The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Seventeen
She had known it would be hard, but she told herself that she could handle it. After all, she had lived by herself for most of her adult life; surely she could handle a few measly weeks without Harm. But after only one night, she was ready to throw in the towel. The house was just too big, too quiet. And nothing seemed to fill the silence. Not the music blaring from the stereo as she worked out, not the television as she sat on the couch feeling sorry for herself and gorging on Ben and Jerry�s, nothing helped. Nothing could drown out all the doubts and fears creeping back in, working their way past defenses that were weren�t as strong without Harm there to bolster them if she faltered. She was anxious and she was lonely, lonely enough that she couldn�t stand sleeping in their bed without him. Instead she camped out on the couch, dressed in her favorite ratty pair of pajamas and Harm�s robe, watching bad movies and worse infomercials until she finally fell into a restless sleep around three a.m. - only to be woken again less than five hours later by someone at her front door.
On a normal Saturday she would have already been up and moving by the time the doorbell rang for the first time, but as this was not a normal Saturday and Mac was in no mood to do any moving, she just ignored it and tried to go back to sleep. When it rang a second time, she groaned in annoyance and pulled Harm�s robe over her head, figuring that it was either a solicitor or a well meaning friend, neither one of which she was willing to deal with at the moment. But when the doorbell rang for the third time, she realized that whoever was out there wasn�t going away until she told them to do so. Tired, cranky, and furious at the early morning intrusion, Mac threw Harm�s robe off and stormed over to the front door, determined to give whoever was there a piece of her mind.
�What?!� she snapped belligerently as she flung the door open, and came face to face with the last person she expected to see. She gaped for a moment in stunned disbelief before she finally managed to get her voice working again. �Mrs. Burnett!�
Mac had only met Trish Burnett once, years ago when she and Harm were in California for a case. But although they had spent less than an hour together, she immediately recognized the immaculately dressed woman standing on the front porch with a suitcase in hand. What she didn�t know was why she was here.
�Hello, Mac,� Trish responded with a friendly smile, a little confused by the stunned look on the younger woman�s face. Then she took note of Mac�s appearance, the messy hair and the worn pajamas, and figured that Mac wasn�t quite awake yet. �Oh dear, did I wake you up? I�m sorry, Harm said you were usually up by now.�
�What? Oh, no. I mean yes. I mean...I am usually up by now. I, um, I had a hard time falling asleep last night. Um, Mrs. Burnett, I don�t...what are you doing here?� Mac blurted out, too flustered to figure out a polite way to phrase her question. But Trish didn�t seem offended, just confused.
�Harm didn�t tell you?�
�No,� Mac replied slowly, not at all certain she wanted to know what exactly Harm was supposed to tell her. �Harm got sent out of the country on a case yesterday.�
�I know, dear. He called me from the airport. He told me he wasn�t sure how long he was going to be gone, and he thought now would be a good time for me to carry through on my threat to come visit for awhile.�
Mac looked at her in complete shock. �He did what?�
�He didn�t call you? I swear!� Trish exclaimed in frustration when Mac silently shook her head, �That boy...he promised me he was going to call you before he got on that plane. Maybe he called your cell phone and you missed it?�
At the mention of her phone, Mac flushed in embarrassment as she realized what must have happened. �The battery�s dead on my cell phone; I left it in the car,� she explained awkwardly. �And I, he said he wasn�t going to call until this afternoon, so I turned the ringers off the phones when I got home last night. There�s probably a message on the machine; I haven�t had a chance to check. I�m sorry.�
Trish waved off the apology with a smile, glad to hear that there was a logical explanation. �Oh, don�t apologize. I�m just glad I won�t have to call my son and scold him for his thoughtlessness. Lectures tend to lose their effectiveness over long distances,� Trish explained laughingly. She shivered as a gust of cold air hit her. �Sarah, I hate to impose, but do you think we could talk about this inside? I�m afraid I haven�t quite adjusted to the change in temperature.�
�Oh, of course! I�m so sorry, Mrs. Burnett,� Mac apologized, pushing open the screen door and helping Trish inside. �Please come in. Here, let me take your coat. Would you like some coffee, or some tea, maybe? We have chamomile; Harm said that was your favorite.�
�Coffee would be lovely, dear.� Trish could see how much her sudden appearance was unnerving Mac, so she decided to try and give her a few minutes to regain her composure. �You know, it doesn�t matter whether I sit in first class or not, long plane rides always leave me feeling a little rumpled. Would you mind if I freshened up a bit?�
�Not at all,� Mac assured her quickly, suppressing a relieved sigh at the thought of a few minutes alone. �Let me take you up to the guest bedroom. You can set your bag down there, and the bathroom�s right across the hall. Is this all your luggage?� she asked curiously, looking at Trish�s one small bag and wondering how long she was planning on staying.
