~~Book of Revelations~~
1600 Local
Maddie's Office
Mac had been sitting in the waiting room for 7 minutes. Why she was early, she had no clue. It was either impatience to get the session over with or eagerness for a resolution to this nightmare that she and Harm were living. Probably a little of both, but she truly wanted things back to normal with her best friend. She kept folding and unfolding the neatly typed paper with her "traits" on it. It had taken her all of Sunday to write them. OK, maybe not all day. She had done the laundry, run to the grocery store and rearranged her file cabinet. So it didn't take her **all** day. Hope Maddie doesn't ask how long it took us to do this, Mac thought.
From out of the corner of her eye Mac saw something jump from the window sill and disappear behind the leather chair. She thought she had imagined it, until "it" made his presence known. A rather large cat suddenly leapt from the floor onto the love seat next to her and began nuzzling her right arm.
"And who are you?" Mac cooed to the cat, stroking his back, right down to his full, bushy tail. His coat was thick, with a brown tabby pattern and a white chest that made him look regal. As she fingered the leather collar encircling his neck, the tiny bell attached to it made a soft, tinkling sound. In response to the attention he was receiving, he spoke to her in little chirps and trills.
Promptly at 1600, Maddie entered the waiting area and greeted Mac with a smile.
"Hi, Mac. Good to see you. I see you've made a friend." Maddie said, smiling.
"Hi, Maddie. I guess I can say it's good to see you too," Mac replied, continuing her ministrations behind the cat's ears. "He's beautiful. What's his name?"
"Zoloft-Zolly for short," Maddie replied, "He's a four year old Maine Coon."
"I didn't notice him the other day when we were here."
"He tends to disappear after lunch to find a comfy spot for his nap. Like any male, he doesn't want to be disturbed," Maddie said with a laugh. Pausing she added, "Is Harm coming?" only slightly worried what Mac's response would be.
"Guess so. I honestly couldn't tell you since we haven't spoken since we were here on Saturday."
Maddie was disappointed, but not surprised at Mac's response. Considering the way they "left" after their first session, she kind of expected that they would not communicate.
****
Harm stood down the hall from Maddie's office. He had watched Mac enter the building from the cafe across the street, and after she went it, he followed unseen. Now he stood here waiting for the appropriate time to enter the room. He was early, but hesitant to be on time. Mainly because he didn't want to sit in the waiting room with Mac and have nothing to say. Actually he had a lot to say to her. He wished he could tell Mac he was sorry and get rid of this whole mess they were in. But, maybe this was for the better. They really never got to have "the talk"; maybe it was time. This, however, wasn't the way he imagined it would be. "Guess it's time," Harm said to himself as he glanced at his watch. With a sigh, he walked down the hall to Maddie's office.
****
Exactly 4 minutes past the appointment time, Harm walked into the waiting room. Mac looked at him and thought, Let me guess, he couldn't find a parking place.
Harm shut the door and straightened his jacket before lying to the both of them, "Um, sorry I'm late-couldn't find a parking spot, again."
Mac smirked and muttered, "Knew that was coming. Would it kill you to be on time, just once?" Harm glanced at Mac sitting on the loveseat, and noticed the cat curled up in her lap. He thought he heard her say something, but she hadn't moved a muscle since he strode through the door, except to stroke the cat. Maybe it was his imagination playing tricks on him. He briefly entertained asking about the furry creature, but Maddie interrupted him by saying, "Let's go into the office and begin."
Maddie ushered her clients toward the door to the other room, Zolly following close at her heels. She was as eager to get this started as they were to get it over with. She thought about the homework assignment she had given them over 48 hours ago and was excited to hear how they perceived themselves. But first on the agenda was finding out if either of them had been to a counselor before, since their abrupt departure had prohibited her from exploring that avenue on Saturday.
The three of them took their places in the office; again, Mac on the right side of the sofa, Harm on the left, and Maddie in the leather chair. Zoloft, on the other hand, headed straight for the window and the warm glow of the late afternoon sun. Harm and Mac acknowledged each other, barely, yet seemed a little warmer to each other than they were on Saturday.
