~~~The Wisdom to Know the Difference~~~

0645 hours (Thursday)

Mac’s Apartment

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the windowsill gently roused Mac from the restful sleep she had finally fallen into. Her eyelids fluttered briefly before she opened them completely, attempting to adapt to the gray early morning light filtering through the curtains. She stretched slightly, wanting her body to adjust to wakefulness before getting out of bed.

Moving her arm from beneath the pillow she clutched, Mac discovered that there was something gripped tightly in her right hand. As she brought it up in front of her face, she was astonished at the sight of the phone she still held. Well, I’ve never done that before, she chuckled, figuring out fairly quickly that she had fallen asleep while still on the phone with Harm. She held it to her ear and didn’t hear anything. Only after clicking the “talk” button a few times did she realize that the battery had run down having been on all night. Mac reached over to the night stand and placed it back on the charger, hoping that the battery wasn’t completely dead, otherwise her plans for today would have to include a trip to the mall to purchase a new one.

Mac adjusted the blanket covering herself and noticed that she was still clad in her clothes from yesterday. Wonder how I managed that, she thought, trying to recall what happened after she got home from Maddie’s. The last thing she remembered was getting some aspirin and sitting on the sofa while Harm went into the kitchen to make tea. She couldn’t remember anything between that and the nightmare. Maybe Harm can fill in the details later, Mac mused.

Harm. I wonder if his phone is as dead as mine, Mac thought looking at her phone on the charger. She had contemplated calling him, but that would mean getting out of bed to use the other phone. She snuggled further under the covers, content to stay in bed for the moment. Besides, knowing Harm, he’s probably still incoherent, she thought with a smile.

Sighing, she shuddered for a split second, loosely recalling the nightmare that had terrorized her last night. Rehashing her past for Maddie had truly worked on her subconscious, manifesting itself in a dream too bizarre to even try to decipher. But, oddly enough, seven and a half hours after her passage to the dark side, she felt a sense of relief. The demons of her past that had haunted her were now gone. She remembered waking from the nightmare and calling Harm in a panic, wanting—needing—reassurance that she was alright. They didn’t talk much; she just took comfort knowing that he was on the other end of the phone, being her anchor on a stormy night.

Yesterday was a hell of a day, by her standards. Mac never had imagined that she would have to deal with her father again, especially in the context of her relationships with men. This therapy was supposed to be about her and Harm, and their inability to communicate and get along. Mac mused for a moment. Now really, what does my father have to do with Harm and me? “I guess I just don’t get it,” she said aloud.

Laying there with the covers pulled up to her chin, Mac thought about her father. She never used the word “dad” when she talked about him, because using that word would imply a parental intimacy—a connection—and she had neither with him. She tried using the word, saying it out loud, “Dad.” But it burned her tongue and tasted bitter in her mouth, so she refused to utter it in conjunction with thoughts of him again.

Momentarily lost in her memories of her father, Mac reached into the drawer of the nightstand, and pulled a worn leather wallet from amongst the papers that resided there. She hadn’t looked at it since the day she placed it there three and a half years ago. Mac turned it over in her hands, fingering its soft cowhide. Then she brought it to her nose, drinking in its musty scent. Reaching for the bedside light, she turned it on. In its soft glow, Mac opened the billfold and pulled out newspaper clippings that were stashed inside. The tattered and yellowed paper bore her image and words about her career. She looked at the mementos like they were written in a foreign language she couldn’t comprehend. Why would a man who ruined his life with alcohol and was so hell-bent on driving his family away, keep such reminders?

Father Genaro, the priest who ran the hospice where her father died, had told Mac that her father was proud of her and wanted forgiveness for his sins. Was he truly repentant or just a dying man wanting to get through the Gates of Heaven? Or was he, despite his alcoholism, just like any other father—wanting the best for his daughter and boasting of her accomplishments?

Mac didn’t have an answer. Since her father had slipped into a coma before she got there and then died, she would never know the answer to those questions plaguing her mind. The best she could do was come to terms with what it was and go on with her life. She overcame her alcoholism, but now it was up to her to overcome the lack of fatherly influence in her life.

Closing her eyes briefly, she was back in Maddie’s office, reliving the session from yesterday. She could hear Maddie’s voice declaring, “Your father never gave you the emotional security that comes from unconditional love. I believe that you are afraid of finding that unconditional love, so you settle for men you know you’ll never achieve that with.”

In the grand scheme of things, Maddie was probably right, Mac thought. She constantly felt like she was searching for something, but always came up empty-handed. But was it love or unconditional love as Maddie had named it? There were relationships over the years, some significant and some not. Other than her marital mistake with Chris, the only relationships with any significance in her life were Mic . . . and Harm.

