Part
16B
Two months later, on the Fourth of July, the Roberts,
Michaelsons and AJ gathered at the Rabb’s house to celebrate
Sammy’s 2nd birthday. Everyone enjoyed a summer barbeque and
fireworks, before the exhausted kids were ferried back to their
respective residences.
After getting the kids to bed, Mac
wandered into the master bedroom to find Harm flipping through legal
files. She busied herself with preparing for bed, never uttering a
word of conversation.
Noticing her quiet demeanor, Harm set
aside the files to observe his wife. When she climbed into bed, he
saw the tears slowly gliding down her cheeks. He pulled her into his
embrace, “Hey, what’s wrong? Are the kids OK?” She
nodded but didn’t embellish further. “Mac, did something
happen?”
She picked at her nail and whispered, “Sammy
doesn’t need me anymore.”
He turned her face
toward him, “Sweetheart, what are you talking about…of
course, Sammy needs you.” When her eyes fell, he nodded in
understanding, “Ah…he doesn’t NEED you anymore.
I’m sorry, sweetheart…but you expected him to come to
that conclusion around now.”
She sniffed, “I
know…it’s just that I didn’t expect it to be,
exactly today. When I sat down with him in the rocker, he told me he
was a ‘big boy’ today…and he just wanted me to
sing his Pooh song.” As she continued to softly cry, he held
her and ran his fingers through her hair. After several minutes, she
began to confide, “My last baby’s not a baby anymore…he’s
a little man. I’m going to miss our special time together. I
waited so long to have children, and they’re growing up so
fast.”
“You can still have a special time…you
just need a new nighttime activity, Mac.”
She wiped her
eyes, “I know…I just can’t believe that Sophie’s
5 and Sammy’s already 2. It’s seems like just yesterday,
we were worrying in the NICU.”
He kissed her forehead
and then shifted her further into his arm, “Hey, I’ve got
something for you…a present…two, actually. This seems
like the perfect time to give them to you.”
He extended
his hand, in front of both of them, and opened his fingers to revel a
small wrapped box. She gave a small pained smile, “Harm, it’s
not my birthday…it’s Sammy’s.”
He
wrapped his free arm around her tighter and squeezed, “This is
in celebration of Sammy. I’m just a little late.”
She
swallowed and took the gift box from his hand. Gingerly, she removed
the wrappings and opened the box. Immediately, tears filled her eyes
again, “Oh, Harm…how did you find it?”
He
smiled against her shoulder, “The same artist that made the one
for David…pick it up and look closer.”
She
removed the gold charm from the box and studied its intricate detail.
It was a miniature gold gift box, complete with an elaborate gilded
bow. In the center knot of the ribbon was a small diamond. She gently
fingered the delicate charm and turned it over. On the bottom, she
noticed some unusual lettering. “Harm, what does this
mean?”
He kissed her ear and whispered, “It’s
Hebrew for ‘God’.” He touched a small clasp on the
front of the box, “Open it.” As she released the small
clasp, she gasped. Inside the box, was a pair of silver hands, cupped
together, holding a delicate golden teddy bear. He touched the bear,
“Samuel Matthew, was because ‘God had heard’ our
secret prayers and granted our utmost desire, in the ‘Gift’
of our son.”
She released a shuddered breath and turned
in his embrace, “Thank you…it’s beautiful.”
He
kissed her forehead, eyes, cheeks and finally her lips. “Your
welcome…I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He
gently rocked her for several minutes until she visibly calmed.
Reaching behind him, once again, he retrieved one more larger gift
box. “I have one more present for you…for us,
actually.”
She released a shuddering chuckle, “I
don’t know if I can handle anymore surprises tonight.”
He
kissed her cheek, “It’s OK…this one’s
something to look forward too.”
She removed the
gift-wrap and lid, gently lifting the tissue paper and peered into
the box. “Harm, what’s this about.” She puzzled as
she lifted the envelopes from the box.
He took each envelope
in turn, “Airline tickets and reservations for Kiawah
Island…the end of September. I thought we could go away for a
long weekend and reconnect.”
