Title: In A Garden
Chapter Twelve
By: LizD
Written: February 2004
Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.
In A Garden – Part 12
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The next few days flew by and then she was gone. They tried to stop time – well slow it down anyway.
Harm had taken Friday off and he and Mac spent good quality time alone in the morning and afternoon – waking up slowly, eating a leisurely breakfast, running errands and generally enjoying the slowed childless pace. They didn't discuss the financial issues facing Harm; Mac knew that he would need time to think them through himself first. She also knew that there was more than what Harriet was privy to. They didn't discuss her divorce or a plan for moving one or the other family to the other coast. In fact they skirted around the whole 'future' discussion. Harm tried, but each time he got close – Mac changed the subject. He took that as a sign that she was not ready, and convinced himself to bide his time.
The boys' birthday party was a raging success. They were well behaved and had a wonderful time. Mac, in all respects, acted as his co-host. It warmed his heart to see her take on the role with such ease and grace. Chloe saw Harm and Mac interacting and she could not deny that Mac looked happy and they did look like they were well suited. The party ended and like good parents, they sent the guests home, put the children to bed and cleaned up together.
The next morning was a blur and before Harm knew it, it was time for her to go. Chloe was to drive Mac and Hailey to the airport so the 'goodbye' was at the house. They had said – expressed rather– what they really wanted to impart to the other the night before in the dark and quiet of the night. Words were not necessary or encouraged – nothing that would quantify the feelings. But when the day came, there was nothing tangible to hang on to. Harm wanted her to have something of his, and he wanted something from her as a talisman, a touchstone, and a lucky piece to keep close. But that felt so silly. They were adults. He was embarrassed to ask. Guess he didn't see her stuffing his US NAVY sweatshirt – the one that took him ten years to break in – into her suitcase. It would become the first thing she changed into every night. He also didn't notice - until a couple days after she left - that his Navy ring was replaced in his jewelry box with her Marine one. He smiled at her sly romantic side, and kept it in his pocket for safekeeping.
The time came for them to go and Hailey had a little meltdown. She did not want to go. She ran crying from the house and down the street. Mac started to go after her, but a touch from Harm stopped her. He ran down after Hailey. When he caught up to her she was sitting on the sidewalk crying.
"I don't want to go. I like it here."
"Yeah, here is a nice."
"I'm staying. Can't I stay?"
"Sure, honey. You can stay," he waited for her to look up at him. "Your mom still has to go."
"I want her to stay too."
"Yeah, me too. But she can't, she has to go to work."
"No." Hailey pouted.
"I know. It is too bad, but even after you grow up there are things you have to do that you really don't want to – kind of like baths and eating your vegetables."
"Mommy has to go?"
"Yes. Now, you could stay here. David and Zander would love to have you, but then your mom would be all alone."
"I don't want her to be alone."
"How about this? How about if you go with your mom, and I promise that soon – very soon – Zander and David and I will come visit you?"
"When?"
He wished he could answer that with a date and time, but - - - "soon."
"Before my birthday?"
"That's in November?"
"November 14th."
"Before then," he promised. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up and carried her back.
That little incident took away time. Harm placed her in the car seat and kissed her little head.
"Thank you." Mac said for more than just calming her daughter down. "I'll call you."
He nodded. His tongue was tied and he was worried about what would fall out of his mouth. He pressed her to him and released her quickly. The boys clamored for hugs and kisses then stood by their father.
With that - she was gone. Watching her drive away, Harm felt the same loss he did that night on the admiral's porch. Would there ever be a time when they didn't have to say goodbye?
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Time passed quickly for Harm. He had things to do – preemptive things for the short term but not losing site of the long term. He had heard nothing more specific about the state of Lawson's affairs or the trusts for the boys, but there were rumblings in the Wall Street Journal that were some mis-dealings being uncovered at Lawson Enterprises. So Harm decided to nullify the Lawson effect.
First: The house. He found a small three-bedroom rental that he could afford near where Bud and Harriet lived. The boys had no issue moving except to ask where Hailey was going to sleep. Out of the mouths of babes.
Second: Health Care. He changed his status from Navy Retired to Reserve and got health insurance for the boys though the VA. He didn't need to change his status, but he liked the idea of wearing a uniform again if only for a weekend a month and two weeks a year.
Third: Education. He started two college savings plans. It wouldn't pay for Harvard, Yale or Stanford, but they would go to college.