She looked at the clippings one last time before stuffing them back where they came from in the wallet. Opening the drawer again, Mac returned it to its resting place and shut it with a thud. For the moment she was content to close the book on that chapter. She lay back against the pillows, pulling the blanket up over her body once more, seeking warmth from the chill that was dancing over her skin.

Some things were nagging at her—were there deeper feelings for Mic that got lost along the way or was I just settling for him? And Harm, where did he fit into this equation? Here was a man who she considered her one true friend—her best friend. Theirs wasn’t a relationship in the intimate sense of the word, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a relationship. She was sure that her feelings for him went deeper than that of friendship.

There seems to be a certain tension with you two.

Some.

A lot.

Look, you’re missing the point, Sturgis.

Come on, Mac.

I - I’ve never slept with him.

Is that the problem?

There is no problem.

Then why don’t you just get over it and move on?

It wouldn’t work.

Why?

Because I’m in love with him.

That little revelation to Sturgis seemed like a lifetime ago. It wasn’t like she didn’t mean it—she did. The one thing that was far from crystal clear was how Harm felt about her. He was one who always played his cards close to his chest. Occasionally he allowed her a glimpse of what could be, but at the moment of truth he always shut down.

The closest he had ever come to telling her what was in his heart was during their session with Maddie on Monday—“I wanted it to be me you were marrying, not Bugme”. Those were the words she had wanted to hear, especially that night on the Admiral’s porch, but he never said them. And now he was telling her he was afraid—afraid of losing her, afraid of hurting her. She wanted to ask him, “Am I worth the risk?” But her own fears kept her from asking that question. Mac wondered if he still had those feelings or if they were words born from a fear of losing her. And, where did they stand with each other besides being friends? For all intents and purposes, it was like they were starting over.

Yesterday was emotionally draining and the one thing that was very clear in her mind was Harm. She was distraught and he was right there with her—beside her—giving her support and being there unconditionally. Damn, there was that word again, Mac thought. “Maybe later I’ll have to get old Mr. Webster out and look up the definition,” she chuckled to herself, turning over on her side and scrunching the pillow under her head with her arms.

Same time

Harm’s apartment

Groggily, Harm rolled over onto his stomach, sliding his hands under the pillow, trying to snuggle in for a few more minutes of sleep. As he did this something fell to the floor with a thud. The sound jarred him fully awake, his eyes snapping wide open. He propped himself up on his arms and then rolled over onto his back, listening for whatever caused that noise. Deciding he must have been dreaming, he yawned and then stretched his arms above his head. Yeah, I know I should be getting up, he thought, but it feels good to just lie here, especially after yesterday.

Yesterday. Mac. Thoughts of her and her phone call to him in the middle of the night came flooding back to him in a rush. The anguish in her voice had pulled him from a deep sleep, frightening him. He had never known her to have nightmares before, at least none that she ever willingly shared with him. Whatever she dreamt about last night had terrified her enough to call him.

Worried, Harm sat up in bed and reached over to get the phone to call her, only to find it wasn’t there. Remembering the “thud”, Harm looked over the side of the bed and saw the phone lying on the floor. Dammit, I must have fallen asleep while on the phone with her. God, I hope she’s OK, he thought, quickly picking it up and putting it to his ear. He doubted she was still on the line since it was hours ago. Giving a quick listen and punching a few buttons, he found out the battery in the phone was dead. Cursing, Harm threw off the covers and quickly jumped out of bed in search of his cell phone.

****

The ringing of a phone startled Mac, shaking her from the trance she had settled into. She eyed the hand piece sitting on the charger base near her bed and realized that it wasn’t the one ringing. Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself for warmth, she sprinted into the kitchen to answer the one there before the machine would.

“Mackenzie,” she said breathlessly, grabbing the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hey, good morning,” Harm said. He was grateful that she had answered the phone and not the machine. He inwardly heaved a sigh of relief as he sunk into the chair in the living room. Even though he was anxious to find out how she was, he decided he would do his best to keep the conversation light despite the pounding of his heart in his chest.

“Well, good morning yourself,” Mac said smiling at the sound of his voice. She settled on the sofa with the phone, pulling her knees up and rewrapping the blanket securely around herself.

“Did you sleep alright?” Harm asked soothingly yet with a concerned tone. He could tell by her voice that things were better than they were last night. Although, he still wished he had stayed with her or at least gone to her last night; if not for her solace, but for his own peace of mind.

“I did, thanks to you,” Mac said, “So, your phone seems in better shape than mine.”

“Cell phone. How about yours?”

“Kitchen phone. The one in the bedroom is just a tad under the weather,” Mac said. Hearing his voice on the other end and its soothing, docile tone, she remembered how he was there for her last night, calming her. She paused, trying to find the words she wanted to say to him.

