| Subject: Storm Clouds Part Nine |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 12:16:35 12/10/07 Mon
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Storm Clouds" on 18:16:06 11/24/07 Sat
Storm Clouds
Part Nine
Virginia Beach
Beyond 52nd street and Ocean Front Road
1950
Harm stood on the back porch of his small, beachfront house. Once again the events of the day had made him pour a drink, not for enjoyment, but just because. He’d yet to take a sip of the brown liquid. He just stood there watching the waves and the rain.
He’d had no stomach for the property on Willoughby Spit after what had almost happened to Mac. Franks investment group offered him a fair price for the land and Wil Emerson had found this house for him through a client, before it was offered on the open market. The house wasn’t perfect, but the location was, and over time he could work on it.
Two weeks after he purchased the house, Merrick had helped him sand the floors and paint all the rooms. The real surprise happened the following week, when Mari had offered atonement for her judgment of Harm by volunteering her brother to help Harm pull up the old carpet and lay some large remnants she’d coaxed from her father. The leftover carpet was from an office complex the elder Trujillo was building. On Saturday afternoon, Harm and Ramon had installed the neutral berber in the two bedrooms. On Sunday the three men had moved his furniture from storage. It finally looked like home, but it lacked personal warmth.
He gazed trance-like at the rhythmic waves, lulled by the sheets of rain playing on the roof and the steady drip from the eaves. It was an incredible location. An old small house at the end of a group of old homes, it had been unquestionably expensive for its size. In any one of the numerous subdivisions in the area, he could have purchased a new home two or three times the size of this one. But it wasn’t size that drew him here. It was the feel of the place. He was near the ocean he loved, and the neighbors were quiet. The yard was heavily overgrown with trees, shrubs, and an insane amount of flowers. He would probably have to simplify the landscaping. He’d never been much of a gardener.
His mind kept drifting to Mac, to Merrick’s words, and then to his own fears. It was a cycle he couldn’t break. His phone rang interrupting his reverie and he rushed to answer it, hoping it was her. Exasperated, he hung up on a telemarketer, realizing it couldn’t have been Mac, she didn’t know about this place.
Determination kicked in and he carelessly put the glass down in the sink. It fell over, but to his relief it didn’t break. He rinsed the smell of bourbon away, and headed for the bedroom. Pulling a leather jacket from his closet, he grabbed his keys and wallet. The distraction of second thoughts nagged at him, but he shook them off as he headed down Atlantic Avenue towards her hotel.
He parked in the garage and entered the lobby. An indifferent desk clerk with a fixed smile called her room without success, then suggested Harm try the restaurant or the cocktail lounge. Hoping he wouldn’t find her there, he tried the bar first, and was just in time to see her walk away from a strange man with a predatory grin on his face. The restaurant host waited for her at the entrance to the dining room.
“Table for one, for Mackenzie?” he asked, just as Harm stepped up behind her.
“Make that two,” Harm requested over her shoulder.
She turned quickly and looked hard at him.
“Ma’am?” the host asked uncertainly.
“That’s fine, make it two,” Mac replied abruptly. She wouldn’t make a scene. She’d wait until they were alone to tell him to leave.
They sat silently through the normal routine of menus, glasses of water, and drink orders, before she looked at him.
“You planning to stay this time?” She nailed him with the cold question.
“Yes,” he answered firmly.
“Permanently?”
“Absolutely.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Mac, I don’t know if you’ll ever get used to me doing dumb things…”
“Harm…”
“Maybe I’ll never get used to you running, avoiding issues. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I came to be by the ocean,” she replied stiffly.
“Lousy weather for beachcombing.” he looked askance at the pounding rain. This wasn’t going well. He wasn’t saying the right things, but they were things in his head that he needed to say.
“Good. Less people on the beach,” she answered defensively. “Sometimes just being there alone when nature is happening… it can be cleansing.” She glanced out the window then back at him. Her eyes hadn’t softened. “You still didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Why? Why do you want me?”
“I’ve always wanted you. Believe me, I honestly don’t know why it didn’t work. When I think about it sometimes it seems it’s all my fault.”
She waved a dismissive hand.