After offering her clients something to drink, Maddie began, "Let's recap briefly what we discussed on Saturday. You are both in agreement that you are best friends. And, you are also in agreement that you have problems getting along-is that correct?"
Mac nodded her head and Harm said, "Yes."
"There is one thing that I feel we need to explore before we get to your homework." Maddie looked to each of them for any type of response and received none-they were both very quiet-so she took that as non-verbal agreement.
Continuing, Maddie asked, "Have either of you experienced counseling before?"
Mac was the first to answer, "Um, yes. But it was a long time ago."
Harm looked deep in thought for a moment and then responded, "Do you mean recent counseling or how many times I've been to counseling?"
Maddie's eyes grew wide. For a brief moment she was speechless. OK, I was sure this would be an easy enough question, she thought. She gave Harm's question some consideration before asking one of her own, "Was there more than one occasion, Harm?"
Harm grinned, a little sheepishly, "Yeah, there were two-no wait, make that three." Maddie jotted this down, intrigued, yet not surprised that Harm would have some counseling in his past. This was something that warranted a little more investigation. But since Mac had only one counseling event, she'd discuss that first.
"Mac, let's start with you. Why did you go to counseling?"
"In 1996, after I returned from Bosnia." Mac's face immediately turned grim at the memory. It was a time she'd rather not recall. Over the years she had learned to bury such horrid memories merely because she didn't want them ruling her life.
Harm looked at Mac, hoping she'd turn her head in his direction so they could make eye contact. He knew she had spent some time in Bosnia, but didn't know about the counseling. The pleading look on Harm's face wasn't lost on Maddie, though. His concern was evident, even though her tour in Bosnia occurred in the past, probably before they met. Maddie went on, but only after making note of this.
"Did you go to counseling of your own accord, or did the military require it?"
Mac paused, not really wanting to go there. "My CO suggested it, but I went on my own to a civilian counselor."
"Tell me why you thought you needed to see a counselor."
"Bosnia was the first over-seas military action I saw. I was assigned with the JAG office to assist with a war crimes trial of a Bosnian Serb who was accused of the rape, torture and murder of prisoners. My job was to assist with collection of evidence."
Harm sat there astonished. He had no idea that Mac had experienced the horrors that he had only heard and read about. He silently wished he had known Mac then so he could have helped her through her ordeal.
Mac continued, "I witnessed the mass graves, the women who were tortured and brutally raped; all those orphans with no where to go-it tore me apart. While I was there, I tried very hard to maintain some composure, and do my job without my emotions carrying me away. Once I returned home, I couldn't eat or sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, those visions haunted me. I had to do something or lose my sanity in the process."
"That must have been an emotionally draining experience for you. Do those images still haunt you?"
"Sometimes. But I found a place where I can keep them locked away. I will never forget what I saw, but it doesn't overwhelm me like it used to."
Maddie was impressed with Mac's tenacity. Not everyone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder recovers in the same way. It takes a strong woman to go through what she did and stay in the military, Maddie noted in her file.
Harm wanted desperately to reach across the sofa and take her hand in his. But since they weren't here under the best of circumstances to begin with, he wasn't sure how she'd perceive his gesture. Briefly, Mac glanced in his direction and saw the concern reflected in his eyes. She looked away, not wanting to be swept up in an emotion she wasn't sure they were ready for.
Maddie watched the silent interaction of her two clients. Here were two people-a man and a woman so committed to one another that they didn't need words to communicate-their body language spoke for them. And right now, she was a first-hand witness to their unique dialect. She hated to break the silence in the room, but she felt she was on to something here.
"Harm," Maddie began softly, keeping the atmosphere almost church-like. "Tell me about your prior counseling experiences. Why don't you start with the first one?"
Harm's trance was broken slightly. He refocused on Maddie's question before beginning.
"The first time I had counseling was after my ramp-strike in 1991."
"Ramp-strike?" Maddie asked, knowing it had to be a naval term for something.
"Uh, yeah. I was trying to land my F-14 on a carrier. The seas were rough and I crashed. I managed to eject, but my RIO-radar intercept officer-died." Harm's initial humor in discussing his previous psych evals was gone. Recalling this particular event was agonizing for him, even though it became the motivation to become the person he is today.
"That must have been a difficult time for you."
