"Are you wearing that again?"
"Don't start," she warned, as she buttoned her uniform. "You know, you might consider putting on a uniform yourself. It couldn't hurt your chances of getting hired."
He laughed aloud at this idea.
She was affronted. "What?"
"Margaret, even if I still had any uniforms, you couldn't pay me to put one on! I despise them!"
"What do you mean, if you still had any?"
"I got rid of 'em all."
"You're kidding!"
"Why would I keep them? You know how much I hate the army!"
"You didn't even keep the Class A?"
"No. I hated that one most of all! And the one really good memory associated with it wasn't enough to balance out all the bad ones."
"I suppose you wore it to your court martial."
"Not to mention Klinger's, and Kyoong Soon's mother's funeral and–"
"What was the good memory?"
"I once made you happy with it."
She sighed, softening, and put her hands on his shoulders.
"I can get a job on my own merits anyway."
She gripped his lapels in her fists as she demanded, "Are you implying I need to wear my uniform in order to get hired?!"
"No, Margaret. Why do you always assume the worst?" He covered her hands with his.
"I don't–"
Unclenching her fists, he took her hands in his. "The uniform is fine for you. You're an army nurse–why wouldn't you wear it? I was just trying to get a rise out of you before. I guess I just got a little more than I bargained for." He smiled at her.
"You enjoy baiting me."
"What can I say? You're a passionate woman. I've always enjoyed that about you."
"Oh, I get it now," she said, cottoning on.
"Get what?"
"You've developed a taste for another kind of passion with me, but since you've gone and put that one on your forbidden list, you're having your fun by baiting me, just like old times."
"I did not– I never– God, is that what I'm doing? Boy, this could be a really interesting day!"
"Where are you?" they heard Daniel call across the hall. "Oh, there you are." He came into Margaret's room. "I'm leaving for the office. I packed the picnic basket for you." He hugged Hawkeye. "Son, I'll see you when you get back.
"Margaret..." He touched her shoulders affectionately. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it's been getting to know you. You're a beautiful person. I hope–" he glanced at Hawkeye, who smiled at him, "I hope I see you again real soon."
"Me too, Daniel." She hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her. They exchanged kisses on the cheek and goodbyes, and Daniel left, wiping an eye.
Margaret sniffled.
"The Pierce men have a gift for making you cry."
"This better work out between us," she warned, "because I don't want to lose him either!"
He gathered her into his arms. "He's crazy about you too. Believe me, no one wants this to work more than I do."
"Let's get going then, before I have time to start missing him."
"This is your car?!"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing. I just... assumed a doctor would have something newer."
"Well, it's reliable. And comfortable. And it's paid for. I don't see the point of getting a new one." He looked at her in puzzlement.
"Of course you don't. Forget I mentioned it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She took a deep breath. "Nothing, really. I apologize. My comments were out of line."
"You're willing to be seen in this car then?"
"Of course I am. Let's not blow this out of proportion."
"Me?! You're the one who said–"
"Hawkeye, I said I was sorry!"
"All right! Apology accepted. I'm just trying to understand your point."
"It's like the class A uniforms, I think. It's just one of those things we're not going to see eye to eye on."
"Oh. Ok, I get it."
During their road trip, Margaret discovered that Hawkeye completely lacked any embarrassment or reluctance about asking for directions. It made for a smooth and relaxed trip. And she came to the conclusion that it all fit. He took no pride or interest in cars, had no emotional investment in them whatsoever. To him, cars were nothing more or less than transportation.
They managed to visit four hospitals before running out of business hours, one in Crabapple Cove, one in Augusta and two in Portland. Margaret wrote detailed notes after each visit, pointing out that hospitals were similar enough that the details would start to run together after a while. Hawkeye thought that when he found the right place it would stand out and he wouldn't need any notes, but he kept the thought to himself.
Continuing southwest, they stopped around sundown at a roadside diner, where they not only got hot, homemade, tasty food, but also information and advice about local motels from the couple who ran the place. Naturally, given Margaret's attire, they also had to talk about the war for quite a while. Hawkeye was war-weary by the time they left. He handed Margaret the hand-drawn map on the back of the placemat and let her navigate. He yawned greatly as they pulled up to the motel. They got out of the car and walked into the office.
