovery was part of the healing process, Mac spoke up.
“It’s
okay, Harm. You don’t have to protect me
from Maddie—I know she’s trying to help me.”
Mac paused for a moment, not sure how to address this with Harm without
hurting his feelings. She then added, “But, there are some things I’d like to
say to her privately.”
“Are you sure?” he
asked hesitantly. He wasn’t convinced it
was the right idea, but if Mac was okay with it, then he would have to be okay
with it too. Let her go, Rabb. We have to get through this.
Before he could say
anything, Mac was reaching over and taking his hand. The pleading look in her eyes snapped him
back to rationality—a subtle gesture asking him to trust her. Trust—that’s part
of the reason we’re here in the first place.
Getting it back had to start somewhere with someone, he thought.
Taking a deep
breath, Harm said, “Mac, if you want to talk to Maddie alone, go ahead. I don’t mind.”
Mac smiled softly
and squeezed his hand for extra measure.
She silently mouthed, “thank you” before turning to look at Maddie,
ready to put the past where it belonged—in the past.
Harm stood and
reluctantly prepared to leave the room, glancing at Mac before he stepped away
from the sofa. He had wanted to say something—anything—to her at that moment to
comfort her, but he just didn’t know what to say. He hoped Mac understood that his
unwillingness to leave had nothing to do with what she was going to talk to
Maddie about, but everything to do with her and how this would affect her
life. Rather than say something that
would be misconstrued, he bit his lower lip and said, “I’ll be waiting”. He strode out the door, casting one final
glance over his shoulder before gently pushing it closed behind him.
“Thanks Harm. I’ll call you in when we’re done,” Maddie
called after him, as he walked into the outer office.
Once in the other
room, Harm couldn’t do anything but pace.
He ran his hands through his hair distractedly, hoping this wasn’t going
to be a repeat of the last session. It
tore at his very soul last night as he felt her body wracked with sobs, her
past having chewed her up and spit her out yet again. The more he thought about it, the more he had
to stifle his anger for her sake. He
wanted so much to call the Admiral and give him hell, career be damned. But he knew that it would only embarrass Mac
and put her in an uncomfortable position with her superior officer. Keep your opinions to yourself, Rabb, he told
himself, flopping down on the loveseat. He picked up the Southern Living magazine Mac
had been thumbing through earlier, flipping through a few pages before tossing
it back where he got it. Sighing loudly,
he slumped against the cushions. This is
emotional hell, he thought, scrubbing his hands over his face in
frustration. If this becomes anything
like yesterday, we’re done—I don’t care what anyone has to say. I can’t let her go through this anymore.
****
Maddie briefly
watched Mac sitting alone on the sofa, her face still pale and her hands
slightly trembling. Had she been a regular patient in for the long haul, Maddie
probably wouldn’t have pushed her to divulge her feelings so soon. But considering that she had only a short
time to work with them before their leave was up, she had no other alternative
than try to get them to a resolution point—sooner than later. Moving over to the sofa, Maddie gestured for
permission to sit next to her, “May I?”
Mac nodded her head
without looking in her direction.
“Tell me what
happened last night after the session,” Maddie asked calmly.
Drawing an uneasy
breath, Mac blew it out with a huff before speaking. “I, um, well . . . things sort of got to me
yesterday.”
“In
what way?”
“It had been a long
time since I had to deal with my father.
It was like I was living my teenage years all over again,” Mac said,
continuing to stroke the soft, thick fur on Zolly’s back. She couldn’t make eye contact with
Maddie. It wasn’t that she was
embarrassed about anything. It was just
that Maddie was pretty good at reading her and she wasn’t quite ready to be
that revealing.
“Tell me what
happened,” Maddie reiterated, getting a sick feeling all of a sudden in the pit
of her stomach. It was not uncommon for clients to react emotionally to things
revealed in their sessions. However, she
couldn’t help but feel somehow responsible for the emotional pain Mac was going
through right now. She had figured her
to be a strong woman yet she still prayed that Mac’s past as an alcoholic
didn’t come to light again, especially after yesterday.