"At the time I was told I had night blindness. I felt it was my fault."
"How long after the crash did you seek professional help?"
"It was about 5, maybe 6 weeks. I was in bed for most of that time. I couldn't walk, had to go through PT just to be able to get out of bed. In fact, they were surprised I lived, let alone walk again."
Mac looked at Harm, her brown eyes filled with compassion, and whispered, "I didn't know you were hurt that bad."
He nodded his head in silent acknowledgement. They had talked about the incident a long time ago. Although he had confided in her, some things, like the severity of his injuries, was deliberately left out-almost like "what she doesn't know won't hurt her," but in a kinder, gentler way.
"You had said that you had three counseling episodes in the past. Were the other two a result of this ramp-strike?"
"No, those were separate incidents."
"Tell me about the second time you had counseling."
"It was in 1996. I had gone to China as a maritime law expert for the Navy. China and Taiwan were having a dispute over two islands. The Chinese captured me and held me hostage, trying to get information regarding the U.S. position in the dispute. They tortured me by shooting me up with drugs and leading me to believe that my deceased father was alive and being held captive in a cell beneath me."
Mac was taken aback by Harm's revelation. She had never heard of this ordeal before today. Knowing how the loss of his father affected him, this incident probably served to drive him even more to search for him in recent years. She was hurt. Leaving out details about the ramp-strike injury was one thing; but to completely overlook telling her this was almost too painful for her to bear. She swallowed hard, smothering whatever tears were working their way to the surface. "Why didn't you tell me this, after all we've been through together?" Mac whispered, as she twisted the end of her shirt around her finger nervously in an attempt to keep her emotions just below the surface.
"I'm sorry I never told you," Harm said quietly, not knowing how to make it better for her. He scrubbed his hands over his face before running them through his hair. It took years to bury those dreadful memories and in a matter of minutes those wounds were raw and bloody again-not just his, Mac's too. It seemed they had spent years hurting each other and apologizing for it. This time was no exception. Had he known they would have to "revisit" the past so much, he'd have left his memories at home, in a shoebox in the closet.
Maddie's heart was breaking watching the scene unfold before her. All these years and they are still protecting one another from painful memories. It was almost like they would live the other's life just so they wouldn't have to experience the pain and sorrow all over again. She didn't think that they even realized they did that-it was such a natural response. It was amazing how in the midst of personal turmoil, they were still there for each other.
The room was silent. Harm and Mac sat there, still separated physically, but all the closer emotionally. Rather than interrupting the moment, Maddie gave them time to regain their composure before going on.
Three minutes had passed since Harm's "I'm sorry" to Mac. Some of the initial tension was evaporating and it seemed that they were getting to a comfortable middle ground where they could meet and work out their differences. Maddie was pleased with the baby-steps they were making, but they still had a long way to go. Getting to that point meant crossing some bridges they may have burned in the past. But for now, she still had to explore Harm's other counseling session-he had discussed two, but there were three. Maddie silently hoped that whatever revelations came from this discussion were ones that Mac had some clues about.
Breaking the silence, Maddie asked Harm, "What were the events that lead to your third evaluation?"
Harm eyed Maddie, then Mac, carefully. Mac "knew" about the eval after his little swim, but he wasn't sure she completely understood what motivated him to fly into a storm the night before her wedding, other than to just "be there". He knew he'd have to tread carefully in these waters.
"I had ejected out of my jet over the Atlantic in May, 2001."
Maddie unconsciously said "Really!" way before her brain told her not to. She was amazed at the adventures this man had been through, and she wasn't sure she had heard the half of it.
Apologizing, she motioned for Harm to continue.
Mac knew, sort of, what was coming next. The fateful night that changed both their lives had quickly become the topic of discussion. She had no way of avoiding it, short of the sofa swallowing her up. Again, she was twisting the hem of her shirt around her fingers nervously. Mac had known they'd have to "go there" eventually, even though she relived those events over and over. No counselor could ever purge her memory of nearly losing Harm.
Harm sighed, and again glanced over at Mac. He knew he had to begin somewhere, but where? Deciding to keep it factual, he calmly pulled those suffocating memories from where he hid them.
