::  Graduation Day ::

Part 1

AN: This is a surprising personal story for me. It actually happened to a friend and he didn’t have Big Bud for a father as an excuse. Finally, for those of you confused by the name of AJ Roberts at the end of the story, I’ve checked and the only thing I can come up with is that they didn’t saddle the kid with Albert Jethro. Other than that, I don’t think they’ve ever told us what A. J. stands for.

Harvard Medical School
The Quad
June 6, 2024

"Harriet! For goodness sake, smile!"

"Come on Mom, you can do it," AJ Roberts held back the tassel on his mortarboard to bend down and kiss his mother’s cheek. "Please don’t cry," he whispered.

"I won’t, sweetie." Taking a deep breath she watched him join his class and looked up at Jimmy «No, James». Her younger son’s second lieutenant bars gleamed and his eyes sparkled.

"One down, one to go," James Roberts laughed. "Though you have to admit, West Point was easier."

"But every bit as crowded," she muttered.

"What’s that, darling?" her husband called.

"Nothing! Just hurry up and take the picture!" God, she hated crowds.

James took her arm, leading her out to the shuttle bus that would take them from Harvard Medical School down to The Yard for the opening ceremonies. "Catch you guys later," he called to his brother and dad. The two men waved and walked toward their own bus.

Harriet was glad to finally sit down on the U-bus. Scooching up closer to the window, making room for James, the hard orange seat rucked up her dress. Struggling to tug the dress back over her knees, she pulled James down onto the bench and hugged his arm to her side. She didn’t know why she let the crowds bother her after all these years; they just did. But today was a happy day. This entire month had been full of happiness and anticipation. She wouldn’t think about the dark days.

Of course, just thinking that she wouldn’t think about it brought back the terrible memories. She’d been so scared; people all around her, oblivious to her terror. But he’d come through for her and kept her children safe. Now, not quite twenty years later, her first born was graduating at the top of his class. His next step was an internship at Johns Hopkins. Just two weeks ago, James had graduated as one of the top five of his class at West Point. It was such a proud moment for her. "Isn’t it nice to sit down and catch your breath, dear?"

James looked at her with just a hint of worry in eyes. But he put a smile on his face and whispered, "You want me to call for the limo? I’m sure Peterson can make it through the crowds."

"James!" she chided gently. "You’re turning into such a snob." She looked away and sighed. Life was not at all like she’d imagined it would be so many years ago when she’d married Bud. Her heart beat faster as, once again, she looked out the window. Would he make it? Would he remember? Would he even care? Even now, so long after the divorce, it was still hard to come to grips with how much he’d changed that year.

Roberts Residence
June 5, 2004
0200 Hours

She didn’t know why she was so worried. It wasn’t the first time he’d been out late. But this time he’d told her that he would be home in time for AJ’s kindergarten graduation.

Bud had been acting strangely ever since the lists had come out: he hadn’t been among those promoted to Lieutenant Commander. In fact, he’d been acting strangely ever since his return from Stockholm. He’d gone ballistic when Mike had lost little AJ at the arcade. His screaming denunciation of his younger brother had been vicious. And, as upset as she’d been, she was still shocked at how much he’d reminded her of Big Bud at that moment. Then, when Mike had tracked down AJ and safely returned him, it had been Mike who’d lashed out at Bud.

She’d prayed for a reconciliation, but it had been three months since Mike had stormed out of the house. She’d been grateful for AJ’s return and made a conscious effort to talk to her brother-in-law about what he’d done – but Bud never had. And, AJ showed no signs of getting better. In fact, she was almost glad Bud had missed the ceremony. AJ’s tantrum had been a sight to behold. Even now she wondered if Bud’s presence would have made any difference. It was merely one of the many promises Bud would break that year. Day by day, Bud seemed to be having a harder time talking to any of them. AJ was anxious around him. Jimmy, so small and helpless, was thankfully unaware of his father’s behavior.

Headlights nearly blinded her through the living room sheers. It only took her a moment to realize that the lights weren’t coming from their minivan. Instead, a sports car had pulled into their circular drive. Panicked, Harriet ran to the door, nearly flinging the door off its hinges. "Bud? Is that you, Bud?"

Someone was struggling to open the passenger door of the low-slung car. Wrapping her robe tightly around her, she stepped off of the front porch. "Hello? Bud?"

A head lifted from the shadows and focused on her. Harriet peered into the night trying to make out his features. "Lieutenant Sims," a familiar voice tiredly greeted her.

"Mr. Webb? Oh, my God!" Heart in her throat, she hurried towards the car. "What’s happened?"

"Hi, honey!" Bud giggled from the passenger seat.

"Come on, Lieutenant, get out of my car." Webb sounded exasperated and not a little pissed off. She took a good look at the spy and saw that, while he wore suit pants and a dress shirt, there was no tie. The top buttons of his shirt were open. She’d never seen him so disheveled. Then she caught a glimpse of her husband.

"What did you do to him?" was her irrational demand. She pushed Webb out of the way to peer in at Bud.

"Shhhhhhh," Bud cautioned. "Shhe-cret mishun. Helping out the Tin-man. Don’t believe nothin’ nobody tells you." He waved her away and leveraged himself out of the car. His prosthesis would have crumpled under him had Webb not gripped him with a steady arm.

"Come on Roberts. Let’s get you inside."

"I’ll handle it!" she cried. "Just what did you do to him?"

Webb looked at her for a long time. Instead of answering, he wearily reached into his pocket and pulled out Bud’s car keys. Handing them to her he said, "The van is parked in the lot of the 5^th District station. I asked them to keep it there tonight. You’ll need to move it by ten in the morning or they’ll impound it. Good night, Lieutenant."

Making certain that Harriet could support Bud’s weight. Webb walked back to the driver’s side of the car. Before opening the door, he sighed heavily and caught her eye, "It wasn’t part of any mission. I just…." Without finishing his explanation, Webb just climbed back into the car and drove off.

Manhandling Bud into the house, Harriet’s patience was wearing thin. "What just happened out there?"

"Jeeze, Harriet! Do you have to yell!" he whined.

"Hush, Bud! You’ll wake the kids."

"Hush or you’ll wake the kids." His mimic was mean and slurred. "Mushn’t wake the kids."

"Bud," she sighed and pointed towards the family room. "Sleep it off in there. You’ll never make it up the stairs."

"Oh, really?" Bud clumsily pushed Harriet out of his way, ignoring her gasp of pain as she fell to the ground. "I can too do it," he said, beginning the arduous climb up the tall staircase.

Harriet could only stare in horror as she struggled to stand on her rapidly swelling ankle.

"Daddy?" AJ appeared at the top of the stairs.

"What are YOU doing up so late!" Bud’s roar rent the night. "Go to bed, damnit!"

AJ stood there, his eyes wide with fear. Ignoring her own pain, Harriet pushed past Bud and went to her son. "Come on sweetie. Daddy’s not feeling very well right now."

She glared down at Bud who was swaying precariously on the remaining stairs. For a moment she thought he was going to topple backwards, but he managed to fall forward, cursing loudly as he did so. Harriet was in complete shock. She’d only seen him drunk once before. Then, he’d almost been funny. There was nothing funny about him tonight.

Feeling slightly afraid, she hurriedly put AJ back to bed. Reassuring him that everything was okay., she kissed his slightly damp forehead and headed for the next room.

By the time she’d checked on the baby and returned to the hall, Bud was just entering their bedroom. She followed him, favoring her left foot, and knowing that her ankle was sprained.

"What happened to you?" she demanded. "What did Mr. Webb get you involved in?"

Bud turned around and looked confused for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh man! You wouldn’t believe it. It was so cool. The cops even arrested me!"

"They arrested you! For what?" She was shaking now. "Why didn’t you call me?"

He swayed for a moment and the goofy grin faded to anger. "Nothing! Just tired. Gotta go to sleep."

"Bud, what about the car? We have to get the car."

"Don’t bother me now. Tired. Have to sleep." And with that, he curled up on the bed and closed his eyes. Within moments he was snoring. Harriet stood there looking down at his rumpled form. Tears of frustration warred with righteous anger – an anger directed at Clayton Webb.

"I don’t know what Webb’s gotten you into, but I’m going to tell Mac I don’t like it one bit," she vowed as she started to undress her insensate husband. She almost fell as she pulled off his pants. After unhooking his the prosthesis, she hobbled over to her side of the bed and stared at the clock.

She should go to bed, but she was worried about the car. "Damn him. He gets Bud into trouble and now my car is at the police station. What did he say? I’d have to move it by ten?" She glared at the clock again, already making mental notes about who she could call to take AJ to school and how she was going to get the car back. No matter how she figured it, she’d have to take a cab.

Then, inspiration struck: "No, I’ll call Mac and kill two birds with one stone."

Turning a hard glare upon her husband, she sighed. What could she do about him? She’d tried to talk to him, but he was becoming extremely secretive these days. His erratic behavior was a growing concern, too. Staying out ’til all hours and using his workload as an excuse was getting old fast. She was too afraid to call him on it and check with the guard shack. She couldn’t talk to anyone at work about it either. No sense sabotaging his friendships there. She just wanted to know why everything was going so wrong.

"Oh Bud. What is it?" Gingerly, she lay down on top of the covers, praying she would get a little sleep.

The alarm clock jarred them both awake. "My head," he groaned.

Peering through her pain-glazed eyes, she said, "Bud? Are you okay?"

He groaned again, then struggled to sit up. "My crutches aren’t by the bed," he stated petulantly. "I need to pee."

She crawled out of bed only to cry out as she tried to stand.

"What’s the matter?" He obviously didn’t remember and she didn’t have the strength to go into it now.

"Later," she said dismissively before hopping over to where his crutches lay. Leaning against the wall, she panted from exertion and pain. "Here!" She hefted the crutches across the room and watched as he tried to remember what had occurred the previous evening. Glaring at the clock, she couldn’t prevent a curse from escaping, "Damn it."

"What?" Bud demanded as he maneuvered himself into the bathroom.

"It’s AJ. I’ll have to call Sue and ask her to take him to daycare."

"I’ll do it, sweetie."

"In what?" she gritted out. Their spare car had been in the shop for two days now. It was going to cost over a thousand to fix the dilapidated piece of junk. It was just one more thing with which she had to deal.

He looked at her woozily, still trying to work it out in his head. He finally gave up and slammed the bathroom door.

While he showered, she called her friend. Sue didn’t sound particularly happy to have to go out of her way, but said she would be there at nine. "Just have him ready and at the curb."

Next she called Sarah MacKenzie, thinking, «Your boyfriend did this to me, so you can damn well help me out of this situation.»

Mac sounded distracted but agreed to pick her up at eight forty-five. "I have to be in court at ten thirty so that will work out okay." Harriet had a vague idea where the Fifth District was located and figured that Mac would have a better idea of where it was.

"Who was that?" Bud seemed a bit more alert now that he’d showered and shaved.

"Mac. She’s going to give me a ride to the police station."

Confusion returned full-force. "What? Why?"

"You don’t remember?" she snapped. "Your new best friend said I had to get the mini-van before ten this morning or they would tow it to the impound lot. We don’t have the money for that." He looked like she’d just slapped him in the face. At that moment it didn’t sound like such a bad idea either. "I swear to God, Bud. I don’t know what you and Webb were up to but..." At the mention of the spy’s name, sudden recollection turned his face beet-red.

"Harriet," he groaned. But, the throbbing in her ankle fueled her anger. Her glare effectively shut him up.

