Part 3
San Diego Naval Training Center
Tuesday Morning
January 13
I love my mother, but three days with her and Frank is about all I can take. I really wish I’d asked Mac to come with me. But things have been tense between us lately; longer than lately, really. Ever since Mic left, ever since she saved my ass from a watery grave, things have never really returned to normal between us. How the hell are we supposed to have a kid together when we can’t decide if we even like each other?
I pull up to the Marine guards and show my identification. Even though I’m in the uniform of the day, they study my picture, and then me, very closely. Nine-eleven changed everything; the war engraved it in stone. I wonder if Mac’s already here. Did she do anything over the weekend? Man, I should’ve asked her. Her birthday’s coming… oh, damn it. How the hell could I’ve forgotten? I’m really clueless sometimes. She’s going to bust my chops for sure. I’ll run into the base PX. They ought to have something; at least a card.
I smile at the girl behind the counter and go to look at the display of cards. I’ve no idea what to get her this year. Maybe I’ll write ‘I owe you dinner – at a restaurant of your choice.’ Of course, if I do, she’ll make me watch her eat steak. I’ve got to break her of that. I find a funny one and pay for it. I can’t think of a thing to write, so I go for the dinner invitation, sign it ‘Your best friend, Harm,’ and stick it in the envelope.
I find her heading up the steps to the base headquarters. Her hand is on the door and she has a worried look on her face. She doesn’t acknowledge me as I hop out of my car. She’s looking at something behind me. I turn and see the back of a Lexus heading down the street. I don’t recognize it, and it’s too far away for me to see the driver.
"Mac?"
At the sound of my voice, she jumps slightly. "Harm. You’re early. Have a nice visit with your mother?"
"Yeah. Uhm… who was that?"
I know she’s going to lie to me. "Uhm… a friend." Then she gets this stupid little grin on her face for about two and half seconds. The grin turns to rictus and her eyes blaze. Turning back around, I see the base XO, Charles Tarks pulling up in his convertible.
"Sa… Colonel MacKenzie." His face is red and he looks quickly at me. We’ve been on a first name basis for a week. Hmmm.
"Captain." Even though her voice could freeze hell, her eyes are blazing.
"Uhm… can we talk?"
"No, Captain, we cannot. You will stay out of my way for the remainder of our stay here."
What the hell happened? Something I should know about? She’s acting pretty cheeky for a lowly Lieutenant Colonel. The color drains from his face and he nods. "Very well, but it’s a pity that a JAG lawyer, a woman who’s supposed to weigh all the evidence, won’t give me a chance to explain."
Explain what? Oh, man. She should’ve called me. What happened? Is the case going to blow up? "Colonel, Captain. Suppose we take this inside."
Mac ignores me completely. She stomps down the steps and gets in Tarks’ personal space. "Are you or are you not married to the person who called me a common gold digger?"
Huh? Did something happen at the Officers’ Club? Did Tarks’ wife insult her? Did Mrs. Tarks construe something wrong? Oh, jeeze. Is there going to be a scandal over this? Not that Mac would be in the wrong. Wait a minute. What did she mean? ‘Are you married?’ Does she know Tarks? Oh, Mac.
"Not for… it’s comp…"
"Are you married, Captain Tarks?!"
"Yes."
"Then you’re damned lucky I don’t bring you up on charges. If you must walk around with your zipper undone, Captain, then I suggest you protect your son better." With that, she turns and stomps back up the steps, flings open the door to the headquarters office, and slams it shut.
Holy cow. We’ve got to talk. But if she won’t tell me, maybe Tarks will. "What the heck did you do to my partner, Captain?" Okay, so I’m on shaky ground here. But we’re talking Mac bringing him on up on charges.
"Nothing. All I did was suggest that she go sailing with me… and my family." I can see he’s already trying to build a defense here. Somehow, if his wife called Mac a gold digger, then I’m not sure she’ll back him up. "Look, it’s complicated, okay? Just tell your partner that she was obviously confused by my offhand suggestion and that she’d better stop calling me."
There’s no way. I look at the closed door of the office, stunned. By the time I turn around, Tarks is back in his car, pulling away.
She’s not in the front office. The petty officer’s busy making the first pot of the coffee. I find her in the office we were assigned. She’s sitting at her desk, but staring off into space. I don’t even think she realizes I’m in the office with her. "Mac?"
"Hmmm?"
"Mac, talk to me."
That startles her and she glances up at me, bemusement on her face. "What?"