"I was out on the carrier Patrick Henry, for my annual quals-to keep my flight status. After I completed them, I requested to fly back to Andrews AFB. An approaching storm suspended all air operations temporarily. Once there was a break in the weather, my RIO and I were allowed to leave. But the storm moved faster than predicted and we were caught right in the middle of it. We lost most of the aircraft's flight systems and couldn't control the plane. The only thing left to do was punch-out, um, eject."
Harm took a deep breath in an attempt to stop his heart from racing. The images of that night were flashing in his mind like lightning. He stole another glance at Mac and wondered what was going through her mind right now. Seeing as how she was nervously playing with her shirt, he knew she was reliving that moment as well. There was no way he could spare her from what happened that night-she had lived through it just as much as he had. He could protect her from his other near-death experiences by leaving out details. That night he took his dunk in the Atlantic, she suffered right along with him.
Mac was almost relieved that Harm was able to summarize that night in just a few, bare-bones sentences. She silently prayed that Maddie would just drop the whole subject now. They had reviewed their past counseling experiences, which should be enough. But somehow, she knew it wouldn't be. They were at the gateway to a bridge that spanned the river of discontent they had been living lately. Finding what lay on the other side depended on how willing they were to cross that weathered bridge, baggage in hand and heart. Crossing that bridge would mean putting their fear behind them and exposing their souls to one another.
Maddie listened, completely fascinated by Harm's account. He had more lives than a cat, she thought. However, she got the distinct feeling that there was more to this story than what he was telling. They both seemed nervous during Harm's recounting of the incident. She noted that Harm frequently looked toward Mac as he talked. Not so much as to see her reaction, but almost to get her approval of his synopsis. This was obviously a part of Harm's life that Mac was quite familiar with. Maddie had several burning questions, beginning with-Why? Why does an experienced pilot fly into a storm, when waiting until the next day was an option? Or wasn't it an option? What was so important that he needed to return that night?
The silence allowed Maddie just enough time to sum up all her questions into one, "Harm, what was so important that flying into a storm was worth the risk?"
Harm and Mac both were startled at her inquiry. Harm-because he knew the answer and Mac-because she didn't.
1600 Local
Maddie's Office
Mac had been sitting in the waiting room for 7 minutes. Why she was early, she had no clue. It was either impatience to get the session over with or eagerness for a resolution to this nightmare that she and Harm were living. Probably a little of both, but she truly wanted things back to normal with her best friend. She kept folding and unfolding the neatly typed paper with her "traits" on it. It had taken her all of Sunday to write them. OK, maybe not all day. She had done the laundry, run to the grocery store and rearranged her file cabinet. So it didn't take her **all** day. Hope Maddie doesn't ask how long it took us to do this, Mac thought.
From out of the corner of her eye Mac saw something jump from the window sill and disappear behind the leather chair. She thought she had imagined it, until "it" made his presence known. A rather large cat suddenly leapt from the floor onto the love seat next to her and began nuzzling her right arm.
"And who are you?" Mac cooed to the cat, stroking his back, right down to his full, bushy tail. His coat was thick, with a brown tabby pattern and a white chest that made him look regal. As she fingered the leather collar encircling his neck, the tiny bell attached to it made a soft, tinkling sound. In response to the attention he was receiving, he spoke to her in little chirps and trills.
Promptly at 1600, Maddie entered the waiting area and greeted Mac with a smile.
"Hi, Mac. Good to see you. I see you've made a friend." Maddie said, smiling.
"Hi, Maddie. I guess I can say it's good to see you too," Mac replied, continuing her ministrations behind the cat's ears. "He's beautiful. What's his name?"
"Zoloft-Zolly for short," Maddie replied, "He's a four year old Maine Coon."
"I didn't notice him the other day when we were here."
"He tends to disappear after lunch to find a comfy spot for his nap. Like any male, he doesn't want to be disturbed," Maddie said with a laugh. Pausing she added, "Is Harm coming?" only slightly worried what Mac's response would be.
"Guess so. I honestly couldn't tell you since we haven't spoken since we were here on Saturday."
Maddie was disappointed, but not surprised at Mac's response. Considering the way they "left" after their first session, she kind of expected that they would not communicate.