“When we left the
office, my emotions took over and I cried—really cried—for the first time in a
very long time,” Mac paused to take a deep breath and control her racing
heart. “I’m not used to feeling this emotionally
weak,” she nervously snickered, pausing to dab at the corner of her eye with
her finger to prevent the tears welling up from spilling over. “I was so drained that Harm had to drive me
home.”
“You’re not weak,
Mac. You had been through a lot
yesterday. It’s only natural for your
body and mind to give in to the exhaustion you were feeling.” Maddie paused to allow Mac to take in what
she was saying.
“What happened once
you got home?” Maddie asked quietly, not sure it was something she wanted to
hear. She didn’t want to come right out
and ask if she had taken a drink—although she should—but rather Maddie wanted
Mac to feel that she could confide in her without feeling pressured to do
so.
Mac began to see the
bigger picture behind Maddie’s question—she’s wondering if I took a drink, she
thought to herself. It’s a legitimate
concern considering what I had told her about my past.
“I didn’t have any
alcohol, Maddie, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mac said, “I think I’m strong
enough to resist that. I’ve had plenty
of reason to turn to the bottle other times—like when Mic left. But I didn’t.
I’ve come too far in my life to ruin it like that.”
“I know Mac, but as
your counselor I was just concerned.”
“Thanks—I know,”
Mac said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I must have fallen asleep on
the couch when Harm went to make me some tea. The next thing I knew I was in
bed and in this nightmare—it was like the worst parts of my life were happening
all over again.
“What did you dream
about?”
“My father,
Maddie immediately
noticed Mac’s glance toward the door when she said ‘Harm’. There is more to this than just a nightmare,
Maddie thought. Trying to find the best
way to extract information from her, Maddie found herself saying, “Tell me how
the dream made you feel.”
“I felt scared, out
of control and . . . lost. What you said about unconditional love really
got to me. I don’t feel that anyone has ever loved me for me. Maybe some sick, bizarre
attachment but not love.”
“Do you think that
you truly loved any of them?” Maddie asked tentatively, not
quite sure where her question would lead.
Mac thought about
this for a moment. It’s not as if she’d
never been at this crossroad before—she had been. This was different. This was acknowledging feelings or maybe the
lack thereof. Feeling a little
uncomfortable, she shifted her weight in the sofa, disturbing the cat on her
lap. When Zoloft looked up to see what
the disturbance was, Mac cupped his bewhiskered face and brought hers close to
his nose. It’s now or never, Marine, she whispered quietly to herself and Zolly, out of
Maddie’s earshot.
“Any
of them? Yes,” Mac said with a heavy sigh, “But not
all of them.” She had known it would
come down to this at some point. She
just never thought she’d have to say it aloud for someone else to hear. Maybe getting it all off my chest will be for
the best, Mac thought. I just have to
get past this.
“Chris was
obviously a mistake. What I felt for him
wasn’t love—I don’t know what you’d call it but it wasn’t love. And
“What about Mic?”
Maddie asked.
Mac knew that was
coming. She couldn’t talk about her past
without bringing him into it. Truly,
being with Mic was the pivotal point in her life. He had called things as he had seen
them—especially when it came to her and Harm.
Try as she may to persuade him they were only friends, she was sure he’d
seen something more—real or perceived.
“Did I love
him? Maybe. To be totally honest with you, I’m not so
sure now.” Mac couldn’t help but remember a night when Harm posed a similar
question to her—one she never answered.
Do you love him?
That's not a question you get to ask.
Then who does get
to ask this question? Maybe it’s
something I should have asked myself then.
Harm knew what he was asking.
Maybe it was all too obvious how I really felt. Too many questions were dancing in her head
right now.
Mac, I'm sorry. I was outta line.
Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness.
Whatever you and Brumby have between you,
that's uh. . . that's your business.
Whatever's between us? I'm marrying the
guy. What do you think is between us?
Mac sat quietly
next to Maddie, her mind replaying her life like someone hammering on the
rewind button of a poorly directed movie.
