Chapter Forty-Seven:
Then Call Me Home

"Said Sara, You're the poet in my heart
Never change, Never stop
But now it's gone, It doesn't matter what for
But when you build your house
Then call me home."
-'Sara', Fleetwood Mac

WEEK 29
DECEMBER 19TH, 2001

1015 EST
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

As Mac cradled her cellphone between her shoulder and ear, she waited for her mother to pick up. Her baby sensed the outer-womb tension and wouldn't stop kicking and tumbling around inside of her. For once, Mac was grateful for the discomfort. It provided enough of a distraction for her that she wasn't going out of her mind from nerves.

Deanne picked up on the second to last ring. "Hello?"

Even though her mother couldn't see her, Mac still put on a brave smile. "Hi Mom," she said, placing a hand on her bump to try and calm the moving child within.

There was a noticeable pause on the other end of the line. "Sarah?" she asked slowly, as though she thought she was dreaming.

"Yeah Mom, it's me," Mac winced slightly as she took another tiny, jolting kick to the ribs. Could you calm down? she asked. For just five seconds?

"Oh my God-How are you? How have you been?" Deanne's questions came out in a rush. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Mom," Mac said, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt for not calling her sooner. Deanne had probably spent all of those months worrying, wondering if Mac was stuck in a miserable marriage; all the while Mac was the happiest she'd ever been. Her estrangement from Deanne didn't stop her from feeling like the world's worst daughter.

Deanne sighed with relief. "So you didn't marry him?"

Mac smiled at Deanne's hopeful tone. As it would turn out, Mic Brumby had such an undesirable persona that even the people who didn't know him were relieved he didn't marry Mac. "No, I didn't," Mac felt a small kick, one that seemed to press right against her palm, "I didn't settle."

"Well that's a relief. So, how have you been?" Deanne asked. "Or is this the time when you hang up on me?"

Mac's mouth dropped open. She grimaced, not at another kick but at her past rudeness. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that-"

"It's okay, honey."

"I was just under a lot of stress-"

"I understand, Sarah. You don't need to apologize," Deanne laughed wearily, "I abandoned you, you hung up on me. It was the least you could do to get back at me."

Mac laughed too, and for a moment everything that had happened between Mac and Deanne was forgotten. However, another kick brought Mac back to reality, and reminded her why she'd called.

"Are you alright?"

"Hmm?"

"You made a weird noise...is everything okay?"

"Oh! Yeah, I made that noise because…" I can't tell her that her future grandchild is practicing kickboxing in my uterus, can I? No, that's too blunt. "I have something to tell you, Mom."

"What is it?"

Mac looked down at her bump. It felt absurd that she was still announcing her pregnancy when she was almost seven months along, but here she was. You brought this on yourself, she thought, Harm told you to call months ago, but you didn't. For once you should've listened to him.

"I'm…" Mac took a deep breath, hoping to inhale some courage. "I'm going to have a baby, Mom. I'm pregnant."

Deanne gasped, and Mac smiled despite herself. "What?" Deanne asked in disbelief. "But-wait, I thought you weren't-"

"I didn't get married to Mic," she said. "I uh, got with this other guy-he's a lot better than Mic, don't worry. And we-well, we didn't really plan it-"

Mac paused herself mid-ramble to collect herself. Her mother certainly did not need to know the circumstances surrounding how Harm and Mac conceived. "Anyways, I'm pregnant," she finished lamely. "Surprise."

"Oh, Sarah," Deanne spoke softly, and Mac could tell she was getting choked up. Mac's initial reaction was to bolt from the emotions, but she forced herself to sit and let them all be felt. Regardless of their past, Deanne had the right to get emotional over becoming a grandmother. "When are you due? What are you having? Have you thought of any names?"

As Mac answered her mother's questions, she couldn't help but bask in the overwhelming sense of...normalcy she felt. 'Normal' was never something she associated with her mother, even before she left. With Mac's hopes rising, she got a little hasty.

"You know," she started, unintentionally sitting up with anticipation. "You could come visit if you wanted to. It might be too late for you to make arrangements for Christmas, but maybe you could come...after? I don't know."

There was a small intake of breath on the other end of the line, so small that Mac wouldn't have caught it if she wasn't hanging onto Deanne's every word, hoping this one conversation would make up for decades' worth of separation.

With that one breath, Mac's bubble burst. Deanne didn't even have to say a word.

"Oh honey," Deanne sighed. Mac didn't want to hear her explanation, but couldn't object. "I wish I could, but-"

"It's okay."

"It's just that money is really tight right now and I'd have to travel cross county-"

"I said it's okay, Mom," Mac snapped, and Deanne fell silent. Mac felt guilty for losing her temper, but the tiny invisible devil perched on her shoulder told her that it was warranted. "I get it."

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" Deanne asked. I'm going to be

"A little," Mac replied. "I'm going to have a baby, Mom. You're going to be a grandmother."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Mac couldn't help but roll her eyes, as insensitive as it was. Deanne's financial struggles were valid, but Mac couldn't stop herself from being a little selfish. The anger was easier to feel than the disappointment.

"I know that," Deanne replied, and Mac could hear her getting choked up. "You know I would come in a heartbeat if I could but-"

"You're trying your best," Mac finished. "I know." She was able to talk herself down from the ledge of anger; it was something she was forcing herself to get better at. Being able to easily curb her temper was something that would come in handy with motherhood.

"I'll try to come," Deanne told her, "I promise."

"Okay," Mac nodded. She felt another kick and made a promise to herself that she wasn't going to get her hopes up.

