| Subject: Fortress, Part 3 |
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lauraloo
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Date Posted: 13:34:05 07/31/02 Wed
In reply to:
lauraloo
's message, "Fortress, Part 1" on 13:21:02 07/31/02 Wed
1630 Local
JAG HQ
Harm couldn’t believe he was doing this. But he did it anyway; his voice light, dancing around each phrase. “Harriet, just…well, just hypothetically speaking, when a woman says she needs, uh…space and just wants to be left alone to, you know, just figure things out, does she really mean it? What I mean is, just how far away should one be expected to stay?”
It took every ounce of resolve for Harriet Beaumont Simms Roberts to keep a straight face. It was enough that Commander Rabb was actually asking for her advice on women. But hypothetical her foot! This little secret summit they were having was entirely about a certain Marine Colonel. And that realization nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. However, the Commander was clearly in distress over this and she had to keep from totally embarrassing him. She suddenly became thankful for those acting classes she’d taken in college. “Well, Commander,” she offered prudently, “that answer would depend upon the individual woman you were referring to. But since we’re, you know, just speaking hypothetically,” she paused, noting the instant relaxation of his features, “I’d say that a person in the situation you described should respect the wishes of the, uh, woman in question. However, most women do appreciate simple, kind gestures that let them know that the, uh certain person is still thinking about them.” She raised her eyebrows.
Harm tilted his head, “You mean, such as flowers or cards?”
Harriet nodded in a scholarly fashion, “Those are generally favorable, Commander, although slightly overused. Finding something more personal to the, uh, particular woman might prove to be a more poignant and heartfelt gesture, and therefore, more well-received. Just hypothetically, of course.”
Harm rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Yes, of course. Well, thank you, Harriet. This conversation has been quite enlightening. And I’ll see you and Bud later?”
Harriet rose from the chair. “We’ll be looking forward to it, sir,” she replied, exiting through the open door. Once back at her desk, she shielded her laughter with an open file folder, shaking her head in disbelief. Did that just actually happen? Who would’ve thought that having a simple conversation with Commander Rabb would’ve so desperately called for the assistance of a secret decoder ring?
1400 Local
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA
Mac and Trish had moved indoors, sitting on the overstuffed sofa in the family room. “I guess it all started after Bud’s accident,” Mac began softly. “Harm told you what happened, right?”
Trish nodded. “Yes, he called the day he returned to D.C. It was such a terrible tragedy. And his poor family.”
“I began to have the same recurring nightmare.” Mac paused, knowing the affect the words she was about to reveal would have on Trish. “For some reason, I’ve been dreaming about the day you found out about Harm’s father. And the dream has been so clear, so detailed. At first, I couldn’t see your face, but I always assumed it was you who’d answered the door to receive the news. But then, a few weeks ago, when the dream came again…Trish, it was me at the door. It was my face.”
Trish closed her eyes, letting Mac’s words, her agony flow through her. It was tragic enough that she, herself, had lived through the reality of that moment; a moment she’d never wish on her greatest enemy, even in dreams. “Mac, I’m so sorry. That must have scared you so much.”
“It still does. I can’t get over this feeling, this fear that something might happen to him.” She rose, pacing the floor.
“Is this because you have a way of seeing things, like when you found Harm’s location in the ocean after his crash?”
“That’s part of it. But, it’s more than that. God, Trish, this is a horrible thing to say to you, being Harm’s mom,” she hesitated, tears filling her eyes.
“Oh, Mac, Please don’t worry about me. You need to get this out. It’s already given you so much pain.”
That, Mac could not deny. “Trish, do you realize how many times Harm has cheated death? It’s like he’s invincible. He stepped on a mine. He heard the click that every soldier, every marine prays to God he’ll never hear. But, he got away. We got away. And what’s worse, we joked about it. We looked death right in the eyes and laughed at it.” Mac stopped, tears running down her face. She tasted the bitter bile of each word as she said it. But as each word escaped her mouth, she was also surprised to feel a tiny piece of the burden lift within her. And so, she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “Trish, he’s spent his whole adult life laughing at death. I just get this feeling that one day, maybe soon, death is gonna say enough is enough…and bite back.”
Trish’s eyes were now brimming with tears. How she understood the pain of this woman. The confusion. She rose to meet her, enveloping her in a motherly embrace.
Saying nothing. Saying everything.
