A Final Healing?

Chief Petty Officer Jennifer Caldwell US Navy, stood silently with bowed head in the light summer drizzle, her uniform just slightly damp, and her cover tucked under her left arm, beads of moisture gathering in her short-cropped rich brown hair. Her right finger and thumb were unconsciously rubbing the wedding band on her left hand. Every year for the past four, at this time and in this place she stood misty-eyed looking, remembering and still grieving. It seemed so little, just a grey granite stone, marked with his name and the dates of his birth and of his death.

She had waited so long to find him; he had made her so mad at him; he had teased and mocked her and loved her. And she had loved him. But they had only been five months married, the honeymoon had hardly been over, when his 'plane had gone down over the Andes. She hadn't expected to hear from him for a while; he had told her that communications from the mine were intermittent, so the three weeks silence hadn't worried her.

She had been at her desk, Yeoman to the newly-promoted Colonel Mackenzie-Rabb, attacking the hated statistical analysis report, and consumed with a quiet joy at the new life growing under her heart. She hadn't told him. When he left she hadn't been sure. She hadn't told anyone. She was waiting until he came home. She had been lucky, she had escaped the nausea that had made Mac's early weeks so awful and had been able to conceal her other early symptoms. It was difficult though, Mac after a horribly difficult pregnancy, was the proud and happy mom of baby Matthew, Lieutenant Walker's bump was huge and even the slender Petty Officer Martinez, Fran, her best friend, was showing the beginnings of her swelling stomach. The two jokes current in the office was that all the female personnel were sucking up to the CO, or in her preferred version, she was leading by example; the second joke was that there must be something in the office water cooler.

Lieutenant Tiner had asked her if Mac, as everyone in the office referred to her was free and she had passed the Lieutenant and his visitor into the inner office. They had only been in there a few minutes when Mac's voice came over the inter-phone speaker, "Can you come in please, Petty Officer".

She had grabbed her note-pad and entered the office where a grave-faced Colonel stood in front of her desk and facing the door, flanked by Lieutenant Tiner and the visitor, a tired-looking middle-aged man in a rumpled suit. To her surprise it was the civilian who spoke, avoiding looking into her face, he asked, "Jennifer Caldwell?"

She nodded her assent.

"I need to ask you to look at these, ma'am" he held out a clear plastic bag sealed with a strip of 'Evidence' tape. Automatically, she stretched out her hand and took the bag, looking down at it she felt herself go cold. The bag held a US Passport, the steel-bracelet watch she had bought him as a parting present and a familiar brown leather wallet, opened to show his Driver Licence with his photograph staring blankly at her.

"No, oh no... oh, please God, no" she had whispered

"Do you recognise these items, ma'am?" persisted the stranger.

"Yes," she faltered, "they're my husband's."

"I'm afraid, Mrs Caldwell that I have some bad news for you..."

She felt her knees buckling as the room suddenly spun around her. She was dimly aware of Lieutenant Tiner's hand on her elbow as he guided her into one the leather covered office chairs.

Regaining awareness she looked at the three concerned faces in front of her. She licked her suddenly dry lips, and managed, "What happened? Tell me."

"We're not quite sure of all the details, ma'am, but it seems your husband was flying between two of his mines, when the company plane crashed in the mountains. I'm sorry to have to tell you that there were no survivors."

"When did this happen?"

"Ten days ago, ma'am. It took three days for the news to get to the Peruvian authorities, and another four days before their search aircraft found the crash site. Because your husband was carrying his passport, his remains were sent to the US Embassy in Lima, he had some letters with him with his San Diego address, so they sent his personal effects on to us at the San Diego PD. Ma'am, I am truly sorry for your loss."

"Yes, thank you," she had answered numbly, and then, it seemed that someone else wailed, "but I never told him about the baby!"

She could never clearly remember what had happened after that. She vaguely remembered Mac's horror-struck face, and being driven home by Lieutenant Tiner, but the days after that had, perhaps mercifully, been a blur.

His body had been flown back to San Diego, with an advisory note for a closed casket funeral. In some ways that had been the hardest, not being able to look him in the face and say goodbye. It had felt like unfinished business.

She had returned to work and had almost been overwhelmed by the way people seemed to walk on egg-shells around her and by the sympathy of her friends; she had always found sympathy hard to bear. But the old, essentially innocent Jen - as Mac had thought of her - had gone, it seemed for good. She had immersed herself in work almost to the point of self neglect, and it was only when the baby started to show - Mac had enjoined Tiner to silence - and the secret of her pregnancy was out that Fran lost her patience with her, verbally reamed her out and made her face up to the need to look after herself and her child.

Fran and her husband Tim had been wonderful, they had supported her through the pregnancy, and had not only kept her company when their duties permitted, they had co-opted Tony and Sally Cameron, who had willingly, despite their own infant daughter, giving up time from their hectic schedules, to help her with shopping, and as her pregnancy advanced with driving her for medical check-ups, or even just sitting quietly with her in the evenings.

Hannah's birth had pulled her together; she had been amazed that such a little person could bring so much comfort to her battered heart. To make a fresh beginning, she had sold the house in La Jolla that they had chosen together and that he had bought for her, and taking baby Hannah, had moved into much smaller place in her old neighbourhood of Ocean Beach and had settled down to the life of a single navy mother.

She was better now, she told herself, she was over the pain, but the sorrow still remained. And every year at this time on the anniversary of this death she came to visit him in this place, telling him of the small triumphs and tragedies of every-day life, and how proud he would be of their daughter, how she was growing up so pretty and so smart. She stood unheeding in the rain contemplating what they'd had, what they could have had and what they'd lost, until her reverie was disturbed by a gentle voice behind her.

"Hello Jennifer, I thought I'd find you here."

She closed her eyes for a second; only two people had regularly called her Jennifer; Miles, and the man who now stood behind her shoulder. She forced a smile onto her face and turned to face him. "Hello Harm," she said studying him closely. He was older now, they all were, he was about twelve, maybe fourteen years older than her, so that would make him about forty-four, forty-six years old. But, despite his middle-age, despite the lines that grief and experience had drawn on his own face, and despite the grey at his temples he still looked slim and fit. There was, thought Jen looking into his blue eyes, still something young about him. She smiled in reminiscence; he was still, she thought, Peter Pan, still Mac's flyboy.

"What about you, Harm?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he acknowledged with a gentle smile, "I've been talking to Mac."