Why couldn’t she flat out tell Harm that she loved Mic—was it because
she didn’t or couldn’t? Whatever she
based her relationship with him on, would it have been enough to sustain her
for the rest of their lives?
“I guess I’ll never
know,” Mac stated out loud, responding to the questions she was posing to
herself in her head.
Confused, Maddie
asked, “Know what, Mac?”
Realizing she had
said aloud what she was thinking, Mac snapped a surprised look in Maddie’s
direction.
“You seemed to
drift off in thought for a while. What
were you thinking about?” Maddie queried.
She surmised that the lingering question of did she love Mic was
dominating her thoughts at the moment.
Rather than push her to answer, Maddie allowed Mac to put her thoughts
into perspective first in the silence that surrounded them.
Mac sat there
absentmindedly playing with Zolly’s collar, making the little bell tinkle
softly. Getting all this all out in the
open sounded like a good idea to begin with, but opening her mouth to say it
all was taking a lot more effort.
Deciding that she could think better if she got up and walked around,
Mac stood up, placing Zoloft on the floor, much to his dismay. She brushed some of the cat hair from her
shirt and watched as the disgruntled feline went back to his original napping
spot on the rug. Walking over to
Maddie’s desk, she ran her hand over the wood, relishing its coolness against
her skin before turning to face her counselor.
“I was thinking
about Mic—if I loved him. Harm asked me
the same question the night of my engagement party and I never really answered
him. I did love Mic—but I wasn’t in love with him. I know now that the love I had for him would
never have been enough to last a lifetime.”
Mac paused for a moment. Having said it made it real for her. She fingered the bare spot on her left hand,
feeling somewhat relieved that Mic had taken the decision out of her hands by
getting on that plane.
“For a long time I
had blamed Mic for leaving. I had told
Harm he was leaving because he couldn’t get past whatever was between us and
that Mic didn’t believe I loved him. I
wanted him—expected him—to understand and accept my relationship with Harm. Mic knew it would never have worked. But was it because I didn’t love him
enough? Or was it because of my
relationship with Harm?” Mac sighed and
walked back across the room to Maddie’s leather chair and sat down, looking to
Maddie for her approval or disapproval or some sort of acknowledgement.
Maddie didn’t move
from the sofa, trying to absorb all that Mac was saying to her. It seemed the underlying note to Mac’s failed
relationship with Mic was Harm. She
remembered them telling her that they were never a couple. From that fact, she could safely conclude
that Mac didn’t cheat on Mic with Harm—physically. It seemed their emotional attachment to one
another had played as big a factor then as it is today. Well, now’s a good a time as any to broach
that subject, Maddie thought.
“How do you feel
about Harm?” Maddie asked softly. Mac
was finally being honest about why her relationship with Mic failed, now she
needed her to be honest about her relationship with Harm.
Mac gave a nervous
laugh, “There are a lot of things I feel about him.”
“Such as . . .”
Maddie pressed gently.
“It’s complicated .
. .” Mac replied. She stood up from the
leather chair and began to pace the room again, attempting to channel her
energy into something, otherwise she’d chew every nail
off her fingers right now.
“In
what way?” Maddie felt
like this was the twenty questions game all over again. She must be one helluva lawyer; she is
certainly making me work for my information.
Mac came to a halt
by Maddie’s desk and stood there looking toward the door to the room where Harm
was waiting. She wanted to just spill it
all and tell Maddie everything. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if Harm
was standing with his ear pressed to the door, dying to find out what was going
on.
“If you’d rather
not tell me, I understand.” Or at least I’ll try to, Maddie thought. Despite her own frustration, she knew this
all had to be hard for Mac. Keeping
emotions buried for so long makes it hard to acknowledge them even though they
were there all along.
“It’s not that I
don’t want to tell you, it’s just difficult.
Saying it puts it out there—although it’s not like I haven’t done that
before,” Mac said. That day she had admitted
it, albeit unwillingly, was clear as a bell in her mind. Thankfully, Sturgis kept his part of the
bargain and never divulged her little revelation to anyone—at least none that
she was aware of. Of course, the threat
of pain and suffering usually is the key in helping someone keep a secret.