Finally: The agency. By mid-August it had closed it's doors. They had transferred all the active cases to other firms and found the employees and volunteers other positions. Harriet was disappointed and tried to take some of the blame, saying that she could have – should have done more to raise funds, but Harm would not let her. Chloe stuck around for a few more weeks, she had fallen in summer love with an engineering student from CalPoly. They each would be heading back to school just after labor day, and wanted to spend the last few weeks together.
Harm took Kate Mendelson up on her offer. His salary nearly tripled (the only advantage to working in the private sector). The work was less than satisfying but there was plenty of it. He was biding his time; he could handle it. As much as all the moves he was making were proactive, he felt the loss of the agency deeply. Where would those children go now? Who would advocate for them? He discussed it at length with Mac on several occasions, but there was really no way to soothe his guilt or sense of failure. She did what she could with a phone line – just that she was there at the other end was enough for him.
Those last phone calls of the day became his private joy. When all else was quiet and they each could focus on nothing else, they talked about what was happening in their respective days – it was almost like being there. He was careful about what he shared with Mac – not the 'what' so much as the 'how'. They were too far apart, he couldn't afford for her to get the wrong impression. There was a concern that Mac might see all these changes as him carving out a future for himself and his boys without her and Hailey. He couldn't let her think that. Nor could he let her think that he was "allowing for her" or "expecting" her to pick up and move 3000 miles as if that was expected of her – the woman.
He also did not feel right soliciting her advice. What should she say? Logic and reason said that he and his kids needed a place to live, and he needed a job. How simple? Mac had a house big enough for all of them, and god knows a lawyer could find work in fifteen minutes in Washington. SO? Move east. Move in together? Case closed. It was not that easy. She, he and the kids were not ready to make that move - east or west. On the other hand, he couldn't put his life on hold waiting for Lawson's shoes to drop leaving him caught short. Nor could he wait for that 'magical mystery date' when Mac would be ready to move forward and discuss the options before them. He could not put pressure on her to make a decision before she was ready. She was dealing with a heck of a lot more than he was. He could give her the time she needed as long as she was there at the end of the line. So it was one day at a time, one step at a time, one crisis at a time, one phone call at a time. That was how he got through those two months.
Linda was still in the hospital by late August. Charges had still not been filed. Lawson Enterprises was frozen and more was surfacing daily. He had stayed up with the case and now that Mac was out of the area, he could deal with Watson, as he wanted to. Then he received this message on his voicemail:
"Harm, It's Linda. I need to see you. I didn't kill him, Harm. Please help me."
That message he did not share with Mac. Why? Because of the 'what' and because there was no 'how' to tell her.
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For Mac, her life resumed its normal pace - temporarily. At first the only difference was her long distance bill and every night the last words she heard were Harm's wish for pleasant dreams. That only lasted a few weeks. Due to budgetary constraints, the legal division at Quantico was cut in half. Most of the senior staff was diverted to various other bases. She was sent back to JAG HQ – a final gift from her CO. She wanted to think it was like going home again, but the only people she recognized were Turner and Coates. The admiral in charge of the division, Admiral C. Wendy Strickland, was not impressed with Mac's credentials and was not interested in treating her like the return of the conquering hero. Mac was given low-level grunt work, which she was used to from Quantico. Strickland was also not impressed that Mac was a single mother and asked for latitude in her schedule. Strickland had raised four boys almost entirely by herself while continuing to advance her career. Mac was not impressed with her new boss either. All in all it was not a welcome home. But if Mac had learned something in her life, it was that few things were permanent – either good or bad.
She dealt with the return to JAG quite well. Somehow just knowing that that Harm was back in her life gave her hope for a better future – walking around the old offices with all the old memories (even the not so good ones) actually made her feel closer to Harm, and made the work tolerable. Moving would not be so bad, she thought. Yes, she loved her house, but San Diego had very nice weather. She would be working with Bud again. It would be nice for her kids – sorry, her daughter and Harm's sons - to grow up with AJ, Jimmy and Cassia like one big happy extended family. The more she heard about the things Harm was doing, the more she liked the idea. California or Bust. But first things first – the divorce.
Mac received a call from her attorney the day after Labor Day asking about the divorce papers. Apparently Alan had not signed them or at least had not returned them. Mac was at a loss. He had demanded that she file, agreed with everything she outlined and that was the last they had discussed of it. He was working in Omaha Nebraska. They had spoken on a number of occasions, but always about Hailey and very limited personal news. She made the call.