"What happened between you and Tarks? You meet him in the Officers’ Club? What’s up with the invitation to go sailing with his family?"
"Oh? Is that what he’s saying? Oh, well. As long as he stays out of my way."
"Mac? What really happened? He could make trouble for you. With your record…" I can tell aright way that was the wrong thing to say.
"With my record? What are you talking about, Harm?"
"Now, don’t get upset with me. Tell me what happened. I’m your friend."
"Look, this is none of your business."
"Mac. Tarks said to tell you to stop calling him."
She sits there for a very long time. She’s looking at me, but not really seeing me. Then she takes out the paperwork that needs to be finished, and starts to make the phone calls we couldn’t make on Friday. It’s almost 1000 hours when the brisk knock on the door comes, and the base commander’s petty officer looks inside. "Colonel, the Admiral’s compliments, ma’am. He’d like a word."
"Thank you, petty officer." She stands. But when I start to follow her out, her look freezes me in place. "Can you finish that up?" She points to the pile on my desk. I should argue, but instead I manage a nod.
The clock tells me she’s only gone for a half hour, but it seems like half the day. I should finish the phone calls, but I know there’s something brewing. She’ll need me to back her up. Why didn’t she let me go with her? I’m sure Admiral Fitzpatrick meant us both. She always has to go off on her own!
When she returns, there’s a mean little smile on her face.
"Mac? Everything okay?"
"Oh, everything’s just fine, now. Little bastard wants to play hardball with me! Hah! Dumbass. In this day and age! Calling him! Hah! Numbers can be traced. Phone calls recorded. File a complaint against me! I’ll show his ass."
"Mac!"
Finally she spills it. Tells me about going to the Officers’ Club on Friday to play pool with a bunch of the people here. I hear all about Captain Charlie Tarks asking her to go sailing with HIM on Saturday. "In front of witnesses! I feel like an idiot not noticing the looks they were giving each other. They couldn’t tell me that he was married?! Noooooo. I had to find out the next day when he was 23 minutes late. I can’t believe he gave me his cell phone number and then let his kid answer it. Admiral Fitzpatrick believed me, though. He called Tarks into his office. Looked him right in the eye, and told him he was bringing him up on charges if I wanted. The little shit had gone to him and said I’d made harassing phone calls all weekend. I had him by the balls! Looked him right in the eye and said, ‘Fine, let’s pull the records. See how many calls you received and from where.’ Took the wind right out of his sails." She snaps her fingers.
"Are you going to press charges? Conduct Unbecoming?"
She blushes and shakes her head. "No. I don’t want to deal with it. The Admiral and I came to an understanding. Tarks isn’t going to be a real happy camper. Now, can we get this finished?"
"Yeah, in a minute. Let me get this straight, Captain Tarks, an officer you don’t really know, except that he’s XO here, invited you to go sailing, and you said yes!?"
Again with the look. She shakes her head in wonder. "You do focus on the important things, Commander. Can we finish?"
We work in strained silence until well past lunchtime, speaking only when necessary. I’m so mad at her. If she was bored, why didn’t she call me? I thought we were going to wait. I haven’t had a date in a year and she went sailing? Well I guess she didn’t actually go sailing. I wonder how she spent the rest of the weekend. Why didn’t she call me?
The petty officer announces that the Admiral wants a progress report. We’re in his office for the rest of day. Mac lets me take the lead, answering only when the Admiral asks for a specific clarification. She almost seems preoccupied, but the Admiral doesn’t appear to notice, or if he does, he lays the blame on the altercation in his office earlier.
"So, it’s JAG’s considered opinion that we bring the crewman to court martial?"
"Yes, sir." I glance at Mac but she signals me to continue. "Because of the wide reaching implications of the case, Colonel MacKenzie and I need to return to Washington. The base JAG deserves to take the case back. I know that if the man I was investigating beat me with a lead pipe, I’d want to be the one to finish the case. I understand he’s been declared fit for duty."
"Correct, and he called me this morning, expressing your same sentiments." We both turn at Mac’s snort. "You disagree, Colonel?"
"I have my concerns about conflict, sir. However, since this is a military court and not civilian, I suppose it can work. I just hope he can bring some kind of objectivity to it." She’s staring right at me, as if telling me she knows I couldn’t handle it. Man, I hate when she does that.
"You may have a point, Colonel. That’s why I’ve requested a strong second chair. Commander Pike, from Hawaii, will be flying in tomorrow."