Holding onto the furniture, she pushed past him toward the bathroom. She tried to keep her voice modulated for the sake of the kids. "Get dressed, please, and get AJ ready." At the door, she turned and, giving into her aggravation, snapped, "Try not to scare him any more than you did last night!" Seeing his face twist in pain, Harriet had to slam the door or burst into tears.

After washing her face and running a comb through her hair, she stumbled into the bedroom and randomly threw on some clothes. It was a painful struggle, not helped by the fact that Jimmy was starting to cry. Using one of Bud’s crutches, she finally made her way down the hall to hear Bud pleading with AJ, "Come on big guy; help me out here."

"Daddy? Why did you hurt Mommy last night?"

«Damn, he saw it!» She entered AJ’s room, unsure just how Bud would react.

Bud was standing there, staring at his son in abject shame and horror. She wondered briefly what he was thinking, but she didn’t have time for him right now. "AJ," she said softly from the doorway. "Daddy didn’t hurt me. It was an accident."

Bud looked at her, gratitude and self-loathing fighting for dominance across his face. "Bud, I need you to stay here until I get back. If you can carry the baby downstairs for me, I’ll watch him down there today. I don’t think I can manage both him and the steps with my ankle hurting this badly."

"Harriet, stay here. I’ll go get the van."

"No! Webb told me to get it. I’m..." She wasn’t sure that the police would give it to him. As drunk as he’d been at two, they might want a blood test or something. Besides, she wanted to talk to Mac. She turned away and went into Jimmy’s room where his wails were almost frantic now. She changed him and rummaging through the diaper bag, found a bottle of premixed formula that cost a fortune but came in handy for trips. He greedily drank down the whole bottle and burped mightily. She kissed him softly before laying him back down. Walking into the hallway, she could hear Bud making AJ breakfast downstairs. However, the normal high-pitched chatter her son usually excelled in was absent this morning.

Making it down the stairs took forever and by the time she reached the front door, she truly empathized with Bud’s condition. Grabbing up her keys, she peered outside. "Mac’s here. Make sure AJ’s out front right at nine. Don’t make Sue wait!"

"Harriet!"

"Not now, Bud." She couldn’t even bear to look at him this morning. Opening the door, she was primed to face Mac, who was already halfway up the walk.

"Harriet? What happened to you?" Mac ran back to hold open the door of her ‘Vette. "You should have told me. I could have borrowed Harm’s SUV."

Harriet didn’t answer. Mac managed to get the crutch wedged between them and looked over at her injured friend. "Where are we going?" she asked softly.

"Fifth District police station. You know where it’s at?"

Mac gasped in surprise but said, "Yeah. What happened?"

Now Harriet could vent her anger. "Your Mr. Webb is what happened. Your boyfriend brought my husband home at two o’clock this morning. Two o’clock! I just know he’s gotten him into some kind of agency mess. Mac, you’d better tell him to stay away from Bud. If I have to warn him off, I’ll say something we’ll all regret. Keep him the hell away from Bud!"

Mac sighed and checked her mirrors for traffic. When she eventually responded, Harriet had to strain to hear her. "I don’t know what happened last night Harriet, but..."

"Just tell him!"

"I can’t, Harriet. Webb and I aren’t together anymore. I seriously doubt that he’ll be stopping in at JAG again. It…it was rather ugly."

Harriet could hear the pain in her friend’s voice, but she was hurting too. "Great! You break up with him and he takes it out on Bud."

"Harriet! That’s not fair. Just tell me what happened."

But she couldn’t. She sat there staring out the window. It was nearly 0945 before they pulled up in front of a seedy looking patrol station in one of the city’s worst neighborhoods. Located just a few blocks from the Capitol, drunks, drug addicts, whores and other miscreants were stumbling out of the building after a night of ‘sleeping it off.’ Webb’s words came back to her and she knew that he’d been telling the truth. There wasn’t any covert mission requiring Bud’s expertise. Webb really had bailed Bud out of jail. Why hadn’t Bud called *her*? Why call the spy? What had he done that required the skills of a CIA operative?

Mac jumped out to help Harriet struggle out of the car. "I’ll go inside with you. Just lean on me."

"No. You’re already late. I’m just picking up the car."

"Are you sure you’re going to be able to drive with that foot?"

"It’s my left foot, ma’am. I’ll be fine." Not giving Mac a chance to argue, she wrenched the crutch free of the car and hobbled up the station steps.

Slumping against the front counter, Harriet waited for the desk sergeant to look up. Once he did, she barely mustered up the energy to request her minivan’s return. Growing frustrated by his lack of response, she made her request for a third time, "I said, can I go out back and get my car?"

The desk sergeant reluctantly turned his attention back to her, "You have a car out back? What the hell?"

"Yes. May I go get it please?" She knew better than to take out her frustrated anger on bleary-eyed policeman.

"Name?"

"Harriet Sims-Roberts." She gave both names, unsure of what Webb would have told the policeman on duty. "My husband, Bud Roberts, was here last night. I’m sure it was all a big misunderstanding."

The sergeant looked through his log book, his consternation obvious. "Don’t see no Roberts listed."

She took a deep breath. "A Mr. Clayton Webb said you would hold it till ten. Please, I don’t want it towed." She let the tears she was holding back shine in her eyes.

"Look. Just sit over there, lady. I have to check this out." He pointed to a line of battered white scoop chairs lining one wall. "You got the keys on ‘ya?"

After releasing her keys to him, she hobbled over to the chairs and sat down in the sturdiest looking one, which happened to be next to the doorway leading to the back of the station. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes trying to ignore the pain in her ankle and her heart. What had Bud done? And, why had he called Webb? She wanted so desperately to believe that it was all Webb’s fault.

Harriet let the sounds of the station claim her attention. It was quiet this early in the morning. Evidently all the overnight ‘guests’ had been released or moved. Down the hallway, an argument was making its way towards the front desk.

"Damn it, Lieutenant!" an angry female voice snapped. "It was a righteous bust!"

"Keisha, calm down," a deep baritone answered.

"Calm down! That drunken little gimp propositioned me. I had him dead to rights. I had the report written up. I came in this morning to haul his pathetic ass down to arraignment and you tell me that you did a favor for a friend?"

"Look. I...we owe this guy a favor or two. What’s the big deal? The poor schmuck was drunk and disorderly. You did everyone a favor by hauling his ass in; you got him off the streets. He...oh, come on, detective.

"It’s because he’s a white boy, ain’t it." Her voice was bitter.

"Well, since eighty percent of the johns you bring in and arraign are white, I think that’s just a little unfair," the man huffed in anger. "How about that he lost his leg in the service of his country? How about the fact that he called the ADCI of the goddamned CIA to bail his ass out? You really want to go there?"

"So? You telling me I’m under investigation by the CIA?"

"Knock it off, Keisha. It’s over. Soon as Roberts comes in for his van, it’s a done deal. You understand me, Detective?"

Whatever grumbled response the detective made was lost on Harriet. She was too busy realizing that it was her husband they were discussing. Bud had propositioned a…?

"Lady? You okay?"

Harriet gazed up at the desk sergeant. "I..."

"Lady!" She pushed him out of the way, looking around wildly. "Jesus!" He barely got a waste basket into her hands before she began to retch. She’d eaten nothing since last night, but bile violently rose up in her throat, needing release.

"Sergeant!" an authoritative baritone demanded. "What’s going on here? Who the hell is this?"

"Name’s Roberts, sir. She came in for a van. I was checking the log when..."

"Oh shit," the female voice said. A rich brown hand touched her arm. "Honey?"

"Please," Harriet begged, "just leave me alone. Can I get my van now?"

"Bring it around, Shackelford. You want someone to drive it home for you, Mrs. Roberts?" A large white man in a suit accompanied the baritone voice.

"No. Just…please! I...Oh God…."

Harvard Yard
2024

"Mom?" Jimmy’s voice nudged her out of her memories. "We’re almost there. You’re sure you’re okay?"

"Yeah, sweetie. It’s just been a busy time."

"Yeah, well, look at the bright side. AJ’ll be home until he starts his internship at Hopkins. And, you’ll have me to keep him in line for the next two weeks. It’ll be just like old times, Mom."

James could smile and laugh. His old times didn’t go all the way back to the black days. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he had his own dark memories of Bud over the years. But AJ still remembered the horrors leading up to the divorce.

There were a lot of disappointments over the years. Bud hadn’t shown up at the West Point commencement either. He’d called up at the last minute claiming to have an important meeting he couldn’t miss. Harriet allowed herself a bitter smile. She’d really thought he would show up for AJ’s graduation today; if for no other reason than to try to lay a guilt trip on his eldest son. «Dear God, he is so like Big Bud.»

August 15, 2004
JAG Ops
Late afternoon

She stared at the statement trying to make some sense out of it. How could the bank have made such an error? She knew there was still five thousand dollars in their account; Bud had promised he would leave that much. What else could go wrong today? Rubbing her right temple she thought about the grocery list in her pocket. There was no choice: she had to go to the grocery store.

Longing to bury her head in her hands and just give into the tears that threatened, she inhaled a shaky breath. She had to be strong; strong for them all. Bud was just going through a bad stretch. He’d spring back from it. He always sprang back. He’d even sprung back from that debacle back in June.

Realizing just how instrumental Clayton Webb must have been in keeping Bud from a solicitation charge, she’d left the police station in a dangerous daze. She’d had no idea how long she drove, or how she made it back home. However, once she was back in her driveway, she fought back another bout of nausea. Not certain how she was going to face Bud, she’d reluctantly climbed out of the car. She needn’t have worried. Jenny Coates met her at the door, bright-eyed and terminally perky.

"Hey, Lieutenant! Lieutenant Roberts had to get into the office. He wasn’t sure who to call, so he asked me if I could come out and stay with Jimmy."

Harriet still blushed with shame over the way she’d rounded on Jennifer. Her accusations were vile and sanctimonious. Harriet never reported the young woman for slapping her. She’d deserved it. In tears, Jennifer had stormed down the street to the corner market and called Commander Rabb to pick her up. It turned out that she’d even loaned Bud her car to get into work. The Commander had charged up the walkway and pounded on the door. When she opened it, Jimmy in her arms, she’d seen the fury in Harm’s eyes. However, he must have seen something her face, because he just stood there, staring at her.

"Harriet? What the hell is going on? Did you really say those things to Coates?" She’d slammed the door in his face. She couldn’t face him; couldn’t face any of them. When AJ came home from day care, she numbly listened to his day’s activities. Even he knew something was wrong and stomped up to his room in tears.

Mac had stopped by later that afternoon but Harriet hadn’t answered the door. She thought about calling her parents; however, she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. Her ankle had developed a throbbing ache, but she ignored that, too. Finally, Commander Rabb had pulled up again, this time with Bud in tow. "I don’t know what’s going on, but you two better work it out!" he’d demanded before revving the motor and roaring off down the road.

Bud had been so contrite, bursting into tears the moment the door closed. "Oh,God, Harriet! I’m so sorry."

"Why?" she’d whispered. "Why did you go to a prostitute, Bud?"

The tears dried instantly, replaced by furious indignation. "I didn’t! You know me better than that. I was drunk, sweetie. She waved me over; I thought she was in trouble."

She’d wanted to believe him. Maybe too much, now that she thought about it. "Why did you get drunk in the first place?"

He’d removed his tie, saying nothing. For a while, she was distracted by the sight of their youngest son lying on a blanket in the middle of the floor. Jimmy’s little arms were reaching for his feet in the most adorable fashion. Bud barely noticed. Grimacing, he finally looked at her, "The lists came out."

"I know that."

"I should have been on it this time."

"Not necessarily. You knew this might happen."

"Damn it, Harriet! I’ve done good work!"

