When A Child Is Born
Author:
Doc
Prompt #3: Watch out for the red car.
Word
Count: 4062
Category: Family, Humor
Rating:
Appropriate for everyone.
A/N: This story is the third,
and final piece, to my Christmas Ficathon trilogy. The first two
stories were entitled ‘In the Bleak Midwinter,’ and ‘Lo
How a Rose E’er Blooming’. This fortune cookie prompt was
a little more difficult, so I threw in the HBX December challenge
lines and came up with this bit of fun and whimsy.
Summary:
The first story took place in Season 9 during the episode ‘A
Merry Little Christmas’, and found Harm and Mac at odds after
he uttered the words, “Forget about it! It’s too
important for you to screw up.” Mac, in an attempt to mend the
riff, chased after Harm only to be involved in a serious car
accident. The first story ends with Harm and Mac engaged, but
unforeseen complications result in a medical catastrophe.
The
second story picks up a year later at Christmastime. Harm and Mac are
now married and learn they are about to experience the best Christmas
gift of all…a child.
And the tale continues…
Disclaimer: I don’t own JAG or any of the
characters. The title for this story comes from a song by the same
name. ‘When A Child Is Born’ (Soleado) was written by
Fred Jay, and the melody composed by Ciro Dammico, alias Zacar. While
not originally written as a Christmas carol, over the years since its
debut, it has become a favorite song for the holiday
season.
***
17:40
Early December
2005
The Rabb Household
Mac slipped the key into the lock
and turned the handle of the front door. Slipping inside, she dropped
her briefcase on the floor, and placed her purse on the front hall
table along with her damp cover. Stomping the snow off her shoes, she
toed them off on the rug beside the front door. She was just about to
hang up her coat when conspiring voices from the living room caught
her ear.
“Now Maggie, proper young ladies don’t
chew on their toes!”
She quietly crept past the stairs,
dropping her coat on the ladder-back chair along the way, and
stealthily tiptoed to the living room entrance. Peaking around the
corner she spied her husband and four-month old daughter playing on
the floor. Unable to suppress a giggle, she ducked back into the hall
and hovered just outside the doorframe, covertly listening to the
duet’s private conversation about deportment and
etiquette.
“We’ve discussed this before,
MagPie…only Daddy’s allowed to nibble on your
toes.”
Mac slapped a hand over her mouth trying to
contain her rumbling laughter. The sound of noisy raspberries and
Daddy kisses being blown on soft baby skin could be heard resonating
all the way into the hall. The thunderous volume of the oral attack
was only marginally eclipsed by the ear-piercing shrieks of her
daughter’s high-pitched squeals of delight. Unable to withstand
the lure of temptation posed by the impromptu father-baby confab, she
stepped past the doorframe and stole into a far corner of the room.
Hovering just out of sight, she merrily observed the pair.
“Okay,
enough with the fun, young lady,” Harm sat his daughter up on
his bent knees and stared into her eyes, daughter-to-dad. “You
and I need to have a serious discussion about social norms,
expectations and goals.”
Maggie reached out a soggy hand
and grabbed her daddy’s nose. “Missth Maggie, you’re
justh not…” The baby laughed at her father’s
nasally tone of voice, and Mac chomped down on her lip to prevent
joining in the fun. Harm gently pried his daughter’s death grip
from his beak, and swiped away the baby drool and formula slobber
slowly trickling down his cheek.
Placing his daughter an arm’s
length away, he continued, “As I was saying, it’s never
to early to set goals and expectations. The first objective on the
list has got to be…no sucking on toes, fingers or any other
appendage, whether attached to your own cute little self, or someone
else.” The baby smiled and a line of drool beaded and dribbled
from her bow-shaped bottom lip onto her daddy’s nice clean
jeans.
“That’s another thing,
Maggie-Doodle…successful woman don’t drool!” He
wiped away the mountainous bubble forming on her lips just before it
could pop.
Shaking his head, he clucked his tongue in a
‘tsk-tsking’ fashion, “Now see…that’s
just what Daddy’s talking about. How often do you see Mommy
blowing slobber bubbles like that?!”
Maggie’s only
response was to blow a raspberry reply around her now shiny wet
thumb. Harm grabbed the burp cloth off his left shoulder and gently
dabbed at his daughter’s face.
“Sweetie, if you
wanna grow-up to be successful like your mommy, there’s a few
rules you need to understand.” He studied his daughter with a
discerning eye, “You do wanna grow up to be like your mama,
don’cha Maggie?”
