A/N: Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Happy Holiday to all! Here is the final chapter of A Season for Love. There will be an epilouge, but this is the final part of the body of the story. We thank you all, readers, reviewers from the bottom of our hearts. God bless, Snugglebug and She'sAShipper.
Home of Christopher Rabb
Fredericksburg, VA
December 18, 2029
1809 ZULU
In a small Fredericksburg apartment, Christopher Rabb was eating a pizza out of the box when his phone rang.
"This is Chris," he said, chewing as he spoke.
"Chris, how many times did Mom tell you not to answer the phone with your mouth full?" Mark scolded. "By the way, it's your brother."
"I figured," he said, swallowing the bite in his mouth and taking another just for spite. "What's up?"
"Mom and Dad want you to come home for Christmas," Mark told him. "And I have a plan to make this Dad's best Christmas since a really long time."
"Mom and I already had this talk" said Chris. "I'm not coming; I don't want to see him like that, Mark. I just don't."
"You want to see Dad again ever?" Mark asked him.
"Is dad dying?" asked Chris in a sudden panic.
"Not today," Mark replied. "And Mom doesn't know a thing about this."
"What's going on, Mark?" asked Chris, abandoning his pizza in order to pay full attention.
"Dad was diagnosed as being in heart failure a few days ago," Mark replied. "It could be okay, he could be just fine...but he might not be and this is an unpredictable condition."
Chris flopped down into his satellite chair in front of his television, and stared at the blank screen. "Whoa."
"I can't do this Chris," Mark sighed. "I had to go over there and calm Mom down and get Dad out of bed to the doctors' and I can't do this by myself. I live four hours away, you are an hour. Shelby is out of the country, Nikki is a girl and I can't do this. I'm not Dad!"
"But you are," said Chris, his tone nothing but encouraging. "You're so much like dad it's scary. I'm nothing like him, but you...you look like him and think and sound like him. If anyone can handle this, it's you, Mark. I'll do what I can, I'll try to anyway, but not because I think you can't do it."
"Okay, then I need you to be home on Christmas," Mark sighed. "We're all getting older having our own lives and with the diagnosis so close to Christmas, and his MS in relapse and he's worried about Mom, you need to be there on Christmas. Please."
There was a long silence. "I...I just can't. I can't." His voice softened and cracked.
"Why not?" Mark pushed. "Talk to me. It's me, your big brother."
"I hate this," said Chris. "I hate that I even have to think about whether or not I can go home for Christmas and see my sick father. I hate it."
"So do I, but more so I hate that you have to think about seeing your sick father," Mark replied. "You should think about seeing your father."
"I wish I could separate the two," said Chris. "You can, and you do it so well, but I can't seem to do it. What's your secret?"
"Its simple," Mark sighed. "You see a person with an illness and I see a person that didn't care if I had an illness. That didn't care when I broke my nose and coated his dress whites in blood, who didn't care when I got drunk and cracked up the Vette we just fixed up. I see the person who loved us no matter what, that's the man who wants us with him for the holidays."
"I wanna be there, Mark," said Chris. "I do, I just don't think I can handle it, and that makes me feel terrible, but it's just the way it is. You must think I'm the worst son and brother ever, huh?"
"No," Mark replied. "But okay, here's a deal. You come with us Christmas Eve; I want us all to surprise Dad when he gets home from the Wall. If being there for some eggnog, carols, Mom's gingerbread, and the Night Before Christmas, bothers you, you don't have to come Christmas Day." Mark's tone was firm.
Another long silence. "Okay. You win, I'll go on the 24th, but don't count on seeing me the next morning. I don't think I can manage it two days in a row."
"Good then call Dad, not Mom, and tell him you aren't coming home at all on Christmas," Mark told him.
"Won't that upset him?" asked Chris.
"Yes it will," Mark replied. "But it will only add to his joy when all of us are in the living room Christmas Eve when he and Mom get back from the wall."
"I see..." said Chris, a smile gracing his face as his brother's plan sunk in."Okay, I'll call him soon, and I know, not a word to Mom."
"She doesn't know about his heart, it will crush her," Mark warned.
"Understood," said Chris. "You know, it's really great of you to do this for them. I'm being a self-centered jerk, but you're not. That's really something special, and I hope you know that."
"I get that from him," Mark sighed. "See you in a week."
"I'll be there," he said. "I promise."
Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb
Dahlgren, VA
December 18, 2029
2129 ZULU
Harm had spent over an hour working on wrapping Mac's gifts. It was a challenge for him with only one completely cooperative hand, but he was determined to get it done no matter how long it took. He'd managed to get the books wrapped without much difficulty, same with the new handbag, but the porcelain doll was a different story.
It was gorgeous; 18 inches tall and dressed in pale green with curly brunette locks spilling out from beneath a feathery hat. Mac had seen her in the window of a little collectibles shop downtown in the early Fall, and had commented on how pretty she was. She'd also said she always wanted a doll like that when she was a little girl, something delicate and beautiful, but never got one. At that moment, Harm knew what one of the Christmas gifts would be.
"Harm!" Mac called. "Harm, honey, are you down here?" she asked descending to the basement.
"Don't come down!" he called up. "I'm wrapping your presents!"
"I'm all ready down," she said and turned the corner. "And since when did wrapping on my presents mean anything?" she asked.
"Since I've spent over an hour doing it," he answered with a little smile.
Mac laughed, "Don't tell me you've forgotten old man?"
"Oh, no" he laughed. "No, there may be things I've forgotten, but that's not one of them."
December 25, 2006
1409 ZULU
Mac, Harm and their kids, 5 year olds Mark and Nikki and two year old Shelby sat in front of their tree and opened their gifts. The children had since opened all of theirs and sat playing amidst the wrapping paper. Harm and Mac had opened the gifts from their children, but now worked on the ones they'd given to each other. Mac had opened all of hers and Harm was wondering if he'd forgotten the pair of jeans he'd bought her and hid with the rest of he gifts. He had one package left and gingerly worked on opening the paper. Inside the wrapping were the jeans he'd bought Mac, with a note in her hand "These do not fit. Please buy the next size, Love, Your Wife."
He looked up at her, eyes big as saucers. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Oh, I found those in the hall closet last week. I tried them on and they don't fit," she said matter of factly.
"Tried them on?" he asked. "Mac, they were wrapped!"
"I know," she sighed. "They were for me, right? Unless you address someone else as Mrs. Claus."
"Mac!" he said. "They...they were wrapped! For crying out loud!"
She bit her lip, "Are you mad?"
He sat in stunned silence for a few moments. "I'm...I'm not mad, but I can't believe you did that!"
She leaned over and placed a sensual kiss on his lips, "I do a lot of things you can't believe. But you love me anyway."
He took a deep breath. "I do, yes. I'm really not happy about this, though. I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Its jeans Harm," Mac sighed. "I told you I wanted them and what size two months ago. No harm done."
"Still," he said. "It's not nice to ruin a surprise, no matter how big or small."
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Kiss and make up?"
He smiled just a touch and leaned in for a kiss. "Next year..." he said, pointing a finger at her in loving jest. "Next year..."
December 18, 2029
2114 ZULU
"And I did," he said. "I got you so good that next year."
"I know," Mac laughed. "A box of charcoal and nothing else for two whole days! You were in such trouble," she laughed.
"It was worth it," he replied, eyes shining as he spoke. "The look on your face when you opened that box...I've never seen anything that funny since."
"Me neither," Mac replied. "I came to see what you wanted to eat for dinner."
He thought for a moment. "Spaghetti?"
"Just spaghetti?" she asked.
"Spaghetti and a salad, maybe?" he offered.
"Okay," Mac smiled. "It'll be ready in a few. I love you."
Harm finally managed to get the doll wrapped, and he made his way upstairs for dinner. As he closed the basement door behind himself, Mac was standing in front of the stove stirring the sauce. Nothing special or extravagant about what she was doing, but she looked so beautiful doing it. He saw her as beautiful as the day they'd fallen in love; time had done nothing to diminish that in his eyes.
"Hey," he said softly as he stood back and stared at her.
"Hi," Mac said turned to look over her shoulder. "Harm, what's wrong?"
He didn't answer her; instead he walked towards her and took her hand.
"Harm, Harm, what's wrong, what are you doing?" she asked, straining back to turn off the jet under the sauce and water.
Still, he remained silent, leading her gently towards the stairs.
Taking his time, retaining his hold on her hand, he led the way to their bedroom, all the while silent. She questioned him, and his only answer came in the form of a tender kiss as he gently eased her onto the bed.
"Harm, what are you doing?" she asked as he leaned down over her.
He looked directly at her. "You look as beautiful to me now as you did the first time I laid eyes on you."
"Your eyesight must be going," she teased. "Seriously, in the middle of the day?"
"Since when does the clock have anything to do with this?" he asked with a smile,
"Since we've turned fifty," she replied.
