The Porch Swing

Chapter 6

Mac lay on the porch swing, sweltering in the late summer heat. Mattie and Harm were down on the beach enjoying the water and she was stuck on this damn porch, dripping. They had offered to stay and keep her company, but she was not about to force them to suffer along with her, certainly not when this would be Mattie's first trip to the beach. Besides that, she wasn't really in the mood to be social. Pouting seemed to be more her style this afternoon. To add insult to injury, a mosquito insisted on tormenting her by buzzing around her head, but refusing to land so that she could have the satisfaction of slapping it. Why hadn't Harm fixed that hole in the screen? She glared at her right foot, propped on a pile of pillows, encased in a marine green plaster cast. She wiggled her toes experimentally, and immediately regretted it as the dull ache on the outside of her ankle turned sharp and insistent. She sighed and repositioned her leg, trying to find a more comfortable position.

This was all Jennifer Coates's fault. A softball team had sounded like a great idea to help the office bond. And Mac had to admit, things had been going very well since she had instituted new physical fitness requirements and then turned the requirements into a monthly challenge, a la the JAG-athon. Her officers had started to work as a team. They had gotten to know each other better, and had loosened up enough to function as a unit, not quite a well-oiled machine, but certainly better than the stiff formality that had been their hallmark when she'd first assumed command. She knew she could never duplicate the way AJ Chegwidden's office had functioned in its heyday, but she was pleased with the progress she'd made in only a few months, and had become more comfortable with her staff. When Jennifer had told her about the military softball league, she had jumped at the chance to put together a team for her office.

Yesterday had been going so well. They were poised to win the championship when Mac came up to bat. She caught a ball on the sweet spot of her bat and took off for first base, adrenaline pumping. The ball soared over the infield and dropped neatly into the outfield, took a giant hop and rolled rapidly away from the petty officer trying to scoop it up. Mac rounded second and took off for third, planning to slide neatly into a triple. As she approached third, her teammates waved her on, so she aborted her plan to slide into base. Her last minute maneuvering was not particularly graceful and her right foot landed awkwardly on the bag. Her ankle twisted painfully and collapsed beneath her, sending her sprawling. She tried twice to stand and walk it off, insisting it was just a sprain, but gave up when the aggrieved limb would not support her weight. A corpsman was summoned who immobilized her broken ankle and ordered an ambulance. She was safe, the winning run at third base, but instead of being carried off on their shoulders in triumph she had been carted off the field on a stretcher.

Last night, Jennifer had called with the game results, trying not to sound too cheerful amidst the raucous sounds of celebration in the background. When the crowd discovered who was on the phone the noise increased ten-fold, including congratulations and shouts of her name and several hooyahs. They had indeed won the league championship by one run. Jennifer, the pinch runner, had scored when the XO hit a double into the same pocket that Mac had picked.

But she had missed the victory and the subsequent celebration. She sighed out loud and repositioned herself again. Her ankle really didn't hurt much, but she was seriously ticked off. It wasn't just that she had missed the end of the game and the post-game celebration with her people; it wasn't just that she was missing Mattie's first trip to the beach since she had arrived in California; it wasn't just that she was going to be on crutches for the rest of the weekend and in a cast for five weeks. No, none of that was making her crazy. The problem was her wedding… in three weeks…in a white dress…and a GREEN CAST!

The ringing phone pulled her out of her reverie. Without thinking she stood on her injured ankle, which protested her action. Vigorously.

"Argh!" she groaned aloud. "This sucks!"

She grabbed one crutch from next to the swing and hobbled into the kitchen, just in time to hear the caller hang up without leaving a message. "Dammit!" she shouted to nobody in particular. This just wasn't her weekend.

She yanked the cordless phone from its cradle, resisting the urge to hurl it across the kitchen, grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator, and hopped back on to the porch. This time she sat, drinking the water and staring at the view. A broken ankle was not the end of the world. What had Harm suggested? Wrapping the cast in white satin? Yeah, they could paste flowers all over Mattie's wheel chair, too. Or better yet, maybe Harm could break his wrist and they would be a matched set. She chuckled derisively. Man, for somebody with a perfect internal clock, her timing certainly did stink.