"Kate! She’s an excellent choice, sir." Wow, it’s been a while since I saw Kate. Now that was an embarrassing moment. Kate, Mac, Renee, all in the same room.
"I’m so glad you approve, Commander." I have no idea why, but I get the definite feeling that Admiral Fitzpatrick doesn’t really like me. He straightens the papers on his desk, then stands and holds out his hand. "I do appreciate your efforts, Commander. Colonel." He gives Mac a warm smile. He definitely likes her. "Allow me to once again express my apologies for the behavior of Captain Tarks. I have a feeling he’s going to be reassigned very soon."
Mac grimaces. "I agreed to the notation in his file. I just hope that his new CO will read it."
"He won’t have a new CO. He’s finally getting another ship." There’s an evil gleam in his eye. Mac sees it, but she’s still tense. "Don’t worry, Colonel. There are no female crew on the Stoval, and I seriously doubt that the penguins care whether or not the captain of an ice cutter is married or not."
We stand at attention and take our leave. As we pass the petty officer, he stands. "Colonel. This came for you by messenger."
Mac takes the padded envelope and continues on into the office. She tosses the envelope on her desk, and I stretch to see if there’s a return address. There is none. She settles into her chair. She twists and turns her neck like she’s trying to work the kinks out. I spot something shiny under the collar of her alphas. Must’ve been her dog tags chain, but it seemed thicker.
"You want a neck rub?" I offer.
"No, thanks. I’ll be okay. So, flyboy, you have a good time with your mother?"
I’m a little taken aback by her question, but I nod. "I’m really sorry I forgot your birthday, Mac. I would’ve asked you to go with me, but it was deadly dull."
"No problem. I’m a big girl. I can amuse myself."
"By accepting a sailing date with the first guy who asked you?" Damn, why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
"Red light, Commander." But she says it almost as an afterthought. Her attention is on the envelope. She hefts it and then carefully examines it.
"Do you know where it came from? Should we be worried?" I’m really curious about what’s inside. Visions of Palmer float through my head. It’d be just like him to do something to Mac to get at me.
"I don’t think so." She rips it open. Peering inside, she groans. "You didn’t." She crossly mutters to herself. She must know who sent it. She tips out a blue box, the kind that fine jewelry comes in. There’s also a folded piece of paper. She opens that, and as she reads, her brow furrows in consternation. "How?" I might as well not even be in the room. Shaking her head, she reaches into her purse and pulls out her cell phone. After scrolling through several numbers, she mutters, "When the heck did you do that?" Putting the phone to her ear, she smirks at me. "I’ll be just a minute. I need to check on something. Hello." Her face lights up. Who’s she calling? Chloe? Harriet? "So? What did you find out? You are? Darn it. No, I understand… No, we knew this would happen; I’m not even surprised." She listens for a bit, the smile softening to the point that she’s looking pretty darn dopey. It has to be Harriet telling her about something that little AJ did. "I’ll have to let you know. Yeah. Later." She hangs up the phone and gingerly picks up the box. But then she remembers I’m in the room. Putting it down, she looks up at me. She’s worried now.
"What’s going on, Mac? Is something the matter?"
"No. Everything’s pretty good, I guess. Listen, you go and pack. I… I’ll make the travel arrangements."
"Hold on." I point to the box. "What’s that?"
"A jewelry box, Harm."
"I know…" Then it hits me. "That’s from Tiffany’s. Who sent you something from Tiffany’s?
She looks exasperated, and I’m not sure if the look is for me or for the sender of the jewelry. "It’s none of your business, Harm." Then she nails me with a look that I’ve come to dread. "Now is not the time or the place, but let’s just say that the talk we should’ve had a long time ago…" She shrugs her shoulders and a look of resigned sadness crosses her face. "It’s too late, Harm. I’ve moved on."
"Moved on!? What the hell happened this weekend? You have a fight with Tarks’ wife, and now you tell me you’ve moved on? I think I’m owed an explanation, Mac. What about us?" I know my voice is rising with each word, but I can’t help it. "I thought we were friends. I thought… Who? Damn it! How could you… it makes no sense!" And then, as if it will answer all the questions, I reach for the box. Before she can stop me, I open it and stand there stunned.