"Well, to me age doesn't matter," he said as he went in for another kiss.
Mac stopped her talking and leaned into his kiss, opening her lips underneath his and letting him deepen the kiss.
"I love you so much," he whispered, breaking the kiss just long enough to get those few words out.
"I love you too," Mac replied letting her hands roam his broad back, before coming around to undo his shirt and slip it off his shoulder. "Oh...Oh..." She moaned as his lips traveled behind her earlobe.
She could still give him goose bumps with her little ooh's and aah's; she always could. He moved from behind her earlobe to the nape of her neck, another place he knew she loved attention.
Mac shuttered as he worked on that part of her body and moved her own lips to work on that part of his chest that was directly above her mouth. She nibbled on the skin there.
He took in a sharp breath at the feeling. "I like that," he said softly.
"I know," Mac replied. "Can you touch me where I like it?" she asked.
Always one to oblige, he ran his hands over her breasts, taking time and care as he'd always done. After a couple moments, he made short work of her clothing before joining their bodies as one.
Once their bodies were joined and they moved in a rhythm long established by love and tenderness Mac with her husband still inside her began to cry.
"Hey, hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
She nodded swallowing the lump in her throat, "It's just that I've been so worried about you and..."
"Oh, sweetheart," he soothed, touching her cheek. "I'm okay, I am."
"It's just, you've been so weak and tired and sleeping so much," she sniffled. "And this is so nice. So nice."
"Then let's not ruin it by being sad, okay," he whispered. "I'm okay and you're okay, let's just be here and be in love."
"I'm not sad," Mac whimpered. "I'm so happy you seem to be you again. I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm not."
"But are you happy?" he asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.
She nodded, "I'm so happy," she whispered. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he replied, kissing her lips ever-so-softly.
They lay together snuggled up until Mac dozed off to sleep.
December 18, 2029
2348 ZULU
Harm left her there, burrowed beneath the blankets, and he got up to go finish with dinner so it would be ready when she awakened. As he reached the kitchen, the phone rang.
"Hello, son," he said after picking up the receiver and seeing the name on the display.
"Hi, Dad," Chris said hesitantly. "How are you?"
"Good, good," answered Harm. "Just finishing making dinner while your mom rests a bit."
"Mom is resting?" Chris asked. "Is she sick?"
"No, no, she's fine," he said. "Just a little sleepy is all; she gets that way sometimes in the evening. How are you?"
"Good um, I'm calling about uh, Christmas," Chris said.
"Oh yeah?" asked Harm.
"Yeah, I um, I'm not going to be able to make it," he said softly.
Harm's heart fell into his stomach. "Wh...What do you mean you can't make it?"
"I, um, I can't do it," he replied. "I promised to work at the hospice. Many of the guys have families and I don't so..."
"You have a family, Chris," said Harm, his voice low and sad. "A wife and children aren't the only definition of family."
"I know, but Christmas is really for the kids," he replied. "I hope you understand."
"No, I don't understand!" exclaimed Harm. "I don't understand why my kids don't want to spend the Holidays - Thanksgiving or Christmas - with their parents anymore! It's me isn't it?"
"Dad, no," Chris said. "Don't get all excited. It's bad for you're..." He caught himself. Mark would kill him.
"I'm not excited," defended Harm. "I'm hurt and I'm upset!"
"I'm not doing it to hurt you," Chris argued back, his father's mood getting his goat.
Harm calmed considerably from that point on. "Look, son," he said. "I...I know the hurt isn't intentional, but its there anyway and I just wish I could have all my kids together for Christmas, that's all."
"Well, I suggest then you talk to some of the other kids," Chris told him. "Mark isn't coming either. Neither is Shelby."
Harm fought back the urge to cry. "I see."
"And I'm not so sure about Nikki either," he replied. "She might be going to London to see Shelby."
Harm took a steadying breath. "Well, if she is, I guess Mom and I can have another quiet day. That'll be okay; we'll be okay."
"Yeah, you will," Chris replied smiling to himself. "Well, I have to get going. I have to be at work."
"That's okay, sure," said Harm. "Thanks for calling, son. I'm...I'm glad you did."
"Well, Merry Christmas," Chris said, then hung up the phone.
Harm sighed, and went to the living room to sit for awhile in his chair. He felt like all the joy of the season was gone, and he missed the jubilation he once knew when it came to anticipating Christmas day. None of his kids would be there this year, and while Thanksgiving had been nice in its own way, he'd been looking forward to Christmas with everyone, and now that had been taken away.
