Two Days Later
1748 (5:18 p.m.)
Madison Residence
Outside of Burlington, Vermont
The next two days passed by uneventfully. Mac had several meetings and appointments with Mrs. Madison and Petty Officer Anderson’s attorneys, arranging Chloe’s inheritances and such. Harm mostly stayed at the house, packing and boxing things that they would be taking back to Virginia. Chloe spent most of her time in her room and the stable. Even though there weren’t many interactions between her and the adults, the uncomfortable silence was no longer there when they were together.
Harm walked out of the guestroom Friday evening to see Mac enter the house, looking haggard. She dropped her purse and briefcase onto the kitchen’s buffet and sat down on one of the barstools. Jingo eagerly pushed her hand for some attention, but she hardly seemed to recognize the dog’s presence.
“You OK?” Harm asked, coming up to rest a hand on her shoulder.
Mac nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just worn out.”
“You want something to eat?”
Mac lifted her head to look up at him, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her lips. “Sure.”
Harm left her side to walk around the buffet. “Let’s see…” He opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. “We’ve got leftover chicken breast, cantaloupe, some disgusting-looking lasagna that’s probably a year old, salad, and bologna.” He pulled his head from the depths of the fridge to face Mac. “How about I make a chicken salad?”
“That sounds good.”
“All right.” Harm grabbed the bag of salad and the chicken, setting them on the counter. Taking a knife from the drawer, he looked up at Mac. “How did your appointment with Mrs. Madison’s attorney go?”
“Pretty well.” Mac was too tired to go into detail.
“Did you get to talk with the director at the funeral home?”
Mac nodded. “The service hall isn’t taken on Sunday, so I booked it. Mrs. Madison’s funeral is going to be at eleven.”
“OK.” Harm paused, his expression thoughtful. “I still don’t understand why Kyle didn’t want a service, though.”
“Some people just don’t want a big ceremony, Harm,” Mac told him. “I know I don’t.”
Harm winced at that and quickly switched to another topic. “Did Mrs. Madison want the house to be sold?” he asked, beginning to slice the chicken.
“Yes; I’ll advertise it with the real estate agency next week.” Mac watched Harm work for a couple of seconds, then asked, “You want some help?”
“Sure.” Harm picked up a piece of chicken and tossed it to Jingo, who’d been watching him for the past five minutes with a decidedly pleading look on his face. “You can mix the salad.”
“OK.” Mac rose out of her seat and walked to the cupboard to get a bowl. Harm handed her the bag of salad, which she opened. She dumped the lettuce into the bowl, grabbed a carrot from the refrigerator, and began to shred it into the salad.
They stayed silent for a while, working side by side. Neither bothered to speak - conversation wasn’t needed. Each one was simply content with the company of the other.
It only took a few minutes to finish preparing the chicken salad. When they were done, Mac wiped her hands on a dishtowel and headed toward the front door. “I’ll call Chloe.”
~*~*~*~*
Next Morning
0856 (8:56 a.m.)
Harm stepped back and studied the living room with a critical eye. He’d just finished dusting and vacuuming the area, and he wanted to make sure that not a speck of dirt was left. After looking the room over twice more, he nodded in satisfaction and returned the vacuum to the hall closet.
He headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, looking for something to drink. The only options were Gatorade, Coke, and water. He chose water. As he was pouring himself a glass, he heard Chloe walk past on her way outside.
“I’m going to the stable,” she informed him before opening the front door.
“Be back by noon, OK?”
“I will,” she called just before the door swung shut behind her.
Harm put the jug of water back in the fridge and leaned against the counter with his glass in hand. Taking a long drink, he tried to think of what he could do next. Mac hadn’t asked him to do any cleaning before she’d left that morning (for a trip to the florist and to make yet another visit to Kyle’s attorney), but he needed something to keep himself busy.
He silently went over all the rooms in the house, trying to think of one that he hadn’t cleaned yet. Kitchen-check. Guestroom-check. Master bedroom-check. Living room- check. Den-check. Both bathrooms-check, check. Was there anything left? Chloe’s room, he realized. Now that he thought about it, that room DID need to be organized, and he could probably even start packing some of the stuff into boxes. He knew Chloe wouldn’t mind.
He refilled his water glass, grabbed a couple of empty boxes from the garage, and headed to the bedroom. He glanced around, trying to decide where to start. Then his eyes fell upon a huge clutter of books, CD’s, and magazines lying on the floor of her closet. That was as good a place to begin as any.