�Oh, no. I have three more bags in the trunk of the rental car,� she admitted with a sheepish little laugh. �I�m afraid I�m the stereotypical woman when it comes to packing for trips. Drives Frank crazy.�
She followed Mac upstairs, surreptitiously glancing around to see as much of the house as possible. She had been trying to picture it ever since Harm had told her he and Mac were moving in together, but at the same time, she didn�t want to make Mac more nervous by appearing to critique her home.
�Here it is,� Mac told her nervously, startling Trish out of her thoughts. She realized that they were already up the stairs and standing in front of a small room decorated in varying shades of blue. It was soft and soothing, and Trish took to it immediately. She told Mac as much, and watched the younger woman relax just a little. Gesturing to a door directly across the hall, Mac said, �And there�s the bathroom. It has towels and everything. If you have the keys to your car, I can go get the rest of your bags for you.�
Trish dismissed her suggestion with a wave of her hand as she walked into the room and placed her bag on the bed. �Oh, don�t worry about those. They�ll keep until it warms up a bit outside.�
�Are you sure?� Mac asked, following her into the room. Trish nodded. �Okay, well then I guess I�ll go get the coffee started. If you don�t need anything else?�
�No, I�m fine.� Trish watched Mac shift uneasily from one foot to the other, and wanted nothing more than to pull her in for a comforting hug. But because she suspected that she was the only one who would be comforted, that it would only increase Mac�s distress, she settled for reaching out and catching the younger woman�s hand. Giving it a quick squeeze, she smiled and said, ��Thank you, darling. I won�t be too long.�
Mac managed a small smile in return, before quickly backing out of the room. �Okay. Then, I�ll see you downstairs whenever you�re ready.�
She stepped out into the hallway, and the moment the door closed behind her, Mac sagged against the wall and buried her face in her hands. She was mortified at how badly she was handling this whole situation; it wasn�t like she�d never had an unexpected guest drop in on her. Hell, she hadn�t been this uncomfortable when Mic showed up at the Surface Warfare ball, and he had just given up his life and moved halfway around the world. Of course, it had helped that she had already known how Mic felt about her. Despite a few phone conversations, and that one rushed lunch in California, Trish Rabb Burnett was a stranger to her. She was also the mother of the man Mac loved more than anything in the world, and that made Mac want to do her best to make Trish like and respect her. An impossible task if she couldn�t calm down and pull herself together in the next few minutes.
Forcing back tears of frustration and misery, Mac took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall. Striding determinedly into her bedroom, she quickly stripped out of her pajamas and threw on a pair of black slacks and the red sweater Harm had gotten her for Christmas, then headed into the bathroom to run a comb through the tangled mess that was her hair. When she was finished, she took a step back and surveyed herself in the mirror. Deciding that she looked a little more presentable, she left the room and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. After starting the coffee, she began gathering the dirty dishes off the counter and quickly loaded them into the dishwasher; she didn�t want Trish to think she was a complete slob. When that was finished, she grabbed a cloth to wipe down the table, only to stop when she noticed the flashing light of the answering machine. Wondering if Harm really did leave her a message, she walked over, flicked the ringer back on the phone, and hit the play button.
�You have two new messages.� The first message was from Harriet asking her over for Sunday dinner, and Mac absently made a note to call her back later that afternoon. Then the second message began to play, and Mac smiled a little when Harm�s familiar voice began to echo through the kitchen.
