Chapter 13
Sturgis Turner was surprised to hear a knock on his door just after 2100 hours. He didn't often have evening visitors—not while Bobbi was off campaigning, at least. He rose from his seat on the couch, setting aside the file he was reading, and went to answer the door.
Mac stood in the doorway, looking like her entire world had been ripped away. His stomach clenched with apprehension.
"I need a drink," she said before he could react, her voice flat. The she drew a shuddering breath. "I didn't know where else to go—who I could go to." Her eyes pleaded with him.
Sturgis stepped back immediately, inviting her inside with a wave. He'd been raised to never turn away someone who needed help, and if Mac was having real trouble resisting a drink, she definitely fell into that category.
"Where's Harm?" he asked once she was far enough inside to allow the door to swing shut behind her.
Mac wrapped her arms around herself, fingers knotting in the sleeves of her jacket. "With Diane." She didn't look at him.
Sturgis didn't need any further explanation. Though he'd been on the far side of the bullpen, he'd seen the trio split after coming out of the Admiral's office, and later seen the gentle embrace Harm had given Diane before she left. For Sturgis, the situation was especially difficult, because he considered both women his friends and he wouldn't presume to judge which relationship was the "right" one.
He kept his thoughts to himself. Right now, Mac needed a sympathetic shoulder. "I was just going over some notes on the Vuarez court martial," he told her. "But I could use a break. Would you like something to eat?"
She shook her head.
"How about a drink then?" When she looked at him, he added, "Of the non-alcoholic variety, of course."
Her answering smile was wan but genuine. "Okay."
He fetched two glasses of iced tea from the kitchen, and when he returned he found Mac seated on the edge of the sofa, elbows on knees with her hands hanging limply between. Her head was bowed, her hair falling forward to hide her face. Sturgis felt for her, a deep sadness that threatened to choke him up. He fought it. The last thing Sarah Mackenzie would accept was pity.
"What happened?" He set one glass down on the coffee table in front of Mac, then settled opposite her.
Mac reached out to touch her glass. "Nothing happened, Sturgis. He's always been in love with her." Her breath hitched, sounding suspiciously like a sob. "And, you know what's worse?" She looked up at Sturgis through her bangs, her eyes bright and frantic.
He slowly shook his head.
"I can't even be happy for him." Mac spread her hands, fingers closing into fists. "I wish Diane had stayed dead! What kind of horrible person does that make me?"
His heart breaking for her, Sturgis moved to sit beside Mac on the couch. She leaned into his embrace without even a token protest, her quiet sobs muffled against his shirt. He sighed.
"You're not a horrible person, Sarah." He stroked her hair in a comforting gesture. "Just human."
#
The next morning the JAG office hummed with its usual activity, but something was distinctly different, Harm thought. For the second time in a week, he got the feeling people were unhappy with him, but this time the entire office seemed to be involved. The few greetings he received as he walked through the bullpen were stiff and unnecessarily formal, and the friendly ribbing he'd come to expect whenever he returned to work after one of his adventures was entirely missing.
He didn't spend much time worrying about it, though. He was too consumed with how to talk to Mac. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—she was already in court. It would have to wait a little longer.
Harm tossed his briefcase onto his desk, plopped his cover down on top of it, and sank into his chair. He'd spent the entire evening trying to figure out how to tell Mac—what?
Just spit it out, Rabb, he chided himself. How hard can "I love you" be, anyway?
He snorted. Yeah, right.
The phone rang then, sparing him any further introspection. He wasn't too terribly surprised to hear Diane's voice on the other end of the line. And, as much as he considered talking to Mac a priority, he still didn't hesitate to call Tiner to secure a few hours of leave. This was too important, too delicate, to push aside for his own reasons.
Just over an hour later, he was standing on the porch of a home in suburban Baltimore, waiting for the door to open.
Michael Schonke was a slightly built man in his early sixties. His features were kind, and he spoke pleasantly enough, but the loneliness that governed his life became all too apparent after only a few minutes of conversation. His wife's cancer had been swift, which had been fortunate in some ways and terribly cruel in others. He had always been able to share the lingering pain of their daughter's loss with Ellen, but for most of the past year, it had been a burden he'd been forced to bear alone.
This morning, his demeanor showed only surprise at the visitor on his doorstep. "Now this is unexpected," he said pleasantly, shaking Harm's hand firmly.
"Hi, Mike." Harm greeted him with a warm smile. "Sorry to drop in on you so early."
"Well, I appreciate the visit, but I know this isn't on your morning commute." Mike's eyes held a hint of caution as he sized up the younger man, realizing at once that there was solemn business of some sort to be conducted. "Come on in, Harm."
The house still looked much the same as it had the last time Harm had been there, too long ago to recall. The two men had never been particularly close, but they shared a unique kind of pain that had bound them together. Mike poured him a cup of coffee without a word, and they sat down in the living room.
"I'm going to assume that you didn't drive all the way out here just to check in on me."