She looked back at him,
“All of us?”
He shook his head, “Nope, just
you and me. Sammy just made the decision easier to accept.” At
her look of uncertainty, he continued, “My Mom and Frank are
going to come stay with the kids…and I already put in for
leave for the two of us…say yes, Mac.”
“But
we’ve never both been away from the kids at the same time…I’m
not sure…”
“Sarah, the kids love Gummy and
Papa…and it’s only for a long weekend…4 days to
be exact. We need this…like we talked about…Please?”
She
smiled at his pleading ‘little boy’ look. “Yes…Yes
Sailor, we can slip away together, for a
quiet…romantic…private…weekend…just the
two of us,” was uttered between kisses. The earlier tears were
forgotten, in the pursuit of more enjoyable activities.
***
The Friday night, 2 weeks later, Harm came home to the
soulful romantic sounds of soft jazz, emanating from the stereo. He
could smell the faint fragrance of citrus wafting from the kitchen.
He stepped into the hallway and dropped his briefcase and cover.
“Mac…kids…anyone home?”
“In
here,” came the seductive drawl from the kitchen.
He
walked toward the inviting sounds and fragrances that threatened to
overwhelm his now heightened senses. He paused in the doorway as he
watched Mac sway around the kitchen, in time to the rich sensuous
music. She was dressed in a light floral skirt that swirled around
her calves as she moved. Her sleeveless top was made of a rich coral
colored silk that highlighted the rosy glow of her cheeks. He smiled
when he looked down and saw her bare feet complete with coral painted
nails and a toe ring.
He glanced further around the room and
noticed the table was set with crisp linens, china and crystal
intermixed with candles and tropical flowers. He was roused from his
daydreams by a soft whispering voice, “Hey Sailor…do
intend to come in and stay for awhile?” A slight grin played at
his lips, as she moved into his space. She placed a hand under his
chin and tipped a spoon to his mouth, “Taste…Tell me
what think?” The tangy citrus sauce exploded with flavor on his
tongue. As she withdrew the spoon, she leaned forward to kiss him and
flicked her tongue across his lips, “Mmmm…tastes good,
doesn’t it.” She danced away from his grasp before he
could pull her in, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
He
swallowed hard, “Ah Mac…where are the kids?”
She
laughed, waving a hand, “Gone.”
His eyes widened,
“Ah, gone where?”
She grabbed his hand and pulled
him over to the counter. “Bradley took them for the night.
Charlie wanted a sleep-over.” She handed him a glass with a
cool fruit drink concoction.
His mouth hung open, “Both
of them…even Sammy?”
She winked and laughed,
“Yes, Harm…even Sammy. Charlie wanted to play big
brother tonight. I thought this would be a perfect test run for a
night without the kids.” She kissed him quickly on the
lips.
His eyes grew wider, “So, it’s just you and
me?”
She moved past him, dragging a hand over his chest,
“You’re a little slow on the uptake tonight, Sailor. I
thought we could enjoy a romantic evening of cooking, eating…and
other things.” She grinned again, “It’s been a
while.”
His mind was starting to kick into gear with
images of the evening’s potential activities. He waggled his
brow, “What’s on the menu.”
“Think
tropical,” she smiled back, “…but first you need
to get out of that uniform. I set your evening’s attire on the
bed.”
He smirked, “You’re picking out my
clothes, now?”
She moved past again, whispering in his
ear, “I planned the evening…I get to pick the attire.
Now get moving.”
He kissed her cheek and then pulled
back, “Yes, ma’am…be back in a minute. Don’t
start without me…better yet, you could come with me.”
She
pulled away from his grasp, “Nuh uh, dessert is for later.”
He
disappeared up the stairs, shaking his head. On the way home, he’d
been hoping for a relaxing weekend, but in his wildest imagination,
he’d never dreamed up this scenario. He stripped and jumped
into the shower. Toweling dry, he started into the bedroom to get
dressed, but quickly reversed direction back to the master bath. Mac
had gone out of her way to plan a romantic evening; the least he
could do was play up his part as well. He quickly shaved and applied
cologne and aftershave. He smiled, it was Mac’s favorite scent;
he could play the role of tempter just as well as his wife. He looked
at the clothes laid out on the bed. Tonight was definitely casual,
island attire.