Harm had suffered his own terrible loss. Mac had been working late and in a hurry to get home for Matthew's second birthday. The police said she had probably never even seen the semi-trailer that had swerved across the central strip of the highway and had ploughed into the oncoming traffic until it had smashed into the side of her Mustang. They said that it was instantaneous, that she wouldn't have felt a thing.

"It's time," he reminded her, Nodding in agreement, she replaced her cover and turned to go with him; the two slowly walking side by side from the cemetery towards their waiting cars.

"Have you got your dress whites he asked?"

"Yes, they're in the car."

"And Hannah?"

"No, I figured she was too young to drag clear across the country; she's with Tim and Fran Martinez. She'll probably bully Franco and be spoiled to death by Fran. What have you done with Matthew?"

"He's fine, staying with mom and Frank in La Jolla for the weekend. Want to bet which one gets spoiled the most, yours or mine?"

The old joke, a private joke just between the two of them, made her smile, "No, I never bet on a sure thing," she said with a sudden pang of memory. She had said that to Miles once, when he challenged her assertion that they would never kiss.

"OK, then follow me. I'm flying us, with a company driver on board to make sure I don't get into any dogfights; Old man Beecher has let me use the Gulfstream until Monday. It'll be more convenient than commercial flights. It's hangared out at Montgomery Field; I'm taking us direct to Lee Airport, right next door to the academy. We'll be making a comfort stop at Wiley Post, Oklahoma, to take on fuel and stretch our legs. I've booked us rooms at the Marriott Waterfront. It's not the best, maybe, but it's convenient, and we're lucky to get so close on graduation weekend!"

"Yes," she smiled "It will be good to see Mattie. She's written and e-mailed and 'phoned when she can, but that's not the same is it? I'm so proud of our little girl - third in her class! And I know you are too. Don't you dare even hint to her that you're disappointed that she didn't finish first!" she finished, mock scolding him.

"Jennifer." he said gravely, turning his head so that she wouldn't see the moisture in his eyes and gazing far off into the distance, "considering what Mattie's been though in her life and the odds she beat to even get to the academy. I would be just as proud had she graduated last in her class!"

She felt a flush of affection for him; he probably even believed what he said, but she knew he would have been disappointed if his beloved Mattie had not excelled. Not, she reflected, that he would ever let slip even a hint that he was less than proud of her

"Harm," she said as she got into her car, "You're a good man."

Now what, he asked himself, brought that on?

Bags and suitcases stowed on board the Gulfstream, Harm settled himself at the controls and completing the pre-flight checks, obtained clearance from the tower and opened the throttles. The flight across the continent was uneventful, and she dozed most of the way. She woke up as the wheels bumped down at Wiley Post, and taking advantage of the re-fuelling stop walked across to the airport buildings to ease the kinks.

The arrival at Annapolis was the usual confusion of finding the rental car and navigating half-remembered streets to get to the hotel. At one point while Harm momentarily hesitated at an intersection, unsure whether to turn left or go straight head, she turned and smilingly said, "Kuwaiti military justice review!"

He laughed at another shared memory, but said "I'm not lost; pilots are never lost, we're always here. It's just that sometimes we are not quite sure where 'here' is!" He fell silent, he too had his memories; he had once said something very like that to Mac.

"Harm?" There was a note of concern in her voice as she turned her head again to look at him. He couldn't help but smile. How well she knows me, he thought, and how well she understands.

"I'm fine, Jennifer."

There was more confusion at the Marriott. Somehow the two rooms Harm had reserved had become one family room. Trying to explain to a flustered desk clerk that they were not a couple and that such an arrangement was not acceptable did nothing to check Harm's rising temper. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, a Gulfstream was not an F-14 or F-18, and its comparatively plodding progress, adding hours to his memory of trans-continental flight. had tired him. He wanted his dinner, a glass of wine, a long hot soak and his bed. Jennifer intervened, asking at a much lower decibel level if the clerk could not change the family room to two others. He apologised, the hotel was nearly full, and the only vacancy was the ambassador suite: a two-bedroom family suite with a shared bathroom and lounge.

"We'll take it," snapped Harm "See to it that our bags are taken up, please."

Harm grumbled his way through dinner, thoroughly disgruntled that the time and energy he had put into organising this weekend, a once in a life time occasion, had almost been spoiled at the eleventh hour. When she caught him rumbling "Dereliction of Duty and Conduct Unbecoming," she had startled him by saying crisply, "Aye, aye, sir, I'll draw up charges directly"

Startled, he looked across the table at her, about to protest, when he saw to his surprise and pleased relief, that the old glimmer of mischief was back in her eyes, even if only temporarily.

"Jennifer..." he began.

"It's alright, Harm," she said, "it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does matter," he objected, "I wanted this to be..."

"Perfect?"

"Yes," he glowered at her, "This is only going to happen for us..."

"Once?"

"Yes! Dammit Jennifer, will you please let me finish a..."

"Sentence?"

"Jennifer Coates, you are..."

"Impossible?"

"Yes." And then as the impact of what he'd called her hit them both, they fell silent.

"Oh, Jennifer, I am so, so very sorry. It kinda... just slipped out."

"It's alright Harm, it was partly my fault, I was teasing you the way I used to back at Falls Church. I guess it's being back here." Her gesture around the room had nothing to with the hotel, but everything to do with being back almost in their old haunts.

"Yes," Harm agreed, "Hey wait up! You used to tease me back at Falls Church? That was deliberate?"

"Oh yes," she chuckled. "All the time. You never knew?"

"No, I just thought it was you being your usual insubordinate self!"

The awkward moment passed, and the two friends smiled across the table at each other.

Harm studied her covertly over the rim of his wine glass. The loss of her new husband had hit her hard, and had left its marks on her face, lines that hadn't been there when he had first met an outrageously cheeky, wilful and disobedient Petty Officer 3, whom he had been charged to defend at an Article 32 hearing. He had done his best, but had been forced to accept a plea-bargain on her behalf and she had been sentenced to confinement for 30 days.

On her release she had turned her life around, worked hard, passed her GED and qualified as a Legalman, eventually rising to the position of Admiral's Yeoman at Falls Church and attaining the rank of Petty Officer 1. He would have been incredulous if anyone had ever told him that it she always said it was due to his influence that she had reformed herself and become a valued member of the team.

Harm continued his observation; the glorious brown hair that he had thought, together with her deep brown eyes, her finest feature, had once hung down her back as far as the bottom of her shoulder blades, but was now cut into a feathery crop, which he privately considered did not suit her at all. He had been shocked when he first saw it and had asked why she had cut it. It was Hannah's fault she had said, the long hair was too convenient to her baby hands while she was being nursed, and besides now she had a child to look after she couldn't afford the time she needed to maintain a long hair style.

