All in Good Time

by 1 Jagged Outlaw Queen

Blood doesn't always make us family, but love does it every time. Laura is back along with her favorite marine aunt and flyboy uncle. And, their little family is growing exponentially. This is volume 3 of my Rabb-Mackenzie saga. THIS STORY IS UNDER EDITING TO REMOVE TYPOS & DICTATION ERRORS.

21. Day One

Chapter 21: Day One

Author's note: Merry Christmas y'all.

---

November 16, 2007

Rabb residence

0902 hours

"Grandma's here!" Laura sings out happily, unwittingly guaranteeing that she is heard by all in the house as well as the woman standing outside on the front porch. The little girl gets ready to hop down from her perch on a kitchen bar stool as Chloe trots quickly through the cozy living room on her way to the front door.

"Uh uh Missy! You stay right there. Finish your breakfast." Chloe smiles brightly as she turns the knob and finds a familiar face examining the new door knocker installed since last she was here.

Trish greets her with enthusiasm after she pauses momentarily in the doorway, reaching out to gently finger the new wood carving in artistic appreciation. The Naval and Marine Corps officer's insignia, are beautifully carved in dual representation; one on either side of the heavy knocker with Mackenzie–Rabb discreetly carved beneath in a fine, yet masculine script.

"Well, that's just gorgeous; isn't it? Welcome back, darling! When did you arrive?"

"Shortly after midnight. It's been a crazy two weeks at school but I'm off for Thanksgiving break and planning to make most of it!"

Slipping past her into the tiny foyer, Trish chuckles merrily. "Your idea of making the most of a break from classes is to start your Thanksgiving holiday off with a doctor's appointment?"

Chloe laughs as she helps the older woman out of her light-weight jacket. "Well no, not exactly, but it's for a good cause."

"Well now, I can't argue with that."

"You want a quick cup of coffee? We've got time. No one's quite ready to leave just yet."

"Alright." Trish smiles; easily persuaded.

"Sit!" Chloe hangs the jacket on the wall mounted coat rack and then pats the bar stool next to Laura's on her way into the kitchen. She chuckles softly when the girl's dog complies with the single word command that wasn't intended for her.

On her way to the offered seat, she is greeted by Laura's bright smile while the girl shakes her head and informs her furry friend, "Chloe wasn't talking to you, silly girl." Trish settles in and embraces the small girl in greeting as Chloe sets a fresh cup of dark roast on the bar in front of her.

The young photographer is easily able to anticipate Trish's next comment when she catches herself and pauses halfway through the words, "Will there be... anything else?' Sorry, it's habit." She laughs. "I know, I sound like a waitress. Gotta pay for school somehow, but it's getting to the point that I probably mutter those five words in my sleep. On the plus side, you keep selling my photos, and I might be able to quit the diner before too much longer."

"I've already told you, darling, your work sells itself. All I provide is the wall space." Trish sips the steaming, robust brew with care. "Oh good, it's not marine-grade but Harm didn't make it either."

"I told him he wasn't allowed to make it; not while I'm here. He doesn't know what good coffee is!" Chloe declares with a laugh as Mac enters the kitchen from the master bedroom with her head tipped slightly to one side so she can fasten an earring into place.

The Marine smiles at the newest arrival and then calls over her shoulder; "Harm, 14 minutes to go, or you're going to be late picking up Harriett… and your mom's here."

Both women listen for and accept Harm's muffled response even though his exact words are not entirely discernible.

To Chloe Mac says, "Pour him a cup – milk and two generous teaspoons of sugar - but put it in his travel mug. He'll have to drink it on the go. He just got out of the shower." She holds up a finger silently asking for another moment and backtraces her steps. She returns seconds later with a pair of heels in her hand and drops them lightly to the floor; using a foot to arrange them so that she can step into them.

As she does this Trish asks, "Where did you get the new door knocker? It's magnificent, and a custom design like that must have cost you a pretty penny."

Mac shakes her head. "Didn't cost us a thing… unless you count the vows. It was a wedding present from Uncle Matt. I sent him a collection of wedding pictures. The knocker arrived last week along with a note telling me that if I had written more than two days before the wedding, it wouldn't have been a late wedding gift."

"I do hope he wasn't truly disappointed."

"Not at all! It wasn't a genuine complaint; just some good-natured ribbing. He likes Harm. I've known that since the moment he asked 'Sarah, where did you find this man!' eleven years ago. If he didn't he would have waited until he and I were alone and then he'd have told me to put Harm back under whichever rock I found him beneath."

As Trish chuckles, Mac turns her attention to her niece. "Laura, have you fed Candy yet?"

The girl nods with enthusiasm as she spears a ¼ of a sausage patty with her fork, chomps on it, and then washes it down with a sip of milk. "We got up late. She was hungry. She brought her empty food bowl to my room and dropped it on my face while I was still asleep."

Trish glances at the Labrador on the floor as Laura's feet. "She'll bring you her empty bowl?"

Biting into a slice of cantaloupe, Laura nods. "And drop it on your face! We didn't teach her to do that either. She figured that out to all by herself. I think she borrows Aunt Mac's clock! She knows when it's time to eat!"

Shaking her head for Laura's benefit, Mac explains, "She's on a feeding schedule, and she's used to it. If she gets hungry because we're late serving a meal, she will bring her bowl to whoever's available. It's her way of saying, 'Hey, what gives? Feed me!' It's usually Laura's responsibility, and Candy knows that too. Because food reinforces her training, it's a rule that 99% of her food come directly from Laura. On the rare occasion that they're separated - usually when Laura and Liam are off on an outing with Liam's mother that may not be particularly dog-friendly - Candy stays here with me. For example, they can't take Candy along when they go fishing in the Harrell's boat; they'd catch nothing but a wet dog. I'm always up early, so she's never dropped an empty food bowl on my face while I slept but, on the infrequent occasion that I feed her, I have stepped out of the shower to find her looking at me expectantly with the rim of her bowl clenched in her teeth."

Trish chuckles quietly over the rim of her coffee cup before taking another sip. "You're lucky she doesn't invite herself in."

Laura shakes her head. "Candy hates the shower. She hates rain too."

Trish eyes the dog curiously.

"I asked the dog trainer about it." Mac supplies. "This dog loves a standing body of water. It doesn't matter if it's in a pond, a puddle, a swimming pool, a bathtub, or even a large bucket. However, she doesn't like falling water. According to the dog trainer, because a dog's hearing is more acute than a human's hearing, many of them don't like the sound of falling water. Even something as gentle as a shower can disorient them; interfere with their ability to interpret what else they hear, as well as how far away or how near the sound is. So, she's never invited herself into the shower with me but one day last year I was enjoying a late night bath, and I was also very nearly asleep. I left the door ajar thinking I would hear Laura if she called out for me, but it didn't work out that way. When Laura began having a nightmare, her distress upset Candy badly enough that she came to get me at a run… and jumped right in. She was already airborne before I knew what was happening. So, there was no time to call her off. Fortunately, because she was worried about Laura, she got out of the tub almost as quickly as she got in it. Ever had an 80-pound dog take a running leap and land on your chest? It's not pleasant! She nearly drowned me!" One second I was dozing lazily in the tub. The next there was water up my nose and I was sputtering, coughing, and trying desperately to get her off of me."

"Oh dear! I think I'd make a point of being certain the door was firmly latched after that; maybe even locked, I have seen her open doors. If she'll come get you, then there's no need to leave the door open. I've never heard her bark, but I've heard you say she will if Laura's in need."

Mac nods. "Ordinarily, she doesn't make a sound unless you count the sound of her toenails clicking against the hardwood as she walks but when she decides to, she's got quite the bark. She does it so infrequently that when she does, if she does it more than once, she raises an alarm. I've had neighbors come running simply because they heard this dog bark. Those that know her, know that when she does, something is wrong. The 82-year-old great grandfather who lives next door is tall and frail. He probably doesn't weigh 20 pounds more than I do. God forbid there was an intruder in the house; they could snap him like a twig. He's smart enough to know that too, but he's heard Candy bark twice in the last year and a ½ and both times he was here as quickly as could be. The rest of the time, he's unobtrusive; keeps to himself, but he'll come check on us if she barks."

Laura nods. "Mr. Whittenhour. He's funny. He calls me Butter Bean." She smiles. "Aunt Mac says he looks like a newspaperman."

"A newspaperman?"

Mac nods. "He's always well dressed. His clothes are always pressed; even when he tends to his plants. He almost always wears a tie, and suspenders, and wire-rim glasses that he fidgets with when he's uncomfortable or bored. He gets his hair cut every two weeks, and I swear I can picture him with a fedora pushed back on his brow, typing - hunt and peck style - on some antiquated Smith Corona with a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. Given half a chance, Laura will try to talk both his ears off. He never complains; just smiles and nods. Every time he sees her, he'll ask, "Wha'cha know that's worth knowing, Butter Bean? She never misses the opportunity to impart some knowledge."

Laura shrugs and grins happily. "That's 'cause he's nice to me. He never tells me I talk too much, or that I should be quiet. He answers my questions too. Sometimes he says 'You better ask your aunt about that one, but he never says go away. If I ask Mom too many questions, she says, 'Go clean your room." 'Specially if she doesn't know the answer. I hate that! Why can't she just say I don't know? Mr. Whittenhour does. Actually, he says, 'Well now, I don't rightly know about that.' Laura imitates the octogenarian; pausing to run her fingers through her hair as she's seen him do many times before. "I like that much better than 'Go clean your room!"

Trish tries to hide her smile behind her coffee cup, and Mac bites her lip to keep from grinning ear to ear as she moves Laura's empty plate from the kitchen bar to the sink and rinses it. Over her shoulder she asks, "Are you sure that's not just because you don't like cleaning your room?"

Laura shakes her head emphatically. "Na uh! I didn't even have to do it. She never checked. Not like you do Aunt Mac. She doesn't care if my room's clean. The rest of the house isn't. She only says that when she wants me to go away and leave her alone." Laura slowly and carefully slides off her bar stool; telling Trish, "I'll be back in a minute." She reaches for her dog's collar; getting a firm hold she says, "Come on, Candy. Gotta go brush."

Trish watches the girl cross the kitchen and enter the master bedroom as Mac calls out, "Make sure you knock before you go into the bathroom, please. "

"Okay," Laura replies merrily.

"Doesn't she have her own bathroom now?"

Chloe giggles curiously, and Mac nods her understanding of the reason for the question as she answers. "Yes, she does, but her toothbrush stays in our bathroom. She gets some sort of peculiar thrill out of standing at the sink beside Harm while he shaves. I don't understand it - I mean yeah, I know why I like it, but she's seven in two weeks. The reasons why I like it haven't even begun to enter her mind yet. Except for the fact that he's had to start getting partially dressed before he shaves, Harm doesn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he enjoys it. She'll walk in there and gently nudge him out of the way. Well, sometimes it's a nudge, other times it's more like a playful shove. She has to have a step stool. She's tall enough to reach the water faucet without it if she stands on tiptoe but that throws her off balance. She forces him to share the sink and the mirror. She invades his privacy, brushes her teeth; he shaves, and for some reason, it makes them both happy."

Chloe inquires. "Oh come on. Mac! Didn't you ever stand in the bathroom doorway and watch your dad shave when you were a kid?" Trish nods in agreement. "I did! It was fascinating."

Mac shakes her head adamantly; feeling mildly outnumbered. "God no! He was hung over most mornings. And he was mean as a dyspeptic rattlesnake even when he wasn't hung over. If I could help it, I didn't come out of my room until I heard his truck start."

Trish reaches across the bar and pats her daughter-in-law's hand affectionately. "Well, that sort of thing entertains a child Laura's age if they aren't afraid of the man who's doing it."

"I'll have to take your word for it." The marine pauses and it takes her a moment, but at length they watch a smile find its way to her lips. "She's not afraid of Harm." Mac breathes; talking more to herself than to them.

"Definitely not!" Trish declares as laughter bubbles out of Chloe.

Afraid of… more like in complete control of! I watched her the last time I was here. Marched right in there. Told him to scoot over. Didn't ask… Told… But she did do it with an adorable smile on her face, moved her step stool into place. Poor kid; even on her step stool her head barely comes to his chest. She climbed up there, grinned at him, and then deliberately elbowed him. Apparently, it wasn't the first time they've done this. He's used to it. I know he is because he didn't even nick himself. He just elbowed her back and went on with his shaving as if it was commonplace.