He sat down cross-legged on the floor, setting the boxes beside him. Grabbing up a handful of magazines, he began sorting them: Cosmo Girl in one pile, Horse Illustrated in another, etc.
He whistled softly as he worked. Jingo wandered into the room and plopped down beside him. He had sorted nearly all of the magazines when he uncovered a book that made him stop short.
~*~*~*~*
0905 (9:05 a.m.)
Maggie’s Florist Shop
Burlington, Vermont
Mac cocked her head to one side, studying the rose bouquets in front of her. She couldn’t decide which one to buy for Mrs. Madison’s funeral.
Maggie, the florist, walked up beside her. After glancing at the two bouquets, she pointed to the one on the left. “I think Mrs. Madison would’ve liked that one better,” she told Mac.
“You think so?” Mac asked, turning to look at the older woman.
Maggie nodded.
“All right,” Mac agreed. “I’ll take four.”
“OK.” Maggie walked to the cash register to ring up the total, and Mac followed her.
“Did you know Mrs. Madison very well?” she inquired.
“Oh, yes,” Maggie told her. “She was one of my closest friends. She and I would get together every Sunday after church and swap stories about our grandchildren.” She smiled. “She’d come help me here at the shop sometimes, too.”
“You have grandchildren?”
“Three,” Maggie said. “Rick’s thirteen, Jack’s ten, and Heather’s seven. Sweet kids.”
Rick. The name sounded familiar. Mac quickly searched through her memory file. Chloe’s boyfriend, she realized. “Chloe’s told me all about Rick,” she told Maggie with a small smile.
Maggie chuckled. “I can imagine. That pair is just like two peas in a pod. I know he’s going to miss Chloe terribly when she leaves.”
Mac sobered. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I know that you have to take her with you,” Maggie told her quickly. “I’m not blaming or accusing you, dear. It’s just that life won’t be the same without Chloe’s mischief around here.” She rang up the total for the bouquets, and Mac handed the woman her credit card.
“I’ll bring her up here for visits,” she promised Maggie.
Maggie smiled gratefully. “Thank you, dear.”
Mac nodded and picked up the bouquets. “See you at the funeral.”
~*~*~*~*
Same Time
Madison Residence
Harm stared at the book in his hands. It was bright orange, with the words My Scrapbook written on the front. Harm opened it slowly, and on the very first page was a picture of Mrs. Anderson with a newborn Chloe. Under the picture was written: The world is graced with my birth. Harm had to chuckle. Such humility.
The next few pages were filled with baby pictures - first time she held her head up, when she rolled over for the first time, learning to crawl, beginning to walk on her own. Harm smiled at a close-up of her at her first birthday party. Her light brown hair was held up in purple barrettes, and a dab of chocolate frosting was on the tip of her nose. She was adorable.
On the next page were pictures from her first horseback ride. Mrs. Anderson was riding a chestnut gelding, with Chloe seated in front of her. The enormous grin on Chloe’s face showed, without a doubt, that she was enjoying herself.
The following group of photos showed Chloe getting her first puppy. In most of the pictures, the little Labrador was climbing all over her.
Next were snapshots from her first day of preschool, dressed in a tie-die colored outfit, with a brand-new Barbie backpack and Little Mermaid lunchbox in tow. Although her mother looked ready to cry, Chloe’s face showed eager anticipation.
The next two pages had photos from her first horse show. She’d won first place in the Leadline class, and was proudly holding up her blue ribbon.
Then came Halloween. She’d dressed up as a genie in a bright green outfit, complete with a small plastic lamp. She was waving at the camera with her mouth full of what was most likely chocolate, judging from the dark brown smudges on her cheeks.
The following few pages were filled with pictures of Chloe at Christmas - making a snowman with her mother, falling asleep in the living room waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve, opening presents Christmas morning.
Easter, spending the summer at her grandmother’s house, posing with her friends on her first day of kindergarten…over the next few hours, Harm was transported to another world - Chloe’s past. He lost all track of time as he looked at each picture.
Then he saw a page of photos from the day Chloe had learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels. Mrs. Anderson was running alongside her as she pedaled. At the top of the page was written: It only took me two-and-a-half hours to figure this out. Piece of cake. Harm stared at the pictures for a long time. He’d dreamed many times of teaching his own child how to ride a bike. Hopefully he’d be able to one day.
