What You Want Most
Chapter Eleven
Mac peeked her head inside Harm’s hospital room. “Hi, Harm.”
“Mac,” he said, looking toward the door at the sound of her voice.
“You up for some company?”
“Sure,” he said, raising the head of his bed up just a little.
“I brought Sam,” she said, wheeling in the stroller. “He just fell asleep so we’ll have some quiet time.”
Harm looked down at the sleeping baby. He hadn’t seen him very much since his birth four months ago. “He’s beautiful, Mac.”
Touched by Harm’s words, she smiled tentatively. “Thanks.”
He looked up at her then, their gazes locking for a long moment, the air filled with tension and longing. Mac’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For?”
“For saying no.”
“Then change your mind.”
They continued to stare at each other for a few more moments, until Mac sighed. “I wish I could, Harm, but it’s too late.”
“It’s that pastor, isn’t it?”
Mac hugged herself and looked down at Sam before looking back up at Harm. “It wasn’t, Harm. I swear,” she pleaded with him to believe her.
He nodded. “And now?”
She nodded, unable to say the words, but held up her left hand to show him the ring.
He closed his eyes against the hurt, thankful that his physical pain would dull the emotional pain.
“Harm...” Her voice wobbled. “I’m sor--”
“Don’t be sorry, and don't say it,” he said, not opening his eyes.
She nodded. “I guess I’d better go.”
Harm didn’t reply.
Mac wiped the moisture from her cheeks with a trembling hand and then pushed the stroller from the room.
Moments later, at Harm’s call, Patty came in. She had noticed how upset his visitor had been when she left. “What can I do for you?”
“Can I get that shot now?” he asked, his voice husky. “And no more visitors.”
Patty nodded. “I’ll be right back.” She was back in a few minutes with a syringe and an alcohol prep pad.
Harm gingerly rolled to his side, exposing his boxer covered six. Patty tugged his waistband down and swabbed the fleshy part of Harm’s hip. “Here comes the stick,” she warned gently.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he rolled onto his back again.
“No problem. You need anything else?”
Harm closed his eyes and shook his head.
“The Demerol won’t cure a broken heart,” she said gently.
Harm opened his eyes and looked into her sympathetic gaze. “No, but it’ll ease the pain for awhile.”
Patty smiled and patted Harm’s hand. “Sweet dreams.”
Harm snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Harm awoke to the sound of a crying baby. He rolled out of bed and stumbled into the nursery. What time was it anyway? He pressed the button on his watch and tried to focus on the hands and numbers. Ugh...zero-zero-forty-six.
“Sshhh... Michaela...” He spoke over the baby’s cries. Her large blue eyes swam with tears and she reached her chubby arms out to him.
“Not again, Michaela,” he said, lifting her from the butterfly laden crib. He cradled her against his chest and began bouncing her and jiggling and pacing. “Honey, please stop crying. Daddy needs sleep.”
“Mum, mum, mum...” the nine-month old cried.
“Mommy’s at work, sweetheart. How about a song?” Harm moved to the rocking chair and sat down. Over Michaela’s wails, he began to sing. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, daddy’s going to buy you a mockingbird...”
He held her close to his chest and the deep timbre of his voice finally got her attention. “And if that mockingbird don’t sing, daddy’s going to buy you a diamond ring...”
The baby gradually quieted and Harm lowered his voice incrementally. With a few mild shuddering breaths, Michaela finally relaxed and dropped her head to Harm’s chest. Harm continued to rock and sing until they both drifted off to sleep.
“Harm, wake up.” A familiar voice gently called his name.
He blinked as he awoke and focused on the face in front of him. “Abigail?” he asked groggily.
“Yes, it’s me, Harm,” she said.
“What time is it?”
“It’s a little after one am,” she said.
“Did you just get home?”
“Home?” she asked, confused.
Harm looked around and realized that he was still in the hospital. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming,” he explained. “You woke me up at the same time I was being woken up in my dream.”
She nodded.
“You said one am?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Why did you wake me up?” he wanted to know.
“I was getting worried about you. Patty said you’d been asleep since about four-thirty yesterday afternoon.” As she spoke, she took his vitals and logged them on his chart. “Patty told me you were asking for me.” She didn’t mention that Patty had also told her about Mac’s visit and her emotional departure. But she didn’t mention it.
He nodded. “You said we’d talk.”
“I’m surprised you remember. The Demerol was flowing pretty well. You were going to tell me how many times you’d been saved.”
“And you said that that’s not what you were talking about.”
“It wasn’t,” she agreed with a nod. “So, how many times have you been saved?”
“Too many,” he replied. He shrugged as if it were no big deal and said, “Six.”
“All from plane crashes?” she asked, feigning only mild interest. Inside, she blanched at the implications.
“Mac told you?”
“Only that you’re also a pilot.”
“Actually, only three times from plane crashes--”
“Only three?”