"Mac shrugs. "She's right. That's exactly how it happens Trish. But don't lament over her height too much, Chloe. She's gotten ½ an inch taller in the last two months."

Trish nods in agreement. "Next time she comes in here, really look at her, Chloe. Right now, she's still tiny but her legs are disproportionately long for her body. As she ages, they'll get longer. Eventually, her torso will stretch. Her grandmother, and her aunt - they're both taller than most women. And if I remember correctly, Mac, you told me that your sister is also quite tall?"

"Yes, she's taller than Mom, maybe even a ¼ inch taller than me. Laura's not going to be the exception. Her therapist commented on the disproportionate length of her legs when he measured her a few months ago for that new brace. After he sent the order in, I got a call from Freedom Orthotics when they were putting the thing together. They couldn't reach him one afternoon, so they tried me. They wanted to make sure the lengths listed hip to knee, and knee to ankle weren't an error. Charlie says that her growth has just been stunted by too much frozen pizza and chocolate milk - her mother's idea of a regular meal, as opposed to an occasional treat – but Harm does 90% of the cooking here. He feeds us well. " Mac chuckles conspiratorially. "Of course, when she finally does grow into those long legs of hers, when she stops being all knees, cute freckles, and teeth he's going to start having nightmares about teenage boys."

"Good! Serves him right for all the nightmares he gave me..." His mother announces with feeling. "Nightmares I only stopped having a few short years ago!"

"Who gave you nightmares?" Laura inquires from her perch on Harm's shoulder as he enters the kitchen with Laura's faithful companion at his side. He returns her to the bar stool where she previously sat and stoops to kiss his mother's cheek before buttoning up the dress shirt still open over his white undershirt.

"Your uncle did; that's who!" Trish smiles and does a silent appraisal of the girl's clothing; long sleeve white shirt with ladybugs embroidered on the collar, red denim jumper, red and white striped knee socks and bright red sneakers.

As though reading her mind, Mac removes a small light-weight jacket that is a shockingly vivid shade of lime green from its place, draped over the back of a bar stool, and hands it over to Trish.

"Even on that walker, she can get away from you, especially in a crowded area."Laura, you try not to wander away from Trish and Frank today. Stay with them, no matter how much fun the aquarium is." Returning her attention to Trish she says, "Even if she does get away from you, she's easy to spot in this jacket. If that doesn't work, Call Candy."

Upon hearing her name; the dog turns her gaze to Mac and waits expectantly.

She won't leave Laura and return to you alone in public. Tell her to …speak..." Mac pauses in the appropriate places to make sure that the dog understands the command within the flow of conversation.

Candy barks just once, but it's loud enough to mildly startle Trish in spite of the fact that she guessed it was coming.

"You'll find them," Mac says with pluck; concluding the demonstration.

"Goodness!" Trish reaches down and pats the dog's head. "Good girl. We don't have to worry about anybody snatching Laura with you around."

Mac shakes her head happily. "It's kind of neat to watch too. Even though that one bark wasn't meant to threaten anyone, it is enough to make strangers around her take at least one step back; which usually opens up a clear line of sight directly to Laura. On another note, Candy's license that verifies her status as a service dog is in the side pocket on her vest if you should need it for any reason. They cannot legally deny you entry to the aquarium with Candy, and in all likelihood, they won't, but it's there, just in case. The only places I routinely have problems entering are restaurants; particularly those managed by foreigners who are unaware of the laws regarding service companions. If you do have any trouble, usually just saying the words 'She's a service dog' is enough. If it's not, politely offer to call the police and have them come explain it. Even if they don't want to comply, mention of the police is usually all the persuasion you'll need." If you do stop for lunch, go anywhere you'd like, but if you go someplace where Laura and I are frequent visitors, keep an eye on the waitresses. Make sure they don't feed Candy when they think your back is turned. They adore her and attempt to spoil her."

"Can we go for pizza?" Laura inquires hopefully.

"We'll see. It's too early to think about lunch yet. You just ate breakfast."

Caught by surprise, Trish laughs when both Laura and Chloe say in perfect union, "It's never too early to think about pizza!"

"Are we leaving soon?" Laura changes the subject; eager for the day's adventures to begin. "Are there seals at the aquarium? Is there an octopus? Do they have sharks? Are there…"

"My goodness! Can I finish my cup of coffee before we change subjects again?"

Laura nods with vigor.

"Okay, thank you. Yes, there are seals. There is an octopus and a hippopotamus too. I don't know if there are sharks. We'll find out. I really want to go see that giant sea turtles."

Laura turns her attention to her aunt. "Can I have a pet turtle?"

Mac grins; teasing the girl. "Not if it's a giant sea turtle."

"Naa, just a little one. One I can keep in a fish tank?"

"I don't know. We'll have to think about it. You don't think Candy will eat a pet turtle; do you?"

Giggling; Laura shrugs." She's never tried to eat Liam's fat goldfish, Finley. She does sniff the bowl though, especially if Liam forgets to clean it like he's supposed to."

"You've got a birthday coming up?" Trish brushes hair out of the little girl's eyes. Anything special you want?"

Laura nods with enthusiasm. "I wanted a bike but Aunt Mac said we had to ask Charlie if that was okay first. Charlie said no. Not yet. He says it will be too hard for me but I would try anyway and make myself tired and get too many leg cramps. He said maybe next year. I asked if I could get one of those scooters that you stand on and it rolls by itself. He said no again. He said if I get one of those, I'll get lazy and stop walking and my leg will turn to jell-o. So, bummer, but no wheels! I wanna go camping instead. Real camping; not just pretend camping in the backyard. Charlie said that was okay, and Uncle Harm said yes! I want my own fishing pole, and I need a new sleeping bag too. Aunt Mac threw my old one away/"

Trish listens with delight. Ask a simple question and a whole story comes with the answer; chapter and verse. "I'm sure she had a good reason for throwing the old one away. We'll get you a new one, and I've haven't bought a fishing pole in years, but I'm sure we can figure it out."

"I want a pink one!" Laura bobs her chin emphatically. "Uncle Harm knows where to get it. We saw one at Academy. It even comes with a tackle box." She pauses to grin at her uncle and then lectures sweetly as he bites into a piece of toast. "Uncle Harm, you better hurry up! Miss Harriett can't be late for her doctor's appointment. You have to go get her."

"Hey, I've got time for a piece of toast. I might even put some scrambled eggs and cheese on top of it. Do you know where your bag is?"

Laura rolls her eyes. "It's right by the front door. Aunt Mac put it there last night. I'm ready. Your sleeve is not even buttoned."

Mildly surprised, Harm glances down to find that the cuff of one of his sleeves is indeed unbuttoned but before he can remedy the situation, Mac steps in close and squares him away, tending not only to his buttons, but straightening his collar as well before stealing a bite of toast from him with a flirtatious smile.

"Okay gang; the train's leaving in 60 seconds." She announces while using a hand to shield her mouth from view. "Laura, you have fun at the aquarium and be good today. We'll see you sometime after lunch. She kisses Harm's cheek brusquely. Chloe and I will see you at the hospital. Skates called, she and Jack are already on their way. Tell Harriett we said good morning." She snags her keys from the countertop and heads for the door; the rest of them following along behind her with all of the noisy excitement born of anticipation.

---

San Diego Fertility Clinic

As he passes the nurses' station in search of a waiting room a distracted Harm absent mindedly returns the smile of the raven-haired nurse with tired green eyes. He reads the signs posted beside doorways until he finds the one he thinks he wants.

"Looking for someone or someplace?" The nurse asks, familiar with the look of one who is lost. She leaves her post hoping to be of help.

With his hand on the knob, Harm peers into the waiting room through the etched glass panel in the door and smiles at what he sees. The one he seeks is inside the room perched on an uncomfortable looking chair. She holds her cell phone in her right hand and smiles happily at whatever is displayed on the screen.

Smiling more genuinely, he turns and waves the nurse off. "I found her."

He steps into the room and closes the door quietly behind him leaving the nurse to wander back to her swivel chair behind the counter. With mild disappointment, she mutters to herself "Why is it, guys like that are always looking for 'her'?"

The older, more seasoned, nurse at the station beside her chuckles and shakes her head. "Sweetie, you do understand this is a fertility clinic? People come in here looking to start a family which means more than 90% of the people here are part of a couple. Which means nearly every man in this building is looking for one 'her' or another.

The younger nurse shrugs. "Yeah I know, but a girl can dream. Can't she?"

"Dream all you like honey, but if you ever hope to do more than dream; I think you're going to have to expand your dating pool."

In the waiting room, Harm quietly settles into the chair beside his wife. Despite the fact that they are the only two in the room, or maybe because of it, he leans in close and whispers. "What are you so happy about?"

Mac shifts the position of her cell phone so he can join in on the fun. It doesn't take him long to determine that his mother must be responsible for taking the video that currently plays on the screen of her phone. On camera, he watches as Frank carefully lifts Laura off the floor. The small girl perches lightly against his shoulder. While he keeps a firm grip on her, the bright-eyed child lifts a large multicolored rubber beach ball high over her head and tosses it into an aquarium that is at least twice as big as their quaint living room.

Watching expectantly Harm grins when an enormous octopus that he wouldn't want to encounter in its natural habitat approaches the surface of the tank, coils a tentacle around the bobbing beach ball and hurls it back to its newest waiting playmate. Laura reaches for the ball, not quite able to catch it, but she squeals with delight anyway. Someone wearing khakis and a red polo shirt – Harm guesses that it is probably the standard uniform for an aquarium employee- trots after the foul ball and hands it back to Laura for the process to be repeated.

"Molly is our visiting North Pacific Giant Octopus. She weighs 108 pounds, and she's 9 feet long. She's young. Only about a year old, she might grow to weigh 150 pounds and be as much as 15 feet long. She likes to play catch. She likes to put on a show for kids, and it gives her some exercise too. She came here because she was sick and she needed some help to get well. She's feeling better and is scheduled to be released next month."

Laura hurls the ball once again and waits for its return as she eyes their host curiously. "Released? Released where?"

"Back to the ocean. It'll be good for her. An octopus her size shouldn't be kept in a tank long term; not even one this big. She needs to be free. She prefers to live about 200 feet below the water's surface, but her species of octopi are highly adaptable. So she can get used to, or at least tolerate, change for a while."

Laura watches the octopus swim slowly toward the bobbing ball on water's surface and nods solemnly. "It's no fun being trapped someplace you don't like. If she's well, you should let her go. If she has a family, they probably miss her."

"Octopi are solitary creatures. They prefer to be alone. Usually only coming into contact with another when they mate. They die shortly after their eggs hatch. If Molly ever has the chance she'll produce nearly 100,000 eggs, and only about 1000 of them will hatch and even less will reach maturity."

"Huh? What does that mean?" You mean grow up? Get big?"

"Yep. That's what that means. Other ocean animals like to eat baby octopi, so a lot of them don't get to grow up. Molly likes to eat shrimp, fish, clams, crabs and even some small species of shark."

Laura's eyes stretch wide. Distracted, she giggles when the returned beach ball smacks her lightly on the shoulder. Ignoring the ball, she stares into the aquarium in wonder. "She eats sharks!"

The aquarium employee laughs and gestures with her hands before bending and retrieving the ball once more." Yeah; but only little ones. The bigger ones will eat her if they get the chance. She's better at hiding than they are at seeking."

Laura nods with enthusiasm. "Okay." She takes the offered ball and hurls it high overhead one last time. "What's next! Grandma wants to see the big sea turtles. Bye-bye Molly. I hope you get to go home soon!"

The video ends and Mac drops her phone into the designated pocket of her handbag before lacing her fingers through Harm's "She's having a blast!"

He nods and grins. "Let's wait awhile and then take her back. Go with her."

"We should. If this all goes the way we want it to, a little bit of one-on-one time with her might be good. We should get it while we can."

He nods again. "Where is everybody?"

"Harriet and Chloe have already been examined and gone through the personal stuff. They took Jack downstairs to the snack bar to distract him. Skates is in with the doctor now. He was okay here until she went in. Then he got anxious, or he already was and she's just good at keeping him in line. After she went in, He got bored and started asking wild questions about pictures in a magazine about in vitro fertilization. We decided to get him out of here before he had the chance to make any other patients uncomfortable. When they are finished with Skates, we'll have a sort of group question and answer period. I'm okay doing it by myself if need be. You might want to take Jack away from here. We'll wait and see. He might want to stay, especially since Skates might be involved. They like to act like this thing between them is just casual, but I have a feeling that tide may be shifting."