“Yes, Trish, I love him. I love him so much. And after all that Harm and I have been through, he’s finally ready. But, I feel like it’s almost inevitable, like he’s plumb out of second chances. And I don’t know if I could handle the reality of that dream if it happened. I just don’t think I could survive it being me at the door…holding my babies in my arms…”
Trish pulled away, leading both of them back to the sofa. “I know, dear. I understand completely what you’re saying. But, you need to ask yourself, could you survive a life without loving him, without being with him?”
Mac bowed her head in contemplation, taking deep breaths. The answer was right in front of her, inches beyond her grasp. But so was the fear.
Trish thought long and hard about what she was about to say. She knew what the telling of it might do to Mac, who was already dealing with so much. And also, she knew what it would do to herself, even after all these years. But it was worth it. Her son was worth it. “Mac, I need to tell you about that day…”
Mac raised her voice in protest, shaking her head.
“No, don’t worry. This needs to be said. For both of us.” At her reluctant nod, Trish began. “As a Navy wife, I was forced to make uncertainty itself my companion while Harm’s father was at sea. Sure, I was part of the clubs, the support groups they had for other wives. While I was always told not to live in fear, I was also told to be prepared that sometime, something might happen. I thought I’d done that. I thought I had found peace in that uncertainty. But Mac, that day proved me so wrong.”
At Trish’s pause, Mac rose again, walking to the window, setting her focus on the rise and all of the tide against the rocks. But still listening.
“I woke up to just an ordinary day. It was Christmas Eve and I was in the process of baking a pie to take to Christmas dinner at a friend’s house. The extent of my worries being, had I kneaded the dough well enough? Would little Harm want cereal or eggs for breakfast? Would green or blue socks match better with his outfit? And for years after those men came to my door, I thought, how wonderful, how utterly luxurious those petty concerns had been. Those beautiful, ordinary aspects of the life I knew and loved. I suffered in such raw agony over my husband. And dammit, I wanted that simple life back. I ached for the joy I had lost. I was so young and I felt so cheated and, most of all, I knew how cheated Harm would be. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared me for that.”
Mac was crying again, both for the loss this woman had endured, and for the woman she saw before her. So elegant, so strong. “But you survived.”
“Damn right I did. It took every ounce of strength I had, but I did it. And not only that, I managed to find happiness and love a second time.”
Mac turned towards Trish, her next question burning a hole in her heart, everything resting on its answer. “Trish, would you…would you do it again? Knowing what you know now, what you’d be forced to endure, would you have married Harm’s father?”
Trish sighed at the sheer magnitude of the question. “That is something I’ve asked myself for over thirty years. And, as the seasons of my life changed and shifted, so did the answer. But now, after all this time, it’s finally clear. Yes, I would’ve done it all again. Every minute.”
Mac’s eyes opened wide at this revelation.
“Mac, that’s why I told you about that day. I’d do it a thousand times again just to experience the enormity of his love. It was a love so incredible, so magnificent, that I still feel it within me, even after all these years. It’s like his love is on an eternal time-release, dripping steadily into my heart and soul. And it doesn’t even matter that I have Frank now. Harm’s love still touches me. Every single day. And Mac, that love also lives on in another way, just as strong. Through his son.”
Mac thought about Harm; his face, his voice, his heart. “I know. God, I know. But it’s so crazy for me to feel this way. I’m a Marine. I’m supposed to know how to face fear and conquer it. Rise above it. But just look at me.”
Trish moved to stand in front of Mac. “Now, you listen to me, Sarah Mackenzie. I am looking at you. And what I see is a damn fine Marine. You’ve more than proven yourself worthy of those oak leaves on your collar. But you being a Marine doesn’t automatically negate the woman inside of you; the woman who has the right, just like any other human being, to be afraid. Maybe this is part of why this is hurting you so much. It’s okay to be afraid, Mac. Respect your fear, honor it,” she paused, softening her tone, “but don’t let it keep you from the joy. Don’t let it rob you of life, of the love that’s right in front of you. You can even give the fear its own little place, deep inside of you. Hold it there. But please, let it be your love that fills up every other place in your heart. Focus on that love, and I guarantee, the space that fear takes up will shrink a little bit, every day. Put love first, Mac.”
With these words, Mac knew instantly where Harm had learned the fairy tale he’d told her at his apartment. And she also knew why he’d told it. It had all been for her. And as quickly as she’d felt the fear rise within her so many weeks before, as quickly as she’d felt the loss of ownership of her body, her mind, it all began to come back to her. Trish’s words had breathed life into the parched crevices of her heart, her soul. The healing process had begun.