I stare at the plastic key chain. It couldn’t have cost more than four dollars, even inflated for tourist gift shops. A gorilla’s holding a baby gorilla and the words "San Diego Zoo" are the only things on it. There’s nothing else. She grabs the box, and I know that I’ve finally stepped over the line. Nothing that I’ve said or done in the past can hold a candle to this one moment of stupidity. I force myself to meet Mac’s venomous gaze, but she’s not even looking at me. Instead, she’s staring at the key chain, tears streaming down her face.
Women have always confused me. And none more so than the beautiful woman who’s resided in my dreams for the past few years. Why is she crying over a lousy souvenir? If it’d been something really from Tiffany’s, I don’t think I’d have minded quite so much. But I know this is serious. I know I’m losing her. Through my own inaction, yet again? How many times can I count on her to return to me from a lousy fling? And, it had to be a fling. I mean, Saturday she was supposed to have gone boating with Tarks. It’s Tuesday morning. Who did she meet? Where’s Farrow? Did she run into him out here? Who else could it be? Damn it.
She sighs and I barely hear her whispered, "Oh, Clay."
"Excuse me!?" I feel like I’m spinning out of control, unable to recognize the horizon, knowing I’m going to crash and explode into so many pieces they won’t find enough to bury. "What did you say?"
She comes back to herself, finally realizing that she spoke out loud. There’s a defiant look on her face. I’ve seen that look before. "Nothing. I didn’t mean…"
"You said ‘Oh, Clay!’"
"Did I? Then why did you ask?"
"You said Clay! Clay who? I only know one Clay." For a moment, my vision blurs in my anger and fear. How can she possibly… wait… she can’t. Even Mac has more sense than that, unless… "Did Webb contact you? Are you and he up to something? Does the Admiral know? Why the heck didn’t you call me? What’s the mission?"
Ha! I knew it. Her eyes are round as saucers, and her cheeks are redder than the time I saw her in Australia coming off the topless beach.
"Tell me, Mac. I’ll help you."
Her lips form a thin tight line and her eyes are sparkling with tears again. I’m going to kill Webb. "I can’t. It’s classified." Quickly she turns and, grabbing up her briefcase, rips open the door. She’s halfway through the outer office before she turns back. And before I realize it, she’s back in the office slamming the door. We stand there just staring at each other, until she closes her eyes for just a moment, as if to gather her strength. "Harm, please. Please, don’t do this again."
"Do what again? What the hell are you telling me here, Mac?" I’m so focused on her face, trying to read the familiar signs -- signs I’ve been able to read for six years now -- that I almost miss the slight movement. My eyes drop in time to see her grab the note resting on the pile of files. Damn it. How could I have missed it? But, without acting like a real Neanderthal, there’s not much to do but concede the round. However, I’m not willing to wave the white flag just yet. "What are you accusing ME of?"
"Accusing you?" She looks so tired. "I’m begging you. Okay? Just let it go. Let me go."
"I never had you." Even I know that’s a lie, but I can’t just drop it.
"I see. Then, you should be fine with this."
"With what?"
And then, the resolve kicks in. Damn, she’s a stubborn woman. She squares her shoulders, and her eyes turn to onyx. "With anyone in my life. With whomever I find to share my life. You never wanted me. So be it. That was my birthday present to me, Harm. I truly let you go."
"I want to hear you say it, Mac." I think I deserve that much. I need to hear her say his name, to say that she’s seeing Clayton Webb in some other capacity than work.
Instead, she stuffs the letter into her bag, and turns back to the door. "I truly let go, Harm. Maybe, when you’re past this, we can resume our friendship." Her voice drops to a whisper as she turns the knob. "I really value your friendship. I think I’ve proved that."
And now, I’m alone, more alone than I can ever remember. Even when she left me for the Guadalcanal it wasn’t this bad. Webb! Webb! No way. I’ll tear him apart. He’s no good for her. He’ll just end up hurting her. And then what? Will she come back to me? She can’t leave me. What the hell am I going to do now?
I have to figure this out. I have to find a way to make her understand. She wants someone in her life, then why not me? I gather up the papers, my mind on nothing but the sheer stupidity of her being with Webb. I have to make her see that this is so wrong, on so many levels.
I have no idea how I made it to the transport. I’m not even sure that I have all my stuff. Mac’s sitting in a seat on the aisle, the window seat empty. She’s telling me silently that she doesn’t want me next to her. Tough. We’re going to talk.
"Can I sit there?" She looks up at me, and I’ve never seen her so unhappy. See, this thing with Webb is no good for her. "Please Mac, we have to talk."
"Go away, Harm. The time to talk is long past." A single tear sliding down her cheek is my only hope.