“Said what, Mac?”
“Said
I love him.” Mac
chuckled a little. So this makes two
people that know now, she thought.
“What did he say?”
Maddie was now on the edge of her seat, eager to know how Harm responded.
“I didn’t say it to
him. I accidentally told Sturgis several
months ago. He kept pressing me about
the tension between Harm and me . . . and I just sort of . . . said it.”
“How do you feel
about him now?” This was the million dollar question as far as Maddie was
concerned. Although she had a fairly
good idea what Mac was going to say, she still needed to have her say it and
Maddie needed to hear it—mostly for her own sanity.
Mac looked at
Maddie and then went back over to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Once again, her heart was pounding in her
chest. She leaned forward and buried her
hands in her face for a moment before taking a deep breath. Turning to Maddie, her eyes were moist with
tears.
“I’m in love with
him,” she whispered softly, trying to choke back her tears. Those five words were laden with emotion;
pouring her heart into each one of them.
She wished it were Harm she was saying it to, but she was too damned
scared to do it. It could change
everything, yet change nothing. Mac
sighed, wiping a tear that had broken through the barriers of her lashes,
chasing it from her cheek. She smiled a
little at Maddie and shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m pretty screwed
up, aren’t I?”
Maddie couldn’t
help but laugh a little. “Nope, you’re
just like the rest of us women, driven insane over the love of a man.”
“Now
what?” Mac asked,
wondering what the next step was. The unknown loomed ahead of her, frightening
her just a little. Having admitted to
herself and to Maddie that she loved Harm was at least putting her on the right
path. Her only obstacle was Harm—where
did his feelings fit into the puzzle that was her life?
“That’s up to you,
Mac. From my perspective, there is still
a lot of baggage between you two. Not
just your past relationships with men, but his past
relationships with women as well. We can
do one of two things—we can call it a day or we can bring Harm back in and pick
up where we left off earlier, before we had our private conversation.”
Mac thought about
it for a moment then decided, “Let’s finish our session—with Harm.”
****
A few minutes
earlier
Maddie’s Waiting
Room
Harm was getting
tired of pacing the rug in Maddie’s waiting room. He had tried reading through some of the
magazines arranged neatly on the coffee table.
Now they were nothing but a jumbled mess, Harm having gone through them
desperately looking for something to read to take his mind off Mac and what was
going on behind that damn closed door.
The Southern Living he tolerated, but Woman’s Day, Martha Stewart Living
and Cosmo put him right over the edge.
The hormones in those magazines were enough to give him bodily pains he
would rather not experience.
Checking his watch,
yet again, he decided to give them five—FIVE—more minutes and then he was
busting down the door and extracting her from Maddie’s interrogation. They had already been in there somewhere in
the vicinity of fifteen minutes, give or take a few. Hell, I’m sure Mac could tell me right down
to the second how long they were in there.
Harm ran his fingers through his hair and debated sitting down
again. Sure, the loveseat was nice
looking, but it nowhere near accommodated his long legs. And the leather chair made him sweat. He felt like he was Goldilocks—nothing was
just right for him at this moment. The
only thing that would make him happy was if that door would fling open and they
would call him back into that room.
He walked over to
the bookcase and glanced over the shelves with its perfectly arranged
books. I probably could find something
there to read, but if I have to start reading a novel, that means they have
been in there too long. Harm checked his
watch one more time—a minute later than the last time he looked at it. What could be taking this long? There has to be more than the nightmare on
Maddie’s agenda. I could try putting my
ear to the door, as they do in those spy movies—not that something like that
would work—but would it, he mused.
Just as Harm
contemplated his next move, the door to the inner office creaked
open, startling him enough to get his pulse racing. Almost immediately, Maddie appeared in the
doorway and announced, “We’re ready for you Harm,” with a smile and motioning
for him to follow her. Harm gulped. He wanted to run right into that room to make
sure Mac was alright, but his feet remained mired on the carpet, bound by the
fear of what was coming next. Putting
Mac in the forefront of his thoughts got his feet moving, although he had to
keep his stride checked up enough so it didn’t appear he was at a full run. He hesitated as he reached the threshold of
the room, peering inside to see what lie ahead of him.