Trish looked at the woman standing in front of her; her pensive gaze, the way she hugged her arms against her chest. Yes, she was going to be okay. The comfort, the words she’d offered had indeed burrowed themselves inside of Mac’s mind. But it would be a slow and steady recovery. One that she shouldn’t have to go through alone. “Mac, I have an idea. Why don’t you stay here through the weekend?”
Mac shook her head, “Oh, Trish, you’ve done so much for me already. I just couldn’t impose.”
“Nonsense. Frank is out of town, in London for another week. And to tell you the truth, it can get a bit lonely in this house all by myself. Besides, do you mean to tell me that you’d rather pass up my beautiful guest suite, with its own private veranda and ocean view, for the VOQ?”
Mac cracked a small smile. “Well, since you put it that way…”
“Good,” Trish interrupted. “Why don’t you go back to the base and fetch your things. Use the drive to let everything sink in. Come back when you’re ready and I’ll take you into the village for dinner, or whatever you’d like to do.”
Mac wiped her tear-stained face with a tissue. She gave Trish one final hug before moving towards the door.
Two Days Later
0730 Local
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA
Mac stood outside the veranda to her room, stretching her legs after a morning jog on the beach. She wondered what Harm would think of her being here. In his old house. Hanging out with his mother! Mac was truly enjoying her time with Trish. They’d spent the previous few days walking along the beach, talking for hours over tall glasses of iced café mochas, and spending entirely too much money in the fashionable boutiques in the nearby village. But Trish had also given her plenty of time alone, to relax and ponder her situation, to think about Harmon Rabb Jr. And once she’d started, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She missed him terribly, and the simple missing of him gave her hope. She no longer felt the cruel need to avoid him, to shield her heart from him. The fear was still there, crying out for attention like a spoiled child. But Trish’s words ran through her mind over and over, giving her something to cling to. And to focus on.
Could you survive a life without loving him?
Mac was startled by a soft knocking. She moved through the French doors and was slightly taken aback by what she was faced with when she opened her door. Trish was standing there, eyes red from crying. She was holding something in her hand.
“Trish, are you all right?”
She took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “Yes. Yes I am. Sometime, in the midst of one of our conversations the last couple of days, it hit me. All this talk about letting go, about not giving into fear made this old woman realize that it was high time she start taking her own advice.”
At Mac’s confused expression, Trish placed something in her hand, closing her fingers over the worn paper.
“Oh, Trish,” Mac whispered, as she realization hit her, “the envelope from Harm’s father.”
Trish nodded. “Put in it your luggage. Sergei needs it far more than I do.”
A gentle smile formed on Mac’s face. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Trish let out a deep, cleansing breath. “I know it, and hopefully, in about eight hours, so will you,” she said, suddenly raising her eyebrows.
“What? But my flight to Andrews doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, unless you need the guest room, or you think I ...”
“No, she interrupted, “it’s not that at all. In fact, having you here, getting to know you like this has been so wonderful. Now I see why my son loves you so much. Mac, don’t say anything. A mother knows these things. Besides, he called late last night. Of course I didn’t tell him you were here, but we did have the most peculiar conversation. He was trying his damndest to get advice from me, all the while, speaking in these ridiculous general terms. But, I understood everything completely. He’s lost without you. Even from three thousand miles away, I sensed it in the tone of his voice, in his words. Mac, he needs you. Back home, where you belong.”
Mac nodded slowly. “I know. I think I need to be there too. I owe him an explanation.”
Trish brightened. “Good, because your flight leaves in three hours.”
“What?”
“There’s a first class ticket waiting for you at the United Airlines counter. And it’s a direct flight too.”
“Trish, you didn’t…”
“Oh, yes I did. Forget that god-awful transport plane. And there’ll be a limo waiting to take you to Andrews to pick up your car. Now, I do believe I’ve just about reached my meddling quota. So, the rest is up to you. I’m going to scoot now so you can start packing.”
Mac stopped her with a sudden, warm embrace. “Thank you, for sharing your home and your heart with me. And one more thing,” she paused, looking this woman straight in the eyes, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much for your son.”
The particular son in question was the subject of Mac’s thoughts for the entire trip back to D.C. And as she pulled up to her apartment, hours later, she was overcome with the need to see him. Again, she heard the words. Felt them.
Could you survive a life without loving him?
The answer had grown in clarity, in intensity as each hour had passed. But she knew, before she could go to him, there was something else she needed to do first.