The baby smiled, all the while
kicking her feet, arms and legs flying in a wild frenzy. “That’s
what I thought!” he nodded in mock approval.
“Ya
know, your mom’s a very special lady, and we’re really
lucky to have her in our lives. There was a time, a couple years
back, when I thought I might loooose heeeer…” his voice
cracked, and he swallowed hard to clear the overwhelming emotions
evoked by the memory.
“Anyway, we’ll talk about
that sometime in the future, when you’re a bit older,” he
stroked a finger through his daughter’s dark hair, marveling at
just how much she resembled Mac.
“Now, where was I? Oh
yeah…your mom! The thing is, Maggie…your mommy, she’s
a good-looking woman. Stunningly beautiful, actually. I still can’t
believe she took a liking to a swabbie like me. You see, she’s
a marine…and marines and sailors don’t always get along.
In fact, the first time Mommy and me worked a case together…she
pulled a gun on your daddy. Now, in all honesty, she was just trying
to rescue your Great Uncle Matt…but still, she impressed the
hell-lllo…um heck, I mean heck…outta me. I’d
never met a woman who was so tough and strong. Did I mention she
pulled Daddy into a helicopter? Of course, she wouldn’t have
had to, if Daddy hadn’t been dangling off the side.”
He
looked down to find his daughter listening to him with rapt
attention, eyes bulging wide. “By the way,” he shook a
finger in her direction, “…you’re not allowed to
do that…dangle off helicopters that is! No Special Forces for
you!” Maggie gurgled and cooed her objection.
“Noooo,
I don’t care what you say…Daddy’s being quite
serious here. I know girls can do anything boys can do…but NO
SPECIAL FORCES!” Maggie laughed at her daddy’s stern
voice.
He rolled his eyes and muttered, “I can see
you’re gonna be a load of fun as a teenager.”
“Now
where was I again?” He scratched his cheek, “Oh yeah,
your mom’s glowing attributes. Let’s see,” he gazed
at the ceiling, “…she’s smart…really smart.
Don’t tell Mommy, but sometimes, she runs circles ‘round
Daddy in court. In fact, sometimes Daddy has to resort to crazy
schemes and shenanigans to gain the upper hand…like shooting
off a gun in the court room or… Ah, scratch that, maybe it’s
not such a good idea to provide you with inspiration for wayward
stunts. Let’s just keep that little ‘slip of the tongue’
a secret between you and Daddy…okay squirt?” He held
Maggie’s hand aloft and gave her a ‘high five’.
“Okay,
back to your mom…um, let’s see, she’s loving and
giving. She has a heart a mile wide. She never gives up. She never
abandons or leaves anyone behind,” he tapped a finger against
his lip in thought.
Eyes lighting up in mischief, he crooned,
“Of course, she does have a tattoo! It’s located right on
her… Ah, never mind…that’s another one of those
things you don’t need to know. In fact,” he flashed her a
menacing fatherly glare, “…you’re not allowed to
get a tattoo either! I don’t care what the other kids say and
do…NO TATTOO!”
When Maggie giggled, he
reprimanded in a soft but firm voice, “No, no, young lady!
Daddy’s very serious about this. I want you to write it down on
your ‘off limits’ list. ‘No Tattoo’ belongs
right next to, ‘No Special Forces’! Oh, and one other
thing,” he shook his finger, “…never trust a guy
who drives a red car! Yes, I know Daddy has a red car, but Daddy the
only exception to the rule. NO RED CARS!”
At that
moment, Harm heard riotous laughter ring out from behind him.
Quirking his head to the left, he peered over his shoulder into the
shining eyes of his wife. She was doubled over, gasping for breath,
with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“How long have you
been there?” he muttered, cheeks burning
bright.
“Let’s…seeee,” the words
slurred out betweens bursts of levity, “…I remember
something…about…chewing on…toes.” She
tried to calm and control her giggles. “I only wish…I’d
had the video recorder…your mom…would’ve
loved…”
“Hey now…there’s no
need to go to extremes! Let’s just keep this between the three
of us! No need to drag in other combatants!” he slouched down
further, pouting behind the couch.
She pranced toward him, a
smile still dancing in her eyes. “There’s no need to be
embarrassed. I thought it was really very sweet.” She sat down
beside her beloved pair, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“I
don’t s’pose we can forget this ever happened?” he
ducked his head away chagrinned.
“Don’t see that
happening,” she caressed his bright warm cheek, “…but
I’m sure you’ll find something equally discomforting to
hold over my head.” He rolled his eyes in disagreement.