"Alan, it's Mac."
"Mac, what's up?" He was rushing out the door, she could tell by his voice.
"Got a call from my attorney, she has not received the signed papers yet."
"No, I suppose she hasn't," he was short and cold. "Since they are still sitting in my inbox."
"Is there some reason for the hold up?"
"You in a hurry to get rid of me so you can hook up with your FLYBOY?"
"Excuse me?"
"I know all about 'Uncle Harm' – you should coach Hailey better if you want to keep your secrets."
"There is no secret, Alan."
"The only thing I really want to know when you two hooked back up – or did you never stop seeing him?"
"You don't know what you are talking about."
"No, I don't. I guess I also don't know that I was a replacement for him when he dumped you last time? And I will never know if you called him first when our baby died. Was it even OUR baby?"
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" She was LIVID. Apparently Alan had learned to fight nastily.
"Mac, I have to go."
"Alan, are you going to sign the papers?"
"I'll think about it and get back to you," he hung up. Mac wasn't going to hold her breath. She also wasn't going to report this little news flash to Harm, at least not yet. She would talk to Alan again first. That was the best way to go, right?
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Weeks went by – as they have a habit of doing. One night, in mid-September, Harm and Mac's 'nightly phone call' did not end so well.
"Kicked some serious Turner butt today in court." Mac started.
"You love it when you can best him, don't you."
"He is so arrogant. He makes you look humble."
"Wow. That is saying something."
"What about next weekend, are you going to make it back?" she asked.
"Not sure, Kate dumped this huge case in my lap – lots of contracts to sift through. I think she is trying to keep me busy."
"I think she is trying to keep you close to her."
"Jealous?"
"Of a woman – a very sexy woman – who gets to spend everyday with you and give you orders? Why would you think that?"
"You know Kate doesn't do a thing for me."
"I know you dated for a while."
"One dinner - a very long time ago – does not constitute "dating" – and there was a good reason it ended."
"Oh?"
"She hated my cooking," he laughed.
"Bet she has a different story."
"She could have a whole library, I am a one woman man, and you – Ms. Green-Eyed Marine – are it."
She laughed and drew up a silly girly voice. "Oh Harm, you say the sweetest things."
"I'd like to do more than that."
"So you are thinking next weekend is out?"
"Not going to say NO just yet. But between the case load at work, the boys and helping Linda's lawyer -."
The audible gasp was heard on both coasts with or without the phone line. What the hell was Harm doing dealing with Linda or her lawyer? This is news.
"Linda's lawyer?" Mac was immediately rigid and cold.
Harm played it loose. "Yeah. They charged her. I told you."
"You knew they would and no you didn't 'tell me'."
"I thought for sure I had."
"No – for sure – you didn't. When did you decide to join the defense team?"
"Mac, come on."
"Have you spoken to Linda? Seen her?"
"Yeah," he paused. He was backed against the wall now. "Once or twice."
There was brief silence as her anger built. She was waiting for him to continue. When she was sure he was not, "And how is the ex-Mrs. Rabb?"
"Mac, don't go there."
"It is too late now, Harm. You opened this can of worms."
Harm forced his irritation down. "It is nothing. She called and said that she didn't do it and asked for my help. I referred her a lawyer I know and am looking into it a little. It's no big deal." That little tag line was a mistake. He knew it was a big deal or else he would have told her about it before.
"No big deal? Your ex-wife – mother of your children – is going on trial for murder and you say it is no big deal. In fact it is so little a deal you didn't feel the need to tell me about it."
Take the offensive Rabb; a good offense is the best defense. "Was I supposed to ask for your permission?"
"Bad strategy, counselor. You tell me about what the boys ate for breakfast, about the new house, about the boss who flirts with you, but you don't tell about this?"
"I didn't want to burden you with it."
"So you lied to protect me?" She laughed and shook her head. "We have been here before, haven't we?"
"It's really not like that."
"Did you move her into the house too?"
"Mac – come on – stop it. I didn't tell you because I thought it would upset you. I guess I wasn't wrong."
"Be clear about what I am UPSET about. And 'upset' is not the right way to describe what I am feeling. I'm confused and hurt. Not about her, but that you didn't tell me."