She spent less than ten minutes in her apartment, stopping only to drop off her luggage and change into black Capri pants and a celery green halter top. And then she was off; before she could convince herself that this wasn’t necessary. That this didn’t need to be done.
2000 Local
Roberts Residence
Rosslyn, VA
“Ma’am, what a nice surprise!” Harriet remarked brightly, inviting Mac in.
“I’m sorry for not calling first. I just got home from the airport.” Mac set her purse on the entry table near the door.
Harriet’s face fell slightly. “I hope nothing’s wrong…”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just…I really need to talk to Bud.”
“Well, of course. He’ll be delighted to see you. He’s in our bedroom. Just go on in.”
Mac knocked softly on the open door, the sight before her nearly bringing tears to her eyes. Bud was standing with the aid of crutches, and doing a pretty good of it at that.
“Ma’am, hi. It’s good to see you. What brings you by?” He leaned on his crutches, rocking back and forth on his right leg.
Mac hesitated a bit, choosing her words carefully. “There’s just a little something I need to get off my chest. And please drop the ma’am business.”
Bud nodded, using the end of his crutch to point to the bed. “Have a seat. Forgive me for not joining you, but my physical therapist wants me up and around as much as possible.”
Mac shook her head in wonder. “Bud, I’m so pleased. You’re looking really great. I’m truly proud of what you’ve accomplished. But,” she halted, her voice shifting to a nervous whisper,” I haven’t been very proud of myself lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever since I returned home, I’ve been really selfish. I should have been there for you; visiting at the hospital, helping out more with A.J, just supporting you. I’m really sorry. What happened out there really got to me. But instead of talking about it, I shut off everyone. I’ve been a real bear lately and I let my guilt and my own fears stand in the way of our friendship. I hope you can forgive me.”
Bud remained silent for a minute, then spoke, steadily and sincerely. “I’ll do better. I’ll thank you. Coming here like this, I know how hard it must have been for you. But you can’t know how much I appreciate you just being, you know, real. Most people don’t know quite how to treat me- they walk around here on eggshells, like I’m gonna break or something.”
Mac let out a sigh of relief, laughing lightly. “Bud Roberts, you want real? You just get your Navy butt back in that office where you belong. You’re gonna be swimming in real!”
Bud joined in the laughter. “I hope so, Mac.”
“And Bud,” she said tenderly, rising from the bed, “you’re nowhere even close to being broken.”
Mac made the drive back to her apartment, enjoying the tranquility, listening to the steady growl of the engine. And she was alone; finally free of the haunting alter-ego, of the relentless ache in her head that had plagued her life, her sanity. Soft raindrops fell, skipping along her windshield, just barely enough to require her wiper blades to run at the lowest setting. Rain of this type and during this season was a common occurrence; actually a welcome occurrence that served to slightly release the air from the thick and sticky grasp humidity had placed on it. But as she turned down her street, finding a fortuitous space right in front of her building, the sight before her was nothing even close to common.
At first she thought she was seeing things. Maybe it was all due to the exhaustion, the jet lag she’d felt after stepping off the plane. And so she exited the Vette; standing at the curb, letting the gentle mist wash over her as she turned her face upward for a closer look. No, she hadn’t been hallucinating. It was real.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did a little of both as she gazed up at her window. A burning candle sat on the inside ledge, its flickering flame mixing with the golden glow of the street lamps, casting just enough light to illuminate the items fastened to her window. She recognized both of these items immediately; a navy blue hooded sweatshirt with the word ‘Annapolis’ printed on the front, and tied around the hood, right at the neck, was one of her silk scarves. She ran up the stairs, flinging open the door, rushing to the little display at her window. With tears still flowing, she unfastened the scarf, and even though it was still eighty degrees outside, she pulled on the oversized sweatshirt, closing her eyes as she inhaled the faint trace of cologne imbedded in the fabric.
Savor each moment…put love first.
His words filled the room, filled her heart like music. And she marveled at the wonder of it all; that after the words they’d shared, even after she’d been so harsh, so closed, he hadn’t run. He hadn’t given up.
Mac’s internal clock noted the late hour and her original intention had been to see him first thing in the morning. But he’d taken such a risk here. He’d risked his pride and his heart and if she knew Harm, he was probably going out of his mind, agonizing over every detail. At that, she grabbed the scarf and ran back down to her car. She just didn’t care that she was tired, or that it was late. She was doing this for him. She was doing this for them.