****
Harm stood down the hall from Maddie's office. He had watched Mac enter the building from the cafe across the street, and after she went it, he followed unseen. Now he stood here waiting for the appropriate time to enter the room. He was early, but hesitant to be on time. Mainly because he didn't want to sit in the waiting room with Mac and have nothing to say. Actually he had a lot to say to her. He wished he could tell Mac he was sorry and get rid of this whole mess they were in. But, maybe this was for the better. They really never got to have "the talk"; maybe it was time. This, however, wasn't the way he imagined it would be. "Guess it's time," Harm said to himself as he glanced at his watch. With a sigh, he walked down the hall to Maddie's office.
****
Exactly 4 minutes past the appointment time, Harm walked into the waiting room. Mac looked at him and thought, Let me guess, he couldn't find a parking place.
Harm shut the door and straightened his jacket before lying to the both of them, "Um, sorry I'm late-couldn't find a parking spot, again."
Mac smirked and muttered, "Knew that was coming. Would it kill you to be on time, just once?" Harm glanced at Mac sitting on the loveseat, and noticed the cat curled up in her lap. He thought he heard her say something, but she hadn't moved a muscle since he strode through the door, except to stroke the cat. Maybe it was his imagination playing tricks on him. He briefly entertained asking about the furry creature, but Maddie interrupted him by saying, "Let's go into the office and begin."
Maddie ushered her clients toward the door to the other room, Zolly following close at her heels. She was as eager to get this started as they were to get it over with. She thought about the homework assignment she had given them over 48 hours ago and was excited to hear how they perceived themselves. But first on the agenda was finding out if either of them had been to a counselor before, since their abrupt departure had prohibited her from exploring that avenue on Saturday.
The three of them took their places in the office; again, Mac on the right side of the sofa, Harm on the left, and Maddie in the leather chair. Zoloft, on the other hand, headed straight for the window and the warm glow of the late afternoon sun. Harm and Mac acknowledged each other, barely, yet seemed a little warmer to each other than they were on Saturday.
After offering her clients something to drink, Maddie began, "Let's recap briefly what we discussed on Saturday. You are both in agreement that you are best friends. And, you are also in agreement that you have problems getting along-is that correct?"
Mac nodded her head and Harm said, "Yes."
"There is one thing that I feel we need to explore before we get to your homework." Maddie looked to each of them for any type of response and received none-they were both very quiet-so she took that as non-verbal agreement.
Continuing, Maddie asked, "Have either of you experienced counseling before?"
Mac was the first to answer, "Um, yes. But it was a long time ago."
Harm looked deep in thought for a moment and then responded, "Do you mean recent counseling or how many times I've been to counseling?"
Maddie's eyes grew wide. For a brief moment she was speechless. OK, I was sure this would be an easy enough question, she thought. She gave Harm's question some consideration before asking one of her own, "Was there more than one occasion, Harm?"
Harm grinned, a little sheepishly, "Yeah, there were two-no wait, make that three." Maddie jotted this down, intrigued, yet not surprised that Harm would have some counseling in his past. This was something that warranted a little more investigation. But since Mac had only one counseling event, she'd discuss that first.
"Mac, let's start with you. Why did you go to counseling?"
"In 1996, after I returned from Bosnia." Mac's face immediately turned grim at the memory. It was a time she'd rather not recall. Over the years she had learned to bury such horrid memories merely because she didn't want them ruling her life.
Harm looked at Mac, hoping she'd turn her head in his direction so they could make eye contact. He knew she had spent some time in Bosnia, but didn't know about the counseling. The pleading look on Harm's face wasn't lost on Maddie, though. His concern was evident, even though her tour in Bosnia occurred in the past, probably before they met. Maddie went on, but only after making note of this.
"Did you go to counseling of your own accord, or did the military require it?"
Mac paused, not really wanting to go there. "My CO suggested it, but I went on my own to a civilian counselor."
"Tell me why you thought you needed to see a counselor."
"Bosnia was the first over-seas military action I saw. I was assigned with the JAG office to assist with a war crimes trial of a Bosnian Serb who was accused of the rape, torture and murder of prisoners. My job was to assist with collection of evidence."
