Sunday 23 September 2007

A good night's sleep, uninterrupted even by Fran's early hours of the morning return, did much to refresh Jen, and she awoke ready for the day just as the sun was rising. Contenting herself with brushing her teeth and pulling her hair back into a pony-tail, she slipped on T-shirt and shorts and a pair of sneakers, and hanging her key around her neck together with her whistle, she checked her pepper-spray and slipping it into the pocket of her shorts headed out for a run. Jen hated running, but comforted herself by knowing that it was not only a way to maintain fitness, but that it also helped to keep her figure trim. Out to Midway Towne and back alongside the Ocean Beach Bike Path should be about five miles she reckoned, and should take her a little over a half an hour. That ought to be enough for a Sunday, she told herself, and running on the grass would be easier on her knees than running on concrete or tarmac.

Despite the early hour, the day already had a noticeable degree of warmth and it was a red-faced and deeply-breathing young woman who returned to her apartment some forty minutes later. Fran had not yet emerged from her bedroom, and Jen seeing the Omni hotel's 'Do Not Disturb' card hanging from the door-knob, and knowing that the sign meant Tim had probably stayed over, made a mental note to be fully dressed outside of her own bedroom.

A shower and shampoo completed Jen's morning ablutions, and sitting on the edge of her bed with hair-dryer and brush in hand she set about making herself presentable for the day.

Fran and Tim woke while Jen was making her breakfast of toast and coffee, and took their time over their own morning preparations, finally sitting down to breakfast just as Jen finished hers.

Jen was all set for an idle Sunday, and settled on the couch, happy to browse through the Sunday newspapers and not really paying much attention to anything, or maybe watching a TV movie - if there were any worth watching. Her first inkling of anything unusual was the sound of a falling kitchen stool as Tim jumped to his feet and his staccato, "Ma'am! Good morning, ma'am!"

Jen, looking up from her newspaper, was startled to see Mac standing in the doorway, the door evidently having been opened for her by Fran.

Mac smiled "Stand down, Marine; I'm here as a private citizen and as a guest. Jennifer, can we talk?"

Startled by the informality of Mac's address, an informality she rarely used, Jen stuttered her assent, and turning to Fran and Tim asked, "Guys, can we have the room, please?"

"Sure" answered Fran, "How long do you need?"

"An hour?" suggested Jen, looking at Mac for confirmation. Mac's brief nod was all that was needed for Tim to suggest that he and Fran took a walk along the beach, and so, picking up the stool, and making their farewells, the pair left the two alone in the apartment.

"Jennifer, I've come to talk to you about..."

"Mattie, ma'am?"

Mac smiled despite her worries, it seemed that a succession of commanding officers had failed to break Jen of her habit of finishing others' sentences.

"Yes, Mattie. It seems she thinks that she's in love with this..."

"Caldwell, ma'am?"

Mac blew a soft sigh of relief, "She told you then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, did you really think that she..."

"Wouldn't, Jennifer"? Mac's smile was one of delight at being able, for once, to turn the tables on her Yeoman.

Jen's own grin showed her own appreciation of Mac's rejoinder. "Ma'am, if we're going to talk this thing out, and try to make sense of it all, I'm going to have to jolt my brain awake... won't you join me in a cup of coffee?"

"I will, thank you." Mac followed Jen to the breakfast bar, where Jen busied herself with filter paper, water and coffee while Mac sat patiently until she had finished and the fresh coffee was brewing.

"Are you on your own, ma'am?" Jen, suddenly aware of a feeling of awkwardness, and trying to ease into the forthcoming discussion, was the first to break the silence.

"Yes," replied Mac, "I dropped Mattie off at Long Branch - at the Graham's place"

"Well, she'll be OK there, ma'am. I have to tell you ma'am that Mrs Graham sort of knows what's going on; we met, by chance, yesterday while we were shopping and she's worried about Mattie; ma'am, we met Louise Barr too; she knows something's wrong too, but says she doesn't want to know. "

"No, she would prefer not to get involved. But if Mrs Graham's worried, I assure you she's not half as worried as I am, Jennifer. From something Mattie said, I got the idea that this Caldwell was from Virginia, so I called Commander Manetti, you remember her, of course?"

Jen nodded in confirmation.

"Well because of the circles the Commander's family moves in, and the way she investigated Lieutenant Singer for Mr Rabb, I asked her to do some discreet digging into this Caldwell's background."

"Sounds like a plan to me, ma'am."

Both women fell silent for a moment. An exchanged glance was sufficient unspoken confirmation that they were both remembering that the first time Jen had used that phrase to Mac; they were arguing over who should go and eat while they were waiting to hear whether or not Bud Roberts was going to survive the operation to amputate his shattered leg.

Mac cleared her throat, which had somehow become constricted by the memory of that day and said a bit shakily, "I could use that coffee, now, Jennifer."