Mac woke from her nap and made her way downstairs, she saw Harm sitting in his chair and came over to him, "You look like someone took your balloon."
"They're not coming," he said softly.
"What's not coming?" she asked.
"Our kids," he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. "They're not coming."
"Not..." Mac gasped. "Are you sure?"
Harm broke down and sobbed for just a moment, then pulled himself together. "Chris called; he said no one is coming."
Mac instead of putting her arms around him, was overcome with anger, "I'll be right back. You just rest there," she told him and moved off to the phone.
He watched her walk away as his pain once again brought tears.
Mac lifted the phone receiver and dialed her son's number, but not Chris'. Mark's.
"Hello," Mark said when he heard his phone.
"I thought we had an understanding!" she said. "I thought you knew how important it was for everyone to be here for Christmas!"
"Mom, Mom, calm down," Mark urged. "Calm down."
"Do you have any idea how upset your father is right now?" she asked.
"Not really, Dad is a puzzle," he replied.
"Well, that 'puzzle' is missing a piece right out of the center of his heart right now!" said Mac. "Chris called and told him none of you are coming home, and he's crushed."
"I know Mom," Mark sighed. "Will you calm down please?"
"I'm trying," she said, taking a deep breath. "What do you have to say about this?"
"I have it all planned out," he told her. "We, the other kids and I, we will be there for Christmas Eve, only about two hours ahead of the usual time while you and Daddy are at the Wall."
"I'm listening," she said.
"It's a surprise, we're going to tell him we can't come then show up and be sitting all around the tree when you and Dad get back. Cookies, hot cocoa, everything all ready," Mark explained. "We want to boost his spirits and Dad loves surprises."
Mac smiled. "He does. I'm sorry I was so worried; I should have known you were behind something like this."
"How bad is he?" Mark asked feeling a pang of sharp guilt.
"Pretty bad," she admitted. "But knowing what you're all up to, I can soothe the hurt fairly well. This is a really special thing to do, son. I'm proud of you, of all of you."
"Thanks Mom," Mark said, then worrying about his father's heart he said, "Mom, make him lie down okay?"
"I will, sweetie," she said. "And I love you, too."
Mark hung up and Mac made her way back to Harm who was still battling with tears.
"It's all right Sweetheart," Mac soothed and sat down on his knee. "It's all right."
"I wish they were coming," he said as he wiped away a tear.
"So do I," Mac whispered. "But we'll have a nice romantic day, just you and I."
"But Christmas is supposed to be about family" he said sadly. "I miss the way it used to be. I don't feel very well right now."
"What's wrong?" she asked with concern. "Tell me."
"I'm kind of tired," he said. "I think I'll rest a little while; dinner will keep for a bit, right?"
"Sure," Mac replied. "Are you sure you're just tired? You seem a bit winded."
He was winded, he just hadn't noticed. "The crying, I suppose."
Mac nodded, "Let me take you up okay?" she asked worried taking his cold hand. "Your hands are cold."
"It's December," he said. "They're supposed to be cold."
Mac nodded, "Come on now," she said leading him up the steps. "Let's get up in a warm bed."
"I'll be okay, Mac" he said gently. "I'm sad right now, but I'll be okay."
She was quiet until they got him upstairs. It was all he could do to hide his breathlessness.
"I've got it from here, my love," he said as he climbed slowly into the bed.
"No, no," Mac shook her head. "You tell me what will make you comfortable."
"Just my pillows and blankets," he answered his voice weak.
"Harm, are you sure you're all right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied, eyes already closed.
Mac fussed with his blankets and pillows, hearing his breathing. She shook her head and returned to the kitchen.
Harm's health stayed at its poor level for a few days, until one morning when Mac's knee pain was so bad she could barely get out of bed. It was the day before Christmas Eve. Harm noticed her groan when she stirred.
For the remainder of the day, he did get up and help her and tend to her and realized that if he paced himself he'd be just fine. It was only when he pushed or got too excited he had a problem. Before they knew it, that day was over, and it was Christmas Eve.
December 24, 2029
2143 ZULU
"That looks amazing," said Harm as he leaned over Mac's shoulder while she cooked.
"It's your recipe," she replied. "And I made gingerbread too."
"I thought I smelled gingerbread," he said with a huge smile.
"Yep," Mac replied. "Grandma Sarah's recipe."
"I've had that every Christmas for as long as I can remember," he said. "Same goes for our kids; you've been making it since the twins were old enough to make a mess with it all over their high chairs."
"Mark used to only eat the heads," Mac laughed. "You ready to go to the Wall soon? Or you not up to it?"