Harm sat there astonished. He had no idea that Mac had experienced the horrors that he had only heard and read about. He silently wished he had known Mac then so he could have helped her through her ordeal.
Mac continued, "I witnessed the mass graves, the women who were tortured and brutally raped; all those orphans with no where to go-it tore me apart. While I was there, I tried very hard to maintain some composure, and do my job without my emotions carrying me away. Once I returned home, I couldn't eat or sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, those visions haunted me. I had to do something or lose my sanity in the process."
"That must have been an emotionally draining experience for you. Do those images still haunt you?"
"Sometimes. But I found a place where I can keep them locked away. I will never forget what I saw, but it doesn't overwhelm me like it used to."
Maddie was impressed with Mac's tenacity. Not everyone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder recovers in the same way. It takes a strong woman to go through what she did and stay in the military, Maddie noted in her file.
Harm wanted desperately to reach across the sofa and take her hand in his. But since they weren't here under the best of circumstances to begin with, he wasn't sure how she'd perceive his gesture. Briefly, Mac glanced in his direction and saw the concern reflected in his eyes. She looked away, not wanting to be swept up in an emotion she wasn't sure they were ready for.
Maddie watched the silent interaction of her two clients. Here were two people-a man and a woman so committed to one another that they didn't need words to communicate-their body language spoke for them. And right now, she was a first-hand witness to their unique dialect. She hated to break the silence in the room, but she felt she was on to something here.
"Harm," Maddie began softly, keeping the atmosphere almost church-like. "Tell me about your prior counseling experiences. Why don't you start with the first one?"
Harm's trance was broken slightly. He refocused on Maddie's question before beginning.
"The first time I had counseling was after my ramp-strike in 1991."
"Ramp-strike?" Maddie asked, knowing it had to be a naval term for something.
"Uh, yeah. I was trying to land my F-14 on a carrier. The seas were rough and I crashed. I managed to eject, but my RIO-radar intercept officer-died." Harm's initial humor in discussing his previous psych evals was gone. Recalling this particular event was agonizing for him, even though it became the motivation to become the person he is today.
"That must have been a difficult time for you."
"At the time I was told I had night blindness. I felt it was my fault."
"How long after the crash did you seek professional help?"
"It was about 5, maybe 6 weeks. I was in bed for most of that time. I couldn't walk, had to go through PT just to be able to get out of bed. In fact, they were surprised I lived, let alone walk again."
Mac looked at Harm, her brown eyes filled with compassion, and whispered, "I didn't know you were hurt that bad."
He nodded his head in silent acknowledgement. They had talked about the incident a long time ago. Although he had confided in her, some things, like the severity of his injuries, was deliberately left out-almost like "what she doesn't know won't hurt her," but in a kinder, gentler way.
"You had said that you had three counseling episodes in the past. Were the other two a result of this ramp-strike?"
"No, those were separate incidents."
"Tell me about the second time you had counseling."
"It was in 1996. I had gone to China as a maritime law expert for the Navy. China and Taiwan were having a dispute over two islands. The Chinese captured me and held me hostage, trying to get information regarding the U.S. position in the dispute. They tortured me by shooting me up with drugs and leading me to believe that my deceased father was alive and being held captive in a cell beneath me."
Mac was taken aback by Harm's revelation. She had never heard of this ordeal before today. Knowing how the loss of his father affected him, this incident probably served to drive him even more to search for him in recent years. She was hurt. Leaving out details about the ramp-strike injury was one thing; but to completely overlook telling her this was almost too painful for her to bear. She swallowed hard, smothering whatever tears were working their way to the surface. "Why didn't you tell me this, after all we've been through together?" Mac whispered, as she twisted the end of her shirt around her finger nervously in an attempt to keep her emotions just below the surface.
"I'm sorry I never told you," Harm said quietly, not knowing how to make it better for her. He scrubbed his hands over his face before running them through his hair. It took years to bury those dreadful memories and in a matter of minutes those wounds were raw and bloody again-not just his, Mac's too. It seemed they had spent years hurting each other and apologizing for it. This time was no exception. Had he known they would have to "revisit" the past so much, he'd have left his memories at home, in a shoebox in the closet.