She’d nodded, fighting the urge to point out his not-so-good work. "But you knew it could happen. The board told you it could, probably would, happen. What’s this really about, Bud?"

"That’s what this is really about. Isn’t that enough?" He closed his eyes and a shudder ripped through him. "I’m a lousy husband and provider."

"No, you’re just a lousy communicator. Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you call me last night? I could have found Commander Rabb for you. Why did you have to call Mr. Webb?"

"You think I didn’t try and call Rabb?" But from the way he said it, she hadn’t been so sure. "I tried him---and the Colonel. Of course, they were probably together, probably laughing at me."

"Bud!"

He shook his head and flopped down into the chair that had been his haven during his recovery. The television with the X-Box was still in position so all he had to do was just start playing. She thought for a moment that he would pick it up, but his fingers clinched tight. "He really embarrassed me yesterday in court."

"Was it your fault?"

"I don’t know." He’d sounded so defeated. "Oh sweetie, it’s just been hard. After screwing up Turner’s case and yelling at Mikey like that, I just…."

"Mike lost our son, Bud. So maybe you overreacted. It happens. But that was several months ago. Why haven’t you called him? This isn’t like you to let things go on this long. He’s your brother! Reach out to him for God’s sake!

"Someday," he sighed.

She’d tried so hard to understand. Jimmy, however, chose that moment to start screaming piteously.

"Why does he do that?" Bud demanded. "What’s wrong with him? AJ never cried like that."

"He didn’t? Gee, who was that then?" Gingerly, she bent down to pick up the baby. Bud made no move to help her.

Things eventually settled down. He even tried to make love to her two nights later. But, when she was forced to reveal that her ankle still hurt, he never asked again.

Two months later, after a month-long TDY, he came home with a huge grin on his face and a thick brown envelope in his hand. "Here! Happy....Happy...Happy whatever!"

Harriet stared at the money sticking out of the envelope. "Oh, my God. How much money is this? Where did you get it?"

"Ten thousand dollars! I won it!" The exuberance on Bud’s face was wild and unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

"You won it? All of it?" She stared from the money to Bud, then back to the money.

"Card game," he proudly stated.

"A card game? How much did you risk?"

"Hey!" he said defensively. "I won!"

She took a deep breath. "Fine."

At the time, she hadn’t known why the money had upset her so much. Now, as she stared down at her depleted bank account register, a cold certainty consumed her. Looking around to see who was in the bullpen, Harriet took note of the changes around her. Things were more tense than she’d ever remembered. Sure, Mac and the Harm were finally dating; but they seemed to be waiting for something bad to happen because of it. The Admiral? Well, ever since he’d yelled at her when she questioned him about Paraguay over a year ago, she hadn’t been completely comfortable around him. When he’d broken up with his fiancé, she’d stayed completely out of his way. She’d been glad that Coates had taken the brunt of his anger on that one.

Today, she was just glad she didn’t see Jenny anywhere. She and the yeoman definitely had issues that would require a lot of groveling on Harriet’s part. Right now she just couldn’t bring herself to ingratiate herself to anyone.

"Excuse me, Commander Turner?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." Turner was very formal with her. He and Bud still treated each other with kid gloves.

"Have you seen Lieutenant Roberts?" she asked, with equal formality.

"I believe he left right after court this afternoon. Is there a problem?"

"No. Of course not." She turned away, knowing she could look out the law library window, but dreading to do so. She almost swore out loud when she saw that the van was gone. Hurrying to her desk, she picked up the phone and dialed Bud’s cell phone number. It instantly went into voice mail. Right now she really regretted asking him to save the ten thousand dollars he’d won instead of using it to buy a nice second car. They’d only recently junked their second car. Bud had withdrawn half the money a month ago, telling her he had to help his dad out.

How the hell was she supposed to get home now? She checked her wallet and groaned. "Twenty dollars."

"Harriet?" Mac stood beside her.

"Ma’am?" she squeaked, as if Mac had caught her doing something wrong.

"You don’t look well Harriet; is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. I..."

Mac pulled her into her office. "It’s okay, Harriet. Look, I’m your friend; I know something’s up. What is it?"

Harriet took a deep breath but found she couldn’t tell her the truth. "The bank made a mistake in our checking account. They say there’s no money but I know there’s supposed to be five thousand dollars in that account. I...payday isn’t until Friday and I...I have to get to the bank---and now the blasted car’s gone. Did Bud happen to tell you when he’d be back?"

Mac looked at her for a very long time and Harriet thought for sure she was going to call her a liar. All Mac did was sigh and grab her purse. "Come on. I’m through for the day. I’ll drive you to the bank and you can figure it out."

Harriet had insisted that Mac stay in the car while she went inside. She waited in line, not noticing the other patrons who came in after her.

"Lieutenant Sims?"

She turned and gasped. "Mr. Webb? What are you doing here?"

His smirk was tired and she briefly thought that he looked older than she had remembered. "I bank here, too."

"Oh. Sorry. I guess I don’t think about things like that."

"No reason why you should. Things going fine at home?"

"Of course!" she turned away from him. He had no right to ask such a personal question.

"Next," the teller called.

Harriet carefully explained her problem and, though he looked at her oddly, the teller checked the records. He was friendly but firm. "No ma’am. As you can see, there was a substantial withdrawal last week: five thousand dollars."

A nagging headache, her constant companion lately, started throbbing again. "Okay. That’s okay. I, uh, I’ll just need to make the withdrawal from our joint savings account then."

"I’m sorry ma’am. Mr. Roberts closed out that account as well."

She heard the teller as if from a distance. There was no money. No money. Nothing.

"Harriet!" Webb shouted. Strong arms held her as she sank to the cool marble floor.

She’d never fainted before. She thought it would be like sleeping or going under anesthesia. However, even though she couldn’t move, or open her eyes, she heard every word spoken around her.

"Oh, dear," a woman exclaimed.

"Mommy, is that lady dead?"

"Hush, Tommy."

"What’s happened here?" a man demanded.

"Mrs. Roberts fainted, sir," a voice she recognized as the teller’s explained.

"Show me some place that’s quiet---and private." Webb sounded in complete control of the situation, though she thought she heard a waver in his voice. He grunted softly as he lifted her into his arms.

The room he carried her into smelled of lemon furniture polish, covering a stronger lemon antiseptic cleaner. The leather rustled as he laid her down on a couch. It took her moment to realize that he was sitting down as well; her head resting on his leg. "Harriet? Come on, Lieutenant." She thought she could hear concern in his voice. But that made no sense. Webb didn’t care about anyone. Did he?

She didn’t want to wake up. It was easier this way. She didn’t have to deal with any of it. She had no money. She had no car. She had no control. She’d have to grovel to her parents. She knew she should be crying, but she just lay there, focusing on how good his fingers felt sifting through her hair as he coaxed her back to the harsh reality that was her life.

"Clay!" Mac’s voice intruded on her solitude. Harriet felt an irrational anger towards her friend as Mac yelled at Webb. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

She felt him stiffen. "Getting mixed up with the good and moral people of JAG again. What else?" The bitterness in his voice was harsh and shamed her.

"Clay. Please. Don’t." Mac’s voice was so sad.

«Go away. He’s here for me. Someone is worried about me for a change.» Harriet briefly gave in to her own bitterness.

Clay continued to pet her hair. "Harriet? Wake up, now. I know it was a shock, but you’ve got to wake up. Your children need you."

"What was a shock?" Mac’s voice was closer and Harriet knew she was kneeling next to the couch. Mac really was a good friend. Harriet added guilt to her feelings of inadequacy.

"What the hell is going on over there, Sarah?" Webb hissed. "I always thought Roberts was the only one at JAG who had his head screwed on straight."

"What do you mean?" Mac demanded. Anger had replaced her sadness. "Do you always have to be such a jerk? If you know why she fainted, just tell me."

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything further. He must have overheard what had happened with the teller. Must have heard that Bud had cleaned out their accounts. It wasn’t like she’d been the least bit quiet or circumspect. Actually, she was rather surprised Mac hadn’t heard her all the way out in the car.

"I found some smelling salts," a new voice offered.

"She doesn’t need them. Do you, Harriet?"

«Damn him!» But her eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring into beautifully concerned hazel eyes.

"Harriet?"

She sighed and turned her head to meet Mac’s worried gaze.

"I’m sorry," Harriet whispered.

"Don’t be," Webb reassured her. "It was a shock."

"You heard?"

He nodded. "Where is he?"

Reminded once again of the reason for her present predicament, Harriet burst into tears.

Harvard Yard

June 6, 2024

James had just helped her down off the shuttle bus when they heard a familiar, "Hey guys!" They turned in time to see Mac, gold star gleaming from her uniform collar, push through the mob. Before either of them could say a word, General Sarah MacKenzie threw protocol to the wind and hugged Harriet. "Hi, Jimmy!" She smiled at him over Harriet’s head.

"I think he would really prefer, James," Harriet whispered in Mac’s ear.

Mac laughed softly. "Oh, pooh! I outrank him. Well, I’m sorry I missed the mad house at the Medical School.

"No you’re not, ma’am," James said formally. "We’ll get some pictures back at the house."

"Ma’am? Of all things!" Mac sighed and touched the row of ribbons on her dress blues, then studied his spanking new uniform. "Okay. But afterwards, at the house, we go back to Aunt Sarah –got it?"

"Yes, ma’am." The smile on his face belied his solemn response.

Mac mimicked his demeanor for a moment then glanced around at the crowds surrounding them. "Where’s my godson?"

"On the bus with the rest of his class. Don’t worry, though. We have the two tickets for the ceremonies at The Yard." Harriet bit her lip and stared out over the mass of brightly colored sashes and hoods. "It’s so crowded."

If Mac saw the anxiety on Harriet’s face, she ignored it. "Well I’m glad I had a connection. I can’t believe they only allow two tickets per graduate."

"They’ve done it that way for almost four hundred years ma’am," James told her.

"Yeah, right. I can just see someone telling John Adams that he could only have two tickets to Quincy’s commencement," she laughed. "Come on. We’d better join the crowd."

Harriet took a deep breath. She was among friends. Her children were safe. There was no need to panic.

Roberts Home
Labor Day, 2004
Late Afternoon

Mac bustled about in the kitchen. Harriet had abjectly apologized to Jennifer Coates, but the young woman had made her excuses when invited to their annual picnic dinner. Not that Harriet really blamed her. She certainly didn’t want to be here, feeling as she currently did. But, the boys needed some fun time. At least Mike, once he’d heard about Bud’s absence, had tried to fill in the gaps. Unfortunately, Big Bud had also offered his ‘support.’

Standing by the front window, watching the neighborhood kids race their bikes up and down the street, she listened to Mike keeping AJ occupied in the living room. Jimmy slept in his carrier. In the family room, Admiral Chegwidden sat and endured Big Bud’s ramblings about the way things should be.

She owed the Admiral so much. There was no doubt that Bud was UA, but the Admiral had fixed the paper work to show he was on leave. That would soon run out though. Then what was she going to do? How could she keep the house if Bud didn’t come back?

Everyone had offered to help. She’d found out that the Admiral had told the bank manager he would co-sign any line of credit she and the children needed. She was sure that it had been Webb who had ultimately tracked down the van.

She’d sucked it up and called her parents, too. They’d sent money, but her father had made it clear that he wouldn’t maintain the house for her. "You come stay with us, baby. We’ll look out for you and our grandchildren."

"Where are you Bud? Please come home," she whispered.

"You know, you could have prevented this, Admiral!" she heard her father-in-law’s blustery accusation from the family room. "You could have promoted him if you wanted to. A man has to find respect somewhere."

