RESIDENCE OF FRANK BURNETT
LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA
Harm looks at the place he had lived in in the latter years of his childhood, a magnificent home located in the La Jolla neighborhood of San Diego, overrlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was only a short drive here along San Diego Freeway from Mac's apartment. Memories briefly surface. Mac holds his hand as they walk into the house, pushing Mattie along.
Harm rings the doorbell, and a man in his late sixties opens the door.
"Harm," says Frank Burnett, Harm's stepfather.
"Hi Frank," says Harm. "How are you doing?"
"Terrible," says the older man. "I..I can't believe this is happening."
"I'm sorry for your loss," says Mac.
"Trish waa my best friend. I've known her for thirty years."
"Hi, Frank," says Mattie.
"Hi, Mattie," replies Frank. "Good to see you again."
"We should step inside," says Harm.
All of them step inside the house.
"Well, Mattie," says Frank. "This is where Trish and I lived together."
"Nice place," says Mattie. She looks around the place. The living room is nicely furnished, with a white carpet and matching sofas and couches and a matching fireplace. She can glimpse the kitchen, noticing the white countertop on the stand-alone kitchen counter. She had never been here before. The only time she met Harm's mother Trish was when Trish and Frank flew to London to visit her and Harm. The teenage girl had spoken to Trish about Harm and Harm's father. And now Trish is gone.
There is eerie silence for a few minutes. Then Mac breaks the silence.
"What happened?" asks the Marine lieutenant colonel.
"Trish was shopping for a dress to wear to your wedding," says Frank. "She was with some friends. She went in to try on the dress. One of her friends- I think her name was Nancy- found her slumped against the wall. The..the paramedics took her to the hospital, but it was already too late. God, this can't be right."
Harm sits on the white couch, his head resting against his hands. He had not felt like this since that trip to Russia where he finally found out what had happened to his father. For a minute he wonders if his whole life was just a dream, that he will wake up, five years old, with his mother and father standing beside him.
oooooooooooooo
1930 ZULU
Frank pours himself some scotch. He imbibes the drink. Memories of happier times with Trish surface, alternating with the unwanted memories of receiving that fateful call from Mission Bay Memorial Hospital and driving there and talking to the emergency room doctors.
"What are you having?" asks Harm.
"Some scotch," replies Frank. "You know, I was calling for some funeral homes."
"Have any funeral arrangements planned?"
"No. This whole thing came all of a sudden."
"I'd like to help. Mom was an MIA widow; I am sure there's something I can do, being a captain in the Navy and all. Listen, if you need anything, I'll be there."
"Thanks, Harm. I really appreciate it." Frank looks at his forty-one-year-old stepson. The whole issue of Harm's father being missing in action put an obstacle into their relationship. Harm could never accept him as a father figure as long as he was uncertain whether or not his father was still alive. Now Frank is the closest living next-of-kin Harm has now, at least until the wedding.
He and Trish had been looking forward to Harm's wedding since they learned of the engagement in May, the same time Harm moved to London to take his assignment. Now Trish will not be there, not be there for the mother-son dance. A feeling of emptiness creeps over his very soul.
oooooooooooo
0240 ZULU
MAC'S APARTMENT
The door opens as Mac is heating some Stouffer's frozen lasagna in her Kenmore microwave oven in the kitchen.
"Hi there," she says to Harm as her fiance enters the apartment's living room.
"I was helping Frank make the funeral arrangements," says the Navy captain.
"I'm cooking lasagna in the microwave for us and Mattie," she says.
"I went to the Mission Bay Hospital where my mom was promounced dead. The doctors told me she died of a cerebral hemmorhage. The blood leaked out from a tiny hole as small as a head of a pin. Something so small could..."
Mac does not say anything.
ooooooooooo
0315 ZULU
Harm dials the telephone for Mattie and then places a special headset on her head.
"Hello?" asks a male voice.
"Dad," saysd Mattie. "You're home."
"I'm tired and I was just about to get some sleep," says Mattie's father Tom. "What time is it over there?"
"Uh, 7:15."
"I thought London was ahead of us."
"I'm in San Diego with Harm and his fiance Sarah."
"On vacation?" asks Tom.
"Harm's mother died two days ago," repl;ies Mattie.
"Oh. Did you know her?"
"She and her husband- Harm's stepfather - flew to London to visit him and me. Her name was Trish. She was very nice."
"Can I talk to Harm?"
"Sure, Dad. Harm, my dad wants to talk to you."
Harm places the headset on his head. "Tom, how are you doing?" he asks.
"Still trying to rebuild my life," replies Tom. "Mattie told me about your mom. You have my condolences."