"Evening, folks," said the desk clerk, a middle-aged man.
"And a very good evening to you!" Margaret beamed.
"We'd like a room please," Hawkeye said, too tired for pleasantries. "Or... do we want two?" he said, turning to Margaret.
Margaret turned to him, looking hurt, and placed her left hand conspicuously on the counter. Hawkeye wondered when she had put on her wedding ring. "Dear," she said, "I know we haven't been getting along lately, but don't you think two rooms is going a bit far?!"
He was tired, and it took him a beat longer than it should have to catch on. "Uh... I don't what I could have been thinking of. Dear."
"One room will be fine," Margaret smiled sweetly, in spite of her mood. Hawkeye filled out the registration card while the desk clerk got their key.
"Number 12. Last room on the right." He pointed. "Checkout is at noon. Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs..." he picked up the card, "Pierce."
They got back into the car. "Two rooms?!"
"I'm sorry. We should have discussed it before we went in."
She was in shrill mode, as he expected. "Discussed it? Discussed it?! What's to discuss?! We've been sharing a bed the last three nights and now you want separate rooms?!"
"You said–no, of course I don't want separate rooms!" He was too tired for this. "You said you didn't like pretending to be someone you're not! I thought we'd get two rooms, so we could be honest and use our own names. But that doesn't mean we have to use both rooms." He started the car and slowly drove to the vacant spot in front of Number 12.
Hawkeye's reply had mostly taken away her reason to be angry, and Margaret tried to calm down and find something reasonable to say. "I guess I don't care about being myself with motel desk clerks any more than I do with nosy pharmacists. A nice, convenient lie makes things easier for everyone."
He shrugged. "I guess so. You think on your feet."
They let themselves in. Margaret called dibs on the bathroom and Hawkeye fell asleep only half undressed before she returned. She watched him sleep for a minute, wondering why he was so tired. He'd been in good spirits all day, jokes flying left, right, and center. She undressed him without waking him and covered him up. The sheets were cold as she slid into bed next to him, and she nestled close to him to get warm.
It was the war. The stupid conversation about the war. She enjoyed talking about it, especially when she was being thanked and admired. She enjoyed bragging about their 98 survival rate. He had more reason even than she to be proud of that statistic. But numbers weren't what he cared about; people were, and those he'd lost were what he remembered. That and the pointlessness of it all.
Maybe she should change out of her uniform when they were in public. But she liked the attention it brought. She went to sleep puzzling over how to reconcile their decidedly different feelings and attitudes on the matter.
After a moment's disorientation, the room coalesced around Hawkeye. He looked at Margaret and smiled. He turned and watched her sleep, pressing his knuckles against his mouth.
She stirred after a few minutes, and her eyes fluttered open. He smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her. She smiled back and cuddled closer. "It's nice to wake up to a smile," she murmured.
"It's nice to wake up next to you. I could get used to this."
"Me too." She began to nuzzle against him. "Am I still on your forbidden list?"
"You must be. I've been trying not to kiss you for five minutes now."
She smiled. "I could seduce you, I bet."
"No bet. Hot Lips." He smiled. "And I appreciate that you haven't tried."
"You're making me crazy, you know."
"I'm making me crazy too."
"Hawkeye, what is it that you need? Before you can make love to me again? Help me understand."
"I need... I want to feel like we have some chance together."
"And what does that mean to you?"
"It means I'm afraid to commit unless we have something that has a decent chance of lasting."
"Right. But in concrete terms, how are you envisioning 'some chance together'? Give me an example maybe."
He took a deep breath and his eyes fixed on something too far away to be within the confines of their small room. "I guess... I see us working and living in the same city. And preferably a whole lot closer than just in the same city." His eyes returned to her. "How do you feel about living together?"
"You want to live together?!" she asked, as he asked himself the same question.
Deep in thought, his reply was a few moments coming. "I think I do."