He descended the stairs and sauntered back into
the kitchen, Mac’s eyes widened in appreciation. He was dressed
in natural linen knee-length shorts and a steel blue loose-woven silk
sweater. His hair was still damp and tousled from the shower and he
also sported bare feet. She circled him slowly, nodding approval,
“Looking good, Navy.”
He smiled, “I don’t
seem to remember these particular garments being a part of my
wardrobe, Marine.”
She stroked her hand down his back,
his muscles rippling under her touch, “Ummm, soft. I had an
early day today…I went shopping for some clothes for our
weekend getaway. I knew you would look good in this sweater…the
color brings out the blue in your eyes.” She caressed his face
and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.”
He pulled
her into his embrace and nibbled back on her lips, “You look
pretty amazing yourself.”
She grabbed his hand and spun
away, “Come with me…we have food to prepare.”
He
grinned, “Yes, ma’am…what’s on the menu?”
She tipped a glass to his lips before taking a drink herself. His
eyes widened at the taste, “Mmmm, that’s good…what
is it?”
“The menu tonight is tropical island
cuisine…fish…citrus. The drink is a combination of
sweet oranges, lemons, simple syrup and a pina colada coconut mix.”
She pulled him to the counter, “We’ll start with a salad
of baby greens, toasted coconut, fresh pineapple, and almonds, tossed
in a citrus vinaigrette and topped with lemon herbed marinated shrimp
and goat cheese.” She offered him a marinated shrimp. His
grasped her hand taking the shrimp from her with his mouth and
sucking the citrus marinated from her fingers.
She smiled and
pulled him toward the cook top, “Moving on…we’re
have grilled sea bass with a citrus sauce…toasted orzo with
coconut and almonds…and for dessert…” she opened
the refrigerator door and withdrew a covered glass dish. She lifted
the cover to expose a rich decadent treat, “Coconut Macadamia
Nut Torte with a White Chocolate Mousse Filling.” He inhaled
the tantalizing mixture of smells, from nuts to chocolate to toasted
coconut, and reached down to drag his finger through the luscious
creamy topping. She pulled the dish back from his reach, “I
don’t think so, Mister. I seem to remember a similar event a
month or two ago…no fingerprints in my dessert.”
He
grinned, and pulling her into his embrace, leaned down to kiss her
passionately. While he had her attention diverted to more enjoyable
endeavors, he reached out to the dessert plate and snagged a large
dollop of the creamy mousse topping. As he pulled back, he licked the
cream from the tip of his finger, “Mmmm…delicious.”
Mac
stood with mouth agape, “Harm…I can’t believe you
just did that!”
He smirked and grabbed another
finger-full of topping. “Mac, as I recall…last time I
was found guilty of a crime I didn’t commit. I figure you owe
me one indiscretion.” He extended his cream covered finger to
her mouth, “Here…live dangerously.”
Her
eyes twinkled as she engulfed his finger in her mouth and swirled her
tongue over the surface. His eyes dilated as a blush rose to his
cheeks. “You’re right, Harm…I should live
dangerously.”
He gulped, “Maybe we should put the
dessert away for now…concentrate on dinner,” he breathed
in and out deeply, “…otherwise we may never get around
to the food.”
She giggled, “You are so busted,
Flyboy. Come on…why don’t you start on the orzo while I
cut up the ingredients for the salad.”
They moved
gracefully around the kitchen; slicing, sautéing
and grilling was intermixed with tastes, caresses and kisses. Final
flourishes of grated lemon peel, toasted nuts and coconut were added
before they sat down to enjoy a slow casually-elegant dinner. He
chuckled at the apropos oxymoron; here they sat in linen, silk and
bare feet enjoying a tropical feast over china, crystal, candles and
flowers. The conversation was decidedly adult, the topics of work and
children, banished for the night. Dessert was shared by the spoonful,
before they retired for the night, leaving the less pleasurable task
of clean up for the morning after.