She was about thirty now he reckoned, no, she'd said she was twenty-eight when she got married, so she must be thirty two now. But, he thought admiringly, despite Hannah's birth, she had kept her trim figure, in that respect there was little difference between now and his earliest memories of her.

Becoming aware of his study, she looked up at him and asked, "A penny for them?"

He grinned and said, "Oh, nothing really, I was just remembering you and Loren Singer facing off at Bud Roberts' place that first Christmas, do you remember?" he continued, smiling,"You were so mad at her, I thought that either you were going to cry with frustration, or I was going to have to grab you to stop you from punching her flat." He grinned again, "You do know that Harriet gave her a black eye once? In my office I believe."

She grinned, "Yes, Jason Tiner told me all about it." She sighed, "Loren was such a bitch, but it was a horrible thing to happen to her, especially..." her hands cradled her own stomach in a reflex protective move, as she remembered the murder of the pregnant Lieutenant Singer.

"Yes," he said cursing himself for bringing up the subject. This weekend was supposed to be a happy time for them. A chance to get away for a short while from the memories that haunted San Diego; and here he was like a fool bringing up every gloomy story he could find. "Talking of Bud and Harriett," he said, did I tell you they were coming tomorrow?"

"No! You didn't" she accused him, "And you left it to now to tell me!"

"Yes, and there's more," he added, thinking it was some slight repayment for her earlier teasing, "Chloe's coming down from Vermont."

Chloe and Mattie had for a while almost been step-sisters, but their mutual jealousy had at first prevented them from being friends, and they had never grown really close, but since Mac's death they had managed to get on better terms.

"Oh, Harm, that's wonderful"

"Yes, it is. I'm glad they're settling their differences. And I'm proud of Chloe too, travelling down here, all the way from Vermont, to support Mattie."

Jen was not quite so convinced of the purity of Chloe's motives. There was no reason to suspect that the young woman had an ulterior motive, but Jen was uneasy at this sudden burst of affection. Harm's relationship with Chloe had always been… what was the word, oh, yes… complicated. She had been Mac's protégée under a mentoring system for children in foster care or in problem families. She had initially accepted Harm as Mac's friend and had then woven romantic dreams in her head, where Mac, Harm and she all lived together as a happy family, and had done all she could to promote the union. However, when Mac fell for the Australian Naval Officer, Mic Brumby, he had won her over completely. When he cancelled the wedding, Chloe had blamed the disaster on Harm. True his presence had set up the conflict in Mac's heart, but it had been Mic who called the whole thing off. Since that period Chloe's attitude towards Harm had been ambivalent. She had thawed somewhat when Mac and Harm had finally married, but she hadn't counted on the inclusion of a just-slightly-older Mattie in her dream family. She eyed him silently, part wondering if Chloe's visit really had anything to do with Mattie, but was a chance to reconnect with Harm and herself, and yes even with Bud and Harriett, as a means of maintaining some sort of contact with Mac. But she couldn't bring herself to say that to him.

Dinner finished, he asked if she wanted another drink, but she just shook her head, and so, in companionable silence the two of them sought the comfort of their suite. She felt no awkwardness in sharing a suite with Harm, she trusted him completely. She could, she thought, with an inward wicked grin, wander around completely naked in front of him and be perfectly safe. She wouldn't do it though, it wouldn't be fair.

Unpacking did not take long, but she spent a few minutes checking her dress whites. It was a shame she thought, that Harm had resigned, he would be the only member of the party, except Chloe, she remembered, not in uniform. 'Dress Whites and Gold Wings' she thought, another phrase from the past, she couldn't think where she'd heard, it but she had seen him in that uniform so many times that the description and the persona belonged to him as perhaps to nobody else.

He had ceded first use of the bathroom to her and remembering his expressed wish for a long, hot soak, she was careful in not taking too long over her pre-bed rituals. Calling a good night to him, she crossed back to her own room, dressed in her plain white cotton nightgown, and climbed into bed. Turning out the light she grinned as she remembered her earlier thoughts, walk round naked in front of Harm indeed! Where had that come from!

She was awake early the next morning debating whether to get into her uniform first, or don slacks and a T-shirt for breakfast, when her mind was made up for her, by the shrill call of the telephone by her bed. Who the hell is that? She asked herself; picking up the 'phone she answered with caution, "Hello?"

"Chief Caldwell?" A familiar female voice.

"Yes?"

"Jennifer, this is Alison, Staff Sergeant Brewer, General Cresswell's Admin Assistant. The General wishes to see you immediately in the foyer". Alison Brewer, her replacment at Church Falls as the JAG's Yeoman.

"What, the hotel foyer?" she asked in bafflement.

"Yes Jen."

"But, but I'm not dressed. Please tell the General I shall be with him in ten minutes."

"Not going to work, Jen, he wants you now. He says to come ASAP, come as you are, or throw on anything. Uniform of the day is not an issue."

"Thank you, Alison. Please tell the General I'm on my way!"

Slightly less than three minutes later she stood in T-shirt and slacks, in the hotel foyer, braced at attention in front of the Navy JAG, her ultimate superior officer. "Chief Petty Officer Caldwell, reporting as ordered, sir!"

The General smiled at her, "At ease, Chief, it's good to see you again" and he added with a sideways look, "there are one or two other people just as happy to see you as I am!"

Turning in the indicated direction she saw, in their Dress Whites, Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts and his wife Lieutenant Harriett Roberts. Harriet had been on inactive reserve for five years now, and had during that time had the twins, but Chief Caldwell decided, she still retained her figure well enough to fit into her old uniform. She smiled in genuine pleasure; Bud and Harriett were two of the finest, kindest, most generous and most honest people she had ever met.

The General smiled at her pleasure, "Go on," he said, "join them, we can all talk in a few minutes."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The General turned to his aide and nodded. She made another telephone call. Turned to the General and said, "He's on his way, sir,"

The General nodded in acknowledgement.

"What's happening Harr... I mean ma'am?" She asked in some confusion.

"Shush, wait a minute," was the only reply she got.

A shirt-sleeved and still somewhat sleep rumpled Harm exited the elevator, and looking around spotted the General, crossing the floor toward him he said, "Good morning General, this isn't really very..."

"Attention to orders!" The General barked.

All naval personnel in earshot, and there were quite a few who had nothing to do with the JAG Corps, or the small party gathered in the foyer, froze into the position of attention, as did Harm, his years of navy training taking over.