Harriet struggled against the tears. They would do her no good now. Instead, she concentrated on the only target that presented itself. Full of righteous anger, she stormed into the family room and confronted Big Bud. "Shut up! You have no right to insult Admiral Chegwidden in my house!"

"Harriet." Chegwidden came to stand next to her. He was too late with his calming reminder; she was on a roll.

"Fault! You want to find fault? Go look in the mirror, you miserable bastard!" Big Bud sat there stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish dying on the beach. "He’s turning into you!"

"Harriet!" Mike, followed by little AJ, joined them. "Uhm...AJ, you want to go find Aunt Sarah?" Her son practically fled the room.

"Listen to her," Big Bud blustered. "This is the thanks I get? I try and help, bring along Mike, who was treated like shit by his brother..."

"Shut up, Dad," Mike sighed. "Come on Harriet. Jimmy needs you."

Harriet shook with rage. Pointing her finger at Big Bud, she issued her warning. "You just leave my friends alone. They’re all I’ve got now."

"Oh, bullshit! He’ll be back," Big Bud insisted. "He just has to deal with the fact that he’s not the hot shot he pretended to be." Doing a complete one-eighty from his argument with Chegwidden, he said, "He’s a loser. Time he accepted that fact."

Harriet’s fist connected neatly with her father-in-law’s cheek. The jarring pain served to bring her back to her senses, but it was too late. Chegwidden wrapped his arms around her and swung her away from the irate older man. Meanwhile, Big Bud was holding his cheek and using words that his grandchild had never heard – even a few that shocked the Admiral.

As Chegwidden carried her down the hallway, he snapped at Mike, "Get him out of here, Midshipman!" The Admiral was in full command mode. "Now!"

Big Bud followed them, still swearing. "She hit me! I can have her arrested."

"Shut up!" Mike gripped his father by the arm.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can handle your old man? You aren’t man enough! You’ve never been man enough."

Harriet struggled to get out of Chegwidden’s grasp. However, they were saved from what might have happened by the front door opening. Harm stood there looking from his CO’s restraining hold on Harriet to Mike’s grasp on Big Bud’s shirtfront. Mike’s other fist was mere inches from the man’s face. "Uhm...we found him."

Chegwidden released Harriet and demanded, "Where!"

Mac had retrieved Jimmy from his carrier. She stood there, holding the baby while her pant leg was fisted in AJ’s chubby little hand.

Harm spared Mac a sad glance then softly revealed, "Atlantic City."

"Christ." AJ ran his hands over his head.

"He lost it? All of it?" Harriet struggled to keep her voice steady. Hysteria would serve no purpose but to upset her children. She would deal with it. She had no other choice.

"Uhm...no. Actually, he was ahead; way ahead. He didn’t want to leave the game, but uhhm...between Webb and I, we got him back to the hotel."

"Webb?" The Admiral looked back at Mac who just closed her eyes. "Why the hell was Webb involved?"

"Webb was the way we found Bud in the first place. He was registered under a fictitious name. He was spending cash like it was water. Webb tracked him down, though. It’s, uh, his specialty, Admiral."

Harriet finally found her voice. "Bud didn’t come home with you?"

"He wouldn’t come, Harriet. Not willingly. I’m sorry."

"Excuse me," The Admiral snapped. "The last time I checked, you outranked him."

"Sir…." It was a cross between a sigh and moan. "He’s..."

"I don’t care how embarrassed he is! He should be. Now take me to him."

"Sir? Could I speak to you outside?" Harm’s eyes shifted to where little AJ was staring at them, wide-eyed.

Harriet went to kneel before her son. "AJ, remember when you promised to be Mommy’s big boy?" Standing there, his finger in his mouth, his free hand still gripping Mac’s pants, he slowly nodded. "I need you to go back to the kitchen and help Aunt Sarah with Jimmy. Will you do that for me?"

"Is Daddy ever coming home, Momma?" he whispered. The fear in his voice affected all the adults, including his grandfather.

"Sure, he...ooph," Big Bud gasped in pain. Harriet hoped that Mike would hit his father again.

Harriet brushed a lock of hair off of AJ’s sweaty forehead. "I don’t know, baby."

"I’m not a baby! I’m a big boy!" A lone tear rolled down his cheek.

"I know you are," her voice broke. She almost fell over when he hugged her neck.

"It’ll be okay, Momma. I’ll take care of you.

"Oh, God." And at that moment she vowed that she would never again hurt her son. She would be strong for him. Taking a deep breath, she hugged him back. Then, gathering him into her arms, she stood up. Kissing him soundly on his cheek, she bent back down and stood him before her. "I’m very proud of you, AJ Roberts. Tell you what. Let’s take care of each other, okay?"

"Okay. Come on, Aunt Sarah, we have to check on the hamburgers."

With one long glance back at Harm, Mac let the little boy lead her back to the kitchen.

Harriet turned to the men and motioned the Admiral and Harm towards the porch. She wasn’t sure what Harm had to say, but she knew that her son had excellent hearing. When Big Bud started to follow them, she rounded on him. "Go back to the television or go home. I don’t need any more of your crap!"

Big Bud started to argue, but Chegwidden stepped between them. His glare was enough to send Big Bud, muttering under his breath, back to the family room.

In as strong a voice as she’d used in a very long time, Harriet demanded, "Now. Where is he and what’s his story?"

Drake Hotel
Atlantic City
Labor Day Night, 2004

The room was seedy, well off the main drag of the Atlantic playground. Webb, looking tired and angry, sat on a rickety desk chair, arms crossed, glaring at an unrepentant Bud Roberts. Even faced with a glowering CO and his very angry wife, Roberts appeared relaxed and happy - too happy. Harriet watched his eyes. They darted back and forth, never settling on anything; certainly not on her.

"D’you know how far ahead I am?" he demanded excitedly. "Oh man, Harriet! Don’t worry about a thing!"

"Lieutenant Roberts!" Harriet was sure the Admiral’s roar could be heard back in Washington. "You *will* stand at attention!"

Bud looked like he was about to argue, but he stood up straight. The exuberant smile never left his face.

"Mister, if it weren’t for your wife and family, you’d be sitting in the brig right now.

"Why sir?" Bud said. "I’m on leave. I know that."

Harm and Webb exchange startled looks. The Admiral growled dangerously, "Really? And how do you know that?" Bud’s eyes shifted but he remained silent.

"Answer me, Lieutenant!"

"I just knew, that’s all. Hey, don’t worry. You won’t have to fudge the records for me any longer." Without seeking permission, Bud walked over to the desk and, giving Webb a familiar smirk, nudged him out of the way. "I wrote out my resignation. Harriet’ll give you hers when she gets back."

"Bud!" Harriet swayed but stiffened her spine when Webb took a step towards her. "I’m not resigning."

"Oh? Okay, then. I guess we can use the insurance."

"Son, I want you to come with us and...," the Admiral began, but Bud just shoved the letter into his hands.

"Nope. I’m ahead by about three hundred thousand." Bud’s glare focused on Webb for a moment, but jerked away when the spy merely rolled his eyes in disgust.

Rounding on the Admiral, Bud puffed out his chest. "That’s three hundred thousand in cold, hard cash! I could never make that kind of money in the Navy! Never! Not with the way you treat me at JAG."

"Lieutenant Roberts! You are now officially UA. You will return to Washington with us and you will report tomorrow morning."

"But I’m ahead!" he cried. For the first time since she walked into the room, Harriet saw tears in his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Roberts!" Webb exploded. "Would you listen to yourself? How long do you think you can stay ahead? And what’s going to happen when you crash?"

"I won’t crash! I’ve got a system!" When Webb rolled his eyes again, Bud’s narrowed. "I know what you’re trying to do. I know how you operate. You hate all of us."

"On the contrary, Roberts, I don’t hate any of you," Webb wearily defended himself.

"Sure you do. You think we talked Mac out of dating you."

Harriet groaned. "Bud, please. Come home. We’ll talk."

"After the game." He looked at his watch. "It’s starting up again in an hour. You can come and watch me." He pointed to a case on the bed. "Look Harriet. I can finally..."

"Enough!" Chegwidden snapped. "You’re under arrest, Lieutenant. I rather think Commander Rabb and I can pick you up if necessary. However, if you want to truly embarrass your wife, I can call the MPs.

She huddled down in the back of the Admiral’s Escalade. Webb sat next to the Admiral, while Bud sullenly shared the middle row with Harm. At some point he’d finally agreed to return with them. His "just until I can process the paper work," had everyone shaking their heads. Harm didn’t know what to say, but felt like beating some sense into his old friend.

Webb had insisted that Harriet take possession of the case containing Bud’s winnings. "Don’t worry, Harriet, he was telling the truth. He won it fair and square from men who could afford to lose it."

Harriet was still trying to make sense of it all. Her sweet, darling husband had finally succumbed to demons that he’d obviously battled throughout his entire life. She silently vowed to get him the help he needed. But one part of her knew that if he didn’t want any help, she couldn’t make him accept it.

It was nearly dawn when they arrived at her house. They found Mac asleep on the couch as they all trooped inside the den. Standing, she yawned. "Mike helped by getting Big Bud out of here." As Mac accepted the comfort of Harm’s embrace, Harriet was surprised to see a resigned smile cross Webb’s face. Bud, however, lashed out maniacally, "See? They belong together!"

"Yeah, I guess you’re right, Roberts," Webb agreed. Mac blushed a bright red and looked down at the floor.

"And Harriet belongs to me!" Budd added.

"Does she?" Harriet gasped at Webb’s reply. But when Webb looked down at her, his face was completely blank. He pointed to the money. "What do you want to do with that? You want to keep it in the house?"

"That’s my money! You can’t have it!" Bud would have lunged for the case, but Chegwidden grabbed his arm.

"Go ahead and give me a reason to put you somewhere you can’t escape."

Harriet just wanted to go to sleep, but she suspected that if the money were left in the house, Bud would be gone within hours. "Please, Mr. Webb. I’m afraid to keep it here. Don’t you have some type of safe?"

"Harriet!" Bud screeched.

"Mommy?" Young AJ stood at the top of the stairs. "Daddy?"

"Go back to bed, AJ!" he snarled angrily.

"You’re insane, Roberts," Webb calmly pointed out. Reaching down to grab the case, he paused. "Harriet, please bring me a pad and pen."

She pointed to the desk where the phone sat. Webb hastily scrawled out something, tore the page off of the pad and handed it to the Admiral. "Just to keep everything on the up and up, AJ.

Chegwidden nodded and slipped the scrap of paper into his pocket. "Not a matter of trust, Webb."

"What was it?" she tiredly inquired.

"A receipt for the money. I’ll keep it in my safe for you. If anything happens to me between now and the time you want it, my mother will get it for you."

"Don’t say that," she whispered. "I don’t want it."

He looked at her sadly. "Sure you do. Just make sure..." his voice trailed off and he looked at Rabb. "Can you two give me a ride home?"

Rabb looked embarrassed and Mac appeared shocked, but the three of them left together. Harriet finally turned to face her CO. "Sir, thank you for bringing him home."

The Admiral just stood there for a moment, assessing the young couple. "Actually, Harriet, I’m really tired. I don’t suppose I could stay in your guest room."

She knew immediately what he was doing and was thankful he’d put it on a level where she couldn’t refuse. Amazingly, Bud saw through it, too. "Sure! Stay! That way we can get it over with in the morning. I’m resigning and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!"

"We’ll see, Roberts." Chegwidden stood there with her, watching as Bud climbed the stairs. "You going to be okay? We can talk if you….aw, hell, Harriet. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’m here for you, you know."