“Thanks Harm,” her voice soft and tender, the words coming from that place in her heart where she kept all her daydreams. It was all she could manage right now. Merely saying those two words didn’t seem enough to her. But at the moment, its simplicity and the emotion in her voice tugged at Harm’s heart and made him catch his breath.

Regaining his composure, he asked, “For what?” Harm knew she meant it but that didn’t mean he understood why any thanks was necessary. He was just doing what came naturally for him—caring about her.

“For being there last night for me,” she said softly.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Harm said, that little catch still in his voice. “I was worried . . . you are okay, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine now. When I finally went back to sleep, I slept like a baby.”

“Do you remember what the dream was about?” he cautiously asked, not wanting to upset her.

“Only bits and pieces. But it’s over with and hopefully it won’t happen again,” she said with a sigh, twisting the corner of the blanket around her fingers.

A bit of silence fell between them. Harm was curious about the nightmare and why it had scared her so much. He remembered asking her not too long ago if he gave her nightmares. He truly hoped that this wasn’t the case otherwise he’d never be able to forgive himself. Although he surmised that it probably had something to do with their session with Maddie. He didn’t want to push her into talking about it either. Yesterday was hard enough for her, rehashing it over and over again in all probability isn’t healthy either, he thought. Deciding that he would let her call the shots, he just simply said, “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen, okay?”

“I know Harm. Thanks.” Mac replied quietly, relieved that he understood that she needed to get past the nightmare. He knew her and understood her better than anyone ever had. And being just a phone call away comforted her more than she could ever tell him.

Changing the subject, Mac asked, “By the way, Harm. When I woke up this morning, I was still in my clothes from yesterday. Did I go to bed while you were still here?”

Harm cringed. He knew he would have to fess up sooner or later about carrying her into the bedroom. “Um, yeah. Well, actually, you fell asleep on the sofa.”

“But when I woke up I was in bed,” she stated, until it dawned on her that he might have carried her. “Harm, how did I get into bed?”

“I put you there,” he replied with a slight smile before biting his lower lip. Here it comes, he thought, bracing himself for the ‘what the hell were you thinking’ lecture.

“Pretty brave for a squid, aren’t you?” she laughed. “Weren’t you the least bit worried that I’d wake up and kick your six?”

“Not for a moment,” he laughed, enjoying hearing the sound of amusement in her voice. It was like coming home to him. For the first time in what seemed like forever, they seemed to be on the same page of the same book.

Hearing her soft chortling die down he asked, “So, now that you’re awake, any plans for today?”

“Other than a shower, I really haven’t thought about it.”

“What do you think about breakfast,” he asked.

“It’s my favorite meal of the day. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s a great diner over in Arlington. If it’s alright, I could pick you up.”

Oh my God, his car! It suddenly hit Mac that he had driven her home and left his car at Maddie’s office. “Harm—your car! I forgot you drove me home last night. Did you ever get it?”

“Yeah, Sturgis came by after I put you to bed,” Harm replied then blushed at his choice of words.

“He didn’t help, did he?” Mac asked, only half jokingly.

Harm laughed and shook his head, saying, “Now come on Mac, you seriously think . . .”

“Well . . .” she said, trying to stir the pot a little, just for humor’s sake.

“No. I called him and then waited outside. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Harm liked the friendly banter they had going. It was just like old times and it felt good. He’d almost forgotten what that was like.

“I know,” Mac said with a smile. “So, I guess breakfast it is. I can be ready in about 45 minutes; is that okay?”

“Sounds great.”

“Bye. And Harm—don’t be late—I’m starving,” she said with a scolding tone to her voice.

“Bye Mac,” he said, clicking off his cell phone, smiling. Mac was starting to sound like herself again. Although he was sure that the nightmare probably still bothered her to some degree, she wasn’t dwelling on it. He wasn’t completely convinced that was a good thing though. Harm hoped that at their session on Friday that Mac would at least mention it to Maddie. Maybe she could help her decipher what it all meant.

After hanging up with Mac, Harm sat there lost in his thoughts. So much had happened in the week since the Admiral forced them into counseling. For as much as he hated the idea initially, it was beginning to serve its purpose. If anything the counseling was bringing back their friendship that had been sorely lacking lately. For that he was immensely grateful. He still wondered where they were going to end up once these sessions were over with. Mac was right last night, “Why did we let it get this far,” he thought. They could deliberate this point for the rest of their lives but it wouldn’t solve anything. Solving things now meant getting past all the hurt and starting to heal. There was so much he needed to say to her but it was a matter of finding the right moment. With all she had been through emotionally, he wasn’t sure when that would be.

Snapping back to the present, Harm quickly checked the time. Damn. If I don’t get moving soon, there will be hell to pay, he thought with a smile. Tossing the phone on the counter, he dashed off to the shower, eager to make his breakfast date with Mac.