Harm nodded. “Once from a crazed corpsman on a submarine, and twice from myself.”
“Sound like you have some interesting stories to tell,” Abigail said mildly.
Harm shrugged again. “Maybe... What were you talking about?”
“Being saved from an eternity in hell.”
Harm was a little taken aback. “You think I’m going to hell? You don’t even know me.”
“All I need to know is if you’ve ever accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?”
“I believe in God and the Bible,” he said, defensively, remembering one of his and Mac’s conversations.
“That’s great, Harm, but do you know what the Bible says about salvation?” she asked pointedly.
Harm shook his head.
“Do you want to know?”
Harm shrugged again. “What does this have to do with why Mac wouldn’t marry me?”
“Mac,” she said, not liking the masculine moniker for her friend, “accepted Christ. She got saved and became a believer. Not only in Christ, but in what the Bible says. And,” she continued gently, “the Bible says that Christians should not marry non-Christians. It was so hard for her, Harm. Honestly. She loves you very much. But if you are not a Christian, she did the right thing.”
Harm turned away from her and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear it.
Softly she said, “Ecclesiastes 3:4 ‘A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.’ ” Harm didn’t respond. “If you need anything else, just call.”
Harm nodded curtly. Only the slight squeak of her shoes on the tile told him she’d left his room. He opened his eyes and a lone tear slid down his cheek.
~*~
Monday morning, following the JAG A Thon, Mac arrived at headquarters early. She checked her voice and email messages but found nothing exciting and nothing from Aaron. Not that she really expected to hear from him. She grabbed her briefcase and headed for the bullpen. “Coates, I won’t be back into the office until late this afternoon. I have a couple of interviews to conduct down at Norfolk.”
“Aye, aye, Ma’am,” the petty officer responded crisply. “Have a safe trip, Colonel.”
Mac nodded in response and walked to the elevators. Once she passed the rush hour of downtown Falls Church and got onto the open road of Highway 95, Mac’s thoughts drifted to Aaron and what had happened between them Saturday night.
She groaned again in frustration. She picked up her cell phone and dialed Abigail’s number.
“Hello?”
“Abigail, it’s Sarah. Can we talk?”
“Um, sure, Sarah. Where are you? What’s going on?”
“I’m on my way to Norfolk, right now,” she explained. “It’s Aaron. Something happened and I don’t know what to do.”
“Is Aaron in Norfolk?” Abby asked, slightly confused.
Mac chuckled. “No. As far as I know Aaron is wherever he normally should be right now. I have a couple of interviews down there. I’m driving.” Mac got quiet for a moment. “I love him, Abby. More than anything. I don’t want to lose him.”
Abby was relieved to hear this. She knew Aaron was a little blind due to the depth of his own feelings for the other woman, but she was finally convinced that God had brought Aaron and Sarah together. She didn’t want to lose Sarah as a friend or a sister-in-law over a misunderstanding. “I know, Sarah. Have you prayed about it?”
“No, not really,” Mac admitted. “I guess I should have thought of that right away, huh?”
“Well, after going it alone for so long, sometimes it’s hard for new Christians to remember to pray about everything. Why don’t you keep your eyes on the road, but lift up everything that’s in your heart to God. He’ll show you the way.”
The two women rang off and Mac thought about what Abigail had said. Aaron had insisted for so long that he was certain it was God who’d brought them together. Surely God hadn’t played a huge joke on them both. God had allowed this to play out for a reason, right?
Feeling a little more confident, Mac finally laid her hurts, her fears, her uncertainty, and everything else at the Lord’s feet.
Help me, Lord. I love this man. I want to marry this man. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.
She poured out her heart for most of the rest of her trip. A few tears trickled down her cheeks, but by the time she reached Norfolk, Mac felt more at peace than she had before. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew that she and Aaron would make up and eventually be married.
The interviews ended up taking a little longer than anticipated with one needing to be postponed until the following morning. She would have to spend the night at Norfolk’s VOQ. She called the admiral and then Tabitha to make sure it was okay for Sam to stay overnight. She thought about calling Aaron, but wasn’t quite sure what to say yet.
~*~
Mac wandered around her room in the VOQ. Despite having cable, there was nothing on TV worth her time. Her thoughts wandered all the way back to Mic and the ebb and flow of their relationship. What had killed it? Her feelings for Harm. Feelings that she had never really explored or dealt with. She didn’t want that to happen again. But it wouldn’t. Because she had dealt with them. She’d been given a chance to explore them and found that a relationship with Harm wasn’t all it should have been. At least not for her. And then Sam happened. And then God. And then Aaron. And she didn’t want to lose him. What would it take to keep him? An apology? Groveling? Begging? She’d do whatever it took.
~*~
The drive back to DC was uneventful. Mac prayed on and off the whole way. As she neared the beltway, the need to see Aaron and talk to him overwhelmed her. Unfortunately, she would have swing by the office first to check in. Her cell phone rang as she neared the exit for headquarters.