"I'm up to it," he assured her. "We'll go right after dinner."
Mac turned around and held him close, "I love you...So much. So, so much."
"And I love you, too" he said, kissing the top of her head.
They sat down, just the two of them, to a quiet and simple dinner at the kitchen table. Usually their Christmas Eve meal was eaten at the dining room table with all the extra leaves added on to make room for their precious family. This year, there was no need. They made idle conversation, Mac knowing Harm was hurting, but also knowing things were about to take a very big turn for the better. The kids would be there when they returned from The Wall, and she couldn't wait to see the look on her husband's face when he saw them
They spent some time at the Wall, Harm talked to his father then taking Mac's hand they walked back to the car and drove the long ride home.
December 25, 2029
0151 ZULU
Their house was dark when they pulled up and Harm sighed, "Ready for bed, Mrs. Rabb?" he asked nuzzling her neck.
"Oh, not just yet," she said. "I'm ready for some of that gingerbread."
Mac slipped the key in the lock and hit the light switch on the side next to the door. "Surprise!" the Rabb children exclaimed as Jimmy and Johnny bounded for their beloved "Gampa."
Harm was speechless. His mouth hung open as he took in the scene around him.
Mark and Jenna standing arm in arm near the tree, Nikki and Shelby in the kitchen pouring eggnog into cups, Chris hiding a bit off to the side with Phil and his little grandsons at his feet. On his chair sat their old worn copy of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" a book that Mac's Uncle Matt had given them when the twins were young.
He turned to his wife. "You knew about this, didn't you?"
"Not at first, but I called and Mark had set it all up," she replied and beamed at their oldest son.
Harm looked as well in Mark's direction. "I should have known," he said. "I should have known."
Mark walked up to his father and hugged him tight, "Merry Christmas, Dad."
Harm held his son tight, knowing he wasn't a child anymore, but also knowing he'd always be his child. "This is so great," he whispered. "It's so great."
Jimmy and Johnny were tired of being ignored by their beloved "Gampa", so they both let their displeasure be known in the form of loud wails.
"Oh, hey now," said Harm, releasing his embrace around Mark and kneeling down to hug the little boys. "See, I didn't forget about you two."
In his embrace they quieted immediately snuggling until Mac drew their attention with two gingerbread cookies. That gave Nikki her chance, "Merry Christmas, Daddy."
"Merry Christmas, Nik," he said, remembering the first time he held her in his arms, how happy he'd been; how proud. She's become an amazingly beautiful young woman, looking every bit the picture of so many Rabb women before her.
Shelby came next, the only one to favor his mom, with dark eyes, hair and skin, "Hello, Dad."
Harm pulled his close. "I've missed you, son. I've really missed you."
"I missed you too," he replied. "Both of you."
"I don't know how you got here" said Harm, beaming with happiness. "I'm sure glad you did, though."
"I flew in and Chris got me," Shelby looked at the reluctant brother who shyly and remorsefully stepped over. He didn't say anything, just bit his lip and hugged Harm with such force he tottered a bit until he brought his arms around his youngest in a soft paternal way.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Chris whispered softly against his father's chest.
"You had me going, son," he said. "If medicine hadn't worked out, you could've made it in the theatre."
"Not about that," Chris sighed. "Not about that."
In that instant, Harm realized that Chris knew about the news from the doctor, and that he was keeping it to himself, just as Mark had asked. Tightening his hold around the younger man's shoulders, Harm stood silently, knowing that what was on his heart and mind was being understood without a single spoken word.
"I love you, Dad," he told him pulling back. "So how about we eat and tear into those gifts?"
Harm could only nod, knowing if he tried to speak, he'd dissolve into tears.
Seeing how emotional his father was going to be very shortly, Chris motioned for the family to all go into the living room. He was touched that the surprise had been so spectacular; the look on his father's face was priceless, though not half as priceless as the joy everyone knew was in his heart.
Mac swept in to rescue her son, "Isn't it wonderful, Sweetheart. We're sorry for the pain you've been through but I think the glow on your face is worth it."
"I don't believe it," beamed Harm. "I thought no one was coming, and here they are, all of them..."
"How about you go sit in your chair and relax, Dad," Mark told him. "We all have some gifts we want you to have."
With his smile still at full wattage, Harm sat down in his chair. "I don't need gifts; having my kids and grandkids here is more than enough of a gift, you know?"
"Well we got some anyway, Jimmy, Johnny, get Grandpa his presents," Mark instructed. Jimmy obeyed but Johnny hid behind Jenna and didn't move.