Taking a slim blue folder from his assistant, the General began to read:

"Captain Harmon Rabb, Junior, United States Navy Reserve, is with effect from the date of these orders, returned to Active Duty, and is assigned to Headquarters, Navy Judge Advocate General's Corps, Falls Church, Virginia, and is to report to that Duty Station immediately upon receipt of these orders. Signed Edward Sheffield, Secretary of the Navy." The General stopped reading, and closed the folder. He held out his hand and said "Congratulations Captain!"

As applause broke out all around, A stunned Harm automatically grasped the General's hand and stuttered, "Th... Thank you sir... I think."

While Bud and The General grinned at him, an almost equally stunned Chief Caldwell started at him blankly. Harriet Roberts stepped forward and with exquisite tact said, "As neither your mother nor Mattie are here, I claim the honour," and standing on tip-toe, kissed him gently on the cheek. Settling back on her heels, she smiled up at him with moist eyes and asked very quietly, "Is it well with you, my very dear friend?"

Almost overcome and speechless, he nodded mutely.

"Good!" she answered crisply. "Then you'll need this!" and turning, she picked up a suit carrier and a small hold-all from the couch behind her. "Here," she continued turning back towards Harm "are your Dress Whites; and your Mess Dress; your cover and your shoes are in the holdall. Bud wrapped them so, they should be OK, but you might want to check. Alright everybody!" Harriett ever the organiser and Administrative Officer, took charge, "we have one and one half hours until movement!" and then in a quieter voice with an undertone of worry, "Bud, sit down, please."

Chief Caldwell turned to the Staff Sergeant and asked, "What just happened here, Alison?"

Alison Brewer smiled and said, "I don't know what went on under the surface, Jen, but General Cresswell and old Admiral Chegwidden have been giving the SecNav hell for weeks to get Captain Rabb recalled to Active status, just so he can wear Dress Whites for his daughter's graduation. I don't think it's permanent, but, maybe, if he wants..."

She found herself regarding the prospect of Harm's return to the Navy with mixed feelings. He was a successful civilian lawyer in San Diego, a partner in a high-profile law firm, and she had got used to the idea of him being there. Not that they had much regular contact, but if he needed an emergency baby sitter, or she had a legal problem she wanted to talk out, each knew the other was there. If he returned to the Navy, he could be stationed anywhere in the world and the thought that he suddenly might not be in the same city, let alone the same country, was disquieting. On the other hand, she reflected he was so much the Navy, that standing amongst sailors and marines even out of uniform he looked as if he belonged, as if he was still one of them. Even as the thought crossed her mind she realised that in his heart he was still one of them and always would be. He had, she remembered, only resigned so that he wouldn't be parted from Mac, and now, if the recasll to Active Duty stood...?

"Jen?"

"Uh, yes , Alison?"

"Are you attending the ceremony?" This was said with a significant look at her rumpled T-Shirt.

"Oh Damn! Thank you!" and she fled back to her hotel room.

The unexpected call had disrupted their planned routine, so she found herself unselfconsciously carefully applying just the permitted amount of make-up in front of the bathroom mirror, while clothed in only skirt and bra, with a naked Harm, concealed by the curtain, showering behind her.

The rush over, and fully dressed, she found Harm waiting for her in the shared lounge. If you ignored the grey patches at his temples she thought, he looks almost the same as he did on that day nearly seven years ago when he and Mac had announced their engagement. That was the first time, she recalled, that he had worn his Captain's shoulder boards. He returned her look, smiled and asked, "Just how old are those Whites, Jennifer?"

"Why?" she asked suddenly worried, "are they ripped, stained?", she twisted, trying to look back over shoulder, scared she missed something.

"No, nothing like that, I was just curious. You look fine."

"Oh," she gasped in relief, "you had me worried for a minute. But how old? I got them when I made Chief, so that would be three years ago."

He smiled, "Very well then Chief, shall we go?"

Returning the smile, she replied, "Aye, aye, sir!"

Rejoining their friends in the foyer, she thought again, how well he merged with his navy colleagues, but was still vaguely disquieted by the thought. She was distracted by the approach of Bud Roberts, still smilingly round-faced, but now with his hair almost totally grey. She noted with dismay that he was limping more than she remembered and was leaning quite heavily on his cane. There was a special bond between them. She had been there when he stepped on a land-mine in Afghanistan and had applied the tourniquet and bullied the slick helo pilot into not waiting for a medevac bird; Bud swore that she had been instrumental in saving his life; a charge which she had time after time blushingly denied. Looking over his shoulder as he smiled his way towards her, she saw Harriett who was also watching him with anxiety written plain on her face. Resolving to have a private word with Harriett at some stage during the day, she turned her attention to Bud.

"Good morning Chief Petty Officer, or" his eyes twinkled, "may I still call you Jen?"

"Sir," she said, "the Lieutenant Commander can call me any damn' thing he pleases!"

They stood looking at each other in pure pleasure, neither quite sure how to proceed.

The General saved them, "Go ahead you two, I seem to have something in my eye and can't see a thing! And neither," he added for the benefit of the room at large, "can anyone else!"

Bud smiled and held his arms out to the sides, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his torso and rested her head against his chest as he folded his arms around her. He was not much taller than she, so was able to whisper into her ear without making it obvious, "How are you Jen?" and planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

Coming from Bud, as it would have been coming from Harriett, it was no mere formula, neither was it a question based in mere prurient curiosity. Bud's sensitive soul had recognised the grief she still carried and cared enough to show that his simple question was aimed at her inner self.

Giving a little sniff, she freed herself from his embrace and said, quietly smiling "Damn you Bud Roberts, don't you set me crying, don't you dare," and seeing the concern still in his eyes said, "I'm getting over it, Bud, I'll be fine. I will," she promised.

Harm stepped forward and gripped Bud's hand, "You're a braver man than I am Bud; I've wanted to kiss her so many times I can't remember, but I was always afraid she'd slug me!"

The burst of laughter provoked by Harm's comments served to give her time to regain self-control. Harm looked at her over Bud's head and smiled. It was a smile full of warmth and understanding. Gratefully she inclined her head in recognition of his intent. Still diverting attention away from Jennifer, Harm said, indicating his white jacket, "I don't know who exactly to blame for this, but I detect the fine hand of Harriett Roberts, the which, young lady" he said in tones of mock severity, to Harriett's confusion and to the onlookers' general amusement, "we shall be discussing in detail later. However, I also suspect that my mother had something to do with this! So..."