“Besides, I love you in full ‘Daddy Mode’, and most
of what you said was very complimentary to me.”
“Noticed
that did you?” he bumped his shoulder to hers.
“Yep,”
she quirked a brow, “…all except that tattoo comment.”
She leaned up for a proper ‘Hello, I’ve Missed You All
Day--So Glad To Be Home’ kiss. Maggie’s squeal for
attention broke the spell before the kiss could get out of hand.
Mac
reached for her daughter and lifted her overhead, “There’s
Mommy’s baby girl. Did you have fun with Daddy today?”
The baby extended her arms, waving her hands like little birds in
flight. Mac pulled her closer, slathering her with kisses from ear to
ear.
The grandfather clock struck the six o’clock hour,
and Mac looked up in a horrified panic. “Shoot! With all the
fun, I forgot…the photographer’s gonna be here any
minute!”
She gawked at her nearly naked daughter,
bedecked only in a disposable diaper, and her bare-chested spouse.
“Harm, you two were supposed to be dressed and ready! Now, all
three of us need to get changed!”
“Calm down,
Marine…it’s okay. The photographer called to say he’s
running late. I don’t expect him before 7…7:30.”
Mac visibly deflated with relief.
“As for our
cloothesss,” he drew out the syllable, “…we had a
little mishap. Didn’t we, MagPie?”
Mac warily eyed
the pair, “What kinda mishap?”
“Ahhhh, the
kind where Maggie erupted like Mt. Vesuvius all over our fancy
duds.”
“Harrrmmm…”
“Don’t
look at me,” he shook his head and pointed, “…she
did it!”
Maggie giggled at her parents funny expressions
and yo-yoing words. “Hey, don’cha blame me, baby sweet
thing!” he wiggled a finger at the miniature version of his
wife.
Rubbing a hand over her weary face, Mac sighed, “How
did this happen?”
“I told you she hated
formula!”
“There were three bottles of breastmilk
in the fridge when I left this morning,” she screwed her face
up in disgust when Maggie nailed her uniform blouse with curdled
milk.
He tipped is head in that ‘Told You So’
superior way of his, which quickly morphed into contrition. “One
of the bottles kinda…exploded in the…ah, microwave,”
he shrugged his shoulders begging forgiveness.
“Do I
even wanna see the microwave?” she eyed him.
He looked
away mumbling, “I, ah…might recommend…ah,
avoiding the…um, kitchen…all
together.”
“Harrrmmm…”
“Sorry,”
he grimaced, “…I’ll, ah…clean it up
later.”
Mac peered at her daughter with a perplexed
expression, “Maggie, what’s Mama gonna do with you?”
The baby cooed and giggled, reaching up to pat Mac’s face.
“Alright, I guess we’ll have to keep ya. Besides, I think
Daddy would pick you over Mama any day.”
“Fat
chance,” Harm snorted, “…I’m not letting
either of you outta my sight!”
“So?!”
Harm
cast Mac a dubious gaze, “Sooooo….”
“What
are we gonna do about Maggie’s dress? Harm, your mom’s
gonna kill me!” She glared when he laughed outright. “I’m
serious! She had that dress ordered special from one of those
exclusive baby boutiques in San Francisco. She specifically asked for
a portrait of Maggie in ‘that’ Christmas dress! She’s
gonna kill me,” she shook her head in frustration, “…I’m
a failure as a daughter-in-law.”
No longer able to hold
it in, Harm erupted in laughter, “Don’t be dramatic,
MacKenzie.” When she scowled, he rushed on undeterred, “First
of all, you reached near perfection in Mom’s book, when you
managed to finally haul me in after all these years. I think she was
beginning to wonder if I was gay, and all my previous girlfriends
were merely props in the allusion. The fact that you provided her
with the coveted grandbaby after she gave up all hope and expectation
in my fatherly abilities, moves you past perfection,” his hand
flew skyward, “…to downright saint status. Personally, I
think she likes you better than me!”
“But Harm,
the dress…”
“Don’t worry about the
dress!” He reached for his daughter, wiggling her overhead, and
spoke in a singsongy voice, “You hated that dress…didn’t
ya, Maggie. Tell Mommy…it was all flouncey and big. You looked
like a giant red velvet pompom. Plus, the lace scratched your neck
and arms, creating angry red welts.”
“Fine! You
tell your mom why there’s no Christmas portrait!”
“I
will,” he bumped his arm into hers, “…if anyone
has to take the fall, leave it to me. Besides…”
He
reached under the couch and withdrew an 8x10 sheet of photo paper.