Harm tilts his head thoughtfully before he continues with their quiet conversation. "I didn't see this one coming, but I think you may be right. Doctor see you already?"

Mac nods.

"How'd that go?"

"Like it always does. I'd rather be out on a date alone with Jack the Ripper's little brother. But at least there were no surprises. Nothing's better, nothing's worse. How did yours go?"

He shrugs and she senses his discomfort. "Okay, I guess. No immediate red flags. I wasn't expecting all the questions though."

"Questions? Which questions?" She smiles and touches his face affectionately; fairly certain she knows the answer.

"I'm not exactly sure why they need to know so much about our sex life." He breathes quietly. "Why do they need to know about our habits?"

"They need to know who they're dealing with for our best chance at success. You do realize that once they put me on medication and hormones, prior to egg harvesting, they're going to tell us to stop having sex?"

She watches him squint for a long moment and then he throws back his head and laughs at the irony of it all. "Seems a bit counterproductive. Certainly not in line with what I was taught."

She gently nudges his bicep with her shoulder. "I know. But they'll be trying to achieve a delicate hormonal balance prior to the extraction. If you and I don't stop, at least for awhile, we'll mess that up. They're going to pump me full of hormones that may very well increase my libido and then expect us to behave." She whispers and steals a light kiss.

His laughter dissolves into a groan. "So what you're saying is, this is going to be torture."

Her dark eyes are warm when she nods." I'm pretty sure it will be, but whoever we choose, after we know the transplant was successful we can send Laura to spend the weekend with your parents or maybe with Liam. Have a little getaway, or maybe just stay home. Whichever we choose, clothing will be optional."

For a moment he leans back, staring up at the ceiling. "Think maybe we can do that before you start taking those hormones too."

She smiled seductively. "I have no objection to that counselor, but we'll have to figure out the timing. Thanksgiving is six days away. And Laura's birthday is less than two weeks away. You promised to take her camping. Whoever we choose for surrogacy, Dr. Thayer will want to start prepping me soon after the holiday. By New Year's maybe we can do the harvesting closely followed by the transplant. By Valentine's Day we could be expecting some good news; maybe pencil in that second getaway for two."

Harm smiles in anticipation.

"This is all tentative, of course. Subject to change. "

He squeezes her hand. "I know, but let's pencil it in anyway."

Mac nods as the door to the waiting room opens. Elizabeth Hawkes walks in closely followed by her doctor; who pauses in the doorway, the two of them in the middle of a conversation. "Take a break. Go stretch your legs. Get a cup of coffee while I talk to the captain and the colonel together. Half an hour and then come back. Bring the others with you if you can. We'll have a little group chat so that everybody can ask questions, express concerns, and/or get a general idea of expectations and responsibilities regarding what happens next."

Mac raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry as she and Harm come to their feet and Skates anticipates her unasked question before turning to shake the doctor's hand. "A lot easier than I thought it would be." She tells Mac. "Not what I would call a piece of cake; but not difficult either." She offers Harm a hopeful smile. "I'm going to go find the others. Hopefully, Keeter hasn't embarrassed either one of them too badly yet."

Harm chuckles. It's a safe bet that he's either embarrassing them or flirting with them."

"Possibly both at the same time." Mac jokes as she and Harm fall into step with her doctor; the two of them still hand in hand.

---

"Doctor?"

Their escort with short spiky blond hair turns and smiles at her nurse. "Yes, Marisol?"

"A moment please?"

She opens her office door for the couple with her and waves them in. "Go on in. I'll be right with you." As she closes the door behind them. Mac takes one of the guest chairs and Harm slowly prowls the small space aimlessly.

Mac idly fingers the filigree pendant on the gold chain around her neck and smiles at him as she straightens the necklace; returning the clasp to the back of her neck. "Relax Flyboy. The physical exams are over for the day. She won't be gone long."

"What's she doing?"

Mac shrugs. "She's probably tending to another patient, or maybe glancing at some test results. She's blocked out 2/3 her day on her calendar for us. We can give her a moment or two."

"How do you know that?"

The marine scoots forward slightly in her seat and points to the desk pad counter on the desk before her and the square indicating the day's date. Two-thirds of the square is filled with a single unmistakable word written in a cursive flourish. "Rabb"

She realizes he's more anxious than uncomfortable and she takes his hand when he moves to stand near for his own examination of the calendar.

He looks down at her with a grin and raises an eyebrow "You read upside down?"

She smirks and teases affectionately. "I know it's a skill that not everyone is adept at, but I would think you could recognize your own name; backward, forward, upside down… and even inside out." She adds with just a touch of sass.

He perches on the arm of the seat next to hers and asks, "How exactly do you turn Rabb inside out?

She purses her lips and mulls this over for a second before answering with a quiet smile "Take away his gold wings?"

"You're in a good mood. I expected you to be the one who was on pins and needles today."

"I've wanted to do this for years. I even thought about doing it without you, but everything in me screamed 'no.' Besides, you keep telling me it'll all work out somehow. Either I believe in you or I don't; and if I don't, then how did we get here?"

He searches her face and despite her lighthearted mood, he sees the faint traces of strain. The dark circles under her eyes courtesy of a restless night may be hidden from view by carefully applied makeup, but he still knows they're there.

He pats her knee affectionately before he rises to his feet, looking for something to distract the both of them. A quiet knock signals the doctor's return as he points to a life-sized anatomy model in the corner of the office. "Talk about inside out!" He grins crossing the small, but well appointed, room in three easy steps. "It looks like it comes apart… Like a puzzle."

Aware of what's about to happen, Mac warns "Harm don't." But she's too late. When he attempts to remove the replica of an unborn child from the center its plastic womb; several other synthetic organs fall out of the three-dimensional puzzle and land at his feet.

While he looks mildly embarrassed, Mac glances at the doctor apologetically and sees the telltale hint of a smile. It's not the first time this has happened in her office so the marine rises to her feet and steps to her husband's side where she examines the puzzle piece still in his hand. In spite of the fact that it isn't obvious by looking, she proclaims, "Congratulations Dad! It's a boy! But you've just disemboweled Mommy." She kneels, picks up the assortment of organs, rises once more, and begins putting them back into place. She pauses occasionally to turn a piece this way or that, finding just the right fit, as she continues to tease. "Poor baby boy! I'm sorry but Daddy got his medical license from a box of Cracker Jack."

The doctor chuckles comically while Harm rolls his eyes and Mac takes the baby from him and tucks the little one back into place. Finished, she takes Harm by the hand once more and returns to their seats as the doctor glances at her handiwork.

"That's pretty impressive. Most of my patients, or their husbands, have found it rather easy to take that model apart and nearly impossible to put it back together."

Mac shrugs. "It's been about 30 years since I played with Anatomy Jane, but I'm pretty good with spatial concepts."

"Anatomy Jane?" Harm squints.

"She's a doll similar to a Barbie doll. But her torso and abdominal cavity open up. She's meant to teach young girls to properly identify and locate the body's organs."

The doctor comments, "I don't remember Anatomy Jane being pregnant."

"Oh, she wasn't, but my memory of high school biology did help some; even though it too was a while ago. That, and there are a limited number of ways that all those pieces will fit back in there. Still, I'll admit I got a little confused with the liver and pancreas. I guessed."

"Good guess." the doctor perches on, and wraps her fingers around, the edge of her desk. "Let's talk Operation Stork, shall we?

Mac chuckles and offers a soft but adamant 'yes' as Harm silently squeezes her hand and nods eagerly.

"First, I have to compliment the two of you on your choices for candidates for surrogacy. They're all intelligent, capable, confident women. Each of them is healthy and genuinely wants to help you grow your family. I have heard each of them ask perfectly normal questions and express perfectly normal concerns under the circumstances. Not one of them has any overwhelming doubts about this."

She pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts and to prepare them for what comes next.

"The only one I'm going to veto is Chloe… And the only reasons for that are her age and lack of experience; which will come with time. If the two of you decide you want to try this again in… let's say five years, and if she still wants to help, bring her back. She's healthy. She's devoted to you. She'll take care of herself and any child she carries; be it hers or yours. In five years time she will be suitable; just not now."

The doctor studies the faces of the couple before her. He simply looks relieved while her patient wears a look that is an odd mixture of uncertainty and relief. "Problem Sarah?"

"Just a little one. For now, can we please just focus on what we're doing this time? I'm not even ready to think about, much less talk about, the possibility of a next time. I can't think about what we might or might not be doing five years from now. I want kids, but I don't want so many that I don't have enough time to give each one of them the time or attention they deserve. And I still want to have time for myself, and time for him." She smiles at Harm. "Laura does have, and will continue to have, needs that most other children won't have, and we've already talked about obtaining custody of her. Also, I hate to even say this out loud. It would be horrible, but God forbid anything does happen to Bud and Harriett at the same time, all four of their children would be living with us…"

Harm inhales deeply. "I didn't even think about that."

When the doctor raises an inquiring eyebrow, he says, "We're godparents to their four children. She's right. If for any reason, they are both unable to care for their children, it becomes our responsibility. It's unlikely, but not impossible."

He pauses to grin at Mac. "We're going to need a bigger house if that happens… a lot bigger."

She pats his thigh with her free hand. "It's taken care of."

"Oh, is it?"

"Harriet says it will be bad enough losing both parents. She would at least like them to be able to stay in their home if they can. If she and Bud are gone tomorrow, we get the house. If we can't stay in DC, which would be likely given our careers, then at least we can sell the house and use the money for the kids." Mac turns her full attention back to Rebecca Thayer. Also, with a procedure like this one, if it works, there is an increased chance of multiple births; right?"

"There is, yes."

"I know it's extremely rare, but I've read about couples that give birth to large numbers of children… Five, six, seven at a time. I really don't want that."

"I'm glad to hear it. As a medical professional, I'm not supposed to have an opinion. However, in the exceedingly uncommon event that does happen, I have watched husbands and wives struggle horrendously just trying to manage ordinary day to day life. Appropriate time for each child, not to mention time for themselves, or for their marriage, goes out the window. I know it's their choice, and it should be, but when you've got that many children who are all the same age I don't think you're really raising them. I think it's more like warehousing them. Then again," she smiles in a self-deprecating way. "I'm not exactly an expert. I only have the one. He's 14, and he keeps me plenty busy all by himself. But, I've digressed, back to the two of you. The greater the number of births, the more danger your surrogate is going to be in, and even if she carries to term, the more health complications your children are going to have. Even a set of twins -just two babies - have a greater risk of low birth weight, which can cause a very long list of medical problems. Five children or more, and you'll never stop paying medical bills. Most parents are willing to accept an unhealthy child once the child is born, but, no one starts this process wanting an unhealthy child. Thankfully, multiple births in high numbers are rare. No one likes to talk about it, but if it does happen, there are options. None of them are pleasant. So I suggest we avoid talking about them unless we have to. You're going to have enough to focus on even if that doesn't happen."

Harm nods as Mac picks up the thread of her thoughts once more. "We're okay with Chloe's not being an ideal candidate right now. I didn't want to tell her no when she offered for fear that I might hurt her. We didn't really mean to put you in the hot seat. It's just…"

"Oh no! Please, by all means, put me in the hot seat!" She grins with enthusiasm. "I'm perfectly willing to take point on this. No is always easier to hear coming from a stranger than from one you love. This happens more often than you might think. A couple like yourselves wants a child and some family member who may not be entirely appropriate for the task volunteers. They say no themselves, and it causes a rift in the fabric of their family that can last for years. You should know, her head isn't stuck in the sand about this. We've already talked about it. She's aware she's not a good match… for now. She seems disappointed, but not terribly. I think what she really wants most is just to be supportive. She joked about leaving Vermont and moving closer just so you two would have a babysitter at your beck and call regardless of who you choose as your surrogate. I wouldn't put it past her. She's delightfully headstrong."

Mac nods in quiet but eager agreement as Harm chuckles. "You don't know the half of it Doc! All the females in my life are forces of nature; even the pixie-sized six-year-old who's about to be seven and letting everybody know it. They all seem to be drawn to me for some reason."