Chief Caldwell interrupted, "Sir, I have a feeling that would take a full Article 32 hearing to get to the bottom of this case, and right now, sir, I don't think we have the time!"

The muffled tone of the cell 'phone in his pocket interrupted his thoughts, and looking at the caller ID he announced, "It's Chloe"... Answering the call, he listened intently, and looked at his watch, saying, "OK, we can wait maybe five minutes, but then we need to go…" He looked round at three anxious faces and said, "Chloe's plane was late. She's in a cab on the way here, and the driver says they're about five minutes out. She says all she'll need to do is dump her bags, and she'll be ready to fly."

The next few minutes were spent in an agony of suspense while the foyer emptied as Geneeral Cresswell, his Staff Sergeant and other parties called for their cars and departed for the academy. At last, thought Harm with a sigh of relief as Chloe burst in through the doors, hopping on one foot as she tried to close a suitcase supported by her other thigh. The sleeve of a sweater hung from between the body of the case and the lid, her jacket was awry and her blouse untucked and half undone. Catching the bemused looks from the rest of the party she raised a face flushed with exertion and half-panted, "Had to get changed in the cab! What's up? None of you ever seen a half-naked woman before?"

The last remark was so typically Chloe that they were all forced to laugh. She almost threw her suitcase at the concierge and said, "Chloe Anderson, I'll be back to check-in later - don't lose it! Well," turning towards Harm and the others, "What are we waiting for; we don't want to be late!" glaring at them as if the delay was their fault.

With Bud and Harriett's car in front, Harm followed their lead, Jen beside him in the passenger seat, and Chloe setting herself to rights in the back.

The graduation ceremony, to an old tradition, went as such occasions usually did. Those on parade were acutely grateful that all the work of preparation and rehearsal was finally over, and that today was the real thing. For the newly fledged Ensigns it was of course a new step on their chosen careers. The seasoned observers in the audience were pretending to be more blasé than they really were; not a few of them were remembering their own graduation ceremony, for some a long time ago, for others in the more recent past. The comparative few who were openly excited were those who for most part were seeing a family member graduate from the US Naval Academy for the first time.

The final act of the ceremony was the 'Pass in Review' where the graduating class led the Corps of Midshipmen in a march past the saluting base, each company in turn giving a crisp 'eyes right' as they passed the inspecting officer. The ceremony completed, the graduands were freed to join their friends and family, but finding friends and relatives was no easy task considering the size of the crowd; with his extra inches Harm quickly spotted Mattie's figure searching though the throng, and taking Jennifer's elbow in his firm grasp he piloted her towards the new officer. As she spotted Mattie she pulled free of Harm's grasp and made her way forwards, in her single mindedness failing to see that she had obstructed the path of a grizzled Master Chief Petty Officer, whose rank and years of experience demanded precedence. Angered the man spun to call her back and to explain herself, but heard a quiet serious voice in his ear, "Stand down Master Chief, this is more important than you could ever guess!" Looking around, the Master Chef saw that he was being addressed by a tall, blue-eyed Captain wearing aviators' wings. The Captain had not spoken in a voice of rebuke, but there was no mistaking the intent in either eyes or voice. The Master Chief with a faint puzzled look could only say, "Aye, aye, Sir!" and as he watched the Captain follow the Chief Petty Officer, he mentally shrugged, relaxed his brace and returned to his original course.

Jennifer approached Mattie, her eyes shining with unshed tears and her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Coming to a halt, she froze into a brace and saluted crisply, saying "Good morning ma'am"

Mattie returned the salute, but had to swallow hard, twice, before she could make her reply, "Good morning, Chief Petty Officer." The two stood gazing at each other for a few seconds until Mattie said in a choked voice, "Chief, I would like to inform you that you are the first enlisted person to have saluted me!"

The tears now running down her face, Jennifer replied simply, "I promised you I would be, ma'am!"

Harm had held back to allow the two women to share this special moment. Mattie had told him before she joined the academy of the promise that Jennifer had made and he had been determined that she should be able to keep her promise. Now stepping forward, he said, his own eyes misty with pride, "May I have the honour of congratulating the Ensign?"

"Sir! Thank you sir! Mattie snapped in reply, her own tears now shining wet on her cheeks, as she saluted the man who had done more than any other person to change her life.

Harm returned her salute but before any more could be said a gruff, but familiar voice interrupted, "Would the Ensign also accept the congratulations of a mean, bald, old jerk?"

All three spun in amazement:

"Admiral!"

"Sir!

"Sir!"

And three hands rose in salute.

Admiral A J Chegwidden saluted in turn, "Captain, Chief, at ease," he greeted them, and continued "I don't believe I have yet heard the Ensign's reply."

A flame-red Mattie answered, "Sir! The Ensign is honoured to accept the Admiral's congratulations, sir!"

"Good! At ease, Ensign. You have more than deserved the rewards and recognition you have achieved. I look forward to following your undoubtedly fine future career! I also look forward to claiming a dance with you at tonight's graduation ball! You did a fine job, there Captain! At ease, at ease." And the bear-like old man waved a careless hand and wandered away.

The three watched in silence as he left. Jennifer was the first to collect herself, "What was all that mean, old, jerk stuff," she asked.

"Oh, that's what Mattie called him, the first time they met!" grinned Harm as Mattie turned an even brighter red as she remembered that day.

"Mattie, you didn't?" exclaimed an awed Jennifer, "I thought I used to cheek him, but even I never went that far!"

"Well," Mattie grinned, "he'd come to steal my best pilot!"

The three were now joined by Bud, Harriett and Chloe, all full of congratulations and questions as to her future plans. That was an easy one. Mattie replied without hesitation "Air Training Command, I'm going to be a Hornet Driver," she replied confidently.

Her confidence was greeted with mock sarcasm and some teasing. Chloe who had been hanging back, came forward and said, "Mattie, congratulations; seriously. I know we're not best friends, but I'd like it if we could try to be?"

"Yes," Mattie said thoughtfully, "we were always in competition, sort of, weren't we?"

"Yes, and I thought you were such a brat."

"And I thought you were the brat!"

"There were times," interrupted Harm, "when I thought you were both brats, damn annoying brats!"

Jennifer blanched. Mac had once called her 'pretty annoying'. She could almost her voice now. She shook herself mentally, and forcing sad memories back into the past, determined to make Mattie's day about Mattie and not her own ghosts.