Handing it to her, he smiled proud as peacock, “I played around
with a little digital photography of my own today.”
She
studied the picture in silence, hand cupped over her mouth and tears
in her eyes. “How did you…”
“Maggie
and I had a little fun this afternoon…didn’t we, doodle
bug.” Maggie giggled her reply and reached for the photo. “No,
no baby, that one’s for Mommy’s desk. We have another one
for Daddy’s, and a larger version for Gummy and Papa.”
“It’s
beautiful…your mom’s gonna love it,” the words
bubbled out between gasps and tears.
“Hey, I didn’t
think it would make you cry!”
“Hormones,”
she waved a dismissive hand.
“But you’re not
pregnant anymore,” he teased, snaking an arm around her
shoulders.
“Doesn’t matter…woman’s
prerogative,” she wiped a finger under her eyes to dry the
moisture. Studying the picture of her daughter, she shook her head in
amazement, “Where’d you find the box?”
“Made
it,” he preened, “…I thought we should share our
very best gift this year!”
Mac chuckled softly, all the
while, examining the portrait. He’d positioned a huge wrapped
gift box in front of the Christmas tree, with the lid tipped off to
the side. Mountains of tissue paper sprang from the box, and perched
in the middle of the holiday extravaganza was Maggie giggling in the
aforementioned red velvet Christmas dress.
“Harm, this
is so amazing…I can’t believe…”
“So,
do ya think this will satisfy Gummy?” he tapped the corner of
the photo.
“Oh yeah,” Mac nodded, “…I
think she’s gonna be one proud grandma.” She graced him
with his most favorite smile, “You really saved my neck with
this one.” She set the photo aside for safekeeping, and wrapped
her arms around his chest. Head tipped up, her lips sought out
his.
When they parted, he winked, “I aim to please,
darlin.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and
chuckled back, “Every now and then I catch you being
nice.”
“Keep it to yourself, okay? I’ve got
a reputation to protect.” He squeezed her hand, “As for
the photographer’s family Christmas portrait, I was thinking
something comfortable and relaxed. How about the soft red and white
striped Christmas sleeper you bought last week? Maggie will look just
like one of Santa’s elves dressed up in it. And you and I can
wear those red cashmere sweaters you picked out, along with some
jeans. As long as Mom has a photo to share with her friends, I think
she’ll be satisfied…to a grandma, it’s all about
bragging rights, after all,” he waggled his brow.
***
Later
that evening…
Harm dried his hands on the dishtowel and
hung it from the oven door. Taking stock of the now sparkling
kitchen, he sighed with satisfaction and exhaustion. Grabbing a
Christmas cutout cookie on the way out the door, he turned to head
upstairs. Before reaching the stairs, he flicked off the front hall
lights and clicked the lock. The twinkling lights on the Christmas
tree caught his attention, and he wandered into the living room to
unplug the tree.
The angel ornament sparkled and flickered in
the dim light of the room. He stopped to take note of the simple
symbol of peace and support. Reaching out, he tapped the crystal
angel and watched as it twirled in the sparkle of Christmas
lights.
“Hey Dad,” he whispered, “…you’ve
got a new grandbaby this year. I know you’ve probably noticed
the hubbub and chaos around here, as well as, the laughter and fun.
Maggie, that’s her name…well, Margaret actually, but we
call her Maggie.” He shook his head, “She’s really
something, Dad. I never imagined it could be like this. Who knew you
could fall in love so fast and so overwhelmingly complete in the span
of a heartbeat? She amazes me everyday with some new feat or just the
light of her smile. She actually has a special one, just for me. I
don’t know what I would do without her or Mac.”
He
glanced heavenward and blinked back the moisture in his eyes, “So
Dad, if you don’t mind…keep looking out for my two best
girls. My world would surely come to an end without their
smiles.”
He tapped the ornament once more then leaned
down to unplug the tree. Heading out of the room, he turned back one
final time, “Night Dad…love you. Thanks for keeping a
watchful eye.”
He wearily climbed the stairs, and
wandered down the hall past the master bedroom. Standing in the
doorway to the nursery, he paused to study the heavenly sight inside.
Mac was relaxed in the rocking chair feeding their daughter. Her
fingers stroked through Maggie’s soft dark curls, and a gentle
contented smile graced her face. Maggie’s eyes were closed and
her body almost completely relaxed in sleep. Mac drew a finger in a
gentle caress over the baby’s cheek, and Maggie’s mouth
puckered before resuming its gentle suckling and thrusting motion.
This was a real life picture for which he would never tire, he mused
in thought.
Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed on his
chest, one foot angled over the other, he whispered, “Told you,
she liked you better.”
Mac looked up startled, and
Maggie began to wiggle in her grasp. She tightened her arm around the
baby’s small body, and the little one settled once
more.
“Sorry,” he whispered in hushed tones and
crept into the room. He paused beside the chair, running a finger
over Maggie’s cheek to entice her to finish nursing, then
leaned down to kiss her soft baby head. Inhaling deeply, he smiled at
the sweet scent of baby powder and lotion, with just the hint of that
something more inherent in one so small. The special essence unique
to a baby girl, which evokes images of ballerinas, angels, fairy
princesses, and all things wistful and soft.
Squeezing one of
Mac’s shoulders, he stole a quick kiss, and wandered over to
the bedroom window. Staring into the dark night, he watched the tiny
snowflakes swirl and fall in the illumination of the streetlamps. His
breath fogged the window, and he drug a finger through the
condensation in a crisscrossing snowflake pattern.
“It’s
snowing,” his gaze remained transfixed on the early winter
storm, “…starting to look like
Christmas.”
“Mmmm…started on the way home,”
she softly uttered, as she shifted Maggie onto her shoulder, gently
patting her back. “There was already a half inch when I came in
the door.”
“Looks like a couple by now.” A
smile played on his lips, “The snowflakes are so small and
lazily drifting down…it’s look like the angels are
sifting powdered sugar.”
“Powdered sugar, huh?”
She gently laid the baby in the crib and joined him at the window,
burrowing into his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but
continued to watch the wintry scene, while lost in thought.
She
bumped her hip to his, “I said…powdered sugar, huh?”
He
smiled at her playful teasing tone, and turned to face her fully.
Wrapping both arms around tight, he pulled her into a warm embrace,
“Maggie and I were baking cookies this afternoon. You can blame
my confectionary description on Grandma Sarah’s Famous
Christmas Cutout recipe.”
She flashed him a wry grin and
reached up to swipe a dab of frosting from his chin. Licking her
thumb, she chuckled, “That would explain the pink icing between
Maggie’s toes.”
He ducked his head to hide the
blush, “Thought I got that washed off when I gave her a
bath.”
“Care to explain how it got there in the
first place,” she raised a brow, still smiling in
amusement.
“Better to nibble on,” he shrugged his
shoulders.
“Which one…you or Maggie?”
“Both,”
he grinned unrepentantly, “…after all, Maggie needed a
taste of her Great Grandma’s Christmas cookies, even if it was
only the frosting. And personally,” he puffed up his chest in
challenge, “…I happen to think her toes taste best when
lathed in butter cream icing.”
“What happened to
the ‘No Chewing on Toes’ etiquette rule,”
she tugged on his catywampus ear.
“Ah, you obviously
missed Corollary ‘a-22’, subcategory ‘b’ to
Rule #1…‘Only Daddy is allowed to nibble on MagPie’s
frosted toes’,” he punctuated the declaration with a
superior index finger waving in the air.
“Well then, I
stake claim to her pudgy thighs,” Mac crooned back. They both
giggled with unbridled joy at the serious tone of their ludicrous
‘Division of Assets’.
Once they had calmed down,
Harm pulled her to his chest, rubbing his cheek against the perfumed
softness of her hair. She snuggled her face into his neck, wiggling
her nose at the scratchy roughness of his late evening beard. Swaying
them to and fro in the dim moonlight cast through the nursery window,
he peered into their daughter’s crib and began to
hum.
“Where’d ya hear that tune?” Mac sighed
with sleepy contentment against his skin, causing him shiver and
tighten his embrace.
“On the radio…while Maggie
and I…were cooking,” he yawned.
Reaching for her
hand, he tucked it to his chest, and began to leisurely waltz them
around the room. “This is nice,” she kissed his neck in a
nipping fashion, working her way to his ear.
“Mmmm-um,”
he agreed humming between his words “… the song reminded
me…of how blessed our Christmas is this year…you, me
and Maggie. I can’t think of another gift I want or desire
more…than the happiness and love of our family.”
Continuing
to slowly circle the nursery, he softly sang the words…
A
ray of hope flickers in the sky
A tiny star lights up way up
high
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to
pass, when a child is born
A silent wish sails the seven
seas
The winds of change whisper in the trees
And the walls of
doubt crumble tossed and torn
This comes to pass, when a child is
born
A rosy hue settles all around
You got the feel you're
on solid ground
For a spell or two no one seems forlorn
This
comes to pass, when a child is born…
The End…for
real this time!