The spirited physician across from him smiles and challenges," Ever think maybe it's you who is drawn to them?"

Mac gives him a wide-eyed smile as he answers with his usual charm and honestly "Without a doubt."

"Okay, Sarah's fine. She's good to start treatment as soon as we get the last of your test results back Harm. From what I've seen, I don't anticipate any problems. Your physical checks out so far. Additionally, we'll check sperm count and motility. It'll take a few days to get those results back. Assuming all goes well; Sarah can begin treatment- let's say some time shortly after Thanksgiving. The last time we talked. Harriett was your top choice. Is that still the case?"

"Yes." Mac answers immediately then pauses to look at Harm; giving him a chance to weigh in. He wastes no time nodding his consent before she continues. "If Skates gets PCS'd from Germany like she wants, she may be more convenient location wise, but in spite of the obvious obstacles, we're still confident that Harriett is the best choice for us."

"Okay, so as long as all goes well Harriet's your choice. Let's take a minute and talk about how you're going to handle the geographical distance between your families. Your jobs require you to be here. Her life requires her to be there. If she does become pregnant… Then what?"

"She will spend as much time as possible at home in DC and we'll rack up as many frequent flyer miles as we can spending time with her. Although we want to, we don't need to watch her every moment. That's just one thing that makes her our best choice. Our baby will be safe with her. We know that. There's e-mail, and all kinds of video chat services. We'll still be a part of pregnancy… As much as possible." Harm answers.

"I'm assuming you'll both want to be present for the birth?"

"Yes!" The answer comes in two-part harmony.

The doctor nods smiling. "We're getting a little ahead of ourselves, but how do you want to handle that? She won't be permitted to fly for most of her final trimester. Do you intend to fly her here before she's grounded?"

"No. We can't ask her to spend more than two months here with us. She has her own life, her own responsibilities. We can't take that much time off work either or pull Laura out of school for that long. We're just going to hope for the best, hope this child arrives somewhere close to its due date. If not, we'll get on a plane as soon as Bud calls, and pray we make it in time. Whenever her due date is, I think we'll fly out the week of; assuming no complications before then. If possible, we would like to arrive in DC a few days before she goes into labor. This is the one part about choosing Harriett that Harm and I don't like, but there's just no way around it. It's about a 5-hour flight, but all of Harriet's labors have been considerably longer than that… Well except for A.J. Our oldest godson was in a hurry to get here…" Mac smiles at the memory.

"And he hasn't slowed down yet!" Harm adds proudly. "I think that boy ran before he walked."

"Assuming the pregnancy progresses normally and without incident. There is the option to induce labor at a specific time." Mac begins shaking her head vehemently before the doctor finishes. "That may make things easier for the two of you."

"No, absolutely not!"

The unexpected force with which his wife speaks mildly startles Harm. They haven't even talked about this yet. Surprised, he watches mutely as she continues a bit more quietly, because she hadn't meant to speak so loudly, but still with the fiery glint of passion in her eyes.

"Not unless there is a medical reason to do so. You'll have a fight on your hands from both me and Harriett! I will only allow it if Harriet or the baby is in trouble. She changed doctors midway through her pregnancy with Jimmy because she fell like her obstetrician was pushing her to induce. She heard rumors from other patients that he induced all his expectant mothers on Wednesdays. My guess is, it was either convenient for the hospital, or he had a golf game or something else he didn't want to risk missing on Thursdays or Fridays. I won't do it! I know that labor is triggered by a hormone release, but no one seems to know exactly what triggers that hormone release or why it happens when it does. Harriett says babies come when they're ready to, and as long as there's not a valid medical reason to interfere with that; we shouldn't. She has four healthy, beautiful, happy children. She's obviously done something right, and I'm completely comfortable trusting her judgment on this; especially after what happened last year. One of the women in my office actually had her labor induced for the sake of convenience. Only it turned out that her due date was miscalculated. As soon as her daughter was born the doctor looked at her, smiled, and said, "Well it looks like she could've stayed in there another six weeks." Mac shakes her head adamantly once again. "That's not going to happen to my baby; not if I have anything to say about it!"

Her doctor smiles. "You do have something to say about it. Apparently, you have plenty to say about it, and that's your right."

"Harriett's right, there are just some things we shouldn't mess with!"

"So, we won't. We won't induce without cause. I'm not a fan of it myself. I just wanted to make you aware of the option. Does that mean a pre-planned cesarean is also out of the question?

Mac starts to speak, then squints and stops. "My knee-jerk reaction is yes. I don't have a medical degree, but to me, a cesarean without cause doesn't sound any better than inducing for the sake of convenience. However, maybe Harriett should have some say in that. I'm pretty sure she'll agree with me, but I'd rather ask just to be on the safe side. It is her body."

Dr. Thayer nods. "Some women do schedule them because they think it makes labor and delivery easier on them. While it's less painful, thanks to anesthesia, I don't believe it's easier. Not for the baby, or for the one delivering the baby. The recovery time for a cesarean is considerably longer than the recovery time for a vaginal birth.

"I know Harriett pretty well. She didn't plan a cesarean with any of her children. I don't think she will. I'd still like to ask her though."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Or at least the beginning of one." Mac smiles when Harm lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"Let's go meet with the three of them in a group setting. Chloe asked to sit in even though she knows she's no longer a candidate. Give them all the chance to ask questions and to voice concerns before you make your choice officially known. I've had intended parents make a decision in here with me and then change their minds after a group meeting. I don't foresee that happening in your case, but these types of meetings are helpful because oftentimes one woman isn't comfortable asking a question she needs an answer to but another person is completely comfortable asking. You can ask questions too, either of the group as a whole or of an individual person. Also, no matter who asks, sometimes an unexpected question can lead to a whole new line of questioning. It's usually helpful for everyone involved. We have a conference room down the hall that will be more comfortable for the group than my postage stamp of an office. She grins at her own joke as they rise and she ushers them to the door.

---

Author's note: I have a confession to make. I don't recall very many details about the births of Bud and Harriet's three youngest children. I don't feel like surfing through years of video to refresh my memory so when you come to the appropriate part of this chapter, please be advised, It's all true. I know this for a certainty because I made it up myself!

---

Bud Roberts drops the kind of small paper cup that one finds in a hospital cafeteria into an insulating cardboard sleeve and then pours black coffee into it. He tears open two packets of sweetener and dumps them in before grabbing a swizzle stick intent on returning to the meeting area across the room with its wide semicircle of chairs. As he turns he inadvertently kicks the table leg with his prosthetic limb and knocks himself off balance. Before catastrophe can ensue, a small but strong shoulder is there to render aid; tucked under his arm just when he needs it most. He turns his head, expecting to see his wife's blue eyes smiling back at him. Instead, he's pleasantly surprised to find a brunette friend, one who is obviously pleased to see him, at his side.

"Steady Sailor." Mac breathes quietly and smiles at him. She skillfully camouflages the moment by hugging him in greeting; knowing that rare occurrences like this one are uncomfortable for him; especially if someone calls attention to them.

All he needs to right himself is a second and as soon as she senses that he is indeed steady again, she releases him and selects a cup for her own. Desperately wanting coffee for herself; she tears open a packet containing an herbal tea blend and adds hot water from a nearby carafe.

"Impeccable timing as always, Colonel." He whispers; smiling with gratitude.

She stretches her dark eyes wide and shrugs in an 'it's nothing' gesture. "Glad you made it, Bud. I heard there was some problem with your baby sitter's arrival?"

Still smiling, Bud nods and glances down at the cup in her hand with mild confusion. "Not your usual octane?"

As they talk, he offers her his arm and escorts her across the room.

"I have to give up marine-grade sludge for awhile… at least until we know for sure that Baby Rabb is on his or her way."

"Harriett always cut down on caffeine when she was expecting, but it never occurred to me that you might have to; not under these circumstances."

She nods, sips her weak tea, and frowns in disgust. "Caffeine ramps up the body's startle responses; makes us all more edgy. The heart beats faster, the blood pressure increases. The doctor says it will have an effect on my egg harvesting. I'm really just supposed to cut back seriously until after, but I think I'll wait until after we know a baby is coming. That way if they need to harvest more, they won't have to wait for me to get through caffeine withdrawal again. I'm trying to survive on only two small cups a day now; one first thing in the morning and one after dinner. Before I start the hormone therapy meant to increase egg production, I'm going to try to quit completely."

"How's it going?"

'Bad Bud, bad! Yesterday I yelled at Laura for blowing bubbles in her milk. And kissed Harm for no reason other than the fact that he tasted like coffee. Feels an awful lot like drying out did; minus the vomiting and hallucinations.

"Hallucinations?"

The grim look on her face belies her words "Oh yeah, fun stuff!"

"Somehow I doubt that." He says with quiet sympathy.

"Laura's going to run away from home and Harm is going to divorce me before this is over!"

"Not a chance!" He chuckles quietly. "Laura has experienced far worse than just being yelled at. She's tougher than Mighty Mouse! As for Harm, he's pretty thick-skinned, and take it from me, no man minds being kissed; whatever the reason." He gives her arm a friendly pat and says conspiratorially, "There are times he might mind who's doing the kissing, but I think we both know that's never been a problem for the two of you."

"Thanks, Bud!" She laughs; feeling less insecure. "What was the problem with the babysitter?"

"Harriett's parents were coming into town. They've been on vacation somewhere. I forget where. Forgive me but, Harriett's mother prattles on endlessly. Sometimes I just can't listen anymore."

Mac giggles quietly and squeezes his arm. "Wild horses won't drag it from me."

"Their flight was supposed to arrive well before ours left… obviously, but the flight was delayed. They wound up stuck on an overnight layover in Kentucky. I wanted to be here, but sent Harriett on without me. Thankfully, they arrived in time for me to catch a later flight."

"Kentucky?"

Bud's round jovial face is alight with mirth when he whispers. "I don't think Mrs. Simms has ever been there before. I don't think she cared at all for the people or the locale."

Mac nods and whispers, "Not quite up to her standard?"

"Definitely not."

"Look at you two with your heads together." Harriett greets them warmly as they take seats on either side of her. "What are you whispering about?"

"A couple of different things Harriett. How unpleasant I am without coffee; and culture shock." Mac says lightly.

Harriett chuckles knowingly. "Bud has been telling you how much my mother loved Kentucky." She concludes with certainty. "Where's Harm?"

"He'll be here shortly. He went to find a men's room, and after that, he'll track down the rest of our group."

As Chloe joins them, taking the empty seat on Mac's other side and folding one leg beneath herself, the marine asks, "How are you? Are you okay?"

Chloe nods eagerly with only the faintest trace of disappointment in her warm eyes. "You told me it would probably go this way. It's okay. I'll find some other way to help out. You and Harm care if I stay for the meeting?"

Mac shakes her head and squeezes the girl's shoulders before resting their foreheads together. "You're more than welcome here."

They embrace one another until Mac looks up when the doctor enters the room. "Rebecca, do you want one of the chairs in the center of the arc?"

"No, I'll stand. The two middle seats belong to you and Harm. We're all here for you. You two are calling the shots. I'm just here to facilitate." The blonde in her royal purple scrubs and walking shoes that are an electric shade of blue chooses, instead, to lean casually against the outermost wall of the room; resting lightly against the wide window seal and crossing her feet at the ankles.

She observes their friendly chatter for a few moments unobtrusively; getting a feel for the group dynamic. She watches them all talk like old familiar friends. Often their words overlapping or their sentences going unfinished because they understand each other well and they've shared many of the same experiences so that frequently there is no need for any one of them to fully verbalize a thought for comprehension to be complete. She watches the women control the flow of conversation and pretty much everything else too. She watches as Harriett helps herself to the coffee cup in her husband's hand and takes a small sip without comment before returning it to the same place. They're talking happily about the antics of their various young children when the door opens again and Elizabeth Hawkes is preceded by her sandy-haired companion who pauses and turns back to hold the door open for her. The both of them are closely followed by Harm.

Not for the first time, the doctor is struck not only by the height of these two appealing men but also by the graceful, yet formal, posture of all of them; with the exception of perhaps young Chloe. However, despite her youthful and relaxed carefree way, even she has picked up a small but noticeable trace of their magnetic bearing and made it her own.

It must be the 'military' in them the doctor muses in silent appreciation. Even out of uniform the indelible fingerprints of order and discipline are unmistakable.