2200 Local
Rabb Residence
A million thoughts ran through the head of Harmon Rabb Jr. Nearly ten times, he’d set forth towards the door, keys in his hand, ready to go back over there and undo what he’d done. It was too much. It was way too soon. She’d hate it. It would put her in a crazy fit of rage and he’d wake up to shredded pieces of his sweatshirt littered all over the entrance to his apartment.
But each time, he’d stopped himself. Some inane, lunatic voice inside his head told him he’d done the right thing. It was true, crazier things than this had been done before in the name of love. Just not by him. But Sarah Mackenzie was worth it. She was worth whatever class of fool this little stunt would prove him to be. He paced the floor, rubbing his aching temples. It was the waiting that killed him.
Harm was so caught up in his thoughts that only a mere sliver of his mind had taken notice to the knocking at his door. Without even looking at the clock, or even through the peep hole, his hands undid the various locks and absently turned the handle, flinging the door wide open.
Good Lord, it was her.
At once, all of the jumbled mechanical parts that made up his brain locked into place, well, except the part that controlled his mouth. That was still rendered completely useless. Good Lord, it was her. And she was wearing the sweatshirt, her face painted with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. There was nervousness in the way she bit lightly on her lip. Her eyes appeared tired and strangely apologetic. But there was a glorious, rosy glow to her cheeks that had been missing for so long. There was life there, signaling a resurrection of sorts.
“Harm,” she muttered softly, “I know it’s late, but can I come in?”
He could only nod. Yes, nodding was a good thing but words were needed here. Badly.
Mac pulled the silk scarf out from the center pocket of the sweatshirt. “It seems Lady Madeleine has misplaced her scarf.” She said, creeping through the doorway. Knots of various sizes and shapes had invaded her stomach at first sight of him. He was dressed in faded jeans and a simple black tee shirt. His feet were bare.
Harm’s prayer for words was finally answered as he turned to face her. “And you found it.”
“Yes, Harm. I did find it,” she said reflectively.
Harm’s eyes grew at her reply, entertaining the hope that her words had signaled a double meaning. “Mac, I hope you’re not upset. I know you asked for space and, well, sneaking into your apartment like that was about as clear a violation of your request as they come.”
She attempted to mask her nervousness with humor. “Aw, since when do you obey the rules anyway?”
“All right, I’ll give you that. But, it’s not like I don’t respect your wishes. You’re entitled to all the time you need to sort out whatever it is that’s going on. I did it…well; I guess I did it to show you that I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going to let you forget about me. Not this time.”
Mac simply stared at him with awe. Even after all they’d been through in the past six years, never before had he appeared so open, so vulnerable before her. She was amazed at the sheer power he’d relinquished to her very words, to her actions. It humbled her beyond belief.
There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she owed him. She’d come to his apartment armed with an arsenal of words and explanations but, suddenly a need arose in her that greatly surpassed her need to speak anything at all.
Not only could she not survive a life without loving him, she couldn’t survive another second without touching him.
And so she did.
Sarah Mackenzie walked right up to Harmon Rabb Jr., throwing her arms around his neck, settling herself in the warmth of his embrace. She closed her eyes, her senses piqued by the glorious scent of him, by the sturdy feel of him. She knew she’d taken him by surprise by the tentative way his arms had flailed about ever so slightly. But instantly, they responded; he responded, closing any remaining space between them, inviting her head to nestle in the crook of his neck.
“Please,” she finally begged, “I promise to explain. Everything, Harm. But now, I just need you. I just need to feel again.”
And he indulged her; completely, relishing it, snuggling further, deeper into her, hearing only the ragged panting of their breaths, the sharp sound of his own inhalation as he buried his face in her hair.
So sweet. Vanilla beans and almonds. So beautiful.
He read into her words, seizing this chance by slowly, cautiously turning his head. He positioned his lips barely at the parted opening of hers; pausing there, the heat of their mouths fusing as one. But it was her that had closed the final distance, made the first, timid touch of exploration. The kiss developed from there, growing from ember to blaze in a matter of seconds.
Mac broke the kiss briefly, relieving herself of the bulky sweatshirt, tossing it God knows where behind her. Harm flashed his trademark grin, drawing her towards him, his smile melting into her own once again. She heard his muffled groan as he rubbed his hands along her bare arms, her shoulders. Possessing her. Loving her.
Breathless, they reluctantly pulled apart. Mac cupped his face with her hands. How she’d managed to remember the words he’d spoken so many minutes before was completely beyond her. But she had and finally, she responded. “Harm, I could never forget about you. And, what you did, at my house, it was just unbelievable. How could I be upset?”