In the early morning hours,
Mac reached out to find Harm’s side of the bed cold and empty.
She wrapped herself in the silk robe, at the foot of the bed, and
went in search of her missing husband. Passes through the bathroom,
kitchen and family room failed to reveal her lost mate. Just as she
was about to return to the master bedroom, she heard a faint sound
coming from Sammy’s room. She quietly entered the room and
found Harm rocking in the chair, illuminated only by the moonlight
dancing through the windows. He was gently stroking Sammy’s
teddy bear. She approached cautiously so as not to startle him and
reached out to run her fingers lightly through his hair. “Harm,
sweetheart…are you OK? What are you doing in here?”
He
said nothing for several minutes, before responding in a whisper, “I
miss them…I never imagined I could miss them this much in just
one night.”
She walked around to the front of him to
caress his cheek, and he pulled her into his lap. He buried his face
in her neck and she felt the faint wetness of a tear. She kissed his
cheek as her fingers continued to play in the hair at the back of his
neck. “Hey, it’s OK…I miss them too. How are we
ever going to survive a weekend away from them?”
He
sighed, “I don’t know. I wasn’t prepared to be away
from them tonight. Maybe it will be better, if we plan ahead.”
They
sat in silence for several minutes more, before she rose from his lap
and gave a tug to his hand. “Come on Daddy…it’s
time to go back to bed. They’ll be home soon.”
***
Over the next month, the Rabbs moved on to achieve bigger and
better milestones. Sammy decided he was a big boy and no longer
wanted baby things, including diapers. The problem arose when he
refused to use the training potty. He reasoned, ‘that the
powtty chaiwr was for girwls’ and he wanted to ‘stwand up
at da big powtty wike Daddee.’ After several misses, messes and
disasters, Harm came up with a battle plan to assist his miniature
sailor in the success of his mission. Placing a step in front of the
toilet was solution #1, solution #2 involved tossing a few Cheerios
into the toilet water and telling Sammy to ‘aim and shoot to
sink’ the target. Sammy had great fun with the new game and
after several days became an expert marksman. Sophie had never been
that easy to train.
The next milestone, that came to pass, was
Sophie’s first day of kindergarten. The Rabb kids had always
enjoyed daycare at the Roberts’ home. The need to leave the
pack and attend school solo was a scary endeavor, for the parents.
Sophie, on the other hand, reveled in her chance at independence.
She’d thrived in her summer soccer league, enlarging her circle
of acquaintances and making new friends. Her only compliant, with
school, was that Charlie couldn’t attend with her. She thrilled
to the idea of new clothes, shoes, backpack, school supplies and any
other fashion or education related accoutrement, she could con her
Mama into…Daddy was an even easier sale. The first day of
school resulted in smiles and tears…the first from Sophie, the
later from Mama and Daddy…their baby was growing up.
***
The last weekend in September, Harm and Mac left for their
private weekend retreat on Kiawah Island. Sammy and Sophie were
thrilled with the idea of spending a few days being indulged and
spoiled by Gummy Trish and Papa Frank. Harm and Mac, on the other
hand, both tried to hide tears all the way to the airport. Once they
arrived on the island, frequent phone calls home were intermixed with
island activities. The weather in late September was perfect,
temperatures only reached the low 70’s to 80’s, and the
fall humidity was pleasantly tolerable. As per their prior visit,
they once again enjoyed golf, cycling, dining out and walks on the
beach.
On their final night, they packed a picnic basket full
of gourmet treats and headed out to enjoy dinner on the beach. At
dusk, they walked hand in hand, through the surf, as the setting sun
put on a dazzling display of artwork in warm hues of purples and
pinks. There was a pleasant ocean breeze that kept the waves rolling
onto the shore. As the wind picked up, Mac dropped his hand to reign
in her wayward skirt.