Maddie's heart was breaking watching the scene unfold before her. All these years and they are still protecting one another from painful memories. It was almost like they would live the other's life just so they wouldn't have to experience the pain and sorrow all over again. She didn't think that they even realized they did that-it was such a natural response. It was amazing how in the midst of personal turmoil, they were still there for each other.
The room was silent. Harm and Mac sat there, still separated physically, but all the closer emotionally. Rather than interrupting the moment, Maddie gave them time to regain their composure before going on.
Three minutes had passed since Harm's "I'm sorry" to Mac. Some of the initial tension was evaporating and it seemed that they were getting to a comfortable middle ground where they could meet and work out their differences. Maddie was pleased with the baby-steps they were making, but they still had a long way to go. Getting to that point meant crossing some bridges they may have burned in the past. But for now, she still had to explore Harm's other counseling session-he had discussed two, but there were three. Maddie silently hoped that whatever revelations came from this discussion were ones that Mac had some clues about.
Breaking the silence, Maddie asked Harm, "What were the events that lead to your third evaluation?"
Harm eyed Maddie, then Mac, carefully. Mac "knew" about the eval after his little swim, but he wasn't sure she completely understood what motivated him to fly into a storm the night before her wedding, other than to just "be there". He knew he'd have to tread carefully in these waters.
"I had ejected out of my jet over the Atlantic in May, 2001."
Maddie unconsciously said "Really!" way before her brain told her not to. She was amazed at the adventures this man had been through, and she wasn't sure she had heard the half of it.
Apologizing, she motioned for Harm to continue.
Mac knew, sort of, what was coming next. The fateful night that changed both their lives had quickly become the topic of discussion. She had no way of avoiding it, short of the sofa swallowing her up. Again, she was twisting the hem of her shirt around her fingers nervously. Mac had known they'd have to "go there" eventually, even though she relived those events over and over. No counselor could ever purge her memory of nearly losing Harm.
Harm sighed, and again glanced over at Mac. He knew he had to begin somewhere, but where? Deciding to keep it factual, he calmly pulled those suffocating memories from where he hid them.
"I was out on the carrier Patrick Henry, for my annual quals-to keep my flight status. After I completed them, I requested to fly back to Andrews AFB. An approaching storm suspended all air operations temporarily. Once there was a break in the weather, my RIO and I were allowed to leave. But the storm moved faster than predicted and we were caught right in the middle of it. We lost most of the aircraft's flight systems and couldn't control the plane. The only thing left to do was punch-out, um, eject."
Harm took a deep breath in an attempt to stop his heart from racing. The images of that night were flashing in his mind like lightning. He stole another glance at Mac and wondered what was going through her mind right now. Seeing as how she was nervously playing with her shirt, he knew she was reliving that moment as well. There was no way he could spare her from what happened that night-she had lived through it just as much as he had. He could protect her from his other near-death experiences by leaving out details. That night he took his dunk in the Atlantic, she suffered right along with him.
Mac was almost relieved that Harm was able to summarize that night in just a few, bare-bones sentences. She silently prayed that Maddie would just drop the whole subject now. They had reviewed their past counseling experiences, which should be enough. But somehow, she knew it wouldn't be. They were at the gateway to a bridge that spanned the river of discontent they had been living lately. Finding what lay on the other side depended on how willing they were to cross that weathered bridge, baggage in hand and heart. Crossing that bridge would mean putting their fear behind them and exposing their souls to one another.
Maddie listened, completely fascinated by Harm's account. He had more lives than a cat, she thought. However, she got the distinct feeling that there was more to this story than what he was telling. They both seemed nervous during Harm's recounting of the incident. She noted that Harm frequently looked toward Mac as he talked. Not so much as to see her reaction, but almost to get her approval of his synopsis. This was obviously a part of Harm's life that Mac was quite familiar with. Maddie had several burning questions, beginning with-Why? Why does an experienced pilot fly into a storm, when waiting until the next day was an option? Or wasn't it an option? What was so important that he needed to return that night?
The silence allowed Maddie just enough time to sum up all her questions into one, "Harm, what was so important that flying into a storm was worth the risk?"
Harm and Mac both were startled at her inquiry. Harm-because he knew the answer and Mac-because she didn't.