The fork and plate lunch was as chaotic as these affairs usually are, everyone trying to juggle plate and glass in one hand, while attempting to ply a fork with the other. There were introductions to be made to Mattie's classmate, friends and instructors. It was a hopeless task trying to remember the torrent of names and the sea of faces. Between interruptions to make those introductions, Mattie and Chloe were talking animatedly, while Bud and Harriett watched and smiled indulgently. Harriett smiled at Bud, and said softly, "Look at them, they're so young. They've got their whole lives ahead of them. They make me feel so old." She paused and then added significantly in a throaty voice, "Bud, let's go home."

Bud recognised that particular note in his wife's voice and smiled gently, "Yes, let's."

Harm saw them making their preparations to depart, and whispered in Jen's ear, "I've made our excuses to Mattie, I've had enough of this bun-fight, we need to change, and we're going to need some rest if we're to keep up with these youngsters this evening."

Jen smilingly nodded her agreement, and with a signal to Chloe, and a farewell nod to Bud and Harriett along with a promise of "later", they left the tent and made their way to the parking lot. Harm was abstracted during the return drive to the hotel, and Chloe seemed deep in thought. Jen, never in favour of distracting a driver, sat in silent thought. Coming here with Harm, she thought was a mistake. There were too many ghosts, too many faces from the days at Falls Church. The presence of those faces only emphasised the one absent face that had in so many ways been central to their joint experiences then and to their joint memories now. It was impossible she had found at lunch, to talk to Bud or Harriett, or even the General about the old days, without somebody saying, "Do you remember when Mac..." or "and then Mac said..." and every time the name had come up, she had looked across at Harm and seen his wry grin, and had wanted to take him away so he wouldn't be hurt any more. And for some reason, she had felt guilty, as if she were somehow betraying Mac and her memory. On their return to the hotel, she tried to shake of the melancholia that had overtaken her and watched with an assumed air of amusement as Chloe checked-in and make arrangements to meet with them at nineteen hundred hours "That's seven pee em to you, young lady," Harm noted with mock severity.

Taking advantage of the in-room coffee making facilities, she brewed a pot for the two of them to share. Harm, his jacket now on a hangar lay back on the couch, relaxed and sipped appreciatively. "You always did make a great cup of coffee, Jennifer, Mac used to say that sometimes it was the only thing that kept her from throwing you in the Brig. Oh, oh, no..." suddenly he was on his knees beside her chair, and holding her hand in both of his, his voice of full of concern, "What's wrong, Jennifer?"

She waved a helpless hand, "It's all of it Harm; Mattie, you, Miles, Chloe and even Bud and Harriett, and then the Admiral! And today, I keep seeing and hearing reminders of Mac everywhere!" she gasped out between her sobs.

"Oh, Jennifer," he said, holding her close and rocking her gently, "it can't be helped; her name is always going to come up when we talk. She was such a huge part of our lives, for such a long time. Don't be afraid to mention her name to me, I'm sick of people tiptoeing around her. I loved, her and I expect that some part of me always will, but I can think and talk about her, remembering the good times, her little sayings and funny ways, the way she always knew the time, the way she liked her coffee, the way she looked at me when she thought I was being more than ordinarily dumb, the way she called me stick-boy, or fly-boy. There are good memories Jennifer, we should treasure them and share them with our friends." He bowed his head and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. She fell silent, her sobs fading. Placing another gentle kiss on her forehead, he said, "feeling better now?"

She nodded, and said damply, "You know, they could throw you in the Brig for that."

"For what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"For kissing me like that," she answered.

He grinned, remembering that Christmas evening outside the little chapel in Falls Church, when Jennifer had decided to stay in the navy and grateful that he had cared about her, had chastely kissed his cheek. "It was worth it!" he said, deliberately echoing her words at the time.

Tired by the emotional stresses of the day, she said that she was going to take that rest he had suggested, but asked him to call her by half-past five if she hadn't woken by then. She reminded him that all he had to do was climb into his monkey suit while she needed to fix her hair and make-up and then get dressed. He showered and dressed early, and finding time in hand he walked softly into her room. She was lying on top of the bed in her favourite old pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, the throw she had covered herself with had slipped off to the side, and he gently drew it up back over her shoulders, she stirred and murmured something indistinguishable and then settled again. He sat in one of the hotel chairs for nearly an hour, just watching her sleep and feeling within himself the beginnings of an inner peace that he thought he had lost forever.

He kept a check of the time, and punctually, as she had requested, he gently shook her awake, "Jennifer, it's time"

She opened her eyes and sleepily smiled at him, "Thank you," she whispered and then as full consciousness returned, she sat up and said with some of her old vivacity, "where are your wits gone, go! I need to get changed!"

"Yes, ma'am!" and chuckling, he left her alone.

Appreciatively he watched as a few minutes later, she crossed the lounge, dressed only in a shirt, the tails of which just covered her buttocks, on her way to the bathroom. He heard the sound of water running, and then silence. He figured she must be at the make-up stage now and smiled as he remembered the brief glimpse he had of her this morning, a look of intense concentration on her face as she skilfully applied those little touches which repaired the marks left by time and experience.

He had time for further appreciation as she re-crossed to her bedroom, still shirt-clad, and then through the closed the door he heard the hum of a hair dryer. Shortly thereafter she re-entered the lounge. He shot to his feet, his jaw dropping in amazement. She wore a simple, strapless burgundy gown and a single string of some red gems at her throat, with tiny matching drops in her ears, and for the first time, maybe it was the bare shoulders he thought, he noticed that her cropped hair-style made her neck seem longer..

She pirouetted for him, "well, what do you think," she asked mock-coyly

If she was teasing, he was not, "Jennifer you look - no you are stunning!"

She laughed with pleasure at his reaction and his words. He hadn't really needed to say anything. The way he had got to his feet and the look on his face as she entered the room was more than enough. She was honest enough to admit to herself that she was sufficiently vain to have loved having such a startling effect on someone she had known for so long.

Offering her his arm, he escorted her from the suite and along the corridors heading for the foyer, where they were to meet with Chloe. On their way they had both been aware of the many admiring and some lustful glances sent in Jennifer's direction. Harm had been protective, trying to shield her from the most blatant staring. Looking up and sideways at him, she thought she had detected anger and perhaps something else in his face. Was it jealousy she wondered? No it couldn't be she told herself, don't be absurd. On the other hand she relished the attention; she felt like a high-school senior going to the prom, something she had missed out on as a teenager. At last they arrived at the foyer where Chloe was waiting. Like Jennifer she had opted for simplicity, wearing a light blue sheath that set off her honey-blonde hair. They were joined promptly by Bud and Harriett, the latter in a darke blue than Chloe, in a dress that did full justice to her fuller figure. They did not have long to wait for their car, Harm's largesse ensuring that an attentive parking valet promptly brought the rental car round for them. With Jennifer and Chloe expressing their sense of anticipation, and Harm pretending to be unimpressed by the whole affair, they climbed aboard and set out for the Academy.