�Hey, Mac. It�s me.� Mac couldn�t help but feel a little measure of satisfaction when she heard the hint of nervousness in his voice. �I�m just about to get on the plane, but I, um, I wanted to call and warn you, tell you, that I, um, well, I called my mom and told her what was going on and asked her if she wanted to visit for awhile and she said yes so she�ll be there in the morning around 0730. Hope you don�t mind. Please don�t be mad,� he pleaded softly, �I know you�re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but I just didn�t want you to have to be alone. And mom keeps asking when she can come and visit, and you said you wanted to get to know her better, so I thought this would be the perfect solution. After all, everyone can use a little mothering now and then.� There was some noise in the background, and then Harm said regretfully, �I have to go or I�ll miss the plane. I�ll call you tomorrow when I get a chance. Love you. Bye.�
Mac shook her head in exasperation. This was such a typically Harm move, act first and tell her about it later, preferably when she was too far away to cause any physical damage. And what made it even worse is that he always had the noblest of intentions, was always looking out for someone else�s best interests when he pulled these stunts, which made it impossible to be really angry with him. And she wanted to be angry with him, wanted to yell at him for not calling her first and warning her so that she wouldn�t make a complete fool of herself in front of his mother. But how could she get upset when he was trying so hard to take care of her, to make sure she would be okay while he was gone.
She felt tears begin to form in her eyes as conflicting waves of loneliness, longing, and frustration washed over her. �I�m going to kill him,� she muttered unhappily, more to keep the tears from falling than out of any real desire to inflict pain.
Mac was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn�t realize Trish had entered the room until she heard an amused voice respond to her idle threat.
�While I completely understand why you feel that way, I�d appreciate it if you wouldn�t kill him. My son might be an idiot, but he�s the only one I�ve got, I�m afraid.�
Mac whirled around and saw Harm�s mother standing in the doorway. Flustered all over again, she tried to explain. �Mrs. Burnett, I didn�t hear you come in! I�m sorry, I didn�t mean-�
�Sarah, I�ve been married twice. Once to a Rabb,� Trish interrupted, giving Mac a knowing smile. �I know exactly what you meant, and I don�t blame you one bit. I love Harm, but he does have a tendency to act impulsively from time to time.�
Mac smiled, but Trish could still see the nervousness in her eyes and the tension in her frame, and she wished that she had made sure Mac knew she was coming before she just showed up on her doorstep. With an inward sigh, she took a step forward and said gently, �Sarah, it really wasn�t very fair of Harm and I to plan this without asking you. I think that maybe I should call and see about getting a hotel room.�
�What?� Mac asked, startled by the offer. An offer she rejected immediately. Although Trish might be making her a little nervous, Mac had no intention of sending her away. �Oh no, Mrs. Burnett, that�s not necessary.�
�I don�t want to impose on you, Mac, or make you feel uncomfortable.�
�You�re not! Honestly, Mrs. Burnett, you�re not imposing,� Mac insisted vehemently, and then attempted to explain herself. �I�m sorry; you�ve come all this way, and I don�t mean to seem ungrateful. I just wasn�t expecting this. But I am glad you�re here. Really.�
�Are you certain, Mac?� Trish asked, looking at her hesitantly.
�I am,� Mac responded firmly. Then a thought crossed her mind and her voice lost a little confidence when she added, �That is, unless you�d rather stay at a hotel. I mean, I don�t want you to feel like you have to stay here just because your son has an overly large protective streak. I don�t know what he told you, but I�m fine, really. I don�t want you to feel obligated-�
Trish cut her off before she could finish. �Mac, I didn�t come here out of pity, or obligation,� she reassured her, determined to head off that notion before it went any further. �I know we�ve only met once, and we don�t know each other very well, but I�d very much like to change that. I�d like to get to know the woman my son is so in love with.�
Mac blushed and ducked her head, embarrassed to hear someone else mention Harm�s feelings for her. But when she lifted her gaze, and saw Trish staring back at her with such open affection, she realized how much she wanted to get know the woman who had raised the man she loved. Smiling shyly, she took a step forward. �I�d like to get to know you, too,� she told Trish sincerely. �Please, stay?�
�I�d love to,� Trish responded, and then immediately added, �On two conditions.�
Mac looked at her apprehensively. �Um, okay.�
�Number one-no more Mrs. Burnett. It�s making me feel old. Call me Trish.� Actually, she�d prefer it if Mac called her mom, but she didn�t want to scare the girl all over again. Mac smiled at her again.
�I can do that, Trish. What�s number two?�
�Number two is that you will not, under any circumstances, treat me as a guest.� Mac opened her mouth to protest, but didn�t get the chance. Trish just shook her head and said firmly, �No. No arguments. I�m here to help you if you need it. Now, I promise to do my absolute best not to hover, but only if you promise to do the same. Deal?�
Mac saw the determination in Trish�s eyes as she held out her hand, and knew that it would be pointless to argue; she knew that look too well. Instead, she took the hand that Trish offered and shook it firmly. �Deal.�
�Good.� She patted Mac�s hand before releasing it and looking around the kitchen. �Now that we�ve got that settled, how does breakfast sound? Maybe some eggs and toast?�
�That sounds great,� Mac admitted, as her stomach became aware of the fact that she hadn�t eaten anything since her ice cream binge the night before. Trish clapped her hands in delight.