“Wait,” he cautioned. “Sometimes, I think its all yours.” He smiled to soften that statement. “The truth is probably somewhere in between. Up until a few hours ago, I was firmly convinced that never seeing you again would somehow protect you.”
“And you came by this bit of wisdom how?”
“I almost got you killed twice in one case,” he leaned forward urgently. “Isn’t that enough?”
Her answer was interrupted by the delivery of their drinks and a small complimentary appetizer.
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked with exaggerated patience.
Mac glanced at the menu quickly and ordered a small steak, Harm asked for whatever fish was freshest, then handed the menu back with a polite but dismissive gesture.
“In the first place, Harm, I already explained about the fire. Webb kept us both in the dark. You thought the case was closed, and I didn’t believe my part had anything to do with you. I was trying to recover weapons and get the best conviction I could.
She held up a hand to still his protest. “If the Master Chief hadn’t been playing both ends, it wouldn’t have mattered that we had lunch. He might have made a decent plea bargain. Now he’s horribly scarred, and in prison for life. It was his choice.”
“And as for the ocean,” she continued too quickly for an interruption, “it was hardly your fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“But if…”
“I hate to disappoint you, Harm, but it wasn’t entirely because of our conversation on the plane that I was out there. I had a sticky case to try to sort out. Yes, I’ll admit I was a bit upset. You took me by surprise with your attitude.”
“I would have never have treated you that way if…”
“I know, Harm, it was Webb again. Sometimes I think he’s aptly named, he probably has a deadly spider for a heart,” she scoffed.
“He hit me hard telling me I was in the Navy all along, that he had arranged my job with the airline so I could work ‘undercover’, then having me transferred to his operation and putting me on that case. When you showed up I didn’t know if it was more of his manipulation, or just an inconvenient accident.”
“I wouldn’t believe everything he says, Harm. He takes credit for things he has no control over. I doubt even Webb can rearrange the military to suit his purposes or order a major airline to hire someone.”
“I know that now, but I needed to let you know I didn’t mean the things I said on the plane. I felt you ran into the water to avoid me.”
“I didn’t know who you were. The case I was…you could have been one of them.”
“If I hadn’t run toward you…” he insisted.
“I probably would have been so involved in my thoughts I would have still been hit by that wave, and you wouldn’t have been there to pull me out. Look, are you going to continue to beat yourself up about this forever, or are you going to let it go,” she asked impatiently.
Shocked by the harsh assessment he just stared for a full ten seconds before something useful entered his brain.
“It did come to my attention that neither of us is at the mercy of the Agency any more,” he smiled tentatively. “And that perhaps I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to explore this fire inside me that keeps burning your name on my heart.”
He swallowed hard at the dry lump in his throat. He had sounded like a cross between a Hallmark card and a country western song. She studied him for a very long moment while he painfully waited for her to tell him he was a fool.
Suddenly she giggled, Mac actually giggled. The merry tinkle from her throat broke the tension. “That’s a very romantic statement, flyboy, and very poetic, ever think of writing music?”
He blushed lightly, letting out a long breath. Her sweet smile teased him, but the softness in her eyes told him she was genuinely pleased by his sentiment.
“So who was responsible for this astute observation, Merrick?”
“What? You don’t think I could figure it out for myself?”
“Sure you could, maybe in a few years, but right now you were too busy blaming yourself for something that was Webb’s fault.”
“It wasn’t Webb’s fault, Mac. He couldn’t tell me anything. My part of the case was finished and I pulled some pretty big strings to make sure I was completely out of Webb’s sphere of influence.”
“So he was angry? It was all just another of those male power plays between the two of you?” she accused angrily. “Of course it was his fault, even if he couldn’t tell you, he could have told me. I was still on the case. He was playing everything too close like he always does. And once again, we got caught up in his schemes. You should have seen how angry the General was when he found out what happened. If it weren’t for his mother, Webb would be out of a job, maybe something worse.”
“Really caught hell, huh?” Harm looked up at her from the corner of his eye. He was trying to work out if she was angrier with him or with Webb.
“Oh boy, did he.” Mac laughed lightly, and Harm joined her in relief.