She looked up to where her sons slept and shuddered. "I have to be okay — for them. I don’t know what to do, Admiral. He won’t talk me. We used to talk about everything. He used to listen. I can tell he’s worried about something. Could Mr. Webb be right? Is he..." But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

"Yeah, darlin’. I hate to say it, but I think Webb’s right. This is not the Bud Roberts I’ve known for eight years. This is not the man you married. No one would balme you if you decided to…."

"I have to try, sir," she hurriedly reminded him.

The Admiral sighed heavily and removed his jacket. "We’ll be there for you, then."

"Thank you, sir." She put her foot on the first tread. "I think I’m going to be needing all of you."

She’d had no idea just how prophetic those words would be.

Harvard Yard
June 6, 2024
Early Afternoon

The three of them sat together watching the various graduate departments stroll in. The Yard was a sea of colors. The trees shaded them and Harriet knew that she would never be able to find her son, or her husband among the various regalia. Still, they were both out there. She leaned over and whispered to Mac, "Where’s Harm?"

Mac shrugged. "He said he would meet us at the shore. He didn’t want to leave AJ all alone."

"Is he okay?"

"He’s fine; grumpy because he couldn’t come. But I told him he’d have to use the wheel chair in order to attend the graduation. Well, you know how that went over."

"But he has a broken leg!"

"The man is stubborn as ever." But the smile on her face showed them both that even though AJ was 75, Mac loved her former CO – and she seemed to be in love with her former partner, too. It was the oddest of relationships. The three of them shared a huge house in McLean. Harm had retired early and the two men had set up a law practice together.

"After missing out on James’ graduation too, I’m sure he’ll have a speech or two prepared," Mac laughed.

"I like his speeches." Harriet tried very hard to say it with a straight face, but, for the first time since seeing all the people at the Medical School, she laughed. "I bet they’re better than the ones we’ll have to suffer through here."

"Hah! At least AJ’s a grad student. I don’t think I could sit through all the honorary degree speeches this afternoon."

"Hey!" James shouted. "I see Dad! Look, he’s carrying the standard for his class!"

Harriet stood on tiptoe and, even across The Yard, immediately found the man who had saved her and her children’s lives nearly twenty years ago. Smiling at the memory, she knew that he’d also saved her soul all those years ago.

Roberts’ Residence
September 7, 2004
Early Morning

She’d hoped that once he woke up the next morning, Bud would suddenly be cured; or, at least ashamed enough to listen to her pleading. However, he was adamant, "I just want to get this over with! I told you that!"

"Harriet, do you want to stay at home with the kids today?" the Admiral asked.

"No. I’ll be in."

Bud, however, hadn’t waited for her. He had braved the Admiral’s wrath by accepting the ride into JAG. He’d even worn his uniform. By the time she’d arrived, Bud had signed and filed all the papers. The entire bullpen was in shock. Jenny Coates was crying in the ladies room. Bud stopped by Harriet’s desk on his way out, "Call the spy and let’s get that money into our own account."

"No need. I’m right here, Roberts. Sleep well?" Webb, for the first time since breaking it off with Mac, entered JAG Ops.

"I want my money, Webb!." Bud didn’t seem to mind that everyone in the building appeared to have come into the bullpen to stare at them.

"Patience, Roberts. I have a meeting with Rabb---you’ll have to cool your heels for a few moments." Harriet wondered what the three of them had set up after they’d driven off last night.

After ten minutes of watching Bud pace the bullpen, she was relieved when Harm finally called her into his office. Webb and Mac stood at opposite ends of the small office. All eyes were focused on her. "What do you want us to do, Harriet?" Harm asked firmly.

"Give it to him. I don’t want any of his ill-gotten gains."

She’d expected Harm to make one of his impassioned speeches, but it was Webb who took charge. "Harriet, you have to think about your children. Do you really want to move them into some small apartment? Aren’t they going through enough turmoil right now? This is your chance – probably your only chance – to get any kind of money to support them."

"You talk like he’s going to…" A vision of Big Bud appeared in her head. "Oh damn. What am I going to do?"

Webb looked from Mac to Harm, but instead of answering her question, he softly predicted Bud’s future. "He’ll hit a bad streak and come crawling back to you."

"I don’t want him crawling back! I want my old Bud. I want the Bud I fell in love with. I want the Bud I married….the Bud…the…the father of my—my children!" Harriet couldn’t believe it had come to this. Webb observed her tearstained face and found it difficult to maintain his dispassionate stance.

"I know. Harm, tell her what we came up with last night." He went to look out the window while Harm laid out the details.

As expected, Bud ranted and raved once they put their plan into action. "Half! No way in hell!. She can have the ten thousand I originally took, but no more than that. I need a stake for my next game. Anyway, it’s MY money!"

"Really?" Webb didn’t turn away from the window. "What money? I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about."

"You gave the Admiral a receipt! I saw you write it out!" Bud looked wildly around the office before screeching, "I’ll sue you both! I will!"

Webb turned and very softly replied, "This is the reason why we used to commit people." Bud was brought up short. Real fear entered his eyes.

"I’m not crazy! I just want to provide for my family!"

"Fine!" Harm yelled. "You go out and find a job with a civilian law firm. You’re a good lawyer. You’ll be in demand."

"Fine! Harriet? Take me home!"

The next month was more stressful than any she could recall; even worse than the days following Baby Sarah’s death. Bud had returned home with her but isolated himself in the family room, just as he had done upon his return home from Afghanistan.

She slept alone.

He did make an effort to talk to AJ, but every time he approached Jimmy, the baby would cry uncontrollably. After a while, Bud stopped trying. AJ seemed content to see his father at home, but kept looking to Harriet for some kind of guidance on how to interact with his father. She had no idea what to say to her young son, but spent each night reading him to sleep.

Bud looked for a civilian job. Even though he had a dozen interviews, he always came home dejected. "Nobody wants me," he’d whine. Harriet was beginning to wonder just how he presented himself at these interviews, but she dared not ask. He was so unstable these days, she was certain he would blow up at her.

He began staying out late at night. Harriet knew he was still gambling somewhere, though with what, she wasn’t sure. Webb had brought Harriet just enough of Bud’s winnings to make up the shortfall in her budget for the month.

Bud finally drew up papers and threatened to file them against both Webb and the Admiral. Not wanting to cause Harriet any further pain, Webb and Harm had escorted them both to the bank. There Bud had tried to sweet talk her into a joint account for the entire amount. Remembering the day when she’d had no way of buying groceries, the day she’d fainted into Webb’s arms, firmed her resolve. "No, Bud. That won’t work this time. We’ll put half into our joint savings account. The other half goes into an account for the kids. At least you can’t take that away from them."

"Harriet! I’m their father!" He didn’t seem to mind that everyone in the bank was staring at them.

"Then start acting like it," she’d hissed.

Things got worse, and if weren’t for the fact that her sons were home, she would have worked late every night. Once again, everyone pitched in to help and she discovered a wellspring of love that would sustain her for many years to come.

Mac and Harm made sure to invite her and the boys out at least once a week. The Admiral started to suggest that they go over office procedures during working lunches. No one who saw them surrounded by reports and papers would ever suspect that they were quietly dealing with her fears and heartaches. They’d finally returned to their earlier relationship and both seemed happier for it.

Even Webb, who insisted that she call him Clay, started popping up at the office more often. Once, he even took her and the boys out to dinner. "Hey, I hate to eat alone." That he agreed to little AJ’s suggestion of Chuckie Cheese, made a big impression on her son. That single, thoughtful action had touched her more deeply than she really cared to admit.

He’d picked them up at 7:00 and returned them home by 9:30. She didn’t see Bud until she left for work the following morning. He was sound asleep on the couch and, as she stood there looking down at him, her heart broke all over again. She didn’t think she could stand any more pain.

And then, early in November, the bank called to tell her that Bud had closed out the joint account. She wasn’t really surprised, but any hope she’d harbored for their relationship had died that afternoon.

She should have been mad that Webb had found out, but when he showed up at her door that night, she’d wept in his arms.

He’d been so sweet and gentle with her. She’d wanted to wallow in her grief and cry out her pain to the world. He’d simply held her and gave her the assurances she’d needed to carry on.

"He’ll lose it all and then perhaps he’ll come to his senses." Webb took a deep breath and offered her his handkerchief. "Do you want me to find him again?"

"No. Let him work it out." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I just don’t know what I’m going to tell the boys."

"I’ll do whatever I can, Harriet."

"I know, Clay. You don’t know how much I appreciate it. I think---I think I need professional help, though. You probably think I’m crazy, but Judge Helfman gave me the name of a family counselor. He’s supposed to be one of the best. I’m really considering it. I just…I need…everything just feels so---and the boys…"

"I think it’s a good idea."

"You do?"

"Harriet, there’s no shame in admitting that you need help. Most of us do at some point. Be glad that you’re wise enough to know when you need it. And Harriet?"

"Yeah?"

"Don’t put it off. Too many people make that mistake."

"All right."

Doctor Josiah Williams was a godsend. No push over, he asked her some pretty tough questions, but was gentle with AJ. He gave them both tools for dealing with their pain. She was just glad that little Jimmy wouldn’t have to deal with such painful memories.

A few weeks before Thanksgiving, Webb stopped by with pizza and a movie. Little AJ happily sat between them to watch Shrek. After she put both kids to bed, Harriet came back downstairs. "Thanks, Clay. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me...for us...these past months. I know it must really hurt you to be around Mac and Harm."

He looked away for a moment, but asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, Mac broke up with you and..." At the look on his face she gasped. "Mac wasn’t the one who broke it off?"

He shook his head. "Let’s just say it was a mutual decision. It never would have worked out." He grabbed up his coat. "She couldn’t stand my job and I couldn’t stand her pity."

"Pity! Why would she pity you?"

He began walking to the door, but turned just before reaching it. She almost gasped at the raw anguish on his face. "Because of what happened...in Paraguay…..I can’t…..I can’t have kids. Mac? Well, she really wants kids."

And he was gone. She’d never really thought about the long-term price he’d paid for serving his country. Everyone at JAG had been focused on Mac’s return and Harm’s resignation. Now, as she thought about what Webb must have gone through, she found herself crying for the man who had helped her and the boys so much.

She considered taking the kids down to her parents for Thanksgiving, but they’d already made plans for a cruise. She’d decided to take the boys out for a nice dinner, however, Mac got wind of her plans.

"Hey," Mac had reminded her, "we always have Thanksgiving together - at least we do when we’re all in town. Let’s do it for the kids. Forget about everything else and just go for the joy of the moment."

Harriet wasn’t so sure what the joy of the moment was, but she went out and bought a turkey. Everyone else was bringing a dish to accompany the turkey. Feeling rather daring, she called Clay to invite him. When he told her he had other plans, she felt a bit deflated.

Dinner went well, but she was glad when everyone left. She moped around the house remembering happier Thanksgivings. It was nearly midnight when the door creaked open.

"Bud?" she whispered.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked around the house, as if trying to get his bearings. "Are the kids up?"

"Bud, it’s midnight." She was afraid to say much, afraid that he would run away. Then, unexpectedly, she was suddenly afraid that he would stay. "Coming in?"

"Just for a minute. I...I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would stop by."

She tried hard to hold it back, but the sob ripped through her. "This is your home!"

She could see the disinterest on his face. He was well and truly lost to her. He didn’t even look the same. His face was pastier and his clothes were certainly flashier than he’d ever worn. "I just stopped by to tell you that I’ve been invited out to a private game in Vegas. D’you want to come with me?"

"No," she sorrowfully whispered.

"You know, Harriet, I don’t need your goddamned pity! I’m somebody now."

"Oh, Bud. You were always somebody to us. Why wasn’t that enough?"