He stood, a few feet away, watching her
dance through the surf in the fading evening light. She was wearing a
lightweight flowing sundress that swirled around her legs in the
breeze. She had sandals in one hand and alternated the second between
grasping her dress and brushing the hair from her face. He smiled as
she retrieved yet another conch shell for the kids. She was
breathtaking in the dim light of the setting sun; a vision as best
described by Byron. He stood transfixed and began to quietly recite
the poetic words to the wind, as if it alone were his only
audience.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of
cloudless climes and starry skies;
And of all that’s best of
dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Mac
paused to look back at her husband and smiled, “Is that poetry
I hear you quoting…because in all my dreams, I never imagined
Harmon Rabb quoting poetry.”
He blushed at being caught
and grabbed her hand to pull her back to the blanket. Once he had her
settled back against his chest, he smiled into her ear, “It’s
Lord Byron…I haven’t thought about that passage in
years. After my ramp strike, Gram spent weeks, at my bedside in the
hospital, reading poetry to help me relax. Once I retreated to the
farm to recuperate, there wasn’t a lot I could do. I was still
recovering from my injuries and couldn’t help out with the
farm. Gram was never much for television, so we spent a lot of time
reading and talking. Poetry turned out to be a way to escape, along
with refurbishing Sarah. I pretty much forgot about it after I’d
recovered and faced the review board. A couple of years later, a law
school professor got me started again.”
She turned back to
look at him with a puzzled expression, “Law school…what
does law school have to do with poetry. I know it wasn’t a
required course at Duke.”
He shifted back to recline on
his side so he could look into her face. Reaching up, he brushed a
lock of hair behind her ear, “He thought it would help with my
confidence and presentation before the jury. I was always outgoing
and cocky as a pilot, but engineering and aeronautical courses hardly
prepare you to present a closing argument. I had to switch gears in
order to present a passionate oratory to sway a jury. The professor
swore that quoting poetry helped in the presentation. Which passage,
I chose to recite would depend upon the case. If it was based on
facts alone and I wanted to sway the jury to convict, I would use
dramatic or military passages, such as Shakespeare’s ‘Julius
Cesar’ or ‘Macbeth’ or Dante’s ‘Inferno’.
If I wanted to sway them with an emotional appeal then I would use
poetry,” he slyly grinned, “…love poems
mostly.”
She squinted back, “Love poems, huh? I
never took you for a love poem kinda guy; although, you were the
master at passionate appeals in the courtroom. Your closing arguments
sometimes swayed me…even when I was the opposing counsel.”
She shook her head, “Poetry…I’ll have to remember
that one.” She paused to study him further, “So did you
ever recite poetry to any of your past loves?”
He grew
serious, “Only one…and it was a long time ago.”
He
watched her visibly deflate as she whispered, “Diane?”
He
took her hand, “No Mac, not Diane…our relationship never
came close to that level of intimacy.”
“Then
who?”
He kissed her wrist, “You…only with
you, Sarah.”
She looked back stunned, “Me? Harm, I
know there were times when I appeared to be deaf, dumb or blind when
it came to you…or times when it seemed, we spoke different
languages. But for the life of me, I don’t remember any poetry
flowing from those beautiful lips.”
He continued in
quiet voice as if sharing a secret with the wind, “I did it for
years in my most private thoughts and secret dreams. At first, it was
when I went up against you in court…you know, to get an edge.
But eventually, it happened in my best dreams and quiet
reflections…just between you and me. I couldn’t admit it
to you, anymore than I could admit my love. I came close a few times,
but I always reigned myself in and found control at the last minute.
I finally stopped indulging in that particular illusion, all
together, about 7 or 8 years ago,” he continued on in a barely
audible whisper, “…when I gave up hope…after…”
She
looked down into his sad face and finished his thought,
“Paraguay.”
He nodded, “Yeah…I never
recited poetry again after experiencing that soul-killing debacle. I
thought I’d lost you for good that time, I didn’t see the
point of the indulgence anymore.” He looked back into her face
and startled, as if noticing her for the first time, “I’m
sorry, Mac. I don’t know where all that came from…I
thought I’d buried it and moved on.”