****
Mac remained seated
on the sofa while Maddie went to retrieve Harm from the other room. Although her discussion with Maddie had gone
well, by her standards, she still was nervous about Harm coming back into the
room. Silently she hoped that those five
words, ‘I’m in love with him’, weren’t lingering in the room somewhere waiting
for the opportunity to bounce off the walls like an echo. Sure, she knew she needed to tell him—to be
honest with him about how she felt. “But
there is no way in hell that is going to happen here—in front of Maddie,” she
muttered to herself. Those were her
feelings—feelings that her heart had kept secret for too long. She would tell Harm, but only when the time
was right. And she would only tell him
when it was just the two of them—no audience, no interruptions.
Right after Maddie
announced to Harm that he could come back into the
room, Mac heard his footsteps cross the hardwood floor by the door and onto the
area rug under the sofa. Before she
could even look in his direction, he squatted down alongside the couch, face to
face, his blue eyes locked with hers.
“Are you alright?”
he asked gently, scanning her face for tear stains or anything that would
indicate she was upset by the whole situation.
He couldn’t stand it if she was put through hell again today.
“I’m fine, Harm,”
Mac replied with a small smile, happy to see that handsome face of his
again.
Still in protective
mode, Harm felt the need to verify that what he was hearing was true and
honest, “Are you sure?”
“Harm . . .” Maddie
began before he cut her off with an irritated look.
“If you don’t mind,
Maddie, I’d like to hear it from Mac . . . please,” Harm said pointedly. The ‘please’ was an afterthought—being
impolite was just plain rude.
“Harm, really, I am
fine—see, no scars,” Mac said, holding out her hands for him to examine. He took her left hand and rubbed it between
his large hands, grateful that she was all in one piece. Not that Maddie would have physically harmed
her; he just needed to feel her warmth to know that she was indeed okay.
Satisfied that Mac
had survived Maddie’s grilling, he stood up and took his place on the sofa,
this time sitting a little closer to her than to the armrest. Judging from the clock on the mantle, Harm
figured they had at least a good 40 minutes left in their hour. Plenty of time to let Maddie have a piece of
my mind, he thought.
Sitting across from
the duo, Maddie absorbed the whole scene as it played out between the two—the
knight in shining armor defending his fair maiden from the evil sorceress. I guess that makes me the evil sorceress, she
thought with a restrained snicker. And I’m
sure the fair maiden could kick his ass if given the opportunity. These two are
something else. She loves him, he
obviously loves her—just give me the room and the key
right now—I’ll make sure they don’t come out until they’ve, um, communicated,
Maddie mused.
The blank stares
from her clients made her realize she had lingered a bit too long in
dreamland. She adjusted herself in the
leather chair and cleared her throat, shuffling the papers of their file for
good measure. Maddie hoped her cheeks
weren’t too flushed from her thoughts—that would certainly be embarrassing!
“So, why don’t we
continue,” she said with authority. Most
of the pieces to their puzzle were falling into place. The largest piece loomed in front of her in
the form of one Harmon Rabb Jr.
“Harm, let’s talk
about your past relationships with women, shall we?”
Maddie’s statement
caught Harm off guard, in mid-swallow of his water. He choked it down as quickly as possible to
prevent spewing it across the room.
The sight of Harm,
in the inevitable hot seat, had Mac trying to suppress her laughter as it threatened
to bubble over. Sure, she sympathized
with him, having been put through the proverbial wringer herself. However,
watching Harm squirm while Maddie grilled him could be amusing to some extent.
Harm never did handle stressful encounters very well, she thought, recalling
all the times the Admiral chewed his butt for whatever reason. But this—the Video Princess Diaries—would
definitely have him running for cover.
I should have brought the popcorn for this one, she mused with a giggle,
subtly covering her mouth with her hand.
This could get very interesting.