The Duty Petty Officer announced them as they arrived at the Academy Mess Ballroom, "Captain Harmon Rabb, Miss Chloe Rabb and Mrs Jennifer Caldwell", there was the polite smatter of applause from those already present, and as each couple in succession approached the door, so the Petty Officer announced them in turn. As the crowd grew denser and the noise level grew, only those nearest the door heard the names of the new arrivals.

Chloe had given him an ironic look and had asked him "Miss Chloe Rabb - really?" But her smile showed that she was not particularly upset as she was whirled away into the dance by a young Ensign.

The tables reserved for the JAG party were already partly occupied. Admiral Chegwidden had been joined by General Cresswell and his wife Dora. Commander Caitlin Pike with her husband Danny, were also at the table, as were Commander Meg Austin and her husband Major Andy McLellan, somehow looking more out of place in his British Royal Artillery Mess Dress than did the civilians in their tuxedos. Harm had to introduce Meg and Caitlin to Jennifer, to minimize any embarrassment the others might feel, as Mrs Jennifer Caldwell, he was quite certain that Jennifer didn't care that she was enlisted and he, tonight, with the feeling that an oppressive weight had gone from his shoulders, certainly didn't give a damn. Harm had the first dance with Mattie and the second with Harriett and the third with Jennifer. Mattie's hand was indeed claimed by the Admiral, and Admiral and Ensign obviously had a spirited but friendly conversation while they danced; Mattie frequently laughing and the Admiral's normally rather stern face, creasing into his rare smile. When asked by a curious Harm what they had been talking about, Mattie wouldn't say, she merely smiled, shook her head and looked mysterious, although later on in the evening Harm caught her looking speculatively at him. The Admiral, taking unfair advantage of his rank, thought Harm also claimed a dance with Jennifer, and if their conversation wasn't as lively as that of the Admiral and Mattie, it was sufficiently lively to keep a smile on Jennifer's face. Jennifer was a popular partner, and Harm had to fight down a growing and totally irrational, he told himself, sense of irritation, and contented himself with dancing with Jennifer when she wasn't otherwise partnered. He had also kept a weather eye on Mattie, and was relieved to see that she too had no shortage of partners, including General Cresswell, and was perversely relieved to see that she had no one particular partner either. During one of Jennifer's absences from their table he solicited Chloe for the dance and while they were on the dance floor he noticed she wasn't really paying attention to timing, rhythm, or even his conversational gambits. Drawing her out of the dance he led her to a row of chairs along the wall, and sitting down asked she if there was anything wrong. "No, not really," she said, but refusing to meet his eyes. He coughed and raised an interrogative eyebrow.

"Well," she said, "It's..."

"Complicated?" he finished for her.

"How did you know I was going to say that," she asked surprised

"Now that," he answered, "is complicated. I've been getting lessons; but never mind I'll tell you someday later! Now tell me what's eating you?"

"All this," indicating everything and everyone, "I know you're navy, and so is Bud and Harriett and Jennifer, and now Mattie. But... I've never really known it, never really felt it until now. I never knew how much the navy is your life. It's not for me, I've never wanted to join the military but seeing all this, how much of a community, how much of a family you all are..." She sighed.

"Are you sure about not wanting to join the military? truly? he asked with humour in his voice.

"Of course I am!" she said, with immense dignity, and then added with a trace of her old childhood grin, "A lady never lies, except about her age, her weight..."

"And her best friend's husband!" he finished for her.

"You remember then?" She queried, resting her head against his arm.

"Yes, I remember," you said that within minutes of our meeting for the first time." He chuckled, "and then blamed it on Mac! You were such a brat - and such a little charmer! And then," he remembered with a wicked grin, "you ran away and hid on top of the elevator car!"

"Of course," she grinned in reply, "you would remember that! I'm never going to live that down!" And then she straightened up and looked at him seriously, "Are you OK with that Harm, you don't mind that people say things that remind you about her?"

"No, I'm good. I had the same conversation with somebody else very recently; it actually helps to talk abou her and remember the good times," his said. His eyes had unconsciously focused on Jennifer as he'd said it.

Chloe stood, surreptitiously looking at him from the corner of her eye but said nothing until he had escorted her back to their party's table, where before her company was swiftly claimed by a brand new Ensign she whispered to him "I'm glad for you". Harm gave her a puzzled look before he turned to Jennifer and said, indicating the dance asked, "Shall we?"

"Let's" she said, her eyes creasing in in a smile.

Harm could never remember much of the rest of that night; he knew he danced with Meg and Caitlin, with Harriett and Mattie again. But all his memories were of dancing with Jennifer. He didn't remember seeing Chloe or Mattie leave, nor with whom, if with anyone, they left.

It was late when they returned to the hotel, and wandered back along the corridor to their suite, their arms around each other's waists and her head resting on his shoulder.

Entering the suite, she turned away from him to go to her room saying goodnight as she did so, but as she turned he said "Jennifer."

There was something in his voice that made her stop and turn back, he was standing close to her, and placing his hands gently on the upper curve of her hips he drew her towards him, and lowered his head to kiss her. She stopped him with two fingers raised against his lips and said softly, "Harm, don't, don't you dare, not unless you really mean it," her eyes, filling with fresh tears anxiously searched his eyes and face, looking for a sign. She didn't know what she was looking for, but if it was there she'd find it.

"I really mean it" was all he said, it was all he needed to say. And Jennifer found what she was looking for.

Mutely she held her face up and lips met lips, until with a gasp she broke from his hands and her tears spilling down her cheeks, spun away.

He staggered back as if she'd struck him, "Jennifer, oh, Jennifer, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" and turned his back on her, ashamed to face the friendship and trust he'd just betrayed and destroyed.

"Harm, Look at me", she said quite calmly, "I'm not sorry. It's just that I haven't done this for a long time... look at me Harm," and there was a tone of command and confidence in her voice that made him turn. Reaching up to the side of her dress, she pulled down the zipper, and giving a little shimmy let the dress slide down her body to her feet. Stepping out of the circle of fabric, she repeated, "I'm not sorry, it's time and past time," and her eyes shining walked straight towards him.