�Wonderful! Point me to the skillet,� she ordered peremptorily and this time, Mac did try to argue.
�Oh, you don�t have to. I can make...� she trailed off as she watched Trish fold her arms across her chest and stare pointedly at her. She recognized that look, too, so she quickly closed her mouth and pointed meekly to a cabinet to the left of the stove. �Skillet�s in that cupboard, Trish.�
Trish smiled before reaching down and pulling the skillet out of the cupboard, while Mac grabbed the carton of eggs out of the refrigerator. Soon the two women were working side by side, and before she knew it, Mac was sitting down at the table with Harm�s mother eating breakfast and trading embarrassing stories about Harm. Mac laughed hysterically as Trish relayed the time a four-year-old Harm, wearing nothing more than a sailor�s cap, joined a dinner party they were giving for his father�s C.O., and Trish rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock despair when Mac told her about yesterday�s impromptu proposal.
When she was finished, Trish sighed heavily. �You know,� she said, feigning a distressed look, �I had so hoped that Harm would be a little different from his father and have at least an ounce of romance in him. Obviously, my hopes were in vain.�
�Oh, he has his moments,� Mac countered with a smile. They were quieter, more low-key moments, but they were there. Besides, Mac had found over the years that by and large, romance was highly overrated. Other men had romanced her, Mic and Dalton and others, and while it was flattering, it was also fleeting. Harm might not send her huge bouquets of roses, or shout his love from the rooftops, but he showed her in a thousand little ways how much he loved her, and how important she was to him.
Because thinking about Harm and their love inevitably led to thinking about Harm being so far away, she wasn�t surprised when she felt a lump form in her throat, and tears pool in her eyes. Forcing herself to maintain control, she cleared her throat and looked up at Trish. �You should be proud of him,� Mac told her sincerely, swiping quickly at a stray tear that had escaped.
�I am,� Trish responded. She reached out and patted Mac�s hand. �I�m happy for him, too.�
Mac blushed and looked down. Not wanting to embarrass her any more, Trish decided to change the subject. �So, do you have any big plans for the day?�
�Oh yeah,� Mac snorted derisively, and started ticking things off on her fingers. �Let�s see, first I was going to wander aimlessly around the house to try and avoid thinking about Harm. Then, when that didn�t work, I was going to go out and wander aimlessly around D.C. to try and avoid thinking about Harm. And then when that didn�t work, I was going to come home, sit on the couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry�s and mope. Maybe even sulk a little.�
Trish laughed. �Well, while I wouldn�t want to intrude on such important plans, do you think I might accompany you on the wandering through D.C. portion of the program? I never seem to get a chance to see anything while I�m here,� she explained, �and I thought it would be nice to do a little exploring.�
�That sounds like fun,� Mac said enthusiastically. "Did you have any particular place in mind?�
Trish shrugged. �Not really. There are a few galleries and museums that I�d like to visit, but I thought I could do that while you�re at work. I don�t want to bore you.�
�You wouldn�t be boring me at all,� Mac protested. �I enjoy galleries and museums.�
�Really?� Trish asked skeptically, wondering if Mac really meant it or was just humoring her.
�Mm hmm. Photography is my favorite, and it�s what I know the most about, but I like other art, too. Painting and sculptures.� Mac�s eyes lit up. �Have you ever been to the Freer Gallery?�
�Not for a very long time,� Trish admitted. �They specialize in Asian art, don�t they?�
Mac nodded. �Yes, although they have a great collection of Whistler paintings as well. It�s my favorite place to go when the Mall is really crowded,� she confided to Trish. �It�s so soothing and peaceful, and there�s so many beautiful things to explore.�
Trish watched Mac�s face as she began to describe some of the works in the gallery, and realized that she most definitely was not humoring her. Her detailed descriptions, and her sheer enthusiasm for the subject made that clear. It was wonderful to see, not just because it gave them something in common, but because it was the first time since Trish had arrived that she�d seen Mac so relaxed and happy.