"Don't be confused or hurt," he sighed. He was wrong and he knew it. "I'm sorry, it's just that you are dealing with so much of your own stuff: being back at JAG, taking care of Hailey by yourself, going through a divorce -."
"The divorce is stalled," she stated clearly to stop his mealy mouthed defense.
"What?"
"Alan has not signed the papers and is not willing to give me a date when he will."
"Really? And how long have you known about that little land mine?"
"About as long as you and Linda have been on speaking terms again."
"One has nothing to do with the other. You lied to me."
"A lie of omission."
"And mine was?"
"Fine. We were both wrong."
"Can we talk about this?"
"Not right now we can't."
"Sarah, please."
When he called her 'Sarah' her heart melted. She couldn't afford to let it melt. "Goodnight Harm. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"I don't want this conversation to end like this."
"The conversation is not ended, I am just very tired and need some sleep. We will continue at another time."
"Please, Mac."
"Goodnight, Harm."
After a long moment where he debated whether or not to push the issue, he chose not to. "Goodnight."
She did not wait for their standard sign off; she just hung up.
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As you can imagine, Harm had a lot of frustration built up in him. It was also three hours earlier for him. He thought about working out, running, calling her back. He sat down and spent the next five hours writing her an email – draft after draft until he came up with the following:
To: Sarah Mackenzie mac1397(at)comcast(dot)net
Subject: Last Night
Date: Thursday, September 20, 2008
From: Harmon Rabb TheHammer1224(at)earthlink(dot)net
My Dearest Sarah,
I was very uncomfortable with the way we ended our conversation tonight. Since all we have these days are phones, faxes and e-mails, I don't feel I can let a one 'bad one' go by without addressing it. If you were here, or I was there, we would not have ended our day on such a sour note. Of course, if we were within a hundred miles of each other, there would have been no misunderstandings – no lies of omission. But until then, we have to make do.
When I think to call you - the hundred or so times a day that I do - it is to tell you something good, or nice or funny – or just to hear your voice. There is so much I want to say to you – hear from you. But when we finally get on the phone, most of what I find us discussing seems to add to the burden of the 'time and distance' we live with. The situation with Linda - and after I gave myself time to think about it - Alan, would have more than added to the burden but I should have told you. I am sorry I didn't and I understand why you didn't tell me. Never been good at communicating with you. But I am trying; you have to know that I am really trying.
As I sit here now, I ask myself how in the world are we to balance our two separate lives and still come out together in the end? I say we, because it will take effort on both our sides to work through the big things and not to get caught up in the silly stuff. I will promise you to make that effort for our cause. Will you do the same?
What is our cause, you ask? TBD. I can tell you what I am thinking though.
Let me start by making a few declarative statements that everything else – for me – hinges on. (You would laugh if you saw me right now. Apparently it is not only my tongue that gets tied when it comes to this kind of stuff. Good thing this is e-mail and you will never know how long, or how many drafts I went through to get this much.)
First and foremost, I want us to have a future together. Am I sure what that future will look like or when it will be? No, but I do have some ideas. All I know for sure is that we each have one, and I want me to be in yours, and you to be in mine.
Secondly, my children are a priority in life, as I am sure Hailey is in yours. Please know that I want the same health and happiness for Hailey as I do for my boys. Now comes the 'however.' The children are a priority, however they are not the only priority nor are their wants, desires and wishes put above everything else. Our children cannot possibly be happy if we ourselves are not. Would I prefer that there was no uprooting of homes, schools, friends, family for either of us? Would I prefer that there were no ex-spouses to confuse them? Yes, but I also know that the 'normal' home does not ensure a 'normal' childhood or a 'normal' base from which to grow. I also know that while our childhoods were quite different, neither one was ideal, yet we both turned out OK. It took me a little longer to grow up than it did you, but I made it. Our kids will know love regardless of any amount of drama that comes their way; they will turn out OK too.
As for all the changes I have made in my life over the past several months; please know that nothing is irreversible and nothing is set in stone. While I am not biding my time waiting for some unknown date in the future to arrive when all will be free and clear and we can actually discuss what a future for us might look like, I am not ruling it out. I understand you have responsibilities that you need to attend to, as do I. This whole EX business is testing my paper-thin patience, but I will hold it together as long as I know that you want the same thing in the end.