1830 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE
GEORGETOWN

Mac finally arrived home after a work day that went longer than expected. Closing the front door behind her, she heard the sounds of Harm cooking in the kitchen and soft rock playing on the stereo. She immediately recognized the song playing, and after smirking at the irony she felt the pang of a painful memory.

"I'm home!" she called. She walked over to the stereo and turned it down a few notches, partly so she could hear, partly so the neighbors wouldn't complain. Harm was so used to not having neighbors that he didn't realize how loud he liked his stereo to be.

"Hey!" Harm strolled out of the kitchen, whistling along with the song. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and a dish rag tucked into his jeans pocket.

"You know," Mac smiled as Harm walked over to her. "Everyone drools over the dress whites and gold wings, but I think I prefer the domestic look."

"Interesting," Harm took Mac into his arms and placed a kiss on her lips. "Do you wanna know what else is interesting?"

Mac looked up at him. "What?"

"Fleetwood Mac wrote a song about you."

"It's not about me," she corrected, rolling her eyes affectionately. "I'm 'Sarah' not 'Sara.'"

"It's close enough," Harm replied with a shrug. He took Mac by the hand and twirled her around in a slow, gentle circle.

"You sound like my mom," Mac said, which made Harm pause. "She always used to joke and say that Stevie Nicks wrote the song especially for me."

He smiled. "That's nice, hon."

Before Harm could say anything more about the subject of her mother, Mac decided to change the subject. "What's for dinner?"

"I made some bruschetta with garlic bread."

Just the sound of the dish made Mac's mouth water. "That sounds amazing," she started to make her way to the dining room. "I'll set the table-"

"Actually, wait," Harm walked in front of Mac, blocking her path. "I already did."

Mac frowned. She peered over his shoulder to check and make sure she wasn't going crazy. She wasn't. The dining room table was completely bare. "What do you mean?" she asked. "There's nothing on it, Harm."

"Uh, well...I kind of have a surprise," Harm ran his fingers through his hair. "That's what I forgot to mention."

"A surprise?"

"Yeah," he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, nudging her in the direction of their bedroom. "You go change out of your uniform, and I'll be waiting."

"Should I be concerned?" Mac asked over her shoulder as she headed into the bedroom.

"No."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

What Harm failed to tell Mac was that she was actually getting two surprises for the price of one. Earlier that day, Harm had been sneaky and got permission from the Admiral to take the afternoon off; Mac had been so busy she hadn't even noticed he had left. He used his afternoon off to set up the entire nursery by himself. All the remaining furniture was assembled and arranged, the curtains were hung up, and their gifts from the baby shower were stored away in such an organized way that it made Mac want to swoon. She could honestly say she couldn't have done a better job herself.

To celebrate, Harm had set up a picnic for them in the nursery. He'd spread out an old bed sheet on the floor over the fuzzy yellow rug-he didn't want to risk getting tomato sauce on it. Candles were lit on the new dresser-Harm was thinking about painting some bumble bees on it, sticking to the yellow theme. After setting up the furniture, he'd gone to the craft store to pick up some paints and brushes. He was sure his mom would be proud.

"Let's have a toast," Harm said, holding up his glass of apple cider.

"A toast?" Mac asked. She was laying on her side, her head propped up with one elbow. There weren't many comfortable positions to lay in when you were in the third trimester, something Harm had failed to consider when he had them sitting on the floor.

"Yeah. Our kid finally has a room."

Mac smirked. "Okay," she held up her own glass of cider. "Here's to our kid finally having a room."

As they toasted, Mac's eyes drifted up to the top of the dresser. In the middle of the small collection of stuffed animals they'd emassed from the baby shower, a safe distance away from the candles, was the elephant Mac had bought. The one that looked just like the one she had when she was young. Mac was instantly transported back to that morning.

Her wave of sadness was interrupted by Harm jumping to his feet. He was able to move with a speed and agility she was envious of. Pregnancy had made her realize that being able to get around with ease was something she'd definitely taken for granted.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "I thought we were going to eat."

"You can eat," Harm told her. "I have a presentation to make."

Mac laughed. "A presentation?" She looked around to see if Harm had a projector stored anywhere.

"Yeah," Harm said as it was obvious. "You didn't think you were going to eat in here without getting a tour, did you?"

Mac watched with amusement as Harm went around the room with the utmost pride and excitement. He pointed out all the things he'd put together, how he organized all the clothes by season and how the stuffed animals were organized in a specific way to make them look the most aesthetically pleasing. He'd even arranged the books in alphabetical order.

"And over here we have the rocking chair for rocking...and here's the changing table for...you know, changing."

Harm paused when he noticed Mac's far-off expression. He could tell earlier that something was off, but he'd chalked it up to her just being tired after having a long day. He walked over to her and crouched down. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay, marine?"

She looked up at him, the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Yeah," she nodded. "I uh, I called my mom today."

Harm was glad Mac was looking down so she couldn't see the taken aback look on his face. "Oh yeah?" he asked. Mac nodded again, this time swiping away a tear.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not right now," she looked up at him with watery eyes. "If that's okay."

"Sure," Harm placed a kiss on her forehead. "That's okay."

Mac didn't allow herself the luxury of crying until later that night, after dinner when she was laying in bed. She let the first few tears out thinking that Harm was asleep, but he wasn't. He had stayed awake, knowing Mac needed someone to be there with her. When Mac accidentally let a sob escape, Harm instantly rolled over, not needing the light to find her. He gathered her into his arms, his embrace providing a safe haven for her and their unborn child. He didn't say anything. He just stayed there with her, letting her know that she wasn't alone. Harm tried his best to let her know he was going to stay right there, that he was never going to leave her, despite how many people had done that to her before.

Another sad one. Sorry! Hope you enjoyed it, though!

Thanks for reading!

-Harper