She leaned her elbow on her bent knee and supported her chin in her hand. "Boy, this sure is depressing," she complained to whoever might be listening, which as far as she knew was nobody. She contemplated calling Harriet to say "hi" and to complain about her plight, when the sound of sandy wheels on a wooden ramp drifted across the porch.

"What are they doing back so soon?" she wondered out loud. She stood carefully and met them at the door. "Is everything ok? Are you alright, Mattie? What are you doing back so soon?" The questions tumbled one after another as if her tension had been brought to life.

"Whoa, Mac, calm down, we're fine. Why didn't you answer the phone?" Harm asked, looking and sounding a tad perturbed. "And what are you doing on your feet?"

"Please tell me that wasn't you who called and didn't leave a message. The phone's in kitchen," Mac answered pointedly. "I was on the porch."

"I told you she wouldn't have time to get to the phone, genius," Mattie scolded Harm, good naturedly.

Harm had the sense to look embarrassed and keep his mouth closed. As Mac turned to hop back toward the couch, Harm jumped to help her. Still annoyed, Mac shook him off. "I got it. I'm not an invalid, you know."

"Uh, sorry," Harm mumbled, backing away, his hands in the air. "Would you like us to step out so we can try this again?"

Mac sighed as she settled her leg on the pillows. "No, I'm sorry. It’s not your fault I'm in such a lousy mood. How was the beach?"

"It was great! The water was really warm and the sand felt so great between my toes. I can't wait 'til I can go down there without this thing." Mattie gestured at the wheelchair.

Mac exchanged a brief look at Harm, but his expression was unreadable. She turned her attention back to Mattie. "Yeah? I wish I could have gone with you. I love the beach."

"Me too. But when you get your cast off, I should be on crutches so we can go without this big lug," she joked, gesturing toward Harm. "Well, I need to go get out of my suit and take a shower."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope, I'm good." Mattie rolled her chair into the kitchen.

Harm perched gently next to the pillow pile and patted Mac's knee.

"So how was it really?" She asked, laying her hand on his, stilling it.

Harm smiled. "Actually, it was good, Mac. Mattie's doing really well. She swam a little bit without my help. Of course I had to carry her to the water, but she stood a little. She's definitely making good progress. I'm just worried about getting her hopes up too much, ya' know?"

Mac patted his hand. "I do, but I think we need to give her as much hope as she can handle."

Harm squeezed her hand.

"Hey, Harm?" Mattie's voice drifted from the other end of the house.

Harm stood and went to the door of the kitchen. "Yeah Matts, what do you need?"

"Did you tell Mac that Jen called?"

"Oops," Harm mumbled turning back toward Mac. "That's what we came back for. Jen called my cell while we were at the beach. She wanted to bring the team here tonight for a post-playoff barbeque. I told her I'd call her back after I talked to you. You up for it?"

Mac's first reaction was to say no. She was in a mood that she really didn't want to share with anybody. She started to tell Harm so, when he balanced precariously on the edge of the swing. She tried to avoid looking at him, knowing the expression on his face without seeing it. The expectation in his voice was obvious. He, inexplicably, wanted to have this barbeque. She sighed and turned to meet his gaze. The puppy dog face. She knew it.

"You want to tell Jen yes, right?"

"Not if you aren't up to it," he said warily.

"I'm not sure I am, Harm. I'm in a shitty mood. I'm hot, a mosquito keeps bugging me…" She glared at him as he tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, Mac. You gotta admit that was pretty funny," he cajoled.

Mac tried to stay annoyed but with Harm giggling and looking at her like that, she knew she was powerless to resist. "OK," she relented. "Call Jen. Tell her to bring the gang. We'll have the party I couldn’t get to last night. But you're gonna have to go to the market. We have no food."

Harm fidgeted with the edge of Mac's cast. "Uh, that's not a problem, Mac."

"Why not?"

"Um… Well…I might as well tell you. Jen was planning a surprise party this afternoon. She was going to come over while we were all at the beach. It was supposed to be a combo welcome back for Mattie and shower for you. But your little mishap kind of scuttled our plans." He tilted his head and looked at Mac out of the corner of his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked for all the world like a little boy who could no longer contain a secret.

