Perfectly Imperfect
Disclaimer: Not mine, nor will they ever be.
I just own the typos and such.
"Look! Look! Oh, look at that one. That's pretty!"
I watch with a smile as you try to find the "perfect prettiest pumpkin" as you had told us earlier on the way here. I had to force myself not to laugh at the statement you made, but it was just so cute. At five years old, I wouldn't have expected you to be so eloquent with alliteration.
We've been here most of the afternoon, and you are still on your quest to find this pumpkin. "Is this the one?" I ask after your latest statement.
"Hmm…I don't know. Let's look at one more row first. Pretty please?"
"One more row," I emphasize as I hold up my pointer finger. "Only one more row."
Ten minutes later, we are half way through the next row of the pumpkin patch. I watch your angelic face light up and instantly I know you have found the pumpkin you have been looking for all day.
"This one! This one! This one!" You exclaim as you bounce up and down. "This is it! It's this one."
I turn my head and catch Harm's eye. He and I both noticed that it's the most asymmetrical, lumpy and deformed looking pumpkin on the lot, but it's perfectly pretty to you and that makes my heart happy in so many ways.
Harm kneels down to your level and examines the pumpkin with you. "It sure is a beauty," he tells you, as he ruffles your hair.
"This is it," you tell him. "This is the one. Can we get it pleeeaaase?"
"Of course we can," I tell you. "We promised you could pick whatever pumpkin you wanted, and we don't break promises."
You smile at me before you attempt to pick up the pumpkin.
"Whoa, there, Macho Man," Harm says he puts an arm out to stop you. "Why don't you let me carry the pumpkin, okay?"
You frown. "I'm strong, you know. I eat all of my vegetables," you tell him in your most grown up voice.
"I do not doubt that you are strong; and, by the way, vegetables will make you strong like a Navy man," Harm tells you with a beaming smile.
"Or a Marine," I interject and Harm jokingly rolls his eyes at me.
"But what if someone else bumps into you and it makes you drop the pumpkin? That wouldn't be good, would it?" Harm continues.
I watch in awe – always amazed with the way he can handle children. He's had his fair of practice throughout the years and it still never fails to give me this warm and tingly feeling inside.
After pondering what Harm said, you agree. "Okay," you say slowly. "It's perfect and I don't want it to get ruined."
Harm picks up the pumpkin and brushes off some of the dirt. "Okay, now what?"
"First, we go over there," you point to the table where you pay. "Then, we go to that place over there and decorate the pumpkin. You," you point to Harm, "can help me paint. And you," you point to me, "Can help me draw and color the decorations."
I smile at your "command presence" – I'm sure it comes with the territory of being the first born and the child of two military officers.
We followed your "orders" and decorated the pumpkin. Harm helped you paint it a mixture of navy blue, white and black to make it look like the night sky. And I helped you add galaxies of stars and a few airplanes, per your request, and made one of them a yellow to look like Sarah.
You have a new fascination with Sarah lately, ever since Harm took you the hangar to see her a few weeks ago – it was so exciting to you that it was all you wanted to talk about for days. You've even told your class for show and tell twice already.
Harm's voice rattles me from my thoughts. "You okay, Marine?"
"Yeah," I offer a small smile. "Just thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?" He asks, a combination of both curiosity and hopefulness.
"No," I shake my head. "Not today." I turn away quickly so I don't have to see the disappointment flick across his eyes. It's just too much to know I caused it.
It will be another fifteen minutes before the pumpkin is dry enough to transport, so I stay here and wait with it, and Harm takes you to the restroom and for a snack.
When you two return, I announce that it is time to go home. You voice your displeasure, saying you don't want the day to end, and I agree on some level, but another part of me just wants to go home so I can cry in private.
A half hour later, Harm pulls the SUV into the driveway. He opens the trunk to get your pumpkin out, and I open your door and help you get out.
You wrap your arms around my legs and hug me tightly. "Thank you so much, Aunt Mac. This was the best day EVER!"
"Anytime, AJ," I tell you as I scoop you into my arms.
"I like spending days with you and Uncle Harm," you tell me.
"Me, too, AJ, me too," I answer as I watch Harm hand over the pumpkin to Bud on the front porch.
"Did you thank the Colonel and Commander for the special day, AJ?" Bud calls out.
"Thank you, Colonel and Commander!" You repeat your father's words.
By now, Harm is standing next to us. "Hey, that's Aunt Mac and Uncle Harm to you, kid. None of this Commander and Colonel stuff," he says as he tickles you.
You squirm around in my arms and laugh before you give me a slobbery kiss and then crawl from my arms to Harm's arms and do the same thing.
For the hundredth time today, I wonder if this is what it would feel like to have a family with Harm. Today was such a perfect day, but it was only temporary, and that is why I have the urge to go home, crawl into bed and cry. This can never be my life.
You run up the porch to your parents who are waiting to hear about your day, Harm and I get in the SUV to leave, and just like that, the perfect day has come to a close.
It's a shame, too. AJ is almost five and a half now. In the perfect world, Harm and I would have figured all this out- we would be a couple and I would be pregnant with his baby. That was the plan. The deal. The promise.
Well, the promise was to have a baby together, but I don't think either one of us could have settled for being co-parents. We would have been a couple…a family – everything I have ever dreamed of.
Subconsciously, my hand finds its way to my stomach, wishing I could carry a baby someday.
"It's still early," Harm begins as we drive away. "Did you want to stop and get dinner before I bring you back your place?"
I turn my head to look out the window. "No, not tonight, Harm," I say softly. "I just would rather go home."
"We can get take out," he suggests, an eyebrow raised.
He looks hopeful, and I know my next words will hurt him. "I'd rather just be alone."
"Oh, okay," he replies defeated.
He told me he would always be there, that he would wait for me to be ready. I admire that about him; I love that about him…but I can't be ready. Not now. Probably not ever.
He is going to be a wonderful father someday…he needs to be with someone who can make that happen. I am not that person.
I think back to that night on ferry in Sydney Harbor where I told him he couldn't let go of whatever it was that was holding him back. And now – well the tables have turned, it's ironic actually. I know in my heart, I have to let go of him so he can have the family he deserves.
It's hard. All I want to do is hold on and never let go, I want to cry, and mourn the children I'll probably never have. I want him to be my anchor; I want to believe him when he says everything will be okay. I want him to hold me while I cry. I want to be Sarah the woman, not Mac the marine—just for one night.
But that cannot happen.
I have to let go and set him free – free of his promise - free of his guilt, and the only way to do that is to keep pushing him away emotionally.
For a moment, I think back to the pumpkin Little AJ picked out. It was by no means perfect, yet it was perfect to him – perfectly imperfect and beautiful. I wonder if I am like the pumpkin…I wonder if, regardless of being "damaged goods" I could still be perfect to someone – for someone –my heart tells me I want to be perfectly imperfect for Harm, my brain tells me he can do so much better than me.
I wrap my jacket tighter around me and glance at Harm.
I can tell he is looking at me, I can see the love affection, and worry in his eyes. No man has ever looked at me that way. No man has ever cared for me that way.
Harm is the only one who makes me feel complete, and he's the one I can't be with – I can't hold him back from his dreams.
I have to let go, I remind myself.
The world is a cruel place.
End.
A/N: So just to clarify – this was set in October/November of 2004, pre Four Percent Solution, for the sake of this fanfic, S10 progressed as seen on TV, and H&M still have their heart to heart at the end of Four Percent Solution.