"You don’t understand."

"You’re right. Come in here and help me understand."

"I’m still on a winning streak. I have every penny of the money I took, plus more. Lots more. You need some?"

"No. I don’t need any. We live within our means, Bud."

"That’s no fun. I wanted to...I wanted to make it so you’d be able to quit."

"Well I can’t do that now, can I?" She didn’t bother to keep her bitterness from escaping. Dr. Williams had told her to release her negative emotions. Somehow though, she didn’t think that he would approve of her lashing out at the source of her anger. "I’m not waking up the kids just so you can break little AJ’s heart again."

"I want to see my son, Harriet. He’s MY son, too."

"When you get it out of your system, we’ll make arrangements. Right now, you’re sick. You need help."

"You and Webb rehearse this load of crap?"

She gasped in surprise. "You’ve seen Clay?"

His bitter laugh grated on her nerves. "Yeah, he’s tracked me down a couple of times. I even took him for three grand once. Man, was he pissed! Terrible player, your Mr. Webb. He’s always too busy talking about you---like you were the Madonna or something---instead of paying proper attention to his hand." Bud’s laugh had gained an ugly tinge. "Got him fooled, don’t you? Just imagine! Little Harriet has pulled the wool over the Big Bad Spy’s eyes. What a hoot!"

"Where is this coming from? What have I done to you?"

"You killed our baby," came his unexpected accusation. "It was your fault!"

She didn’t know why his attack didn’t surprise her. "You really are insane."

"Yeah? That’s what your boyfriend wants me to think. Wants me to get help. Hah! He’s just afraid I’ll be richer than he is someday."

"Boyfriend? Who?"

"Come off it. You think I don’t know what’s going on? You and Webb!"

"I see." She was more weary than angry. "Why don’t you just accuse me of sleeping with Harm and the Admiral while you’re at it?" At his sly, almost hopeful look, she gathered her anger like a shield. "Get out! Don’t come back! Oh, and while you’re out there, file for a divorce."

"I might just do that."

Though her heart was no longer in it, she felt she had to try one last time. "Bud, can’t you see something’s wrong with the way you’re acting?"

"The only thing wrong with me is that I let you drag me down in the first place. I’m just trying to provide for you and AJ."

"Have you forgotten that you have another son? A son YOU named? Your SONS, Bud! Forget about me. You have a responsibility to THEM. You say Clay thinks you’re insane? Listen to yourself. Or better yet, consider this. You’re doing the one thing you swore you would never do."

"Yeah? What’s that?"

"You’re turning into your father."

For a moment she thought she’d gotten through to him. He looked like he was going to throw up. Instead, he just shrugged. "It’s hard being a father."

"No shit! You should try it sometime."

"Look Harriet, I stopped by to see if you wanted to come with me. I guess I better find someone else."

She just stood there wishing that he’d slapped her instead. When he left she made her way to bed and curled up into a ball. The next day, dressed in her bathrobe, she drove AJ to daycare and Jimmy to his sitter. Once home, she placed a call to the JAG switchboard and called in sick. Drawing her legs up on the couch, Harriet could only stare into the cold fireplace, too weary to light a fire.

At ten, the doorbell rang. She ignored it. Whoever it was tried the knob. Sighing, she waited, not even afraid. She heard the snick of the lock disengaging and barely glanced up when he opened the door.

"Do that often, Clay?"

"Oh, there you are. I was worried about you."

"How nice. You sent him here last night didn’t you?"

"God, no!" He looked truly shocked. "Why would I do that?"

She shrugged, not knowing how much of what Bud had told her last night was true. "Because you’re my friend, Clay. And, despite your act of complete cynicism, I know you truly believe in happy endings."

"Not a lot of those in my life, Harriet. Hey, you consider me a friend?"

"Yes, I do." They shared a brief smile before Harriet cleared her throat . "You might as well come on in and close the door. I have heating bills to pay, you know."

"So. Bud came by last night?"

"You say you didn’t send him?"

"No I didn’t. I---no, I didn’t." He blushed and just as she though he might abandon her, Clay threw his coat over a chair and stalked into the kitchen. "You eaten today?"

"I’m a big girl, Clay. I can make my own decisions about food."

"Sure you can. You want eggs?"

"Clay!" She surged up from the couch and followed him into the kitchen. "Damn it, Clay! How did you know he was here last night? How did you know I was here and not at work?"

He hung his head, but finally admitted, "I stopped by after leaving my mother’s house last night. I was just going to see how things went. You know, see if the lights were still on..."

"And?"

"And you have a pretty big picture window over there. I saw Roberts standing in front of it. I---I waited to see what would transpire."

"And when he left?"

"I followed him to make certain he really did leave."

She gasped at his vehemence. "You can’t think he would hurt me. Not physically. Not on purpose."

"Not the old Bud. Not the guy who nearly convinced me to stare into the sun. Not the guy who convinced me that I really had a heart." His voice broke and he turned away from her.

"Oh, my God." Hesitantly, she walked up to him. "Clay?"

"I’m sorry." He tried to busy himself by preparing coffee. Harriet reached out and touched his arm, pulling him around to face her. His eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Up too late," he explained. "Need coffee."

Harriet merely stepped closer, pulling his chin down so that she could see the honest emotions clouding his eyes. "Please, Harriet. Don’t."

"Why have you done so much for us? Why did you bail Bud out? And stop shaking your head! I know you did more than bail him out: you got the police to drop the charges. You were there for me at the bank, too. Damn it, Clay," Harriet grabbed him by the collar of his navy shirt, "---you took us out to Chuckie Cheese! You’ve been there for us in so many ways…..I even have this house because of you."

"Rabb and AJ had more than a little to do with that," he insisted.

"But you helped. Why?"

He shook his head and sighed. "It’s complicated."

"So’s life. Tell me why, Clay" Harriet smoothed down his collar while he seemed to gather himself.

"At first?" he asked. Gently pulling her hands from his shirt, he stepped back and looked over at the bank of pictures covering one wall. "It’s like I told Sarah that day in the bank: Bud was someone I respected. He did the damnedest things, but always for a good reason. He loved you and the kids. He wasn’t afraid to talk about loving you and the kids. I know that, Harriet."

Looking down at her, his hazel eyes intent, Clay gripped her shoulders. Forced to look up at him, Harriet tried to gauge the emotions that seemed to be consuming him, but was caught off guard by his next words. "Bud had the one thing I’ll never have. Funny thing is, instead of feeling jealous, I was just proud to know him."

He released her and tried to turn away, but she held on to his forearms, urging him to stay close to her. He took a deep breath and shook his head in disbelief. "Harriet, the damn fool threw it all away. God, you don’t know how many times I tried to talk to him."

Feeling a strange need to console Clay, she patted his arm. "I think I do. Thank you for that. Thank you for trying, almost harder than I did."

"Why? Why did he throw it all away?"

Finally letting him go, she wandered over to the kitchen table while he finished making the coffee. Sitting there, crossing her flannel-clad legs and giving her uncombed hair a toss, Harriet Simms came to a realization. It was too new to mention and the embarrassment of being wrong loomed before her, but her intuition told her she was right. She just knew that he felt it, too.

Or maybe she was just going quietly insane. It was too soon to be feeling this way. Too many emotions were involved. Hell, what did either one of them really know about each other? As much as she tried to put it out of her mind, the possibility gave her battered heart the hope she needed.

When he joined her at the table she took the mug he offered and sipped at the hot brew.

Softly, as though ten minutes of silence hadn’t passed, she answered his question, "I don’t know why we weren’t enough for him. It’s the same question I’ve asked myself over and over again. What fatal flaw do I have that turned him against us, I asked myself. And the boys? Oh, Clay, those boys are the best of both of us. I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe Bud just couldn’t escape his past. My father-in-law is not exactly Ward Cleaver." Harriet laughed at the comparison, but the sad sound trailed off as looked up at him and confessed, "I don’t think he ever really wanted me to go to Vegas with him."

"What? What are you talking about?" Clay demanded.

"Well, if you had stopped in last night, I would have told you. The reason Bud stopped by? He wanted me to know he was on his way to a high-roller game. Is that what you call it? A high-roller?"

"Wait. Back up. Roberts at a high-roller game? That doesn’t sound right, Harriet. He’s too new."

"Too lucky, you mean. Maybe the men he’s playing think he’s too cocky and needs to be taken down a notch. Or that it’s all beginner’s luck."

Clay nodded his head decisively, "I’ll go out there."

"No!" She reached out and held him still. "No, Clay. You’ve been telling me for months how this would all end. Let it end. Perhaps then, he can move on with his life."

"You think he’ll come back to you then?" He tried to convince her that’s what he truly wanted, but she saw the truth in his eyes.

"Maybe at one time I did. It’s too late for that, now. He’d never be happy with us. He obviously wasn’t before."

"That’s not true!"

"Clay, I’m trying to be honest here. Oh, there was a time when he was happy with us. I was happy, too. Looking back, I just never worried about whether or not he’d take after Big Bud. That was his biggest concern, you know, being like his father. He fought so hard to be his own person, to overcome the neglect and the beatings. He felt so guilty for leaving Mike with their father and going out on his own. He learned how to stand up to his father, but..." She stopped and sighed just staring into the coffee cup.

"Harriet?" He rubbed his forehead. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I will," She stood up and smiled down at him, "once I take a shower and comb my hair."

"Are you free for lunch?"

She laughed and shook her head. "It’s the day after Thanksgiving. It’ll be a madhouse. Normally, I like working and staying away from the crowds. But, thanks. I mean it, Clay. Thanks."

He looked like he didn’t want to leave. It would be so easy to have him stay, but she needed to think, to plan, to get her strength back.

"I better go," he sighed.

As he stood to leave she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Call me later, okay?"

She couldn’t read his smile, but he nodded. "Okay."

Harvard Yard
June 6, 2024
Late Afternoon

The speeches were surprisingly brief. Crowds of people continued to push and shove in their efforts to reach the department buildings where the individual diplomas would be conferred.

"Leave it to my big brother to pick the department whose school is three miles from The Yard," James griped as he took his mother’s arm and offered his other arm to Mac.

Mac studied him and joked, "Fraternizing, Lieutenant?"

"Suit yourself, General." They shared a teasing grin as Mac took his arm.

Harriet saw his stepfather in the smirk. She was about to comment on the similarity when someone from the surrounding crowd accidentally rammed into her. Holding her side and trying to catch her breath, Harriet unwillingly sank to the ground.

James’ warning shout came too late as she succumbed to the panic attack she’d been fighting all day. Crying out for her husband, Harriet could only clutch at the wound that had healed twenty years ago.

Toys "R" Us
Falls Church
December 23, 2004
1300 Hours

She stood at the entrance of the vast toy store, berating herself for procrastinating. She hadn’t wanted to touch the hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was earmarked for emergencies and the boys’ education. Unfortunately, she’d barely managed to pay all the bills this month. Her paycheck could only be stretched so far. Bud had sent two hundred dollars ‘for whatever you need.’ That had been spent on AJ’s new shoes, gifts for the teachers and to meet the increase for the daycare workers.

The boys deserved a Christmas and she didn’t want to ignore the tradition of exchanging small gifts at work. So, she’d taken a deep breath, gone into the bank and transferred five hundred dollars of the money into her checking account. Bud’s name was no longer on any of the accounts. She refused to think about the way she was continuing to distance herself from Bud. Doctor Williams had said she needed to do so, for the sake of her children. "This kind of addiction is hard to lick, Harriet. He won’t just snap out of it. He needs intensive therapy to address the underlying issues. Frankly, I’m surprised that he handled everything so well as long as he did. He seems to have helped you lay a good foundation for AJ. Now you have to decide how much continued involvement he has with the boys."