“Sarah Mackenzie,” Harm said with firm resolution, “you’d better not say you want more time, or space, because…after all this, I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”
She nodded in acquiescence. “Well, to quote a certain amazing sailor I happen to know, we’ve already wasted too much time. Now, my only request is that you love me as much, as deeply as I love you. If it’s not too much to ask…”
His eyes danced, heart swelled as he pulled her closer. “The hell it’s not. God, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.” He kissed her again, feeding the steadily growing addiction.
“Harm,” she said seriously, “it’s time. You need to know. And I need to explain.”
He nodded, leading her to the couch, settling her into his arms.
She told him everything, every detail; the nightmares, the fear, the visit with his mother. And she told him about the healing that had begun, that would still need to continue.
She caressed his cheek. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to tell you everything that night you came to my apartment. And when you reached out to me, finally, after all that time, it shattered me to have to back away from you. But I knew it Harm, if I’d let you touch me, or tell me your feelings or kiss me, my judgment would’ve been totally clouded.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Little innocent me could’ve clouded your judgment?” he teased.
She ruffled his hair, “Harmon Rabb Jr., there’s nothing remotely innocent about you or you’re…uh, talents. But I’m serious here,” she added pointedly.
He kissed her cheek lightly, rubbing her back. “I know, Mac. I understand now. And I’m glad you took the time you needed to sort everything out.”
She nodded, “It would’ve been so easy to just run into your arms that night. But the fear…it still would’ve been there. And who knows how that fear would manifest itself in the…,” she paused, noting the implication of her next word, “in the future.”
He took immediate notice to her uncertainty, lifting her chin with his finger. “Hey, you were correct in using that word, and you’d better get used to saying it over and over. You’d better get used to us.” He kissed her softly before speaking again in a serious tone. “Look, Mac, I totally understand about the fear. I’m not the only one with the dangerous job, you know. I’m not the only one who worries. But I’m not going to focus on how many of the nine lives either one of us has already used up. Let’s just focus on this life, this amazing gift we’ve been given.”
She grabbed his hands. “I promise, Harm.” Somehow, her silk scarf had floated to the floor near the edge of the sofa. She reached with one hand, grabbing it, fingering it lightly, weaving it in and around both of their hands. “And I promise to always put love first.”
He kissed her finger tips. “Me too.” He paused, enjoying the beauty of the moment, of this woman, before speaking again. “So tell me, what did you think of mom’s house?”
“It was incredible. But not half as incredible as she is.”
“Yeah, she’s definitely amazing. And it’s kind of ironic that she ended up being the one to help you,” Harm mused.
The mention of Trish suddenly jarred Mac’s memory. She undid her hands, bolting from the couch. “God, I can’t believe I forgot.” She rushed over to her purse, pulling out the envelope.
“Forgot what?” he inquired. And then he saw it. She placed the envelope in his hands and he looked up at her, eyes posing a thousand questions.
“Harm, I wasn’t the only one who had some letting go to do this weekend.”
He pulled her towards him, his voice dripping with stunned emotion. “I’m speechless, Mac. I’ve been trying for months to get her to send this, and now…” he kissed her forehead lightly. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I know you had a hand in this and Sergei’s going to be so relieved.”
“You want to phone him?”
He shook his head, placing the letter on the coffee table. “Calling Sergei can definitely wait until the morning,” he answered with a devious grin. “You see, there’s this particular matter, pertaining to the clouding of your judgment, that I plan on spending the rest of this night exploring.”
Mac giggled devilishly, knotting the scarf around her neck “I prefer this ending much better. The lady gets her man.”
Harm shook his head as he lowered himself over her. “Not an ending, Sarah. This is only the beginning.”
Epilogue, One Month Later:
************************************************************************
The melodious strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D resonate throughout the old stone church. A woman, draped in a white sheath of silk shantung carries a hand tied clutch of white roses and stephanotis blossoms. There is strength in the figure whose arm is linked with hers, who leads her down the petal-dusted runner. He places her hand in that of another strong figure, also clad in white, a hint of gold twinkling from his chest, twinkling in his eyes.
With both hands, he gently lifts the tulle of her fingertip veil revealing a glorious smile…
A smile. Sarah Mackenzie had woken up smiling, twirling the engagement ring around her finger. And it hadn’t been the first time. But this time she had seen it. She’d seen the face of the woman. And it was the woman she’d always imagined. It had been her own face. The woman had been her.
The End
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