When Mac finished talking, she asked Trish if the gallery was something she thought she would enjoy, and Trish nodded enthusiastically. �I�d love to. When do you want to leave?�
�It depends. Would you like to rest for a while first? You had a long flight.�
Trish shook her head. �No, if I rest now, it�ll be that much harder to get myself adjusted to this time zone.�
Mac nodded; that made sense. �Okay, well then if you�ll give me twenty minutes to shower and change, we can leave right away. Is that okay?�
�It�s perfect,� Trish smiled. She stood and began gathering up their dishes. �While you do that, I�ll get this mess cleaned up.�
Mac started to protest, but Trish reminded her of her promise not to treat her like a guest and then shooed her out of the kitchen. Mac shook her head in exasperation as she headed upstairs; at least now she knew where Harm got his stubborn streak.
She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door before starting to peel off the clothes she had thrown on earlier. Grabbing her robe, she was about to head into the bathroom when she noticed the phone on the nightstand and realized that she needed to call Harm and let him know that his mother arrived safely. Walking over, she sat on the bed and tucked her legs underneath her before picking up the phone and dialing his cell phone. She knew the chances of reaching him on it right now would be slim, but she didn�t know where he was staying so she couldn�t call his hotel.
Sure enough, his phone must have been turned off because it rolled right over to voice mail. A little annoyed that she wasn�t going to get a chance to talk to him, she waited impatiently for the message to finish before speaking.
�Hey it�s me. I just wanted to let you know that I got your message. Twenty-three minutes and fourteen seconds after your mother rang the doorbell,� she added pointedly, continuing, �which I answered wearing my dinosaur pajamas and matching slippers, with my hair sticking up all over the place. And then I yelled at her, and she had to remind me to invite her into the house. So thanks for the advance warning,� she said sarcastically, �but maybe next time you could call me before you call your mother. It might cut down on embarrassing moments. Oh, and one more thing.� Mac�s voice softened, as she said softly, �Thank you. I understand what you were trying to do, and I appreciate it. I�m glad that she�s here, Harm. We�ll take good care of each other until you get back. Call me when you get a chance. Love you.�
She quickly hung up the phone, and this time when the tears came she didn�t bother trying to stop them. Crying softly, she hurried into the bathroom and stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away her tears. When she was done crying, she swiftly washed her hair and body before turning off the water and grabbing a towel. As she had done every time since she had come home from the hospital, she turned away from the mirror before drying off, and made sure that she had her bra and underwear on before turning back around long enough to run a comb through her hair. Then she stepped back into her room, got dressed, threw her shoes on, scooped up her purse and her keys and headed down the stairs.
Since neither woman wanted to brave the streets of D.C. on a Saturday, they parked the car at the nearest Metro stop and took the first train headed towards the city. Thirty minutes and one transfer later, Mac and Trish found themselves stepping off the train and out onto the Mall, practically right in front of the museum. Maneuvering their way through the crowds, they walked into the Freer Gallery.
It was peaceful, and beautiful, just as Mac had said it would be, and she and Trish happily wandered through the rooms full of paintings and sculptures and artifacts, sometimes together, sometimes apart. Occasionally one would find something particularly fascinating and drag the other over to see it. Then they would spend the next twenty minutes talking about and examining it, careful to speak in hushed tones so they didn�t disturb any of the other visitors. Trish was impressed with how much Mac knew about art, and at how intently she would listen as Trish explained some facet or theory behind a style of painting. It made her inexpressibly happy to know that she had found something in common with Mac that had nothing to do with Harm; that could be theirs alone.
They had barely made it halfway through the gallery before they were forced to stop for lunch. Walking a few blocks to one of Mac�s favorite restaurants, Mac took advantage of Harm being out of town and ordered a double cheeseburger with onion rings and a chocolate shake. Although she had cut out almost all of the fat and grease from her diet, she occasionally had a craving for something nice and artery clogging, and it was much easier to indulge her craving when Harm wasn�t around.
Trish, in a show of solidarity, had not only promised not to tell her son about Mac�s indulgence, but had also ordered a burger for herself. But when the food arrived, Trish�s eyes opened wide in shock. She didn�t think she�d ever seen a hamburger that big, she�d be lucky if she finished half of it. Mac, on the other hand, immediately took a huge bite of hers and began chewing happily, a look of utter contentment on her face.
As she watched Mac devour her monstrous burger, Trish couldn�t help but smile in motherly delight. She had met a few of Harm�s girlfriends over the years, and while they had all been nice enough, she had felt like each one of them had been doing their best to show her what they thought she wanted to see. They watched what they ate, and what they said, and pretended to share Trish�s interests in an attempt to show her, Harm, and anyone else who cared, how perfect they were for him.