"Okay." She leaves the window seal and remains standing, but rests one knee in the seat of the chair at the end of the arc nearest her as Chloe gets up without comment and moves to the opposite end of the group; effectively vacating her own seat so that the Navy captain can sit next to his wife. "Who wants a start the ball rolling?" The doctor raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

Harm clears his throat. "I guess first, Mac and I want to say thank you. We never expected you're showing up here today to happen this simply. You have each stepped up and gotten us here to this point so much more quickly and easily than we thought possible. We're touched and grateful beyond words. Please, feel free to ask anything." He makes eye contact with each of them and, as is usual in group settings, there's a hesitant momentary silence. No one wants to be the first to voice a concern.

When it becomes clear that no one else is going to leap first, Bud jumps in with a chuckle. "I guess this really isn't a question, but our two oldest have asked us to deliver a couple of messages. Aware of what he's about to say, Harriet giggles quietly as Bud continues. "A.J. wants a pretty girl cousin; one that looks like Aunt Mac, to which Jimmy replied, 'Hey birdbrain, we already have one of those. Her name is Laura!' After which, he vetoed the notion of a girl cousin. Jimmy wants a boy cousin. We tried to tell them it is likely that one of them is going to be disappointed, but somehow they're both confident that they'll each get their own way." He pauses for a moment as several of his friends chuckle in response. "Seriously though, that does lead me to a question. We told them we were coming here to help you guys plan for a baby. However, we have yet to try to explain surrogacy to them. Ten years from now, I don't think the twins will remember this at all. Jimmy might, and A.J. definitely will. How are we supposed to explain this to them; especially if it's Harriett who carries this child?"

Harriett pats his knee. "Honey, we'll just tell them the truth."

Bud squints at his wife incredulously. "You wanna tell our boys that doctors are gonna mix Uncle Harm and Aunt Mac's baby up in a Petri dish and then put it inside you until it's ready to be born? Don't you think they might find that a little confusing?"

Smiling, Mac shakes her head and says gently, "I don't think so. Bud. You're over thinking this. That's pretty much the way we explained it to Laura. Well, first we explained to her that I couldn't carry the baby myself, and then we followed up with the rest. She wasn't confused. Amazed maybe, but not confused. We were worried about that too. She thought about it for all of five seconds and then shrugged and informed us that it sounded like a science experiment. Your kids are smart. If you're okay with it, they will be too. Since we've already been there and done that, my best advice is, try not to be too scientific about it; unless they specifically ask for the complicated details. Don't use big words, but at the same time, don't dumb it down either. Just talk to them. If that doesn't work, we'll let Laura talk to them."

Harriett nods. "Not a bad idea. Kids have their own language. They explain things to each other… understand each other, on a level that adults just can't hit anymore. But, I really think they'll be fine, like you said, as long as we are."

The doctor speaks up again. "We have literature about how to do just that… explain this to your young children if you really want it Commander Roberts, but the ladies have the right idea. Just tell them. Answer their questions, but don't give them more information than they're ready for. It's your choice, of course, but I don't believe kids ask questions they're not ready to hear the answers to, and if I may say so myself, Laura's right. It is a science experiment. Just a few short years ago, that's all it was."

"Kids are more malleable than adults. It seems most of them aren't set in their ways of thinking." Skates weighs in. "Any suggestions on how to explain this to an adult who isn't receptive?. My elderly aunt thinks it's beautiful. My mother… not so much. She thinks it's a weird, and unnatural. She thinks my willingness to be involved in this is just bizarre. In her mind, it's too big of a sacrifice. I can't seem to find a way to alter her thinking. She has a loose understanding of how. She just doesn't understand why I want to, or why anyone would want to. She thinks we're messing with Mother Nature."

Harm and Mac both squint and turn to the doctor, at a loss for how to best advise their friend. The doctor nods. This is something she's heard frequently in recent years.

"None of the thoughts you mentioned are uncommon. Your elderly aunt thinks it's beautiful, most likely because she understands the value of having a child. However, it's usually the elderly that have the most trouble comprehending or supporting something like this. May I ask; does she have any children of her own?"

Skates shakes her head. "She and my uncle were never able, and when they were young enough, something like this wasn't possible. They took in every stray kid in the neighborhood. I'm sure they wanted their own. I think I was theirs by default."

Rebecca Thayer offers her a soft smile of understanding."I can give you some literature as well, but if your mother is truly closed off to the idea, there isn't much you'll do or say to change her mind. Some people are just against it. I suggest you ask your aunt to try and explain it to your mother. If she can't explain the desire to have a child through whatever means possible to your mother, my guess is no one ever will. Try telling her though that we aren't messing with Mother Nature. We're simply giving her a helping hand. I'm not in the business of trying to make designer babies. While some medical scientists are working to find ways to ensure that unborn children are either male or female, blue-eyed or red-headed, artistic or athletic; that is one giant step too far for me. I personally do think that is messing with Mother Nature. That's not what Harm and Mac are asking us for, and if they were, I wouldn't help them. They simply want their child. This less than conventional method may give them that child. Ultimately, if that child is born, how it happens will cease to matter to your mother. The desire for a child is one of the most natural human desires there is. There's nothing bizarre about it. I'll also suggest to you that if you can't change her mind, and you do carry a child for Harm and Sarah, you not try to include your mother in your support system. You'll have enough to contend with without that kind of negative interference. I'm not saying cut her out of your life; I'm saying don't go looking to her when you find yourself in need of support, understanding, or sympathy."

Mac chuckles wryly. "I just realized, I haven't even talked to my own mother about this. She knows absolutely nothing about it because, pregnant or not, she's not a part of my support system. Her name doesn't even make the bottom of the list of the people that I turn to for support. I have no idea how she's going to feel about this."

The doctor shrugs. "So tell her. Give her a chance to express what she thinks or how she feels, just realize that however she thinks or feels, that's about her and not about you. You're doing this for yourselves, not because you're seeking anyone's approval. The same goes for your surrogate. Ladies, if you're offering to do this because you're seeking someone's approval, and I don't think anyone here is, but if you are, then you need to do both Harm and Sarah a favor and graciously bow out right now."

The room is quiet for a few long seconds until Jack Keeter takes a long look around, and then offers "Doesn't look like anybody's leaving, Doc."

"I didn't expect anybody would. It's just the standard warning I issue to all potential surrogates."

"Bud chimes in again. "How, if in any way, should we expect a surrogate pregnancy to be different than one started in… uh… the usual way."

"Once the pregnancy is safely underway, there isn't much difference. In the beginning, until we're sure the pregnancy is stable; a surrogate will take medication to help her foster the pregnancy. Because we're using Mac's eggs, the eggs themselves will be foreign to the surrogate's body. Without medication, her immune system will aggressively attack the fertilized eggs we transplant. Because this medication is a mild immuno-suppressive drug it'll be even more important that she remains healthy. We don't like for any expectant mother to come down with a cold, much less anything worse. With surrogates, we take extra preventative measures. They'll take the standard prenatal vitamins and Folic acid. We'll also load them up with extra vitamin C and other natural immune system boosters that won't harm the baby. We'll ask for you do your best to avoid prolonged exposure to harsh weather. We'll encourage literally excessive hand washing and frequent disinfecting of all household high traffic areas. Once we're certain the pregnancy is stable, we may stop the medication or, more likely, we will lower the dosage significantly because by suppressing the surrogate's immune system we're also endangering the child. The goal is to achieve a delicate balance and keep both the child and the surrogate as healthy as possible. Beyond that, and barring complications, the pregnancy will progress naturally. The most significant difference, by far, will be how the pregnancy starts; not the pregnancy itself. You and Harriett have been through four of them already. You're old hands at this. Once you get past the first two or three months, it's going to all feel eerily familiar."

"I'm not an old hand at this," Skates says honestly. "And no offense, but neither are you, Mac." She smiles in mild relief when Mac nods unoffended by her candor. Harriett, if I'm the one who does this, can I call you… a lot? Will that be okay?"

Both Harriett and Mac nod vigorously, and laughter bubbles out of Harriet. "Call me all you like! I'm going to be calling you too; making sure everything is okay."

"Good! I found out yesterday the Navy is going to PCS me. So I'll be here. I will be available, and I do want to do this if you need me to. I just don't want to do it by myself." She laughs, mildly and pleasantly startled, when the words, "You won't." come from all directions at once.

"We still feel that Harriett will be our best option, Beth." Harm admits gently. "But I'm glad you'll be here. We're proud to have all of you here and we may need you. No matter which of you does this for us, you're not going to face this pregnancy alone. Mac and I are going to be as involved as it is humanly possible to be. We'll support this pregnancy, both financially, and emotionally. We'll visit. We'll answer the phone no matter what time of day or night you call. We'll be there if there are complications. We'll be there if there are no complications. We'll attend both the transplant and the birth. You'll be sick of us before it's over." He flashes his customary grin.

Suddenly curious, and unable to curb that inquisitiveness, Keeter asks, "How long does this transplant take, and how complicated is it?"

"It's an outpatient procedure." The doctor supplies, "And it will take less than 30 minutes; usually closer to 15 or 20."

"Is that all?"

"That's all. The transplant itself is relatively simple. I'll be there with one nurse. Harm and Mac will be there, and one other person of the surrogate's choosing is allowed. It's really not that much different from an insemination; with the exception of a little more medical equipment." She smiles. The part that requires painstaking precision will be the egg harvesting and the fertilization. Both of these are things that the surrogate won't need to be present for."

Keeter shakes his head and grins. "Six people in the room to conceive a child… kind of impersonal, ain't it?"

Laughing, the good doctor assures, "It's definitely shorter in the romance department than the customary way a child gets its start. You aren't the first person to point this out, and, believe me, you won't be the last. That's why we encourage both the parents and the surrogate to find alternative ways to make the occasion special. I've had patients come up with some pretty unique ideas and I'll roll with pretty much anything as long as everybody is safe. I welcome you to get creative, do your own thing, and please try to have at least a little fun with it. Otherwise, it's going to be a dreadful, medically sterile, bore. I'm afraid the celebratory glass of champagne is out, but I had one couple go on an Alaskan cruise after their transplant was complete. Another couple went bungee jumping. I don't see the appeal in that myself, but they loved it."

Mac smiles at Harm and pats his thigh. "Picnic lunch after a flight in a certain bright yellow biplane?"

He drops an arm around her shoulders and flashes his smile. "Or a trip out to the mesa with some of those oranges from Mom's tree?"

"We can't rent any more helicopters. You can't land Sarah up there. Even if you do manage it, you'd never get her down. You gonna climb up there with me?"

He eyes her skeptically. "When was the last time you climbed up there?"

She shrugs as if what she's about to say is no big deal. "Two years before I met you, but I can still do it!"

"Uh huh…let's think of something else."

"K, fine. Don't believe me." She says playfully.

Keeter shoots her a look of obvious uncertainty." You can climb that infernal rock? Why would you want to? And just out of curiosity, when was the first time you did that?"

"Yes I can, and because it is fun; that's why! My first climb? All the way to the top? With my own harness?"

He nods.

"I was 12 the first time I made it all the way up. I tried it at 10, but only made it 3/4 of the way up. I got too tired to finish."

"Funny." He declares dryly, looking her up and down. "You don't look like you went splat all over the desert floor."

"Of course not!" Mac declares with pluck. "Uncle Matt was there both times. He kept me safe."

"And again… this is your idea of fun?"

Mac nods vigorously.

Keeter points at her as he looks his oldest and closest friend in the eye. "Brother, there is something seriously wrong with your wife!"

Unperturbed she asks, "Where's your sense of adventure Jack?"

"In the clouds." He answers simply and honestly.

"So, you prefer jet propulsion as opposed your own steam?" She teases, implying that maybe he's lazy.

He shrugs undaunted. "Gets me a lot higher without all the hard work and sweat."

"And without the sense of personal accomplishment." She fires back confidently. "I promise you, you conquer that rock just one time, make it to the top in time to watch the sunrise, you'll feel untouchable."

He's silent for several long seconds and Mac assumes that maybe he's giving due consideration to her words until he quietly speaks and proves her wrong.

"But I don't want to be untouchable." He grins scandalously."I like to be touched."

Mac turns to Harm struggling not to laugh and loses the battle.

"Don't look at me." He says joining in. "I can't help you. You walked right into that one, Ninja Girl."