"He’s their father. He should be able to see them whenever he wants."

"And you will have to deal with the aftermath of those visits."

For his part, Bud hadn’t even tried to see them since leaving for Vegas, but his phone calls came at the most annoying times. During the past month, Coates had made it a point to loudly announce his calls to the entire bullpen. One more "Lieutenant Sims, your HUSBAND is on line two" and Harriet would have to deck her. It wasn’t easy accepting Coates as the Admiral’s yeoman, but her experience with Lauren Singer had taught her that she could deal with a personal nemesis.

"Bud, you have my direct line. Why do you keep going through the main number? Better yet, why can’t you just call me at home?"

"I wanted to say hello to Jen. She still respects me."

Harriet didn’t even rise to the bait. "Why did you call, Bud?"

"I won again! I’m really raking in the bucks." The anxious excitement in his voice nearly broke her heart.

"That’s nice, I guess. Are you putting some of it away---like in a bank?"

"Why? You already blown the boys’ nest egg?" He wasn’t joking.

She didn’t bother to answer. His vicious mood swings made their appearance during every phone call..

"You know, if you brought the boys out here, you could keep an eye on me," he wheedled. "The weather out here is fantastic! Please, Harriet. I want you and AJ with me...and Jimmy, of course." His excited plea was interrupted by a long yawn.

"You’re not getting much sleep, are you?" she’d chided softly.

"Hey, this is usually my bedtime," he said. She looked at the clock, did the math and sighed. It would be eleven hundred hours out there. "Please, Harriet?"

"No, Bud."

"Damn it! You don’t love me any more."

"I will always love you." However, this time she hadn’t added, ‘please come home and get some help.’

Someone ran a cart into her heel, jarring her attention back to the overcrowded toy store. Sighing, she observed the mass of humanity with dread . At one time this store had been the the embodiment of warehouse efficiency. Now it was nearly impossible to squeeze by islands of stacked games and avoid the inlets of stuffed animals. Glad she had no reason to enter ‘Barbieland,’ She closed her eyes against the garish pink that was adding to the pain in her head. Peering through the huge crowd surrounding the electronics section, Harriet was immediately thankful that Clay had insisted on finding AJ the coveted Frogger game for the X-Box.

Waiting for a particularly thick knot of people to thin out, she absently mulled over her friendship with Clay. She was surprised by how much they had shared over the past few months. Sometimes their friendship seemed wonderfully right; at others she wondered why such a man would befriend her and schedule his time around another man’s children.

Ever since Thanksgiving, Clay had become an even greater presence in their lives. He’d stop by on Saturday mornings, usually loaded down with pastries or offering to cook breakfast. Then, after a second cup of coffee, he’d demand to know what work needed to be done around the house. He and Harm had already made several much-needed repairs to the place. The two men had worked quite well together, sometimes calling in Sturgis Turner when they were pressed for time. Mac and Harm were quietly dating; Clay seemed to accept it.

She’d thought that, as godfather, Harm would become the father figure in her children’s lives. Harm’s time, however, was stretched awfully thin. Not only was he helping Clay maintain the house for her, he was pulling extra hours at work. Bud’s terminal leave had left the Admiral shorthanded, forcing the other lawyers to pick up the slack. Dating Mac and accepting guardianship of Mattie left him precious little time to spend with to AJ, let alone the baby. Clay, on the other hand, always made time for AJ. It had already become a weekly ritual for Clay to take AJ Sundays, allowing Harriet a few hours alone with Jimmy. Slowly but surely, AJ was responding to the security and caring Clay lavished on him.

Clay thought nothing of escorting all three of them to kid-friendly restaurants for an evening meal. Just last week, she had related one hilarious tale that ended with a slice of cheese pizza slowly sliding down his shirt. Mac stood there in the break room, amazed. "Clayton Webb? The guy who wears the three piece suits – any one of which costs more than both of our wardrobes combined?"

Harriet took great delight in further pointing out, "He was in a tee-shirt and jeans. Thank goodness his sports jacket was draped over the back of his chair." She paused dramatically before finishing, "Pizza Hut doesn’t have a coat check." Mac walked away shaking her head. For a moment Harriet thought she’d seen jealousy flash through her friend’s eyes, but brushed it off as wishful thinking. «Sarah MacKenzie jealous of Harriet Sims? Yeah right.»

She wasn’t really sure how she felt about the fact that, once a week, he would take her to lunch. Although he’d never once asked her to dinner alone, those lunches revealed another side of the cocky spy. In fact, he seemed almost shy when they were alone together. She’d resolved to consider him a dear friend, much like Harm. At this point, anything else would be unfair to all of them.

"Honey! You want to move it along? I’ve got three other stores to get to." The woman behind Harriet rudely alerted everyone to the cause of the bottleneck. Pushing her cart into the stuffed animal alcove, she began looking for a particular dinosaur that AJ insisted that Jimmy would love.

He’d wanted to come with her, but she had convinced him that Harm and Mac really wanted to spend time with him. "They’re your godparents, sweetie."

"Oh. Okay."

She found the small pink monster, looked at the price, and groaned. "Twenty dollars? For this!" She briefly considered telling him that she couldn’t find it. Resigned to the extravagance, she tossed it into the cart and headed down another aisle. Action figures were next on her list. All she could see was an undulating sea of harrassed and determined shoppers.

Taking a deep breath, she suddenly gasped at the pain in her side. "Don’t say a word, Mrs. Roberts," a harsh guttural voice demanded. "If you want to see your children alive, just do as I say."

"What?" The knife dug in deeper and she could feel the warm blood trickling down to soak into her slacks.

"Shut up, lady. We’re gettin’ out of here. I’ve got men at your house. If you don’t produce the money, the brats die."

"Please," she whimpered, but evidently not loud enough for him to punish her again.

"Just get walkin.’ Head for the parkin’ lot---now!"

Frantically, she looked around at the sea of people shoving past her. Did none of them see that she was being abducted? Were they so intent on their own holiday greed that they couldn’t recognize the raw terror on her face? Or the man with the blade at her side? What was going on? Why was this happening? How did this piece of slime even know she had money? The answer screamed louder than the pain from the knife. «Oh Bud, what have you done?» She prayed she was wrong.

"Guess your husband thought he was hot shit. Thought he could play my boss. Nobody plays Mr. Venuso."

Six months ago she would have unquestioningly defended Bud. Now she fought back tears as she pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curses whenever she stumbled into someone. Hysteria bubbled at the edge of her mind. «I have to be strong. I have to do this.»

"Keep goin.’ Good girl, blondie. Now, see that security guard? You so much as look at him funny, and I’ll gut you both. Then I’ll go after those kids of yours."

"Please don’t hurt my babies. I’ll get you the money."

"Believe it, blondie. Your old man is fuckin’ with the wrong people. The boss knows how to handle his kind." Outside in the bright afternoon sunlight, he shoved her across the parking lot. She could feel the point of the blade digging a little deeper into her flesh. "Hurry it up," he hissed. "The bank closes in an hour."

"I have to get my bank book." She had to get to her babies. Harm and Mac were there. They wouldn’t let anything happen to the babies. Unless...she added her friends to her frantic prayers. They stopped and waited for a car to pass, only it slowed down. Suddenly, the man yanked her away from the cart she’d been clutching. Using unnecessary force, he wrenched the back door of the sedan open and shoved her onto the back seat. Climbing in beside of her, he forced her down onto the floorboards.

"This is really stupid. We should have waited," the man behind the wheel snarled.

"You’re fuckin’ pathetic! The bitch said she’d be here. Well, here she is. Simple pick-up. Anyways, the bank would have closed before this one would’ve gotten through that crowd. You wanted to wait ‘til Monday? Shit, who knows what Roberts would’ve done by then?"

"The boss’ll find him."

"Yeah? Well, this’ll make it easier."

She tried to take it all in, but she didn’t understand. "Please. I’ll get you the money. You’ll let me go then, won’t you? You’ll leave my babies alone?"

He yanked her up to sit next to him. Now that they were out of the store, she could get a good look at him. He saw her looking and laughed. "Yeah, have a good look. You think I’m afraid of you, blondie? You think that Mr. Venuso is afraid of you or the damned Navy. She tried that shit too. In the end, the boss made her talk. They always do."

"Who?"

"Your old man’s trick, that’s who!" He teased a tendril of her hair with the edge of his knife and laughed. "Didn’t know he was doin’ her did’ja?"

"I don’t even care," she whimpered. She really didn’t. Whoever Bud was bedding was of no concern to her anymore. Putting his children in danger? That pissed her off.

"Really? She said you knew."

"What?"

"C’mon, blondie. ‘Cordin’ to her, you accused them of screwin’ around six months ago."

Harriet regarded her abductor with a dazed expression, "Coates?"

"Yeah, Jenny Coates. Sexy little piece. Bitch has a mouth on her, but we got around that." His reminiscent smile made Harriet’s blood run cold. "Her little phone call to your house worked like a charm."

Harriet closed her eyes, trying to make sense out what she’d just heard. Coates had gone on leave three days ago. Hadn’t she been headed someplace warm? It all fit, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Being justified in her wild accusations held no significance now.

"There’s the bank. Turn in here." The driver had to wait while a line of traffic passed by. Finally, they were in the parking lot.

"Keep the engine runnin’. We won’t be long. Will we, blondie?"

"No. I’ll get the money."

She was vaguely surprised to see only two people in line. A man and a woman were signing for travelers checks. The teller waved the couple to one side to complete the transaction.

"Next?"

Focusing on the teller’s face, she nearly stumbled. The man gripping her arm shoved her forward once again. "P-please. I need to make a withdrawal."

Clay looked her right in the eye and nodded. "Of course, ma’am. Do you have a register slip?"

"N-n-o. It’s a savings account for my sons. I don’t know w-which form to use."

He smiled at her and she zeroed in on his eyes. She drew on the strength she saw there. Pulling out the appropriate form, he stood there with his pen poised, "Account number?"

All she could do was shake her head.

"That’s okay, ma’am. I’ll get it from your name and social security number. I will need some identification though."

Sweat mixed with the blood dripping down her side. The man gripping her arm squeezed tighter. "I...I left my purse in the car."

"Ain’t the social security number enough? Just give her the money already," her abductor snarled.

"I need some identification, sir." Clay remained perfectly calm, even managing to sound slightly offended.

"God damnit!" The man jerked her towards him, preparing to leave.

Clay ignored the outburst, acting as though a crazed man and a panic stricken woman were the norm in the bank. . "Ma’am, you can start filling out the paperwork, if you like. Sir? Perhaps you could get her purse from the car? We’re closing in ten minutes."

The man seemed torn, but leaned in to hiss out a warning, "I’ve got your kids. Remember that." Addressing Clay, he stood a little taller and agreed. "Yeah. That’s a good idea. She can start the paperwork."

As soon as her abductor stepped away from the counter, he was wrestled to the ground by the couple who’d been signing traveler’s checks. "FBI!" the woman shouted.

"No! No! You can’t….he’s got my babies! Clay, don’t let them do this!" Harriet screamed. Clay rounded the counter and took her into his arms.

"They’re fine, Harriet! They’re safe. Safe, Harriet. Calm down, now. It’s over. I swear they’re fine. Harm and Mac have them. I wouldn’t let anything happen to AJ and Jimmy. You know that." he crooned. Pulling back from her, he gently held her shoulders. "Look at me, Harriet. They’re absolutely fine. Believe me?"

Anguished eyes met his for a brief moment before she nodded and dove back into his arms, releasing the fear and anger she had held at bay.