"You only just managed 'I love you' the day before yesterday! Are you sure you're ready for that big a step?!"
There was another long pause as he thought some more. "Margaret... I don't share my heart easily. Once I give it, it's yours, completely. I don't want it back. I want yours in return. Maybe..." his eyes were off in the middle distance again. "I wonder if my heart is in such bad shape because I gave it to Carlye and she threw it away, and it's been lying in a ditch somewhere ever since."
She gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "What about Kyoong-Soon?"
He returned to the present again. "What about her?"
"Didn't you give your heart to her?"
He raised his eyebrows. "She found it and stole it. I have never fallen so hard so fast. I can't explain it." He paused, and then mused, "She took better care of it, at least, and I think she gave it back to me." In a voice barely above a whisper, he continued, "She may be the most unselfish person I've ever met, giving up her own life to care for people she felt responsible for..."
"If she'd turned up on your doorstep the way I did, what would your reaction have been?"
He returned to now again. "Why are you asking that?" This didn't seem to him like an especially wise road to be traveling.
"Because I want to know. Please?"
He sighed and after a moment, indulged her."It would never happen. So it's hard to imagine. She's on the other side of the world, taking care of a whole flock of people who need her. But let's say they have someone else to look after them. And she somehow found money to get all the way to Maine. Let's don't try and imagine how. And she somehow also managed to get approval from the US government to immigrate here. I guess after I was revived from fainting, I'd be glad to see her."
"What would your attitude be toward her? And what would your intentions be?"
He looked at her, puzzled. "Margaret–"
"Would you be as conflicted as you are right now, or would your feelings and the path before you be clearer?"
"Oh, you're asking me to compare you! That is so unfair to you both! The circumstances are–would be–entirely different!"
She didn't know how to ask again without being completely rude, so she settled for pleading with her eyes. (Hey, it worked for him.)
After a few moments, he gave in. "Fine. I would probably feel some obligation to her, what with her having traveled to the other side of the world and it having cost her God knows what." He shuddered slightly. "I wouldn't be any more prepared to get married than I am today. Is that what you wanted to know?"
"Would it be easier with her? Finding a way to be together?"
"This is all speculation!"
She pleaded silently again.
His contemplative mood made him give in again. "Fine. Assuming she could get herself here, I guess we'd also have to assume that she'd given up her life in Korea and was ready to stay. Which would mean she had no other obligations–or opportunities. And in that case, yes, it would be easier with her. You do have other obligations and opportunities, and I won't have you throwing them away on a whim. For that matter, I wouldn't want to her to give up her life on faith like that either. What if it didn't work out? Where would she be? It's a good thing the odds of it happening are zero! On the other hand..." He took a deep breath. "For all I know, she could be dead by now. I'd sure rather have her here in the States, safe. It kills me that I'll never know what happened to her." He swallowed painfully. "Can we not talk about her any more?"
"I'm sorry. And thank you."
He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to dismiss feelings he had no way at all of acting on. "Did you get something useful out of all that?"
She nodded.
"What?"
"You convinced me that I'm... not a consolation prize. That you're not settling... for me."
"Oh God! Margaret, what have I done to you?!" He pulled her close and buried his head in her neck.
"Oh no! Hawkeye, that's not what I–I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just–"
He met her eyes again. "You spoke from your heart, and it spoke the truth. I have so much to make up to you. I'm sorry."
"No! I don't want you to apologize! You helped me shine a light into a dark, scary corner, and now it's not so scary any more. That's a good thing! Right?"
After a long, intent moment, he nodded. He pressed his forehead to hers. He suddenly wanted her ferociously. "I think I need to get out of this bed right now."
Margaret smiled and kissed him noisily on the cheek. "Go."
He reluctantly let go of her and got up. But something within him called him back, and he sat back down, facing her. "I wish I would get over whatever it is that's keeping me away from you. I miss you." He took her hand and leaned down to kiss it. "I love you."
And he retreated to the bathroom, leaving Margaret feeling both quite disappointed and giddily happy, a juxtaposition she wouldn't have thought possible.