I was asked the other day if I could turn back time, what point would I go back to in my life and restart. I didn't know how to answer. There were so many defining moments: my father's death, the ramp strike, being out on Sydney Harbor with you on a star filled night – to name only a few. I guess the question is moot; we can't go back in time and do it all over again. We can't go back with the foreknowledge of our current history (that is almost poetic). The more I thought about it the more irritated I became. I am who I am today because of those events and the choices I made. If I don't like where I am, I don't want to spend my life looking back regretting, I want to look forward and make better choices into the future. I want to make better choices with you.
I just reread this letter and I can't help but think that it is dry and business like. Hand to God, Sarah, my intention was to tell you that I love you, I miss you, I trust you and I need you. That hanging up in anger or even irritation is not good. To tell you that my bed is cold without you but my dreams are filled with hope for the first time in years. I promise I will not keep things from you – for any reason.
I need to see you. If you will have me, I will be there next weekend, come hell or high water.
I must get some sleep now, and you will be waking up soon. I hope you had pleasant dreams. Have a good day. I will talk to you soon.
My love always,
Harm
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Mac normally didn't check her personal e-mail in the mornings; there were always too many other things to do. But that morning, after the rotten night sleep she had, she had a feeling that she should. Three pieces of spam (wow, only three, the blockers must be working), two notifications from her bank, a funny chain letter from Harriet and one from TheHammer1224 with a subject line of "Last Night". Her first thought was to not open it. He was probably going to blast her for lying to him and pretty close to hanging up on him. She sucked it up and opened it. She read it through once, and then again, and then a third time. It was amazing that even in an e-mail he was still able to say – rather imply – more than the actual words chosen. What was wrong with him that he couldn't just come out and say – in little words – in simple words - what he wanted? She read it one more time.
He wrote "my bed is cold without you but my dreams are filled with hope for the first time in years." How she knew that feeling well.
"I need to see you," she knew that one as well.
She needed to see him too – and a week was too long to wait. She printed it and got a move on.
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That morning, LATE morning, Harm, Kate and three law clerks were in the conference room. It was the only place they could spread out. They were sifting through what looked like three-dozen boxes looking for God knew what. Harm was engrossed in a file, when one of the clerks – one of the male clerks – hit him on the shoulder.
"Hey, Harm," he teased. "Who's the babe in uniform?"
Harm looked up at him confused.
"She must be looking for you - COMMANDER." The clerk nodded to the outer office.
Harm looked up over the pile of boxes and saw Mac talking to the secretary and being directed toward the conference room. He must have checked his e-mail fifteen times that morning hoping for some kind of response. The 'nothing' spoke volumes. He would have called her that night, but what in the world was she doing in his office? He was on his feet immediately – the file completely forgotten.
"Mac, is everything alright?"
"Fine," her eyes were a little cold. "Is there a place we can talk?"
Mac had gone through about seven different kinds of emotions that morning. The whole time she was making the arrangements to get there she never stopped to ask herself if she SHOULD be going. Then when she got on the plane she ran the gambit from anxious, to panic, to happy, to sad, to annoyed, to scared, to nervous. Right now she was mad. Why was she mad? She wasn't really – she just was feeling that way at the moment.
Harm directed her to his office and closed the door. The walls were thin and he had a window that looked out into the main office. There was little or no privacy.
"What the hell is this?" She threw the e-mail at him.
Harm was expecting almost any kind of response but that. He never expected her to fly out and confront him in person. To be honest, if the idea of her flying 3000 miles upon the receipt of that e-mail, he would have thought it would be to wrap her arms around him and say she felt the same way.
"What is the problem, Mac?"
''You are. How dare you send me something like this?"
"Alright, you are going to have to calm down and tell me what you found so damn offensive?"
"Don't you dare take that tone with me, Rabb. I just got off a plane. You owe me an explanation."
"Jeez, Mac. I wrote it in English. I thought you would know all the words. Guess I should have written it in Farsi."
"Stop it."
"Mac, tell me what the problem is."
"It's the same old story with you Harm. The same old issue I have always had with you. You can't just say what is on your mind. You dance around a subject and force everyone else to take the lead. I won't do it. I won't do it now, just like I didn't do it back four – five years ago."
"My God. I poured everything I had into this," he waved in the air. "I thought I was being very clear."
"Clear? You think it was clear?"
"It was in English with full sentences."
"English? That is a laugh. It was in Rabb-speak."
"What are you talking about?"