First grade… a trip to Florida… second grade… winning an art contest… third grade… a family reunion… fourth grade… taking swimming classes… fifth grade… and then Harm flipped a page to see a single picture. It was a professional portrait of Mrs. Anderson. Underneath the picture were the simple words: Mom died. Harm stared at the photo for a while before moving on to the next page.
He was pleasantly surprised to see a group of snapshots of Mac and Chloe. In bright, big letters at the top of the page was written: This is Mac, my new mentor. She’s in the Marines! Harm chuckled.
The next page made him stop short. His eyes widened. It was filled with pictures of he and Mac - at JAG Headquarters, Mac’s apartment, the park… Harm was amazed. He could hardly remember some of the moments that Chloe had captured with her camera. And under one large photo were the words Mac and Harm, her “partner”. The picture was from one of the JAG Christmas parties a few years ago. Both he and Mac had been focused on something else when Chloe snapped the picture (he vaguely remembered Bud singing his own rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”), and a big grin was on both of their faces. Harm laughed, not only because of the memory, but because he couldn’t wait to show it to Mac. She’d love it.
Only three pages left, he noted regretfully. The first and second of them contained shots of when Chloe met her father for the first time. The last was from the most recent Fourth of July - Chloe and a boy who looked about her age were lighting the fuse of a firecracker. At the top, it said, Grandma bought me three boxes of firecrackers, and Rick and I set them off in the driveway. It was a blast!
“Whatcha doin’?” came a curious voice from the doorway.
Harm looked up in surprise. “Hey, Chloe. Back already?”
Chloe stared at him as if he’d misplaced a few too many brain cells. “It’s noon. You wanted me to come in to eat lunch.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, lost track of the time.” Harm hurriedly closed the scrapbook and shoved it behind a box before standing up.
“You’re packing for me?” she asked in surprise, taking in the boxes and piles of CD’s, magazines, and books.
Harm nodded. “I hope that’s OK.”
“It’s fine,” Chloe told him. Her face broke into a small grin. “Less work for me.”
Harm rolled his eyes. “What do you want for lunch, Lazy Pants?”
“We’ve got a DiGiorno’s in the freezer,” she suggested.
“That sounds promising.”
~*~*~*~*
1226 (12:26 p.m.)
Harm’s Lexus
Burlington, Vermont
Mac was turning onto the road that took her to the Madison’s when her cell phone rang. Taking a hand off the steering wheel, she reached into her purse and pulled it out. “Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie.”
“Mac, it’s Sturgis. How’re you holding up?”
“Oh, hi.” Mac sighed. “I’m doing pretty well. I’m on my way back to the house to make about a gazillion phone calls.”
“Funeral invitations?”
“Yeah. It’s too late to send them out by mail.”
“How’s Chloe?”
“A lot better. Harm got her to open up a few nights ago, and I think that really helped her.”
“When’s Harm coming back?”
“Late tomorrow night - he bought his plane ticket yesterday.”
“Does he need a ride home?”
“Probably so. I’ll have him call you.”
“Sounds good. Sorry to cut this short, but my lunch hour’s almost up.”
“All right. Thanks for calling, Sturgis.”
“No problem. Take care, Mac.”
“You, too.”
~*~*~*~*
1555 (3:55 p.m.)
Madison Residence
Outside of Burlington, Vermont
“OK, thank you, Mrs. Bryant. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mac hung up the phone and sighed with relief. “Finally!”
“Finish all your calls?” Harm asked, looking up from the magazine he’d been reading.
“Uh-huh.” Mac rubbed the side of her head. “My ear hurts.”
Harm chuckled. “What’s next on your agenda?”
“A nice, warm shower.” Mac rose off her chair and headed for the stairs. “If anybody calls for me, take a message.”
“Will do. Enjoy.”
“Thanks!”
Harm tried to return his attention to his magazine, but his mind drifted to the scrapbook he’d found earlier. Despite his attempts to occupy himself, he couldn’t get it out of his head.
Chloe’s past reminded him greatly of his own childhood, and how he’d also grown up without a father. Even after all the years that had gone by since he’d been Chloe’s age, he still felt that he’d missed out on part of his childhood. He didn’t want that for Chloe. He wanted her to be able to look back on her younger years and remember that she had a father to teach her how to drive, who knew exactly what she wanted each Christmas, and who stood by her at her high school graduation. Most of all, he wanted her to be happy. And he was going to do whatever possible to make sure of that.