She laughed out loud at the image and patted his hand. "It's fine, Harm. Tell Jen to come on over. I'm going up to change."

Harm leapt to his feet. "Do you need a hand?"

"No. I can handle it." She rose carefully from the swing and gave him a quick smooch on the cheek. "Ooh, salty. You, my dear, need a shower. When are they coming?"

"Half hour," Harm threw back over his shoulder as he sprinted through the kitchen.

"Half hour?" Mac shrieked. "You better run, sailor."

Chapter 7

They were lying cocooned together on the swing, her in her wedding dress, him in rumpled dress whites, physically and emotionally spent. The last of their guests had adjourned to hotels and the VOQ. Trish had taken Mattie and Chloe back to her place for a girls' weekend out, and the caterers and the band had packed up.

They were alone at last.

Mac couldn't remember ever feeling so content. The day had gone as perfectly as possible. The weather had been glorious, the food, the music, all of it had been fabulous. Everybody had had a great time and now she was just lying in the arms of the man she loved. It didn't get any better than this. If she was a cat, she was sure she would be purring.

"Ummm. I know exactly how you feel, Mac," Harm chuckled drowsily.

"Did I purr out loud, Mr. Rabb?" Mac pressed her lips into the hollow of his throat and planted a trail of kisses along the edge of his open collar.

"I think you did, Mrs. Rabb." He dusted a line of kisses along the crown of her head and tightened his hold on her.

Mac chuckled as she felt his body respond. "Should we take this to the next level?" She almost hoped he would say no. She was way too comfortable and there would be plenty of time for more strenuous activities on their honeymoon. She didn't care if they never left their cottage.

"This swing is a bit too small for that, don't you think?"

"Probably, but to be honest I am too tired to even get off this swing, much less go upstairs and get out of this dress."

"We do have two whole weeks by ourselves."

A murmured "Ummm," was all she could manage.

A belly laughed burst from him. "You're not falling asleep on me are you?"

His laughter roused her from the edge of sleep. "No, 'course not."

"It was a nice day, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Everything you dreamed of?"

Mac pulled her head back so she could look at him. Was that doubt she heard in his voice? She searched his face and saw only the same contentment she felt. Satisfied, she snuggled against his shoulder again, drinking in the warmth of his love. He enveloped her again and placed a delicate kiss on her temple.

"Yeah," she sighed. "It was pretty much perfect."

"It was. You know, the barbeque/beach party idea was inspired."

"Thanks," she crooned. "I couldn't see renting some stuffy country club when we had this gorgeous back yard and the beach so close. How did your mother get caterers and a band so fast?"

Harm chuckled. "I don’t know and I didn't ask. My mother is very…um…resourceful."

"It was sweet of her to offer to take Mattie and Chloe for the weekend."

"And Coates."

"Coates?"

"Um hm. When she heard that Jen was going back to her quarters alone, Mom couldn't resist including her in the festivities."

She kissed the edge of his exposed collar bone. "That's nice."

"Umm hmm."

"She's nice."

"My mother?" He nibbled on her ear.

"Yeah."

"Well I like her."

Mac giggled. "I hope so. Are they meeting everybody for brunch in the morning?"

"Mom hadn't decided. If they're in the midst of an important shopping mission they might not make it."

"No, of course not."

"Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Not in the last forty-two minutes."

"Well then," he said, kissing her temple. "I should remedy that deplorable situation."

"I agree."

Harm pulled back. Mac lifted her head to gaze into his eyes. He lowered his head toward hers and their lips met in a passionate kiss that she felt all the way to her toes. Harm pulled away and smiled at her. Her eyes burned with tears of happiness, and she was certain she saw the same in his.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

They kissed again and again and then by mutual accord, via the instinctive communication they had always shared (when they chose to pay attention) they snuggled in each other's arms and drifted to sleep.

Chapter 8

When Mac awoke, she was staring into a pair of laughing brown eyes and a button nose dusted with freckles.

"You're awake, Gramma. I'll go tell Mommy."