Jen, her own throat tightened, smiled mistily, and managed a "Yes, ma'am"

A few more silent moments passed as they pretended to sip their coffee while bringing their emotions back under control.

"Wow," said Jen eventually, "Where did that suddenly come from?"

"Well, I guess we're both pretty strung out with this Mattie thing," suggested Mac.

"Yes, ma'am, maybe more than we realised!"

"So... as I was saying, I asked Commander Manetti to do a little bit of digging, and what she has found out worries me. No! It pisses me off! What I'd really like to do is get hold of this Caldwell and tear him a new one!"

"Not advisable ma'am. I can guess how you feel, but a hostile approach to him will only drive a wedge deeper between you and Mattie!"

"I tell you, Jennifer, I'm not far off wanting to do the same to Mattie! I'd do it too, if I wasn't afraid it would turn her into a martyr! I tried to tell her not wear her heart on her sleeve - and do you know what she said to me? - No of course you don't! She said, and I quote, 'I'm not ashamed of loving Stacy! Why should I hide it?' What's that all about?"

"That's not the only argument, though, is it ma'am?" Jen inquired gently. "I heard there was something about Mattie not being in your Army?"

"Yes, there was," admitted Mac, "and worse, she said that I wasn't her guardian, and had no rights over her. Oh, Jennifer, I like Mattie, but... but..."

"But she's not your flesh and blood, is she ma'am? And it was Mr Rabb who became her guardian, and then you married him, so it's all a bit...complicated, isn't it?"

"Yes, Jennifer it is complicated. It's not even as if Harm had adopted her. Oh, I know it shouldn't make any difference, but I feel like it ought to! Although I'd probably still be the wicked stepmother!"

"No, ma'am," was Jennifer's quietly spoken response, "you could never be that. Mattie is lucky to have you and Har... er... Mr Rabb in her life."

Mac flashed a half-smile in recognition of Jen's opinion, "It's alright, Jennifer, you can say 'Harm' in front of me."

"Ma'am."

"But back to Commander Manetti; the Caldwells are well known in Virginia, apparently their ancestors landed on Plymouth Rock, or long before the Revolution, anyway! They used to have considerable holdings in the Virginia Piedmont, as well as interests in ranches in Texas and New Mexico. Their ancestors did well by themselves, but the present family is notable only for its taste for an expensive life-style and nothing else. This Stacy Caldwell has a reputation as a player and a gambler - and not a very good one! According to Commander Manetti his father was no better, losing a lot of the family money on slow horses; while as for his uncle, he was expelled from VMI, and failed to get into university, and finally burned through his capital in a couple of years, until he was packed off to South America with orders never to show his face in Virginia again! As for the land, the Piedmont holdings are gone, and the Sonoma vineyard is mortgaged to the last cent. So, Mr Caldwell is not the man he wants people to think he is!"

"No, ma'am," Jen replied thoughtfully, "but... that's all, or mostly about his family... does Commander Manetti have any discreditable evidence about this Caldwell that would stand up in court?"

"You've been spending too much time around Lawyers, Jennifer! Yes, there might be, firstly there's the age difference; and although its only hearsay, apparently last year he persuaded some foolish girl back in Virginia to run away with him, but luckily her family found out before the event. The father brought some sort of pressure to bear and virtually had Caldwell run out of the state; it appears that's when Mr Caldwell decided to re-locate to California. The affair was apparently hushed up, you know how those old Virginia families can be, so it never even made the gossip columns, but the story is known."

"That's bad, ma'am, really bad. But how can I help? I've already tried to hint to Mattie that he's not the guy for her, but that just made her all defensive. I didn't push it, 'cause I'm hoping that if I'm there for her, she'll eventually come round."

"Thank you, Jennifer. That's all I could ask of you, and it's exactly what I was hoping for since I am the wicked step-mother in this case!"

"Ma'am, I shouldn't worry too much about that. If I know Mattie, she didn't mean what she said about you not being her guardian and all... It's that red hair she's got, sometimes it kinda heats up her brain, and she loses it, and says things she doesn't really mean, and I'll bet she's already sorry she did say it. But ma'am, I'm not really up to speed on this. What does Harm say? How come Mattie's not listening to him?"

"Well, Harm's stuck in DC, the Federal Grand Jury hearing, isn't going too well. He's really worried too; he's tried talking to Mattie a time or two, but he says it's like talking to a brick wall. We need him back here and... and I miss him"

Mac dropped her eyes and seemed to concentrate on her index finger, which was idly drawing circles on the surface of the breakfast counter. "There's something else, Jennifer." She hesitated and then drawing a deep breath continued, "I tried telling Mattie, that even if there was no age gap, she was still far too young to be thinking of getting married. Do you know what she said? She said if it was OK for me to marry young, then it was OK for her! I tried telling her that I was nineteen, not seventeen and that I was drunk, and that the whole thing was a disaster. She said that she had learned from my mistakes."