Mac, though, didn�t do any of those things. As nervous as she had obviously been when Trish had first shown up, she didn�t try and be anything other than what she was. She impressed Trish because she wasn�t trying to impress her, and the more Trish saw, the more she was convinced that Harm had found the perfect woman for him. Even better, Trish had found a woman who could be more than just her son�s girlfriend (and if she had her way, eventually his wife); she had found a woman she could relate to on a personal level. Someone who could be as much of a daughter to her as Harm was a son.
�Trish?� She was drawn out of her thoughts by Mac�s concerned voice. �Is everything okay?�
�Everything�s wonderful.� Mac looked at her quizzically, so she tried to explain what was going through her mind. �Sarah,� she sighed, �I wasn�t exaggerating when I said that Harm takes so completely after his father. Sometimes I look at him and I wonder if there�s any part of me in him at all. From the time he could talk, Harm�s world consisted of his father, his planes, and the Navy-in that order.�
�Trish, he loves you-� Mac started to protest, but Trish waved her off.
�I know he does,� she reassured Mac. �And I love him, dearly. More than that I�m proud of him, of the man that he turned out to be. But we live in different worlds, and those worlds rarely connect. We�ve never really had anything in common. Until now.�
�I don�t understand.�
�I love my son, but I always wished that I could have had a daughter, too. Someone I could share my own passions and interests with.� She smiled lovingly at Mac. �Someone like you.�
�I�I don�t know what to say,� Mac stammered, overwhelmed.
�I�m making you uncomfortable, aren�t I?�
�A little,� Mac admitted quietly. �It�s not your fault. I�m just not used to being...�
�Mothered?� Trish finished for her gently. The word hit Mac like a fist, and she gasped a little at the pain of it. Despite what she might have said, the wound that her mother had left on her soul had never fully healed. It would scab over, but then something would happen to rip the scab right back off again. Something like her cancer. She had found herself wishing more than once for the comfort of her mother�s arms, but then the cold, hard truth would rear its ugly head. The truth that there was no comfort to be found in her mother�s arms; there hadn�t been for a long, long time. And what hurt her the most about that knowledge was how much power it still had to hurt her.
But as she looked at Harm�s mother and saw the compassion and the affection in the older woman�s eyes, the pain eased just a little. Drawing strength from that, she sucked in a deep breath and then nodded her head. �Yeah,� she whispered tearfully. �I�It�s been a long time since anyone�s mothered me.�
�Too long, I think,� Trish said, lifting her hand and wiping away the tears trickling down Mac�s cheeks. And because she felt raw and vulnerable, Mac momentarily rested her cheek against Trish�s hand for comfort before pulling away in embarrassment. Trish reached into her purse to pull out a tissue, and offered it to Mac. And with it, she tried to offer something else.
�I�d like the chance to change that if I can. If you�ll let me,� she said sincerely, and then gave Mac a knowing grin. �After all, I might not be your mother, but I�m going to be your mother-in-law just as soon as my son figures out a better way to propose. So I think it would be a good idea if we got a head start on the whole mother/daughter dynamic. Don�t you?�
�I do,� Mac agreed, taking the tissue from Trish. Twisting it in her hands, she added, �Trish? I�m really glad you�re here.�
The hesitancy and sincerity in Mac�s voice tore at her heart, and she was forced to dig into her purse for a tissue of her own. As she wiped her eyes, she swore to herself that she was going to do her best to be the kind of mother Mac had always deserved, but had never known.
Trish took a minute to let them both calm down a little, and then tossed the tissue onto her plate and reached out and squeezed Mac�s hand. �If you think you�re glad now,� she whispered conspiratorially, wanting to see Mac smile again, �just wait until I take you shopping.�
Mac burst out laughing. �I can�t wait.�
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Rabb/Mackenzie residence
0750 EST
Mac�s first night alone was a long and lonely one. Harm wasn�t going to be able to call until mid-morning at least, so the first thing she did when she got home was to turn the ringers off on all the phones. She also closed all the curtains and kept the lights dim, wanting to discourage any friends that might want to come by and attempt to cheer her up and keep her company. She didn�t want company, and she couldn�t be cheered up. Harm was going to be on the other side of the Atlantic for who knew how long, while she was alone in an empty house. And even though she understood why he had to go, now that he was gone all she could think about was how much she missed him.