"Oh, God! Oh, Clay!" she was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at him.

"Shhhhhhhh," he whispered, offering what comfort he could by rubbing at her back and shoulders. Gradually, Harriet calmed within his embrace. Releasing a hiccupping sigh, she eased her grasp on his jacket and just stood there.

When she felt him kiss her hair, she pulled back to stare into his eyes. "How did you know?"

"Roberts called me."

"Bud? He called you? When?"

"About an hour ago. Said he tried calling your house, but you’d already left."

"He," she pointed at the man who was still struggling on the ground. "H-he said Coates called the house."

Clay sighed. "Yeah, she talked to Harm and asked where you were. Harm didn’t think anything of it. I think he hoped you two were finally talking. Letting her know where you were was an unfortunate slip. He couldn’t have known she was fishing for information, Harriet."

"No. I understand. I don’t blame him." Slumping into his arms again, Harriet worried one of his buttons and looked up at him, "When Bud called the house, why didn’t he talk to Mac or Harm?"

"They’d taken the boys out back to build a snowman. When they didn’t answer, he contacted me. Gave me a brief rundown of what had happened. Told me he’d escaped and was trying to help Jenny. He thought of you and the kids first, though, Harriet."

He was trying to give it a positive spin, but she shook her head. «Bud, do you see what you’ve done?» "I want to know what happened? Everything, this time, starting with why this Mr. Venuso thought Bud had cheated him? Did Bud cheat him, Clay? Has he gotten that desperate?

"I don’t know. Bud sounded a little…vague. My understanding is that bet his whole roll and lost last week. He thought he could win it back; they all do. He needed a stake in the next game, so he accepted his host’s generosity. They let him hang himself with his own rope, Harriet. By the time he realized he couldn’t recoup his losses, he was into the mob for two hundred thousand. Must’ve pissed off Venuso when Bud wouldn’t agree to.…" he broke off and stepped away from her. "Never mind. Let’s get the boys."

"I have to get my van."

"One of my people will get it," he assured her.

Once they were inside of his agency car, she slid in closer to him and hugged her arms tightly around herself. Noting her rigid posture, Clay pulled her into the warmth of his body. He could feel the uncontrollable shivers she was trying to hold back. Pulling her closer, he was relieved when she finally let go and shyly placed her arms around his neck. "I’m so-sorry. I can’t st-stop th-thinking about it; can’t st-stop sh-shaking. You’re sh-sure the b-boys are---?"

"Absolutely. They’re fine. Checking on them was the first thing I did. Harm has a cell, you know. I apprised him of the situation and we mapped out a plan. Mac agreed to take the kids over to AJ’s; then, and only then, did we call for backup. The cops were just arriving when two men, claiming to be Metro detectives, tried to muscle their way into the house. They’ve been taken into custody and are facing federal charges."

"What about B-Bud?"

"I don’t know, Harriet." Clay sighed again and leaned back against the vinyl headrest. Placing her hand on his chest, she studied him closely. She could see the residual fear tightening the corners of his mouth. "He wouldn’t tell me his location. He’s scared to death Venuso’s ordered a hit on Coates and himself." He paused and stroked her hair back. "You knew about them, didn’t you?"

"Harm didn’t tell you that I pretty much accused her of sleeping with Bud six months ago?"

"No."

 "I’m not surprised, I guess. Even when I confronted her, accusing her of sniffing around my husband, her slap was damned convincing." Harriet rubbed her check in remembrance, "I really believed her---and him."

Easing herself away from Clay and buckling herself in, Harriet attempted a wobbly smile, "Let’s go get the boys."

They drove through the crowded streets. "Mac took them to AJ’s house."

"Yes, you told me. That was a good choice. Thank you, Clay."

"You’re welcome."

She wanted to say more, but she found herself blushing. Her feelings for him were a tumbled mass of gratitude and attraction. Maybe some thing more was there, too. Right now, she just wasn’t sure.

"Sometimes I wonder why I interfered that night. What if he’d gotten booked for solicitation that night? Would things have turned out any differently?" Clay turned onto the GW Parkway and headed towards McLean, Virginia.

"Who knows? Probably not. There’re a lot of things I wonder about right now, but..." The chirping of Clay’s cell interrupted her.

"Webb." By the hardening expression on his face, she knew who it was. "Fine. Yeah? Well, that’s something. I suppose." He looked at Harriet and held the cell against his thigh. "The Vegas cops rescued Coates." He went back to the phone and listened. "Are you coming…? No, I will NOT tell her that."

Harriet reached out and gently pried the phone away from him. "Bud?"

"Harriet? Is that really you?"

"Yes."

"Thank God he got to you in time! I was so scared. I-I didn’t know what to do."

"He saved my life, Bud. He got together with Harm and Mac to save our children’s lives. Don’t you understand now? You put your own children at risk, all for the sake of a---!"

"Harriet! It wasn’t my fault. I swear! I never told Venuso about you and the boys. Jen was the one who---but it wasn’t her fault either! She was terrified, Harriet. He threatened to..."

"I don’t want to hear it, Bud! I don’t care anymore. Just tell me this: are any more hit men coming after us? Any threats I need to know about? Is there somebody else out there you’ve pissed off, who’s going to take it out on me and the boys?"

Bud’s voice was subdued as he heard her rage filter through the cell phone. "The, uh, Vegas cops killed Sam Venuso. I don’t think that anyone else will come looking for you. I’m going to ah, be a little hard to find for a while. Jen wants to stay with me, but I told her she had to go back. Her enlistment isn’t up yet."

"How long, Bud?"

"I don’t know. I’ll let you know when things cool down."

"Damn you, you know what I mean! How long have you and Coates been lovers? All the way back to the Seahawk?"

"Hell, no. That would have been against Navy regs. We were on an aircraft carrier, Harriet. People get close. But she was always---we were always professional. And when that land mine went off…..I would have died right there if she hadn’t….aw, you’ll never understand. Jen’s a good person, Harriet. She’s always there for me. She stands up for me and respects me. I think she even loves me. You shouldn’t have said those awful things to her. She…we never…it wasn’t until..."

"That’s enough! I was wrong; I don’t want the damned details. File for divorce. Be happy. Just make it a clean break this time…" She closed the phone and began to cry.

Harvard Yard.
June 6, 2024
"Mom! Mom!"

Huddled on the ground and shivering, Harriet was unable to move. All the bad memories, all the fears, all the insecurities of that time came rushing back to cripple her. The pain in her side grew. The panic in James’ voice was as intense as Clay’s had been that night so long ago.

Once they had arrived at the Admiral’s house, she hadn’t waited for him to help her out of the car. She was already halfway to the front porch when he’d noticed the fresh blood staining the front seat.

"Harriet!" He’d caught up to her, intent on getting her back to the car and finding the nearest emergency room. She’d been so stubborn back then. Despite the dull throb in her side, she’d insisted on hugging little AJ and kissing Jimmy. Clay had only allowed her that brief time with her children before he’d swept her up in his arms and driven to the hospital. It had felt so good to let him take charge that night.

"Harriet. Where are you hurt?" Mac’s voice interrupted the forgotten memory. Her friend knelt by her side as James pushed people away from them. Some of them had actually encircled her, a human shield buffering her from the crowd. She knew what was going on, but was paralyzed by the ghosts of her past.

"Move aside, please. Let me through! Harriet?" Clay’s frantic voice still carried enough authority to galvanize the crowd as they made a path for him. "Honey? Harriet? What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Kneeling beside of her, he cradled her face and shot an accusing look at Mac, "One moment I saw her walking beside of you, the next she was doubled over." Confusion clouded his features, "James?"

"Calm down, Dad," James soothed. "A guy ran into her. Not hard enough to hurt her, but she just seemed to lose her balance."

"It’s not her heart, is it?" Clay worried.

"Oh, Clay. I don’t think so," Mac said. "You want me to call an ambulance?"

Harriet looked into her husband’s hazel eyes and once more drew strength from his love. "Shhhhh. It’s okay, Clay. I just...." she shuddered and reached out for him. He eased her up, resting her head against his chest.

Finding solid ground now that he realized his wife was in no immediate danger, Clay began to take charge of the situation. "James. Go find your mother some water, son."

"Here, sir." A young man wearing Divinity School colors handed him a water bottle. "I haven’t even opened it yet."

"Thanks." Clay cradled Harriet in his arms, urging her to take a sip.

She did as he instructed and felt instantly better. "I feel so foolish," she whispered.

"Why?" Encouraging his wife to finish the bottle, Clay looked up at Mac. "Sorry, Sarah. I’ll call the car to meet us on Cambridge Street."

"No," Harriet insisted. "You know how crowded it is. We’ll miss seeing him get his diploma. You should have gone with him like we planned. Just help me up, please. I’ll get us there."

"Calm down, honey." Clay saw the determination flash in her eyes and just nodded. "Okay, okay," he laughed, relieving some of the tension. "And you call me stubborn."

He helped her to her feet, then looked around. "You sure you can do this?" At her nod, he grinned. "All right. We’ll need to hurry, but we can make it I know a shortcut."

That earned him a groan from Harriet. "Oh, no you don’t. I know all about those short cuts of yours."

"Well, then, I’ve got a plan," he amended.

"Better. You’re good at those, dear."

Mac winked at Clay and took James’ arm. "Come along, Lieutenant. Between the Army and the Marines we should be able to convince the bus driver to wait for a bit."

As Clay wrapped his arm around her, his robe nearly engulfing her, Harriet whispered, "Clay, I’m so sorry."

"Nonsense. I should have realized what the crowds would be like today. With all the money I donate to this school…" his voice faded as he concentrated on plowing through the throngs of people walking towards the on-campus housing. "Had to go into medicine," he grumbled. "Couldn’t have picked a nice…"

"Hush, Clay." She smiled up at him. He’d been so thrilled when AJ had received his MCAT scores. Finally reaching the staging area, she pointed to the line of people still boarding the bus. "Plenty of time yet."

"Excellent. I just hope some seats are available."

As they waited in line, she leaned against him and considered the fact that he’d seen her fall. Shouldn’t he have been on the other side of The Yard? "How’d you get to me so quickly? You were supposed to ride back with AJ. Won’t he be worried? Shouldn’t you call him on your cell?"

He didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, he offered her his arm, helping her up the steps of the shuttle bus. After reading his moods for twenty years, she stopped mid-step and leveled a look at him. "Clay?"

"I gave up my seat. You don’t mind riding back with me, do you?"

"Gave up your seat? To who…oh. So, he came?" she whispered.

Clay nodded.

"Ma’am!" the driver called out to her. "I’m running a little late."

They continued up the steps and thanked the driver. James waved them over to the seats he had saved while Mac concluded a call on her cell. Harriet settled into one of the seats while aiming a smile of thanks at her son. All at once, she had a hard time keeping the tears at bay.

James looked at Clay. "What’s wrong, Dad?"

"Later, James," he replied tiredly.

Mac took Harriet’s hand in her own. "You saw him didn’t you? That’s why you reacted the way you did."

"No, but you did. When did he arrive? How did I miss him? It was so crowded, Mac." She knew James could hear every word, and as much as the mention of his biological father pained him, she needed to know.

"He’s a little hard to miss, Harriet," Mac sighed. She seldom made any comments about Bud. "He looks every bit the Vegas operator. He and Jen were standing off to the side where a security guard was hassling him. Clay…"

Mac looked over at Clay, signaling him to finish for her. He sighed. "You tell me. What else was I supposed to do?"

Harriet looked at her husband. Clay had spent too much of their married life smoothing the waters, attempting to make up for Bud’s desertion.

Part 2

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