Waking in the bright summer light, Harm became aware of a pressure on his arm and warmth along his side. Looking down his face split into a huge grin as he looked at the still sleeping Jennifer. Trying not to disturb her, he eased over onto his side to face her content to watch and wait until she should wake. When she did wake it was swift, even abrupt, going from sleep to awake in just a few seconds. She looked into his eyes and murmured, "Hello, sailor." She suddenly giggled as she rolled on to her back, one forearm raised to lie across her forehead, and totally careless of the sheet which slid down to expose her breasts,

"What's so funny?" he growled, his sense of propriety offended, not but her nudity, but by her laughter, which he feared might be directed at him.

"Have you thought," she gasped, still chuckling "Now that you're back in the navy, just how much brig time we could get for this!"

He looked at her in shock for a moment and then started to smile; his smile grew into a chuckle which turned to laughter in which she joined until they both lay gasping, weak and helpless on their backs.

As he recovered he rolled on to his side again and propped himself on his elbow, idly twirling one her short curls around the index finger of his free hand. The laughter died out of his face and he asked her, "Jennifer, where do we go from here?"

Lying flat on her back with her eyes closed and enjoying the touch of his hand on her hair, she asked in turn, "Where do you want to go?"

He paused considering the question and saw that she had opened her eyes and was now, again looking into his. Shocked at himself he realised that while he had loved Mac, and had been faithful to her in the few years that they had been married, there was more than just a corner of his heart that had since their first meeting belonged to this girl-woman now lying beside him.

Looking deep into her eyes, trying to read her heart he answered, "Jennifer Caldwell, when I first met you, you were Jennifer Coates, an irritating, insubordinate, truculent sailor. I fell in love with that sailor on our second day together, when she kissed me a merry Christmas outside Church Falls chapel. Even while I loved Mac, I loved you too. I guess I found enough room in my heart for both of you."

For the second time in twenty-four hours Jennifer felt that her heart would explode. "I think that's about the same time I fell in love with you," she answered quite seriously, "Mattie used to tease me about having a crush on you, or even loving you. I used to deny it, but I think we both knew that the only person I was fooling was myself. I loved Miles, and I will always miss him, but I don't think that I would have looked at him, or any other man, if you had stayed single."

Harm thought furiously for a few seconds while she gazed into his face. Abruptly, he rolled away from her, hearing her gasp of shock as she thought he was rejecting her, and looking back over his shoulder he said, with a smile "Hold that thought, stay there, I'll be right back!" and apparently unconcerned with his own nakedness rushed through into the lounge area, where she heard him opening and closing drawers in the writing desk.

He was back within seconds, and sliding back under the sheets, he took her left hand in his and said, "Jennifer, we have known each other too long for any pussy footing. Jennifer Coates Caldwell, will you..."

"Marry me?" she finished for him.

"Yes, I will!" He flashed back at her "This may not be ideal," he grinned, but I hope it will serve until we can find a fit replacement!" and he dexterously wrapped a rubber band around her ring finger.

"Hey, not fair!" she protested. "You never asked me!"

"Maybe," he said, gently tapping her nose with a loving finger, "that will teach you not to... "

"Finish other people's sentences?" she laughed in triumph.

"Oh I doubt that, "he said.

"Harm," she asked him, the serious note back in her voice, "are you quite, quite sure about this?"

"Oh, yes, I have never been more sure of anything in this life." He looked at her, and saw that she was still in doubt of his intent. "So," he said "let's make this official!"

"Harm! What are you doing?" there was a note of laughing alarm in her voice.

"Telling the world!" he answered, reaching for his cell 'phone and dialling a number,

"No, you nutjob! it's seven o'clock on Sunday morning!"

"Leave off woman!" he said, batting her hands away as she tried to grab the 'phone, "Hi, Harriett? Hi, it's Harm. No... no... there's nothing wrong. Far from it. I'm just calling to tell you that Jennifer has just decided that she and I are getting married. Yes, that's it. Yes, I love you too, say hi to my Godsons and Goddaughter. Do you want to speak to Jennifer? She's here with me now! Oh, OK, I'll give her your love! Ow! stop it! No, not you Harriett, she's attacking me with a pillow! No, 'bye, Harriett." He finished the call, and placed the 'phone on the nightstand, he looked up at Jennifer, who was now straddling his waist and said in his best James Cagney voice, "OK, doll face, you wanna play rough, huh?"

"Oh, God no", she breathed, and leaned forward to kiss him.

Harriett Roberts replaced the phone in its cradle, and lay back down with a bemused smile on her face. She was a romantic to the bottom of her heart, who prided herself on being able to read people, and she was more than just happy for Harm and Jennifer, but, she wryly admitted, she hadn't seen that one coming.

Bud rolled over in bed to face her, and asked drowsily, "What was that, sweetie?"

"Oh, it was just Harm, to tell us that he and Jennifer are getting married," she replied in a carefully non-committal tone, gleefully anticipating Bud's surprised reaction

"Oh, good," mumbled Bud, still half asleep, "it's about time," and closed his eyes again.

Harriett pouted and sent a look of mock loathing at her oblivious, very much loved but decidedly provoking husband.

Mattie's graduation had been only four weeks ago, remembered Jennifer as she waited in the vestibule of the little Spanish Church on Saratoga Avenue. Despite her acceptance of Harm's proposal, she had had some reservations. Harm had had to reassure her on several occasions that he loved her, had loved her for a long time, would always love her and wanted to marry her. She had been evasive when he asked her what was troubling her; she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she sometimes, somehow thought she would be betraying Mac. She had made the time to visit Miles and tell him that although she still loved him, she had found a new love. Eventually Harm had overcome her ostensible qualms. So, at this time and in this place, she waited to join her bridegroom. She was dressed simply in a cream ankle length dress with a chaplet of white roses in lieu of a veil. He was waiting for her in front of the alter in his Dress Whites and Gold Wings, supported by Bud Roberts and with twenty-four of his brother officers waiting to form the guard of honour. She was supported by Admiral Chegwidden, whom she had asked to travel to California just to give her away; Fran Martinez was her matron of honour charged with supervising flower girl Hannah, and her bridesmaids were Mattie and Chloe. The music swelled from the great organ and the Admiral looked down at her and said, "Ready Chief Petty Officer?"

She nodded and they stepped off into the church proper. But just before she crossed the threshold she thought, just for a second, she saw a figure of a woman dressed in a Colonel's Marine green uniform and heard a soft voice say, "He's all yours now, look after our flyboy, Petty Officer."