~*~*~*~*
0238 (2:38 a.m.)
A deafening thunderclap woke Mac a few hours after midnight. Moaning, she rolled over and reached for Jingo. He wasn’t there. She opened her eyes in surprise. Where was he? She sat up and looked around the bedroom. He wasn’t sleeping on the floor, either, but the door was ajar.
Curious as to where he’d wandered off to, she climbed out of bed. She stopped briefly at the window, looking out into the rain. She hoped the storm hadn’t awakened Chloe. She walked to the door, pushed it open - and saw Harm.
He was leaning against the doorjamb of Chloe’s bedroom, clad in a U.S.S. Midway T-shirt and white boxers. He turned when he heard Mac approach. “Hey,” he whispered with a small smile. The moonlight coming through the window reflected off his face.
“Hi,” she replied, walking up beside him. She followed Harm’s gaze as he resumed watching Chloe as she slept. Mac smiled wryly when she saw Jingo resting at the foot of the bed. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.
“Not really.” He studied Chloe for a while, then commented, “She looks so peaceful, doesn’t she?”
Mac nodded. “Yeah, she does.” She hugged herself, rubbing her cold arms. Wearing shorts and a tank top to bed was NOT a good idea, she decided.
“You cold?” Harm asked, noticing her attempts to get warm.
She nodded.
“Here.” He opened an arm toward her, and she gladly leaned against him. “Better?”
“Mm-hmm.” She rested her head on his shoulder contentedly, returning her attention to Chloe. “I think she’s going to be OK,” she said quietly.
“She will,” he assured her. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll make it through this.” He gently placed a kiss on the top of Mac’s head, and they lingered in silence.
~*~*~*~*
1248 (12:48 p.m.)
Long’s Cemetery
Outside of Burlington, Vermont
Chloe gripped Mac’s arm tightly, and they watched as Mrs. Madison’s casket was lowered into the ground. Tears filled the young girl’s eyes, and she swallowed hard. “Bye, Gramma,” she whispered softly.
The funeral service had been beautiful. The hall had been packed with close friends of Mrs. Madison, and many had stepped forward to say a few words after the preacher was through with his part of the ceremony. Chloe had declined to make any comments, but she’d made it through the hour with very few tears shed.
“…And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.” The preacher closed his Bible, and the crowd began to disperse. Chloe remained by her grandmother’s grave, and Harm and Mac stood quietly beside her.
Before long, a teenage boy who appeared to be about Chloe’s age approached them. Harm thought he looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite figure out who he was. He stopped a few feet in front of Chloe, and she looked up.
“Hey, Chloe,” the boy said quietly.
Almost immediately, Chloe rushed into his arms. Tears fell down her cheeks onto his jacket as he held her closely and stroked her hair. Finally, after a few minutes, he looked up at Harm and Mac with a small smile. “Are you Chloe’s new family?” he asked.
Mac nodded. “I’m Mac, and this is Harm.”
“I’m Rick. It’s nice to meet you.”
Rick. That’s why he looks so familiar! Harm thought. His picture was in Chloe’s scrapbook.
Chloe’s tears subsided and she pulled away from Rick. He gazed at her tenderly, the compassion on his face unusually heartfelt and genuine for his age. “You gonna be OK?” he asked.
Still sniffling, she managed a nod.
“All right. Let’s go for a walk - you’ll feel better.” He took her hand, then turned to Harm and Mac. “My grandmother wanted to speak with you. She’s right over there.” He pointed.
“OK, thank you,” Mac told him.
“You’re welcome.” And with that, he and Chloe started towards the nearby woods.
Harm followed Mac over to Maggie. “You all right?” he asked quietly, placing a hand on her back as they walked.
“Yeah.” Mac gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
They then turned their attention to Maggie, who greeted Mac with a hug. “Hello, Mac.”
“Hi, Maggie.” Mac returned the embrace, then gestured toward Harm. “Maggie, I’d like to you to meet my partner, Commander Harmon Rabb.”
Harm offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Maggie gave his hand a firm shake, then asked, “How’s Chloe doing?”
“Better than I expected,” Mac answered honestly. “I think Rick’s being here is helping.”
“Well, good. I was wondering if you two and Chloe would like to come over to my place for some lunch.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Mac told her with a smile. “Thank you.”
~*~*~*~*
1749 (5:49 p.m.)