Laughing along with the others, it's Chloe who pulls the conversation back around to the appropriate topic. "I know this has nothing to do with me, but I'm curious. What's the whole egg harvesting process really going to be like for Mac? Is it dangerous? The online literature is a little vague."

Mac's laughter dries up as she answers. "I think the information available online is vague for a couple of reasons. The first is undoubtedly an attempt to protect the privacy of people who undergo the procedure."

Chloe nods attentively. That makes sense to me. The other reason?"

Mac smiles and shoots her doctor a mildly apologetic look. " Rebecca always does a good job of letting me know what I need to know, but have you ever noticed how all doctors seem to have an aversion to admitting, 'This is really going to hurt?'

Chloe nods and rolls her eyes. "I usually get the words,' Just a little pressure.' Translation, 'Grit your teeth and please try not to say anything vulgar or kick me when I do this to you!"

The doctor chuckles as Mac nods. "There are risks with any medical procedure. With this one, the risks are minimal… but, it's not going to be any fun at all. Actually, it's already no fun. But if caffeine withdrawal, and the hormone injections that will come later, don't get the best of me, I'll survive the procedure itself. An ultrasound image will be used to guide a large gauge syringe into an ovary. The process is similar to a spinal tap, the exceptions being, of course, the injection site and what's harvested."

Harriett cringes and pales noticeably as she takes Mac's hand. "Sounds like pure agony!"

Mac nods but shrugs at the same time. "I have to do my part in this. I'm not going to complain. It can't possibly compare to labor."

"Harriett doesn't like needles. Obviously, she can tolerate them, but the bigger they get the more uncomfortable she gets." Bud takes his wife's free hand in both of his and pats it affectionately."

Looking squeamish, Harriett addresses the doctor. "Can you anesthetize her while you do this?"

Dr. Thayer shakes her head. "Unfortunately, we can't even offer her a local anesthetic at the injection site. Any anesthesia at all would taint the harvest; make it inviable. If she can manage to hold perfectly still once the needle is in place, it won't take more than 5 minutes. Afterward, if she wants, I can give her pain medicine."

"And then you'll need one of the two of us." Skates guesses.

"Not quite. If all goes according to schedule - we will do this sometime around New Year's - we'll obtain Harm's contribution the same day as the egg harvesting. It usually takes us at least a week or two to work a little medical magic and achieve fertilization. It's highly likely we'll have several failed attempts before success. It's usually a very delicate process getting ovum and sperm to behave naturally outside of their normal environment. They are often uncooperative. It may take some coaxing; call it the medical equivalent of ambiance or setting the mood."

Keeter laughs openly; without shame. "These two don't need candlelight or Barry White on the radio Doc. They think the Arizona desert is sexy on the last day of August in 99° weather. Even sand, cave-dwelling bats, and cacti don't turn them off. Something tells me that you won't have any trouble getting their… stuff… to behave naturally. Just squirt it all into the same test tube and leave them alone for two whole minutes. That ought to do it! You'll have more tiny little Rabbs than bellies to put them in!"

Skates elbows him as Mac leans across Harriet's lap to peer into Bud's coffee cup. When she finds it empty, she takes it from him, stands, and hurls it at Keeter's head.

"Hey!" He objects loudly with a broad grin when the cup bounces off his forehead, I'm just sayin'… you two like each other… a lot!"

Laughing along with everyone else, Harm tugs on the hand still in his. When Mac glances down at him he whispers, "Sit down… and hope he speaks the truth." When she does sit, he lets go of her hand and drapes his arm back around her shoulder. "Buddy, I'll try to keep her from throwing anything else at you, but I can't guarantee success. You might want to behave over there. Either that or… learn to duck! I can promise you the next thing she throws won't be so light and friendly."

Shrugging, he dries up slightly. "Okay okay, so she does her part without any kind of pain reliever before hand; but what about the surrogate? I'm only a guy, but even I know labor and delivery ain't no Sunday picnic in the park."

Warming toward him once again Mac says, "Thank you. That's a good question. Harm and I are open to discussion on this matter with whichever of you does this. We can discuss it more in depth later, once a baby's on the way, but we'll do what we can to make you as comfortable as possible. We're not immediately opposed to epidurals. I'm not certain about planned caesareans. I am wholly against the idea of inducing labor for the sake of convenience; no matter how much easier it might make things for us in this situation. It's just not good for babies. Because she's dealt with all this before, I'd like to hear Harriett's thoughts on these matters."

The blonde smiles and slides forward in her seat a bit. "Mac already knows I agree with her about inducing labor. It's too easy to miscalculate due dates. Unless there's a medical reason to do so, it's not good for the baby, and I've never done it but, according to everything I've read, it often makes labor harder for the mother…"

She pauses to think about it and then chooses to correct her words to fit the situation… "For the one delivering. I think caesareans are the same. Given the choice between recovering from that or a vaginal birth… I don't think there's any contest. I have done it five times. There's nothing fun about it, but when it's possible, I believe natural childbirth is best for everybody involved. However, I fault no one for wanting an epidural. Bud and I seriously considered it before our first was born. I probably would have had one if he hadn't been in such a hurry; if the little stinker hadn't insisted on being born on the floor of the Admiral Chegwidden's office! As it was, I didn't get one. That proved to me that I could survive without one. I chose not to have one with each subsequent pregnancy because there are risks involved; deliver that epidural in the wrong place, get the injection off by just millimeters, and it is possible to paralyze a woman for life. I know doctors do hundreds of them every day around the world, but it still makes me nervous. Additionally, any drug that enters your bloodstream during labor also enters the child's. I just don't like the idea of babies being born stoned."

She giggles when laughter fills the room. "All of my doctors have tried to assure me that there is no lasting damage to the baby. I'm just more comfortable avoiding the possibility."

"But was there ever a point when you reconsidered that choice?" Skates inquires. "A point where you wanted to have that epidural regardless of your concerns."

"Oh, sure! That moment came with all my deliveries; the point where I just didn't think I could go on. That's why I fault no woman for having them.

Let's see, A.J. was in a big rush to get here, so it wasn't an option. Of course…" She lowers her voice and smiles sadly and both Mac and Bud squeeze one of her hands gently. "Everything went wrong with our Sarah. Jimmy was our easy baby. I had the usual pregnancy complaints; nothing too horrible. No complications. A long labor, but still the easiest one I had. He was even born on his due date. Nicky was our stubborn baby. I'm pretty sure he's the one that held up the show. He and Jenny were born two weeks late, which is very unusual for twins. It's not uncommon for them to show up a little early. That boy just didn't want to come out. There were no scary complications with him. He was just happy where he was and did not want to leave. I'd have had an epidural for sure with him and Jenny if I hadn't missed the window of opportunity. You have to do it before labor progresses too far." She explains. "He took longer than all the others, and I was so tired. He finally came out, and I was trying to summon the strength for Jenny. The doctor took a good look at her; he couldn't see her at all before Nicky was out of the way, and that's when he told us she wasn't fully turned. Well, I was laying there in horror remembering everything that when wrong with her sister and the doctor picked that exact moment to get up, walk across the room, strip his gloves off, wash his hands thoroughly, put new gloves on, and come back. He took his time about it! Bud and I were traumatized! He looked again and declared, "I knew that would work! All she needed was a little beneficial neglect."

"Well, naturally I shrieked at him. 'What the hell are you talking about… Beneficial what!" Apparently, he fully expected me to do this. It didn't bother him in the least. Obstetricians have been shrieked at since the beginning of time. You can hurl all manner of verbal abuse at them and they won't so much as blink. Mine actually smiled at me and informed us that girls are smarter than boys. As he explained it, 'She knew what she needed to do. She knew she needed to turn, she just couldn't do it with her slowpoke big brother in her way and now that she had the room she'd finished turning herself and she was perfectly fine. The contraction that finally brought her was beyond horrible; one of the worst I ever had, but thankfully she didn't agree with her brother. She didn't drag her heels. She wanted out. If I'd known how their delivery would go beforehand, I would have begged for a drug-induced oblivion."

"So, every baby is different. You'll have to make the choice you feel is best for you. I'd support either one. My best advice? Try to make your choices early. Don't wait until you're in the delivery room. You won't be able to think clearly at that moment. Make sure you're comfortable with your doctor. If you're not, get a new one, and don't apologize for it."

Skates looks to the doctor for confirmation of all she's heard and the medical professional offers her a smile. "Harriett gives sound advice. I can't find fault with anything she said. I especially like her recommendation about making the decisions early; not waiting until you're in labor. It's typically young women, or women who are delivering for the first time who make that mistake. Once a baby is on the way, sit down with Harm and Mac and anyone else who will be in the delivery room and make a plan. Things may not go according to the plan you make, but I can promise you it will be considerably worse if you don't have a plan, to begin with."

Skates nods and leans over to pick up Bud's empty coffee cup from the floor as the doctor asks "Any more questions?" She waits, looking around until each one of them answers in some negative way; whether it's a shrug, a simple shake of the head, or an' I can't think of anything else right now.'

"Great! You can all pick up my card and any literature you want on the way out. Just ask the nurse; her name is Marisol. If you think of anything, please don't hesitate to call. Harriett, Bud, if all goes according to plan; I won't see you again until sometime after Christmas. Have a wonderful holiday. Beth, Jack, you're the backup plan. Chloe plans to make herself one of the most readily available babysitters the world has ever known, and I'm certain that when the time comes she'll take lots of adorable pictures. Baby Rabb's not even on the way yet and already young cousins eagerly await his or her arrival. This is going to be one well looked after baby. Thank you all in advance for that. Harm, Sarah, I will see you both the Monday after Thanksgiving."

As they all rise to leave, collecting coffee cups and various jackets or handbags, Harm speaks up again. "Unless you have other plans, Mom and Frank want everybody at their house for dinner tonight. Laura will be there. She spent her morning with them at the local aquarium. I'm certain she will have lots of aquatic chatter to share."

---

Author's note: Annie, you are quite right. If Jack Keeter didn't exist, it would be necessary to invent him! I know that's a paraphrased quote from some literary mind, but at the moment I can't recall who said it or whom it was originally said about, so I'll give you credit alone for the charming thought.

Thanks also to Trevor, who called Keeter superb. Yes, the doctor was supposed to pick up on the relationship between Skates and Keeter. No, you are correct, no one told her about it. I'm pleased you enjoyed the chapter.

To the reader who was displeased with some of the writing regarding what I can only assume is your place of residence, Bud Roberts was sharing a private laugh with a friend, poking fun at his high-browed mother-in-law for being somewhat close-minded. Neither he nor I were, as you assumed, making fun of the great state of Kentucky or its fine citizens.

---

La Jolla California

Burnett Residence

Shortly Before Dinner Time

Lightning flashes and in its illumination Skates watches his eyes come alive with pleasure as she and Keeter step through the Burnett's front door greeted by the aroma of baking bread and something else hearty and fragrant simmering on the stove. He carefully latches the door behind her before helping her out of her raincoat. He tends to his own rain gear and then, in spite of the fact that he was careful to wipe them on the mat before entering, he checks the soles of his boots one more time before leaving the foyer. Previous experience has taught him that he will catch hell from the lady of the house should he dare to track muddy rainwater in with him. Inspection complete; he trots in long easy strides to the kitchen at the back of the house.

Once there, Skates greets each of the kitchen's occupants in turn. Bud, Frank, Chloe, Trish, and Harriett; the first three are stationed at the small informal dining table and amusing themselves with what looks to be pieces from a child's buildings set. The latter are busy with meal preparation, and it appears they've already found and settled into a comfortable working rhythm with one another.

Keeter's scarcely pays them any mind at first. Instead, he quickly washes his hands in the kitchen sink and then makes a beeline for the stove, peers over Trish's shoulder into a large stockpot where he finds vegetable stew and then immediately retrieves a bowl from a nearby cabinet. Without comment, he returns to her side and holds the bowl over the pot expectantly.

"Go sit down, Keeter." She says, unmoved by the boyish grin she catches a glimpse of in her peripheral vision. "It needs another 15 minutes to be perfect."

His nose tells him she's wrong, so he wordlessly points into the empty bowl; pantomiming insistently as if he hasn't eaten for days.

She considers ignoring him but decides it isn't worth the energy it would consume. She swaps her wooden spoon for a ladle and half fills his bowl. "That's all you're getting until dinner so get out of my kitchen. Go sit down over there with Chloe and the men and don't cause any trouble. She gives him an affectionate shove.