"Hey sport," said Harm, peeking around Jenna to look at the tyke. "Come help Grandpa open his presents, okay?"
Johnny slowly peaked out around his mom's legs and then toddled towards Harm and nuzzled on his leg. Too many people for the shier twin.
Harm picked Johnny up and held in on his lap. "Let's see what's in here," he said as Jimmy dragged a package over and left it at Harm's feet.
Johnny reached down and pulled the bow off the top of the box, and then to everyone's surprise started in on the paper. Within moments, he had the wrapping undone, and looked to his Grandpa to lift off the lid.
Harm lifted the lid and inside was a fairly good sized throw blanket with a computer imposed image of Jimmy and Johnny's Christmas photograph. Jimmy pointed to his image and announced, "Jimmy!"
"That's right!" exclaimed Harm, holding the blanket up for all to see. "This is great," he said to Mark and Jenna. "I'll cherish it forever, it's just...wow..."
"Where's mine?" Mac asked with a laugh.
"Coming up," said Mark, motioning to Jimmy to get his grandma's gift from beneath the tree. He knew which one it was, the red bag with the big white ribbon on it, and he carefully brought it to Mac.
"Wonder what's in there?" asked Harm to Johnny, still sitting in his lap.
Mac worked on the tissue paper and unearthed a pretty Lenox picture frame with her grandson's picture in it as well as a glass tree ornament that said Grandma Sarah 2026 Jimmy and Johnny and had one of their Santa pictures on it. "I love it," she smiled.
The family spent the next half an hour opening gifts to and from one another. There were sweaters and ties, books and movies, cookies and candy; the usual Christmas fare. After the commotion had settled once more, it was Nikki's turn to give Harm a gift.
"Here you go, Daddy," she said, handing him a small box with a pale green bow on top.
"Thank you, Nik," he said, taking the box and carefully removing the ribbon. "This is pretty small, I have no idea what it might be."
"Just open it," she urged and reached for Phil's hand, tearing up as she watched her father open the gift and pull out the tiny photograph.
He stared at it intently before looking up with watery eyes. "I haven't seen one of these in ages," he said. "But I'll never forget the feeling."
"Daddy," Nikki said softly. "That's your grandchild."
He nodded gently. "I know, sweetheart. No gift could be more precious. I'm so happy for you both."
Nikki stepped forward and hugged her father, "I love you Daddy, and Phil and I have decided if this baby is a boy, we'd like to name him Harmon."
His smile lit up the room more than the tree and the candles put together. "That means a lot, more than you could ever know."
"We love you, Daddy," Nikki told him. "Now," she sighed. "I'm going to help Mom get everyone cocoa and cookies then you can read to us. The book is there," she pointed.
With refreshments in hand, everyone gathered around Harm's chair as he read "Twas the Night Before Christmas", the same story he'd been reading to them since they were babies. The little ones sat in awe as the older ones sat close and snuggled, Harm's deep soothing voice telling the age old tale. When he finished, the family migrated to the kitchen for more of Mac's special gingerbread and some hot apple cider, all except for Harm and his eldest son.
"I feel good" he said. "Today was...I can't even put it into words. There's something we have to think about, though, given..."
Mark nodded, "Just tell me."
Harm took a deep breath. "This, you know, this might be my last Christmas, and I want to take a moment and talk to you about it, about carrying on for me."
"Dad, I don't want to talk about this," Mark said. "You can be treated...You'll be fine."
"Mark, we have to talk about it," he said gently. "I need to know that you understand how important it is for me that the family traditions remain intact after I'm gone."
"I do," Mark replied. "I know...and I'll do it for you, but Dad please don't talk this way. It's Christmas Eve."
"I know," he said. "But I need for you to have something." He reached around to the Christmas tree and pulled down an ornament. "Here, this belongs to you, son."
"What is...Dad, this is the ornament Grandpa Harmon gave you before..." Mark paused and swallowed. "I can't accept this."
"Please, Mark?" asked Harm softly. "I know you don't want me getting all morbid like this on Christmas Eve, but I honestly can't think of a better time for me to give this to you, to pass along the torch. Your grandfather went missing on this night so many years ago, and that makes it mean even more; makes tonight even more poignant in our family's history. Tonight's the night I need to give you this."
With one lone tear escaping, Mark took the snowman and put it in his bag, He rose and moved to embrace his father, "I'll do you proud Dad."
"You always have," said Harm, matching his son's tear with one of his own. "You always have"