"Fine – clear? You say it was clear?" She grabbed the paper back from him but clearly didn't need to read from it. "And I quote 'I was very uncomfortable with the way we ended our conversation tonight.' Uncomfortable? What is that? Are you mad at me, mildly irritated, pissed off? What? What is 'uncomfortable'?"
"Are you sure you want to do this? Are you should you want to go through an edit and re-write that letter?" He was becoming very angry.
"I want to know what 'Our children cannot possibly be happy if we ourselves are not' means. Are you implying that we would be happy – how? When? Are we not happy now? What does that mean? I don't know what that means."
"Now you are just taking a position."
"Position? You want position? How about this; 'please know that nothing is irreversible and nothing is set in stone.' How is that for taking a position - NO WHERE? Nothing is irreversible – with your wife? With me? What? What is not irreversible? That means that nothing has changed. Shouldn't something have changed?"
"That is not what I meant."
"It's what you wrote. For Christ sake, Harm, you are a lawyer. You couldn't write a contract with more holes in it."
"I wasn't trying to write a contract – I wasn't trying to lock you down."
"What were you trying to do? What were you trying to say?"
Harm was just about to open his mouth but she stopped him.
"In plain simple words – so the rest of us can follow along."
"What are you expecting me to say Mac?"
"I have no idea – that is why I am here."
He shook his head.
"No phones, no e-mails, no kids to interrupt us. Just you and me. Say what you have to say."
The gauntlet she threw nearly took out his whole foot. He had to hold himself steady.
"I am here. I am listening."
"What Mac? What?" He was ready to let it all out. "Do you want me to say that I think about you 24 hours a day? That I can't concentrate because you are always on my mind? That every decision I make, I consider you and Hailey as well as my own kids? Do you want me to say that the distance between us is killing me and I live in constant fear that you are going to pull away from me – AGAIN?"
She did not respond but her anger was dissipating. As was said, she really wasn't angry.
He continued unchecked. "Do you want me to say that I want to marry you, raise our children together and maybe have a few more of our own? That I want to grow old with you? Is that what you want to hear?"
"Is that what you want to say?"
"Isn't that what I said?"
"Not in so many words."
"Fine – in so many words – I love you, Sarah MacKenzie. Marry me. Spend your life with me. Be a mother to my children and I will love Hailey as my own. Simple enough for you?" He looked cockily triumphant; guess he didn't realize he just laid all his cards out on the table. There was nothing else to play.
"Was that really so hard?" she smiled. "You couldn't have just said that? That was what? Twenty twenty-five words that said more than what you took all night and ten twelve paragraphs to not say."
He sighed, shook his head and leaned back to sit down on the desk. He wiped his face with his hands. "You are killing me Sarah. Absolutely killing me."
She took a step closer to him. "Why?"
"Every time I tried to bring the subject of marriage up with you, you pushed me away."
"No I didn't."
"Skillfully, decisively and with a ten foot pole."
She actually had and just owned it then.
"I didn't want to push it until I was sure you were ready to hear it."
"Don't you know? That is what ruined it for us so many years ago."
"There were so many things that ruined it for us years ago; I am still amazed that we are here right now. By all rights we should hate each other."
She took another step closer and put her hand on his arm. "I don't hate you, Harm."
"I know," he took her hand.
There was a commotion out in the main office. When they looked, they realized that they had gathered quite an audience.
They were all singing: "There you see her - Sitting there across the way - She don't got a lot to say -
But there's something about her - And you don't know why - But you're dying to try - You wanna kiss the girl."
Mac laughed. She knew the song well. Harm, however, was not a 'movie buff'. He looked back at her with a confused look on his face.
"The Little Mermaid? You can't tell me you have never seen it."
He shook his head.
The office staff kept singing. "Yes, you want her - Look at her, you know you do - Possible she wants you too - There is one way to ask her - It don't take a word - Not a single word - Go on and kiss the girl!"
He heard the last line and laughed. "Are they helping?"
"Guess not, you haven't kissed me yet."
He rectified that little oversight. The applause and cheers were deafening.
"You haven't answered my question," he whispered.
"I don't remember being asked anything."
He pulled back and looked in her eyes. "Will you marry me?"
Her eyes lighted from inside. "Well, I guess we need to talk about that, don't we?" She looked over her shoulder to the staff that was pretending to be back at work. "Can we go someplace a little more private?"