Madison Residence
Outside of Burlington, Vermont
Harm stuffed his dark blue shirt into his suitcase to join the jeans, sweatpants, and socks that were already packed. He zipped the suitcase closed and carried it into the living room, where he set it down beside his duffel bag.
“Done packing yet?” Mac asked from her perch on the couch.
“Mm-hmm.” He studied his baggage thoughtfully. “I don’t think I forgot anything.”
“If you did, I’ll just bring it back with us next week.”
“OK.” Harm sighed and sank into the recliner.
“Tired?”
“A little,” he answered, closing his eyes. “Wish I had time for a nap before we leave for the airport.”
“You’ll be able to get some rest on the plane.” Mac rose and walked over to the window, where she stood staring at the scenery.
“That’s true.” He opened his eyes. “What?” he asked, noticing that she had a faraway look on her face.
She turned to him and asked suddenly, “Want to go on a walk?”
Harm flashed her a genuine Rabb grin. “Sure.”
~*~*~*~*
Five Minutes Later
They set out across the meadow that stretched behind the house to the hills in the distance, eventually leading to the mountains beyond. It was only a few minutes before Harm put an arm around Mac’s shoulders, and she responded by wrapping an arm around his waist. They walked in that manner silently, enjoying the cool weather and the occasional breeze.
Autumn was in full swing, and the leaves on the trees had turned into brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow. The sky was a vivid blue, and the edge of the horizon was just starting to turn red with the approach of dusk.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Harm admitted, watching a hawk fly overhead.
“I know what you mean,” Mac told him. “I love it here.”
They continued on, each lost in their own thoughts. Harm’s mind went to the night before, after he’d gone back to bed. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about the question Mac had asked him, and the more he’d thought about it, the more it seemed that he’d already reached a conclusion. In fact-
“Harm?” Mac asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for coming up here with us.” Mac gazed up into his eyes.
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Silence took over again, and Harm returned to his previous train of thought. Chloe had opened up to him more during the few days they’d been in Vermont than she ever had in her life. It was obvious that she trusted him, and he found that he was growing more and more attached to her each day. And as much as he hemmed and hawed around it, the fact was that he’d basically made up his mind. Truth be told, his decision had been made from the start. Now, all he had to do was figure out the right time to tell Mac. Well, there IS no time like the present, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath. “Mac?”
BEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEP. A mechanical sound rang through the air, shattering the stillness. His cell phone. Crud. He stopped and pulled it from his jacket pocket. “Rabb,” he said into the receiver, doing his best not to growl at the person who dared to call him at such an inappropriate time.
“Harm, it’s Sturgis. Sorry to bother you, buddy, but you never called me about a ride back from the airport. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, that’d be great. Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier.”
“No problem, just wanted to make sure. When are you landing?”
Harm gave him the time.
“OK, then, I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“All right.” Harm snapped his phone shut.
“We’d better get back to the house,” Mac told him. “It’s about time to head out.”
Harm checked his watch. “Yeah, you’re right.” So much for telling Mac his decision - they didn’t have enough time now. However, another idea popped into his mind, and a grin slowly spread over his face. “You feeling up to a run, Marine?”
“Sure.” A mischievous smile spread over Mac’s features. “Loser’s next breakfast has to be the same style cuisine as the winner’s.”
Harm shuddered at the thought of fast food breakfast sandwiches; he’d have to go on a weeklong diet afterwards. “Ready?”
She bent her knee, ready to spring. “Set.”
“Go!”
~*~*~*~*
2018 (8:18 p.m.)
Burlington International Airport
Burlington, Vermont
“Well, this is where we leave you,” Mac told Harm. She, he, and Chloe were standing in the lobby of the airport, and it was just about time for Harm to make his way to the terminal.
Harm set his bags down, opening his arms to Mac. She walked into his embrace, and he hugged her closely. “Bye, Mac.”
He then leaned down to hug Chloe, who wrapped her arms around his neck. “See you later, kiddo.”
“Bye,” she replied. “Say hi to Sergei for me.”
“OK,” he answered with a smile.
“Call me tomorrow morning,” Mac told him. “And don’t forget to pick up an egg and cheese biscuit for breakfast,” she reminded him with a sly grin.
Harm rolled his eyes. “I will.” He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and picked up his suitcase. “See you next week.”
“Bye,” they called, and watched as he disappeared into the crowd.