“MacKenzie.”
“Colonel, if you were planning on coming in to the office, don’t,” boomed Admiral Chegwidden. “The building is being evacuated due to some gaseous fumes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she said, and continued past the Falls Church exit. She ended the call and threw the phone into her purse. “And thank you, God.”
It took her another ten minutes to reach the church. She hurried into the church offices and headed straight for Aaron’s office. “Is he here?” she called to the receptionist as she passed through.
“Yes, but--”
“No buts. I have to see him,” Mac said firmly.
Aaron, having heard her voice came rushing from his office and gently took hold of her arms. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Is it Sam?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Sam’s fine. I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m so sorry. I love you, Aaron. Please forgive me.” Tears threatened, but she fought them.
He looked into her eyes, reading the emotions swirling and churning inside her. She came to me, asking forgiveness for something that was partly my fault. She didn’t even point a finger in my direction.
Aaron swept her into his arms. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Sarah,” he said into her hair. “I behaved badly, but, as sure as God is on His throne, I need you so badly. Can you forgive me?”
She began to laugh. “Oh, yes.”
He looked into her eyes again. “Will you still marry me?”
She nodded. “Oh, thank you, God, YES!” And, finally, the tears spilled down her cheeks.
~*~
Harm remained in the hospital for a week and had another couple of weeks of medical leave before the doctor would clear him to return to duty.
About halfway through his leave, Harm sat at his computer reading the Navy Times Online, bored out of his mind.
All his co-workers had called or stopped by. Except Mac. Not that she hadn’t called, because she had. But she had this uncanny knack for calling while he was out running errands or in the shower. She always left a pleasant message, but one that never encouraged him to call her back.
Harm was startled by the ring of the telephone at his elbow. He picked it, half-hoping, half-fearing it was Mac. “Rabb.”
“Hello, Commander,” said a pleasant female voice. Not Mac, but still familiar. “This is Abigail Vawter. I was one of your nurses while you were in the hospital.”
Harm nodded. “Hello, Ms. Vawter. What can I do for you?”
“Oh. Well, I was just calling to see how you were doing?”
“Is this an official call, Ma’am?” Harm asked, curious. The hospital had called just a few hours ago to check up on him.
Abigail blushed even though he couldn’t see her. “No, not really. It’s just that...you’ve been on my mind and, as I said, I wanted to see how you were.”
“Well, physically, I’m fine. I went in yesterday. Everything is healing up nicely,” he told her, smiling into the receiver.
“And other than physically?” she asked.
“I’m bored silly,” he admitted. “I’m not used to just sitting around healing.”
Abigail chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose you are. How about a Slurpee from 7-11?” she asked, shocking herself. The invitation had just slipped out.
“A Slurpee?” Harm asked, also surprised.
“Well, it’s really too hot for coffee, don’t you think?”
He smiled. “I suppose so.”
“Great. There’s a 7-11 on the corner of Massachusetts and 12th Street. See you in twenty minutes.” She hung up before she could change her mind.
Harm looked at the dead receiver for a moment before hanging it up. Then he grabbed his keys and headed out.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the 7-11 parking lot. Abigail stood waiting near the door. Her honey-blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and the melon color of her sundress complimented her tanned skin.
“Hello, Commander,” she said with a smile.
“If we’re gonna share Slurpees, I think you need to call me Harm.”
“All right, Harm. Call me Abigail. Shall we?” She pulled open the door and preceded him inside. Abigail took a deep breath. He was wearing a pair of dark green nylon running shorts and a lemon yellow tank shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular arms and deep tan. A few tufts of light brown hair teased her from above the rounded neckline of his shirt. What was she thinking? “My treat,” she said to Harm, holding up a five-dollar bill. “As long as you can give me a ride home.”
Harm smiled. “My pleasure.”
Abigail’s heart skipped a couple of beats. What was she doing? You know this man is not saved. Aaron would get a good laugh at this after all the warnings she gave him about Sarah.
Once they’d gotten their treats, Harm drove Abigail home. They sat in his Corvette, top down, and chatted for what seemed like only a few minutes. Abigail finally bid him goodbye and went inside.
When Harm looked at the clock on the radio, he found, to his surprise, that a good thirty minutes had passed. He shook his head. They had talked about inconsequential things: the weather, the Orioles, Coke versus Pepsi.
It had been a long time since Harm had spent such an easy time with a woman. Any time spent with Mac had come fraught with expectations. For that matter, any time with Renee and Jordan had been the same. Harm definitely wanted to spend more time with Abigail.
But wait...wasn’t she a--how had Mac put it?--a believer? Abigail was that pastor’s sister. Chances were that she was. And yet, Harm thought, she never once tried to say any thing preachy to him. She hadn’t tried to steer the conversation toward religion or faith or God. Once again, he remembered the feeling of ease with her and smiled.