Jen winced, "Ouch! That must have been hard to hear, ma'am."

"Harder than you can know, Jennifer. Damn it, I thought I'd had a few problems with Chloe, but at least she never put me through crap like this!"

Jen, desperately trying to lighten the mood, and taking a gamble, smiled cheerfully, "Never mind, ma'am, she's a bit younger than Mattie, isn't she? So, she's still got time to pull the same sort of crap."

Mac jerked her head up to stare, appalled, into Jen's eyes, then as the sense behind the words made itself clear to her, she relaxed slightly, "Petty Officer," she said it tones of mock severity, "you are coming dangerously close to..."

"Insubordination, ma'am?"

"Yes, damn it!" Mac could not help but smile at the carefully expressionless, non-committal face Jen had maintained throughout this last exchange. "Can I take it then, that you're willing to help us out, here?"

"As always, ma'am."

"It's not part of your duties, Jennifer," Mac reminded her.

"No, ma'am." Not part of my naval duties, anyway, thought Jen.

"But thank you for that, Jennifer, and... thank you for letting me vent."

"Any time ma'am." Meeting Mac's questioning look, Jen insisted, "I mean that, ma'am."

"Thank you, Jennifer."

The sound footsteps in the hall and a knock at the door informed the two that Fran and Tim had returned from their walk. Mac gathered up her purse and jacket, and said, signalling a return to naval formality, "Thank you again, Petty Officer, I'll be glad to see you back at your desk in the morning," and opening the door to let herself out added, "Good morning Neumann, good morning Sergeant Martinez." and with brisk steps headed off down the hallway to the elevator.

Tim looked after her in surprised trepidation, "She... she knows my name..?" and in suspicion turned to Jen, "You... you... didn't tell her, did you?"

"I didn't need to, Tim," Jen grinned, "She's the Colonel!"

Monday 24 September 2007

The next morning marked Jen's return to normal duty at JAG. An habitually early riser, she had no problem fitting in her morning run with juggling shower, hairdryer and mirror time with Fran. Fran's suggestion that they return to car-pooling, however, she regretfully turned down, ruefully explaining that she would probably be working late for a while to get caught up on all that had happened in her absence.

Her forebodings were correct, and for the whole week she failed to return home before nine o'clock each evening. For the first two days the atmosphere at work had been strange. Mac's Sunday visit and the ensuing conversation had in some indefinable way changed the dynamic between Colonel and Petty Officer, but office routine and naval discipline allowed both women to draw a discreet veil over the events of the weekend and to maintain their working relationship.

Fran, not unnaturally, had been curious about the details of Mac's visit but Jen had kept silent, despite her friend's attempts to worm information out of her. Fran, however, had been covering Jen's workload while the latter had been away, and no fool herself, while handing back her duties to Jen had picked up on the subtle changes in Mac and Jen's relationship.

As far as Jen was concerned Mattie's troubles had to take a back seat while she read herself back into her job, and in all honesty she had very little time to worry about her young friend. The uniform of the day was still summer dress whites, and no matter how careful the wearer was, it was inevitable that a fresh uniform would be needed daily, and the required washing and ironing cut down further on Jen's time in when she could be considering her plan to separate Mattie from the totally unsuitable Stacy Caldwell.

Mr Caldwell did not return to San Diego that week, nor did he call Mattie. Mac began to hope that she had been making a mountain out of a mole-hill, and that Caldwell had only been amusing himself with a flirtation. These hopes she relayed to Jen, and could have borne, although her heart was aching for Mattie's pain, with a fair degree of tolerance her misery at Caldwell's neglect, if on the following Monday Mattie's behaviour had not suddenly changed from sadness to joy. Guessing that the change in attitude stemmed from the return of Caldwell to San Diego, Mac warned Jen to prepare herself for the battles ahead, the fallout of which she was sure that Jen would have to suffer.

Jen who also had been hoping that Caldwell's departure from San Diego and his subsequent neglect had put a stop to Mattie's infatuation, was equally dismayed at Mattie's sudden mood reversal. She had been the recipient of an ecstatic and almost incoherent 'phone call from Mattie the words tumbling out of her mouth in quick succession, telling her that "Stacy was back in town, and the reason he hadn't called was that almost upon his arrival in DC, he had been mugged and his cell phone stolen! And of course her number had been on speed-dial and he didn't have another record of it, so he couldn't call her, could he? Because Mac wouldn't let him call her on the house 'phone. But everything was alright now!"

Jen just about managed to confine herself to non-committal comments and weathered the storm of juvenile emotion with what she flattered herself had been considerable calm, although she was deeply perturbed. Fran's announcement that she was feeling a bit woozy and she was going to have an early night, was barely acknowledged, but the blonde girl's absence did allow Jen to indulge in profitless reflection. Her late night thoughts as she put herself to bed kept her awake for a considerable time, and no amount of tossing and turning or pillow-punching seemed to help.