Before sitting, he snags a spoon from the silverware drawer, and then he dutifully takes his bowl and lowers himself into the empty chair that Chloe uses her foot to push away from the table for him. Without so much as glancing up, she says, "Sit here." as she attempts to construct something with plastic triangles, rods and small metallic spheres the size of pinballs. He observes quietly as he takes in his first three spoonfuls of stew then he picks up one of the triangular pieces and examines it. The flat surface of each triangle has a round hole in the middle and all three corners have small magnetic disks imbedded in them. He attaches three balls to the points of one triangle before asking "What are these things?"

Frank answers, "They're called Magnetix. Trish bought them for Laura. So far, I think the adults have had more fun playing with them than she has. Don't lay the balls out on the table if they're unattached. They roll everywhere. That's why they're in the bowl. If one rolls away and hides in a dark corner somewhere Laura could come along and trip over it. I don't want her getting hurt."

"Laura isn't the only reason for concern. Anyone of us might trip over those things if they get underfoot." Trish says reasonably as she delivers a glass of iced tea to Keeter's place at the table.

"Speaking of Laura, where is she?"

"She's upstairs on one of her snooping adventures."

"She snoops?

"Usually only where she's allowed to. Once you tell her someplace is off limits, she'll stay out. Every time she comes over, she investigates Harm's old bedroom as if it's a treasure trove. He told her he didn't care if she went in there. Every time she does, she finds some old keepsake to be fascinated with."

"I don't recall there being that much in there that would entertain a little girl." Keeter squints thoughtfully.

"She's not exactly typical."

"Can't argue with that." Keeter chuckles over the rim of his glass. He glances at Bud's sphere shaped contraption and then at whatever Chloe is trying to construct. "What is that?"

Chloe groans as her design collapses in on itself. She bites her lower lip in frustration as she picks up the scattered pieces. "If I can ever get it to stand up a right, it might start to look like a double helix."

"What, like a DNA strand?"

"Yeah, but it keeps collapsing under its own weight."

He glances at the partially deconstructed form and is suddenly able to see the intent behind it. "Not enough support. You need a wider base, and some kind of internal support."

Chloe squints.

Bud stops his own project and eyes hers thoroughly. "It will help if you build it from the inside out, instead of the outside in."

The furrow in her brow deepens. "I know exactly what you mean. I'm just not sure I can get my brain to come at it from that angle… From the inside out I mean." She admits plainly; with only the faintest trace of insecurity. "I'll get confused. I can see the whole thing in my head, but it's hard to focus on the individual parts; especially if I try to reverse engineer it."

Bud shrugs. "That's okay. Lots of people have trouble with that. You're more about art than structural analysis. Draw a picture of it, if you can. Use the picture as a reference guide, and then build it."

"Now that I can do!" Chloe grins; getting up from the table to retrieve her backpack from a nearby corner.

As she settles in again with sketch pad and pencil in hand, Skates joins them at the table after the other ladies politely decline her offer to help with the meal. She gently nudges Keeter's thigh with her knee. "Scoot over."

He eases over; perching on half of his seat. "I'll share my chair, woman, but you're not getting my stew." He declares feeling possessive of the bowl he moves along with him.

She rolls her eyes. "Did I ask for your stew? I can wait. Like everyone else; everyone else except for you, that is."

Trish quietly chuckles at the banter between the two of them and Harriett chops ingredients for a green salad as Laura's dog meanders slowly into the kitchen; turning to look back up the stairs to be certain her pal is close behind. When Laura makes it to the bottom step, she reaches for Candy's collar rather than for her walker; which is waiting at the landing for her, and leads the dog over to stand in front of Chloe.

"Hey Chloe, what'cha drawin'?"

"I'm drawing a picture of what I want to build with your magnets." Chloe holds up her sketch pad so the girl can see her handiwork, but she's quickly distracted by the large plush turtle Laura clutches between one arm and her small chest.

"Hey, you've got a new friend. Did you find that upstairs?"

Laura shakes her head and waits for Chloe to set her artwork aside, then plops her new turtle down on top of the sketch pad and climbs into her friend's lap before picking the toy up again. "This is Cedric. Grandpa Frank bought him for me at the aquarium. He's a giant leatherback. Did you know the real ones eat jellyfish?" Laura asks with obvious astonishment. "And they can get really old too; like 150 years old!"

Chloe can't help but chuckle at the girl's enthusiasm and she kisses the crown of the little child's head. "Nope, I didn't know that. Do you know how many stomachs an octopus has?"

"Yep; I do. They have three! That lady at the aquarium said so! At least she said Molly does, and she eats sharks two, but only little ones. Not big ones."

"Smart girl. Did you find anything fun upstairs?"

Laura nods her head enthusiastically as she notices Keeter for the first time. She says nothing to him. In place of a verbal greeting, she spins herself around in Chloe's lap and then places a small foot, clad in its ruby red sneaker, in his; but not before she uses the same foot to give him a gentle nudge.

In reply, he winks at her and says "Hey runt! You find any aircraft parts or stolen street signs stashed up there in the closet?

She giggles. "No, but I found a really cool rock in a box under the bed."

"A really cool rock, huh?" He teases, "I thought little girls played with Barbie dolls."

"Not me! Not gonna either, unless I find a Barbie doll with combat boots and a camouflage Jeep."

Finishing his last bite of stew Keeter asks, "Do I detect a certain marine's influence there?"

Laura simply flashes a bright smile in reply before she glances down into the bib pocket of her overalls and retrieves a small flat rock that has a bluish tint and is just big enough to fill her small palm. She hands it to Chloe for examination. "See. It's got writing on it."

"That's a carving; not exactly the same thing as writing."

"What's it mean?"

"You should ask your uncle Harm. I bet he'd like to tell you about this."

"Uncle Harm's not here. He went to get ice cream for dessert."

Keeter reaches over and gestures for the rock. Laura eyes him curiously and raises an eyebrow. "Will you give it back?" She asks with extreme seriousness.

He nods, but she continues to eye him with uncertainty.

"He'll give it back Laura." Trish verifies, looking up as she pulls a loaf of crusty warm bread from the oven. He'll give it back, or he will not get any dessert."

Willing to trust her grandmother, Laura gently plops the rock into his outstretched hand.

He turns it over and runs his thumb over the carving as tactile sensation calls forth memory. "I remember this rock. I broke the rear window of Lisa Gilman's old beat up yellow Pinto with this rock. Boy, was your uncle mad at me"

"What's a pinto?"

Keeter squints at her in surprise.

"She's not even seven Keeter. Pintos rolled off the assembly line before she was even thought about; before her mother was even thought about."

Keeter nods at Frank's words. "A Pinto is a car. Lisa Gilman's was seriously banged up, but it still ran. Her dad bought the old junker from a scrap yard for $85.00 and put a new engine in it. She named it Old Yeller. We were all at Annapolis together, and Easter weekend we took it to the lake."

Laura snatches the rock from his hand and clutches it to her chest as if she's protecting it."You throw rocks at cars? Keeter! You're not supposed to throw rocks at cars!" She lowers her voice and whispers conspiratorially, "That's just bad!"

"I didn't do it on purpose, runt. It was an accident. We took the car out to the lake and I picked up the rock and threw it. I was trying to knock a hornet's nest down."

"Why'd you wanna do that? That's not very nice either. How would you like it if somebody knocked down your house?"

She eyes him sternly until he surrenders and says "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It wasn't a smart thing to do. Are you happy now?"

Laura thinks about it for a long second and then nods. "Okay, so why was Uncle Harm mad at you?"

Keeter chuckles. "Because I broke his girlfriend's car window."

Laura raises an eyebrow and wrinkles her nose. Her next question causes Frank to throw back his head and laugh at the ceiling. "Uncle Harm had girlfriends?

"Oh boy, did he ever, sweet girl."

Laughing along with her husband, Trish walks over and runs her fingers through the little girl's hair affectionately. "The parade of young girls through this house! I thought it would never end. The only person who had more girlfriends than your uncle was Keeter and, to this day, neither one of them will admit it, but I'm quite certain they shared a few of them; including Lisa Gilman!"

Laura giggles innocently. "At the same time, you mean?"

"I've never been brave enough to ask that! I'm not sure I want to know… But I wouldn't put it past them."

Keeter rolls his eyes and declines to comment. "Anyway, after they both got done yelling at me, Harm picked up a piece of flint and edged his initials into that rock. A couple of days later, he gave it to her as a prank birthday gift right before he told her he'd paid to have her window replaced. I think she almost hit him in the head with his rock."

"You guys are not funny!" Laura declares; shaking her head and giggling in spite of her words. She studies the rock quietly for a second and slightly misinterprets what she sees." H R two."

Keeter grins. "Not quite. The two is smaller and slightly raised because it's an exponent. It should be read H R squared, or H R to the second power because he and his dad shared the same initials."

Laura gives this bit of information several seconds worth of serious thought and plays with her new turtle while she does; bouncing Cedric in her lap. At length, she finally asks, "If Aunt Mac and Uncle Harm have a baby boy, is he going to be an H R with a little three?"

"We don't know yet. You'll have to ask them that, Laura." Harriet offers her a smile. "Which would you prefer, sweetie? A girl or a boy?"

"A boy." Laura answers without hesitation. "Boys have cooler toys." She bobs her chin emphatically. "Will the baby be here soon?"

"Goodness no." Trish answers. "If it all goes well, the baby won't be here until next fall; sometime before your next birthday… Not the one in two weeks; the one next year."

"Aw man! A whole year! Nobody told me that! I want the baby now; even if it is a girl! Can't you make them any faster?"

While all the adults are laughing, Chloe hugs the girl tight. " Sorry kiddo! That's how long it takes, and there's nothing anybody can do about it. Just think about it this way. After the baby gets here, you don't get to have Uncle Harm and Aunt Mac all to yourself anymore. You'll have to share. So enjoy being the only child while you can."

Laura frowns as a new thought occurs to her. "Where are they anyway? How long does it take to get ice cream? Are we going to eat soon? I'm hungry!"

She drops her uncle's rock back into the front pocket of her overalls as Trish declares. "Darling, you're always hungry! Come over here and take this silverware. Use your walker. You can help set the dining room table, and don't worry about your aunt and uncle. I'm certain they're fine. The rain's just coming down pretty hard. It may have slowed them down."

Keeter observes the storm through the kitchen window. "They're probably parked somewhere on the side of the road making out while they wait for it to let up. They'll show up 20 minutes from now with melted ice cream and wrinkled clothes."

Caught off-guard, he hunches forward in his chair slightly when Trish smacks him on the back of the head. She hands him a stack of plates and bowls. "Go help Laura set the dining room table. We'll bring in the food and drinks in just a minute."

---

People coming and going between the Burnett's kitchen and dining room politely sidestep each other; most of them with quiet words and smiles, when they aren't calling out over their shoulders to one another because someone forgot something in one room or the other. Keeter and Laura are the only two trying to be loud and disruptive as they strive to outdo one another and, in doing so, they make minor nuisances of themselves for everyone else in the house. They pass each other once and she playfully bumps into him with her walker. He's laughing the instant before, and the next he's scowling, surprised that the small walking aid can cause so much pain when it catches a person at just the right angle, careening against the kneecap. On the next pass, before she can score any collision points, he grabs her by her overall's shoulder straps and hauls her into the air. Dangling midair, she squeals, somewhere between laughter and protest as he picks up the small ambulatory contraption, stows it in the pantry and closes the door on it. "Now let's see you run over my toes!" He laughs devilishly until he catches sight of Trish glaring at him.

She stops midway across the kitchen; heavy soup tureen balanced in both hands. "Jack Keeter, you will give her that walker back this instant! You started this nonsense. You got her all worked up, and now you want to take away the thing that provides her with stability and independence…" Trish has plenty more to say but stops short when worry and contrition immediately appear in his eyes. He hadn't meant to do what she said. He was only thinking about his bruised toes and knees; not about endangering or punishing the kid unfairly. Opening the pantry door, he starts to apologize, but Laura has other plans.

"I ran him over. On purpose. It's my fault."

