She sits on her back patio, staring past the person sitting across the table from her. Her mind is somewhere other than the conversation. She fixates on a tree in the backyard.
"Did you hear anything I just said?"
She blinks, and makes eye contact with Harriet, "Huh?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm sorry."
"How long are you going to let this go on?"
"You know the answer to that."
"He stopped by the house. He just wants to see you."
"I don't want to see him."
"Don't you think that you owe him a face to face conversation?"
"I don't owe him anything."
"He has vowed that he will sign the papers if you just sit down and talk with him."
"There is nothing to talk about," she argues.
"Mac, there is plenty to talk about."
"There is nothing that I want to talk about with him."
"What are you afraid of?"
She scowls, "Do you even have to ask?"
"That he'll change his mind?"
"He has made it pretty clear that he doesn't want a divorce."
"He quit his job."
"Harriet, I don't care. It doesn't matter anymore."
"I know that you don't want to care, but you do. No matter what you say, I know that it still matters."
"It doesn't change the fact that I don't want to be married to him anymore."
"You have to talk to him. You don't have a choice."
"Yes, I do."
"What are you going to do, avoid him for the rest of your life?"
"If I have to."
"Is that why you put the house up for sale?"
"The house is too big."
"You're full of excuses," Harriet calls her on her load of crap.
"Why are you pushing this? You, yourself have said that we should end the marriage."
"Even if you don't have any desire to listen to what he has to say, you have to admit that there are things you need to say to him."
"I have said them."
"Circumstances change."
"Nothing is going to make me change my mind."
"You made that pretty obvious, months ago."
Harriet enters the General's office, closing the door behind her. Sarah rises from her chair to meet her.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," Mac nods, swallowing hard.
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
"Just feeling a little under the weather," she admits.
"Maybe you should sit down," Harriet suggests.
"I'm fine," she argues.
"What did you want to see me about?"
Mac leans against the front of her desk. "I… um," she tries to ignore the feeling at the pit of her stomach.
Without another word Harriet steps forward, grabbing the waste paper basket from beside Mac's desk. She holds it in front of the general as she proceeds to vomit into it.
"I am so sorry."
"Are you okay?"
"I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me."
"The only thing that doesn't agree with your stomach is flying," Harriet points out.
That evening she gets home later than usual. She peels off her clothes, and sinks to her nose in a bubble bath. Even the calm of a nice bath can't seem to quiet her mind. She replays Harriet's words in her mind. She exits the bathtub, and grabs a towel. She wraps the fluffy white towel around her body, and proceeds to the sink. She squats down, and opens the cabinet door. She peers into the cabinet underneath the sink. She finds tub and tile cleaner, and an assortment of other cleaners. She reaches towards the back. Her fingers land on a box. She retrieves the box, and closes the cabinet doors. She rises to her feet.
She goes to bed, after drying her hair. Exhausted from a long day of work she falls asleep on top of the covers. It's the first decent night of rest she's gotten in the five weeks since Harm's departure. She wakes to the sound of the blaring alarm clock. She peels herself out of bed, and heads to the bathroom to pee. After peeing, she finds herself at the sink washing her hands. She glances to her right at a plastic stick. As she turns off the faucet she reaches for a towel. Her eyes fixate on the seemingly neon color pink. Her heart skips a beat.
"Shit!"
"Can we talk about something else?" Mac questions.
"I can't think of anything else," Harriet admits.
"Why are you so adamant about me talking to him?"
"Don't you think that he deserves to know the truth?"
"Yes."
"So why won't you talk to him?"
"Because I don't know what the truth is."
"You need to be honest with him."
"I don't know if I can do that."
"He isn't going to sign the papers unless you have a face to face with him."
"I feel like I'm being held hostage in my own marriage."
"You don't make it easy," Harriet points out.
"Excuse me?"
"The walls that you build up around yourself make it difficult for anyone, including him to get through."
"I just want to put all of this behind me."
"Mac I think that is easier said than done."
"Now is not the right time for me to have this conversation with him."
"There is never going to be a right time."
"You don't know the half of it."
"How could I? You don't talk to me, either."
"I am talking to you now," Sarah argues.
"Yeah, but you're not saying anything."
"What do you expect?"
"I expect for you to feel something."
"I do."
"But you don't share it with anyone."
"Harriet, there are things that about me that no one else needs to know."
"You know, Harm is not the only one to blame for your marriage not working."
"I never said that he was."
"How is he supposed to be here for you, when you won't let him?"
"I never told him to go."
"And you don't let him in when he's here."