"You assume right. Although it's good to see that you're doing well." Harm took a sip of his coffee, trying to make himself relax.
" 'Well' is a relative term, but thanks." Mike leaned forward in his chair. "You haven't been this tense since Di first brought you around here, nigh onto forever ago. What's going on?"
Harm sighed. "I got some news recently, and I don't know how to spring it on you."
"About Diane?" When he nodded, Mike didn't flinch. "I don't think there's anything left for you to say that could make it better or worse. You're not going to scare me into cardiac arrest, if that's what you're worried about. My heart's as strong as ever."
"I can see that." Harm offered a small smile. "But I can guarantee that this is going to shock you. It shocked the hell out of me, and I thought nothing could get to me anymore. It's going to take a long time to fully explain, but there's no way to ease into this one."
Mike gave him a wary stare before nodding slowly. "I guess you'd better just tell me then."
Harm took a deep breath. "Your daughter is alive."
At once, all the color rushed away from the older man's face. He quickly put down his coffee cup before his trembling hand could spill it. Harm charged ahead, hoping to answer the inevitable questions before they could be asked. "Nothing beyond that has been a lie. She really was shot by the XO of her ship because she tried to report him. But the National Security Agency needed her skills for a very difficult and very important assignment, and they set this ruse in motion before she had a chance to do anything about it. Now she's finished her mission with the NSA, and she's come home to rejoin her life."
Mike just stared at him, clearly disbelieving. "She wouldn't do that," he stated, in a controlled voice. "That's not who she was. She wouldn't let us be hurt like that…"
"Mike, I've seen her," Harm said quietly, holding his gaze. "It's real. She came to me for help getting her life back in order. And she asked me to come talk to you because she can't stand the idea of hurting you any more."
Diane's father rose hurriedly from his chair, turning away. "How can that be?" he whispered. "Six years without a word to her own parents? To you? She couldn't come back to say goodbye to her mother? Ellen died believing a lie?"
"She didn't know about Ellen until it was too late. I think that's part of the reason she decided to come home now." It pained Harm to feel the man's veiled anger. He remembered all too well how cold he had been to her when she had begged his forgiveness, and a daughter's betrayal was far deeper than any friend's could ever be. "You have every right to be angry. I was, and I guess in some way I still am. But I'm trying to be angry at the situation, not at her. She put the good of the country first, the way we were taught, and because of her work, a lot of sons and daughters who defend American interests in Asia will be safer. You're never going to be able to get back those lost years, and she hates that as much as you do. But you have today, and tomorrow, and all this time you never thought you'd get… and it all starts the moment you let her back in. I'm not going to push you, but she's ready as soon as you are."
Mike turned back around, a faint ray of hope evident in his expression. "Where is she now?"
"Outside in the car," Harm replied with a gentle smile. "She wanted me to ease you into it, and she was afraid you might not want to see her right away."
"Not want to see her? After all this time, how could I not… Diane!" He started toward the door, then halted, catching a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror. "She's going to think I've given up on myself. I look ancient."
"You do not, and I don't think she'd care if you did." Harm stood up and laid a hand on the older man's arm. "Relax. It's going to be fine."
"What am I even going to say to her?" Mike asked, nearly inaudibly.
"It doesn't matter. But it's been six years since she's heard 'I love you,' so that might be a good start. Wait here." Harm stepped outside and went back to his car, opening the passenger door. Diane climbed out, looking up at him anxiously. He squeezed her hand in reassurance.
When she turned toward the door, and her father saw with his own eyes that his little girl was alive and safe, it shattered every reservoir of self-control he'd ever had. Michael Schonke broke down in wracking sobs on his front porch, utterly overwhelmed by the sudden and complete restoration of his soul.
"Dad," Diane breathed, running up the steps to fall into his arms. "Daddy, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry for all of this…"
"It's really you," he managed to say, clutching her tightly. "My baby… Di, I love you—I love you so much!"
Her tears spilled over, and she buried her face in his chest. "I love you, too," she sniffled, clinging to him and remembering instantly how her father's presence had always been able to make the world right. "We're going to be okay, you hear me? I don't care what I have to do, but from now on we're a family again."
"That's all I need, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead and looked up at Harm with immense gratitude. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he answered softly, carefully keeping his own emotions in check. Witnessing that reunion would have melted even the hardest of hearts, but for him it was a far more personal experience. Two people who had been absolutely alone, who had made difficult choices and suffered by them, who were now willing to put all else aside and reestablish their bond…
In some inexplicable way, it made something clear to him. He knew now what he needed to do and say.
"It's probably time for me to hit the road," he remarked, fishing for his keys. "There's something I still have to do today."
Diane raised her shining eyes to his. "I'll give you a call when I get things sorted out with the Navy," she promised.
He smiled. "I'll hold you to that. If you need anything, you know where to find me, all right?"
She blew him a kiss as he climbed into his car, and watched as the Vette faded from view. Then father and daughter walked into the house hand in hand, ready to begin anew.