"Thanks, Tom. I'm working with my stepdad to make the funeral arrangements."
"I know this is hard for you. It was hard for Mattie when her mother died."
"What about your parents?"
"My parents are both alive and well. I guess none of us could be truly ready."
"My mom was selecting a dress she was gonna wear to my wedding next year," says Harm. It was a cerebral hemmorhage. Without warning. No way to survive. Could happen to anyone."
"I kinda understand."
"By the way, Mattie's therapy is continuing," says Harm, changing the subject. "Her spinal cord wasn't severed, only bruised. She could recover the ability to walk sometime next year."
"it could have been worse, I suppose."
"Goodbye, Tom." Harm then looks at Mattie. "Want to talk to your dad some more?" he asks.
"I could talk to him later," says Mattie. Then she looks at Harm, and remembers what he had just been through and why she is even here in his fiance's apartment.
Harm places the headset on her head.
oooooooooooooo
0630 ZULU
Harm lies in bed. He ponders the circumstances of his mother's death.
She died so suddenly. And it can happen to him at anytime without any warning. He could die of the same thing the next second.
He does not get much sleep this night.
oooooooooooooooo
0100 ZULU
CLAIREMONT MORTUARY
4266 MT. ABERNATHY AVENUE
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA
Clairemont Mortuary is located on Mt. Abernathy Avenue in San Diego, near Balboa Avenue and the Genesee Plaza. Trish Burnett had been brought here from Mission Bay Memorial Hospital, her body lying in state in one of the viewing rooms. She looks so peaceful.
Her family and friends gather here to pay their respects, some of them coming from the other side of the country. They pay their condolences to Frank and Harm.
Hasrm takes one more look at his mother, the mother he had known all of his life. He recalls his earliest years with her. He recalls the day when she told him that his father is missing, and her explaining the details when he was about ten years old. He recalls her wedding with Frank Burnett and her attempts to get him to accept Frank as family. He wonders if there is anything more he could have said to her, if he told her he loved her enough times.
Just a few feet away, Frank sits at one of the wooden pews. He remembers his first meeting with Trish, spending time with her and her son, hearing about her missing husband who had been shot down over North Vietnam on Christmas Eve 1968. He married her and did his best to be a father figure to Harm. Now he is, for the time being, Harm's next-of-kin. Trish was his best friend and best lover. Things will never be the same.
"Rabb," someone says.
Harm looks and sees a man in a crew neck jersey. He had met him on and off over the years, since his years at the U.S. Naval Academy.
"Crane," he says. "what are you doing here?"
"It's Admiral Crane, Captain," says Bruce Crane. "Alkthough you can call me Bruce since we're out of uniform."
"Okay, Bruce."
"I heard about your mom, Harm. I have a pretty high post in the Navy's San Diego area operations. I can get your mom a military burial."
"Thanks," says Harm. "So you made admiral, right?"
"Rear admiral lower half. I was promoted back in June."
"Who is this?" asks Mac.
"Rear Admiral Bruce Crane," says Crane. "U.S. Navy. I was Harm's drill instructor during his plebe summer in Annapolis."
"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackeznie, U.S. Marine Corps. And Harm's fiance."
"Congratulations you two," says the Navy admiral.
"Hi there," says Frank. "I'm Frank Burnett. Trish's husband and Harm's stepfather."
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," says Crane.
"And I'm Mattie," says Mattie. "Harm's my legal guardian."
Crane looks at the girl sitting in the wheelchair. "I'm sure it's a long story, miss."
oooooooooooooo
1740 ZULU
RESIDENCE OF FRANK BURNETT
LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA
"You ready, Frank?" asks Harm, clad in his white summer uniform.
"At least I fit in this still," replies Frank, clad in Marine dress blues, the rank insignia identifying him as a staff sergeant. He salutes his stepson, who returns the salute. "Let's do this."
ooooooooooooo
1800 ZULU
Trish is buried just four days after her death. The pallbearers, U.S. Navy officers clad in Navy whites, carry the coffin to her grave. They are followed by a Navy chaplain in his chaplain garments.
A whole crowd gathers around the coffin as the chaplain makes his speech.
Then one of the Navy officers plays taps. The crowd places their hands over their hearts, except for Harm, Frank, Mac, and others in uniform, who salute.
Above them, a group of F-4 Phantom hets fly overhead. One of them breaks formation.
Then the coffin is lowered into the six-foot-deep hole. The memories of Trish are not so easily buried, and everyone in the crowd would agree.
"It's so hard to say goodbye," says Frank after the funeral is over. "I'm sure your dad's taking care of her."
"I know," says Harm, taking his first step towards moving on with his life.