She had barely registered her grandson's words before he disappeared out the porch door yelling for Mattie. A quick check of her internal clock told her it was 11:45. Good Lord. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so late. She smiled involuntarily as she remembered several times that she and Harm had slept well past lunch. She sat up slowly, her body protesting a night on the swing. She stretched and went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. By the time she had splashed some water on her face and was walking back out to the porch with a cup of coffee, Mattie and Jimmy were coming up the ramp, loaded with beach paraphernalia.

"Hey, Mattie."

"Hey, Mac. He didn't wake you up, did he?"

"Yeah, but that's OK" she answered dismissively. She grabbed her grandson and wrestled him onto her lap planting sloppy kisses on whatever bare skin she could find. He giggled and tried to squirm away. She set him down and he scampered out into the yard.

"It was time I was awake anyhow. Don't worry about it."

Mattie turned to keep an eye on her son. "Hey you, wait for me or grandma before you go to the beach, right?"

"I know," was his long suffering reply.

Mac took a sip of coffee, smiling as she listened to Mattie trying to reign in her spirited son. She wondered, not for the first time, if Jimmy was like Mattie had been at that age. She knew Mattie was putting up with the same stuff Trish had experienced with Harm. Perhaps some aspects of personality could be learned.

"So, what brings you here, Mattie? Checking up on me?" To her chagrin she sounded more defensive than she intended. That was sure to set off Mattie's mom radar.

"No. Well, a little. Jimmy wanted to swim and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone."

"Mattie…"

"Look, Mac. I'm not going to let you sit here by yourself and become a hermit." She held up her hand to silence the protest that was on the tip of Mac's tongue. "If there's anything you taught me it's that you have to face things before they get too big. I know you think you aren't hiding, but from where I sit, it sure looks like you are."

Mac went from defensive to furious in less than ten seconds. She sprang from the chair and paced the porch. "You're overreacting! Dammit, Mattie, Harm is dead less than two weeks. I spent all the time with you. It was great, really, but I haven't had any time alone. How am I going to learn to live by myself again if I never get to be by myself?"

She stopped and looked toward Mattie, waiting for an argument, primed for a fight. Instead she lost all steam when she saw the sorrow Mattie had been trying to hide since they had gotten the phone call. She would later swear that Mattie's lower lip had trembled. Mac moved toward her and wrapped her in a comforting hug as her own tears fell. It was, Mac realized, the first time they had allowed themselves to grieve together.

"Mommy? Are you OK?"

Mattie extricated herself from Mac and surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "Yeah, Sweetie, I'm fine, just sad about Grandpa."

"Oh. Can we have lunch now?"

Jimmy's easy acceptance of their grief and his attention to more important things, like lunch, struck Mac as tremendously funny. She burst out laughing. Mattie stared at her, startled for a moment, and then started laughing herself. Jimmy joined them, giggling until he could hardly stand up. Mac managed to pull herself together, and wiping her eyes headed into the house to put on her bathing suit.

They had a picnic lunch at the beach, swam for hours, and even took a nap together under a tree in the yard. After what Mac had to admit was a fabulous afternoon, she offered to treat everybody to Chucky Cheese, Jimmy's favorite restaurant. Mattie relented since Rick was out of town. After dinner, they walked along the beach until the sun began to set. Jimmy wanted ice cream so they bought cones and sat on the beach until the sun was replaced by the moon and stars.

"Which one do you think is him, Gram?" Jimmy asked, staring intently at the stars.

"You mean Grandpa?" They had explained to Jimmy that Grandpa had gone to be with the Angels. He had decided that one of the stars must be Harm, newly arrived in heaven. Mac saw no reason to dissuade him of the notion.

"Yeah. Which one is he?"

"Jimmy," Mattie warned him gently.

"It's alright, Mattie."

Mac leaned over to the little boy. "Which one do you think is him, Honey?"

"I think that big, shiny one."

"That's a nice one."

"Yeah. It's my favorite one and it's big like Grampa."

Mac smiled into the darkness. "I think you might be right, Jimmy."

When Mattie dropped her off, Mac fell asleep as soon as her head hit the cushion