"I don't care if you did. You're a little girl. He's supposed to be a grownup. He can find a more acceptable way to retaliate "

"Aw Grandma Trish, don't be mad at him… please! He wasn't trying to be mean; not really. He was just playing. Besides…" Laura makes up the rules of the game as she goes along and she decides it's time for a new rule. "He stole my walker, so now he has to carry me!" Still suspended in midair, she crosses her arms over her chest and bobs her chin once with enthusiasm. Wholly unconcerned that she might be at his mercy, or that this might not be the right time to push her luck, she shoots him a look of challenge as if daring him to argue with her.

Trish acquiesces grudgingly. "Okay, if it doesn't bother you, darling, then I won't say anything else about it; except this…" She glares at Keeter once more "Don't do it again!"

She continues on her way until Frank catches her midway and takes the heavy soup tureen from her. "I got this. I thought the bread was done already. Smells like it's still in the oven.

"I put another loaf in."

"One should be enough, don't you think?"

"Not with this brunch. Not if you want bread with your lunch tomorrow." She says over her shoulder as she returns to the kitchen. Once there, she stops short, surprised to find the rowdy playmates at rest at the kitchen table and playing with Magnetix as if all is well and they hadn't just been trying to annihilate one another.

"You two beat all I've ever seen!" She declares in mild astonishment as she picks up drinking glasses to take to the dining room.

Laura shrugs unconcerned and Keeter asks innocently, "What?"

Before Trish can comment the sound of someone approaching; running quickly across rain-soaked pavement pulls her attention to the bay window behind the kitchen table and the backyard beyond. The three of them watch in utter fascination and are soon joined by everyone else in the house as Mac and Harm dash, hand in hand and soaked to the skin, for the back door; both of them laughing like looms.

When the couple reaches the patio they have minimal shelter from the storm under the roof's eave and Harm pulls his wife back against him and wraps his arms around her before she can go into the house. She tugs at his hands and points for the door but he whispers something in her ear as he kicks off his shoes. She nods and sheds her lightweight jacket as he stoops to set a plastic grocery sack on the pavement and then peel off his wet socks.

Inside and shaking her head with equal parts humor and dismay, Trish never takes her eyes from the pair as she says quietly, "Frank quick, the washroom, bring towels, there are fresh ones in the dryer!" The rest of the house's occupants continue to watch in curious delight as Mac steps out of her shoes and opens the back door. She waits, still laughing, as Harm takes off his shirt and leaves it behind on the patio with the pile of wet things. He gathers the tail of his white undershirt in his hands and wrings it as best he can. He heads for the door and then retraces his few steps to pick up the nearly forgotten grocery sack.

By the time the French patio doors close behind them and they are safely inside and standing together on the narrow mat, Frank is there with several clean towels tossed over his shoulder. He hands one to Harm, who pats his face dry and then rubs his head as vigorously as he can with only one hand available, while Mac takes one for herself. She goes through much the same process as her husband and then she stops laughing long enough to sneeze several times in succession. Harriett grabs another towel from Frank's shoulder and wraps it around Mac's as much for warmth as for privacy; the marine's thin dress is clinging to her like a second skin.

"Well, what on Earth?" The blonde demands trying to stifle a giggle, as Bud takes the plastic sack from Harm and quickly stows the soft, but not entirely melted, ice cream in the freezer.

"That's a very good question." Trish seconds.

Harm tries a sheepish grin, but can't quite pull it off with his blue eyes dancing merrily. "Sorry, Mom. We came in the back door because we didn't want to track all this water across the rugs."

"Darling, in a downpour like this, I expect you to get a little wet coming from the car to the house, but you two are wet clean through! What happened?"

He starts to explain but doesn't get a single word out before Mac sneezes again. She shivers and he realizes that the house's cooler temperature, while not unreasonably low, is chilling her rapidly so he opts instead for, "Mom, it's kind of a long story… And Mac got it worse than me. She's a wet mess."

Instantly aware that Keeter will interpret the comment in a scandalously inappropriate fashion, Mac points her finger in his direction and, without even bothering to make eye contact she orders in a dangerously calm voice, "Not a word Jack, not one word!"

Momentarily stalled by her perfect timing and the ominous quality of her words, he's frozen, open-mouthed, until Trish clues in and adds, "Not if you value your life."

Laura giggles as she watches her playmate's mouth snap shut without so much as single syllable being uttered.

"Son, I'm not sure you're any less wet than she is but, if it's truly a long story, then put it on hold. It can wait until you two are dry." She steps over and wraps yet another towel around her daughter-in-law's shoulders. "With everything that's about to happen in the immediate future, the last thing Mac needs is to get sick. Upstairs now, both of you, go on, march!" She orders with stern, but maternal, affection. She gestures with her hands; shooing Harm ahead of her and then gently guiding Mac by the shoulders "Frank, darling, bring in their wet things… And then everybody to the table. We'll be down shortly."

Several minutes later when Harm enters the dining room in dry jeans and a sweater, Skates pulls out a chair for him. He sits and looks around the table realizing they are all holding dinner. He flashes his grin. "You guys could've started without us. We wouldn't have minded."

"No, but your mother would have," Frank comments with a wide easy smile of certainty.

Harriet lays a hand gently against the side of the soup tureen in the center of the table. "Besides, it's still hot. There was no trouble in waiting."

Keeter jokes. "Speak for yourself! Laura and I are hungry." He winks at the girl sitting across the table from him. He chuckles "What, we're suppose so hold dinner because you two can't figure out how to come in out of the storm? I figured you were having fun, but it didn't occur to me that you might actually be playing in the rain."

Chloe laughs as Mac enters the room two steps ahead of Trish. "He says this like he's the one person who didn't just sit at the kitchen table and eat half a bowl of stew."

Harm gets up and pulls out the empty chair next to his as he takes in his wife's attire. One of his mother's stylish black sweat suits, usually only worn when company isn't around, fits her a bit awkwardly. The bottoms are a little loose and the top is a bit snug across her chest, but at least she looks dry and comfortable. Before sitting, she folds one of her stocking feet beneath her and then smiles up at him; stealing a quick kiss.

Trish takes her own seat and then immediately pops back up again to return to the kitchen. When she reappears moments later, she sets a steaming coffee mug on the table in front of Mac. "You may as well have your second cup of the day with dinner, instead of after dinner. It will help to warm you up."

Grateful, and in no mood to argue, Mac curls her slender fingers around the mug and uses it to warm her hands as she watches them settle in; passing food back and forth to one another and filling their plates and bowls. She smiles at Harriett, who tends to Laura's needs without having to be asked, and is also vaguely aware that Harm is seeing to her food as well as his own. When the bowl in front of her is full; the aroma making her mouth water, he whispers. "Eat!" and offers her that dazzling smile of his.

She barely gets two bites down before Laura demands sweetly, " Is somebody gonna tell us what happened, or not?"

Harm chuckles. "No good deed goes unpunished, sweetheart!"

She gives him an odd look, shrugs her shoulders and announces, "Uncle Harm, I don't know what that means."

Chloe explains, "He means that sometimes when you try to do something nice for someone else, it winds up costing you a lot more than you expected it to."

Mac offers to explain further. "We went to the corner store to get ice cream. I went in and left Harm in the Jeep. On my way out, I saw Harm get out of the Jeep and walk over to the gas pumps, trying to call a lady's attention to her very flat tire. There she was, filling her tank, completely oblivious to the tire on the opposite side of the vehicle. I have no idea at how she got to the gas pump without realizing that she was nearly riding on the rim, the tire was nearly shredded, but there she was, nonetheless. Harm called her attention to the tire and it actually took some coaxing to get her to walk around to the other side of the vehicle. She was standing in a very narrow dry spot under the awning while she was pumping gas and her biggest concern was that she didn't want to get her hair wet because she'd just been to the salon. When she finally realized the tire was indeed flat, she grabbed her cell phone from the front seat of the vehicle and when she couldn't get a signal, she looked completely lost - not panicked - lost. By the time I reached her vehicle, she was whining because she didn't know what to do if she couldn't call the auto club. Harm offered to change the tire, and she wasn't going to let him until she realized that I was with him, which is alright I guess. I can understand the instinct to protect oneself against a stranger, but after he offered to help she got kind of snide. The car was a late model Lincoln and when he couldn't find a tire iron with the spare he asked her to pop the hood. When he explained that sometimes Ford will stow the tire iron beneath the hood, she took offense. I bit my tongue when this woman exclaimed, "Young man! This isn't a Ford! It's a Lincoln!"

With his spoon halfway to his mouth, Frank chuckles, as does Bud, while Chloe looks mildly confused until Frank offers, "I take it one of you explained to her that Ford and Lincoln are made by the same people. They can stick whatever label they want on the car. They use the same parts to build the motors."

"Well, I was about to do just that. However, Harm never missed a step. He just smiled and said "Yes Ma'am that goes for Lincolns too. We finally got her tire changed, but not before we were both soaking wet. She drove away without so much as a 'thank you.' And I have to say, I'm not oblivious, I know there are women who don't know how to do these things, but this one was utterly clueless. My uncle Matt wouldn't even let me sit behind the wheel of my first car with the engine turned off until I knew how to change a tire, put gas in the tank, change the oil, and put fluid in the radiator. He said it wasn't safe for me to be driving if I didn't know these things. Don't women worry about these things?"

"Sadly darling, many of them don't. No one's ever tried to teach them."

"Poor Harm went back into the store soaking wet and asked to exchange the ice cream I'd just bought. It would've been completely melted before we got home otherwise. Thankfully the store clerk was nicer than the woman with a flat tire. We didn't mean to take so long. How were things here?"

"Better than things were there," Skates says plainly. "Laura found an old rock with Harm's initials carved into it. Keeter begged for food before dinner like some starving orphan, then told a funny story about breaking some girl's car window with the same rock; probably more than 20 years ago. He made some of his usual colorful comments. Trish smacked him on the back of a head. Let's see… What else?"

"And I wanna know what you're gonna name the baby. Laura finishes for her while happily munching on a slice of crusty sourdough bread.

Mac smiles "Oh Laura, let's wait until there's a baby on the way before we start talking about that, okay?"

"Well, you must have some idea." Harriett coaxes.

"Are you going to name him after Uncle Harm?"

A tentative smile pulls at the corners of Mac's mouth. "I don't know." She looks at Harm. "That's one possibility."

"Well, did you have something else in mind?" He wants to know.

"I'm not sure anymore."

"Anymore?"

"I always just kind of assumed that if I ever had a little boy I would name him after Uncle Matt.

Harm nods. "I wasn't aware he'd fallen from grace… not in your eyes anyway. The Marine Corps maybe; but not yours."

Smiling, Mac lightly swats his arm. "He hasn't. However, if we name a little boy Matthew, I'm afraid someone is inevitably going to end up calling him Mattie. This family already has a Mattie. She's still a part of this family. Regardless of gender, one is special. Two is redundant. It just doesn't seem right. I don't want it to wind up being a painful reminder every time it happens."

Harm squeezes her hand affectionately, and everyone is quiet for a solemn moment until Bud tries to shift the mood. "What if she's a little girl? Then what?"

Mac offers up another tentative smile. "Then her middle name could be Grace, in honor of Mattie. It was her middle name and her mother's maiden name, she preferred to use it in place of Johnson." She turns to Harm once again. "What do you think? Would that be okay?"

Because there's nothing he can do to stop it, he tries to ignore the tear that catches him by surprise and drapes an arm around her shoulders. "Yes." He says hoarsely working around the lump in his throat. "Not only is that okay, I think she'd like it. She'd pretend she didn't at first, but actually…" He laughs in spite of himself. "She'd like anything; as long as it wasn't Matilda!"

Trish's smile is bittersweet. "And what should her first name be?

A quiet chuckle burbles out of Mac. "I have no idea!"

"What about Mackenzie?" Chloe chimes in and Harm nods along until Mac exclaims, "God no!"

Harm squints comically at the unexpected outburst. "What's wrong with Mackenzie?"

"I don't like it for the same reason Mattie didn't like to use the name Johnson. I don't care who this baby is, I'm not saddling her or him with Joseph Mackenzie's last name… Not for a first, middle, or last name! All kids should have a name they have to live up to, not one they have to live down."

"Hey!" Harm says quietly as he nudges her gently. "Nobody here has your dad in mind. He may not have done much good for the name of Mackenzie, but you have."

The rigid set of her shoulders softens a bit, but she shakes her head stubbornly. "I don't care! No!"

Knowing it's best to change the subject, Harm says, "Okay. No. Next suggestion?"