She tilted
her head and studied him carefully. “Harm, do you think you
might ever be persuaded to recite poetry again…to me…seeing
as I was never privy to the gifts of your talent the first time
around?”
He looked away, “I don’t know, Mac.
It’s been years…I don’t know if I remember
anymore. Besides, it’s one thing to share in your dreams…it’s
quite another to…I just don’t know.”
She
stroked his cheek, “I understand being unsure…afraid. I
suppose it’s kind of like bearing your soul…but we share
everything else with each other? While I know it’s not exactly
the same, I think it’s similar to my painting…when I
painted the kid’s rooms, especially Sammy’s…I was
trying to express my hopes and dreams for them. Does that make
sense?”
“I guess…I still don’t think
I can…” he shook his head, “…I mean, I’m
not sure I remember most of them anymore.”
She stared
out at the ocean and replied in a melancholy tone, “You
remembered Byron just fine…maybe I’m not the inspiration
I used to be.”
He sat up quickly and pulled her into his
arms, “No sweetheart…that’s not it at all. I’m
not sure I could make you understand the depths…I don’t
know how to explain it.” He paused a moment, “It’s
one thing to perform before a jury…it quite another to make a
fool of yourself before the woman you love.”
She looked
back puzzled, “Why would you say that? I could never think of
you as foolish. Who better to let go with…to bare your soul
to…than the one person who loves you most?”
He
kissed her ear before whispering, “Your right…you’ve
always been my strongest supporter and fiercest guardian…”
he grinned, “…but that still doesn’t mean I
remember any poetry.”
She raised her brow in challenge,
“You were doing a pretty good job with Byron a moment ago;
maybe you could start there.”
He shook his head, “No,
if I’m going to recite a passage of poetry to you, it shouldn’t
be one that’s over used and misquoted…it should be
special. I don’t want Shakespeare’s sonnets or the
‘Sonnets From the Portuguese’, not that they aren’t
beautiful words…I want it to be something with a special
meaning.”
She frowned, “Are you saying that
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s, ‘Sonnet From the
Portuguese’, doesn’t have a special meaning?”
“No…it’s
just that, I’m not sure I can do justice to the words…”
he shook his head and sighed, “…or rather, I’m not
sure that I can make the words do justice to the depth of my feelings
for you.”
She blinked at the tears in her eyes, “I
understand what you’re trying to say, and I love you
too.”
They sat in silence enjoying the stars, the wind,
the sounds, the fragrances and each other. Finally he pointed toward
the sky, “Pick a star and make a wish.”
She shook
her head, “No.”
He leaned forward to look into her
eyes, “What do you mean, no? You don’t want to pick a
star…or you don’t want to make a wish?”
She
whispered, “No, I don’t NEED to pick a star or make
wish…I already have everything I could ever want.”
He
kissed her cheek and repeated in kind, “I understand what
you’re saying, and I love you too.” He extended his hand
and revealed a small delicate box. Opening the now familiar gift, she
gazed at the unique design of the gold charm. Its body was composed
of two interlinking golden hearts, open at their centers, but joined
intimately at their sides. Suspended between the hearts, at their
joining, were three small diamonds.
“What does it
mean?”
He wiped her tears and explained, “It’s
an expression of our love…one soul joined in two hearts. The
three jewels represent the most exquisite outward testament of our
love…Sophie…David…and Sammy.”
She
buried her face in his neck and began to cry. He gently rocked her in
his arms until the tears lessened, then placing his lips against her
forehead in a gossamer touch as light as butterfly wings, he began to
recite.
I loved you first: but afterwards your
love,
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the
friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? My love
was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I
loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what
might or might not be—
Nay, weights and measures do us both
a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or
‘thine’;
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’
free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:Rich
love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine’;
Both
have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the
love which makes us one.
AN: Poetry
George
Gordon Byron (Lord Byron, 1788-1824); (She walks in
Beauty)
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894); Monna Innominata,
Sonnet #4 (I loved you first)