For a moment they sat silently, looking at each other, eyes meeting, then shyly drifting away, looking out the window, only to be drawn magnetically back. But the tension was nearly broken. The feeling so close to what they’d found in Annapolis that sunny Saturday. Could they really go forward from here.
“So, that old house, how did you happen to acquire it?” she asked, mostly to keep the momentum going.
“I inherited it. Long story,” he brushed it aside. He didn’t want to think about what had almost happened there.
“I have all weekend,” she suggested. “What are you going to do with the property? Are you rebuilding?”
“I sold it,” Harm stated flatly. “I couldn’t take living there with the memory of you sitting in that ambulance in the front yard. Mac I…”
Slowly she nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I bought a little place down the beach. It’s small, but quiet.” His eyes returned to the ocean outside the window, losing himself in the rhythm of falling rain, then he turned back and his eyes locked with hers. Wondering, he cocked his eyebrow in question, “Would you like to see it?”
“Yes. I would.” She formed each word softly, distinctly, expectantly.
Again their eyes held for a heartbeat, then Harm smiled, really smiled. It was a version of his flyboy smile. Not the cocky, brash, smile he’d used on the plane that day, but the more complex version she loved so well. Flirtatious, with an underlying sincerity, yet eagerly delighted, as he’d been that night on the beach when he found she was still alive.
He finally tore his gaze from her and scanned the dining room. Flagging their waiter, he made an impulsive request. “Would you please put our dinners into containers to go, and bring me the check. The lady and I are leaving.”
“Is everything all right, sir?” he inquired solicitously.
“Everything’s just fine.” Harm turned his eyes back to Mac. Reaching halfway across the table, he laid his hand palm up on the white cloth. Her hand met his and rested in the warmth she found.
Dawn
Harm’s beach house
If you listened closely, you could almost hear the trumpets and drums in the flourish of sunrise. Light seeped slowly over the horizon spreading bands of color at the edge of the world. A faint wash of pale blue soon morphed to yellow then green then orange then red and finally purple forming a rainbow to awaken morning. It lasted only moments before fading again into a soft veil of brightness. Shafts of pure sunlight streaked skyward piercing the tattered remnants of yesterday’s storm clouds, shredding and dissipating them with the promise of a new day. By noon, the sky would be a brilliant cloudless blue as only a day at the beach can offer. The storm season was nearing an end, it had been a tough one, but in its wake, it had left joy and hope.
Harm moved slightly, realizing immediately that the pillow his arm cradled was no pillow. It was Mac.
The previous evening, they had eaten their dinner on his back patio, to the music of rain falling all around them. They had talked for hours, until they were both so tired they could hardly think. He’d asked her to stay, offering a t-shirt, clean towels and his guest room. Playing the perfect host, he’d pushed open the door, and switched on the light.
Unexpectedly, she’d leaned towards him, offering her luscious lips for a kiss. He accepted the offer, nearly losing himself in her soft sweetness. With only a heartbeat to spare he pulled away before he lost control completely, and bid her a hasty good night at the door of the spare bedroom. So how did she get in here, all tangled up in his arms?
His mind searched the hours of darkness looking for an answer. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he’d tossed and turned last night wondering if he’d made the right decision. Had Mac offered an invitation that he should have accepted. Had he been right to avail himself of only what he thought she offered. Would she leave in the morning wondering if he really wanted her. Finally, he’d drifted into a restless sleep. He remembered a distant dream of Mac lying down beside him, and burrowing under the blanket. It had comforted him and he’d snuggled close to her, wrapping his arm around her. A deep gentle sleep had enveloped him and he’d slept like a baby the rest of the night. Apparently, it wasn’t a dream.
She stirred in his arms and turned to look at him. “I couldn’t sleep, is this okay?” she asked.
“It’s perfect. The way I slept last night, with you here beside me, it would be okay every night,” he replied, cradling her softly in his arms. If she was here, she must trust him. Perhaps he’d done the right thing for once.
“Maybe we can do something about that,” she offered, moving closer and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Maybe we can.” His assured tone belied the casual words, as his lips drifted gently over hers.
End
My military advisor Jan informed me there’s a nice command at Norfolk that would be perfect for Mac given her promotion. Now isn’t that just perfect.
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