Chapter 6
The Routine

Dinner in the Rabb-MacKenzie household was always chore. Little Harm wouldn't eat meat, while his younger sister Patty liked nothing better than greasy hamburger smoothened in ketchup. Preparing separate meals was a bother, but Mac felt that her children deserved as much of her time as she could give to them.

"Hamburger is dead cow. That's why Daddy and I won't eat meat," Little Harm told his sister.

"It is not dead cow," insisted Patricia MacKenzie Rabb, who had the same big brown eyes as her mother.

"Is so."

"Mommy, is hamburger from dead cows?" Patty asked.

Mac sighed. Her husband started this beef nonsense, but with Harm handling an investigation aboard the Seahawk, she was left to sort it out.

"Yes, Patty. Hamburger comes from cows, but those cows were raised to be our food."

"See, I told you," said Harmon Rabb III. The boy could flash the same smile as his father, a smile which could undo any wrong that he might commit.

Grandmother Trish Burnett had told Mac, "Dear god, he has the Rabb smile. There is no defense against it."

"Harm, would you like some more pasta salad?" Little Harm was tall for his age, but he seemed thin. Mac felt that her son didn't eat enough.

"No more for me. Thank you," answered the boy, who seemed on his way to becoming an officer and a gentleman.

"I'd like more hamburger, Mommy," said Patty.

Mac felt her daughter was a bit too plump and she tried to structure her meals accordingly. "You've had enough, sweetie."

"Fatty, Patty," teased Harm.

"Harmon, stop that this instant," snapped Mac. "I want you to apologize to your sister."

"I'm sorry, Patty."

"Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?" Patty asked.

"In a few more days. Right now he's on a big aircraft carrier where he's doing important work for the Admiral."

Mentioning the Admiral brought a hush to the table. So far as the Rabb children were concerned, A.J. Chegwidden wielded more power than the President of the United States.

"I'm going to the Naval Academy, just like Daddy and Grandpa Rabb, and the Admiral," Little Harm announced.

"Go ahead and be a squid," said Patty. "I'm going to be a Marine, like Mommy. And then I'm going shoot lots of guns, 'cause that's what Marines do, isn't it, Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie. You'll do plenty of shooting in the Corps."

"Well, I'm going to be an aviator like daddy, and grandpa, and great grandpa. You can't fly, because you're a girl," said Little Harm.

"I can too! There are lots of girl pilots, and some of them are famous."

"Name one," said Harm.

"Amanda Earnhardt."

"There is no such person."

"Mommy!"

"Sweetie, you are thinking of Amelia Earhart. And yes, there are female pilots who are Marines. You can become a pilot, but only if you study really hard and bring up your grades."

"I got all A's again," Little Harm said in a smug voice.

Before Patty could speak up, Mac said, "I want you both the clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher." Seeing no action, Mac snapped her fingers, which sounded like a rifle shot. "Jump to it!" and the kids moved with a purpose.

Mac was cleaning the table top when she heard the doorbell. When she answered to door, Mac was surprised to find Admiral Chegwidden with Lt. Bud Roberts.

"Admiral. Bud. What brings the two of you out here on a Sunday night?"

The kids raced out of the kitchen at the sound of the two officers names. "Hello Admiral. Hi, Uncle Bud," they said in unison.

The Admiral spoke up. "Sarah, I need to speak to you alone. Lt. Robert's, take the children upstairs."

It was clearly and order and not a request. A solemn faced Bud Roberts, who avoided looking directly at Mac, hustled the kids upstairs and into Little Harm's room.

A thoroughly confused Mac led the Admiral into the living room and then sat down next to him on the sofa.

Mac noticed that the Admiral appeared old and very tired. "I spoke with Harm this afternoon on one of the 'Sailor Phones' which the Navy Exchange Service installed aboard the Seahawk. The investigation is proceeding normally."

Chegwidden took a deep breath and finally said, "Sarah, there has been an accident. Harm is dead."

Mac didn't bat an eye. "That isn't possible. I told you that I spoke to him by phone today."

"It was a plane crash."

"Harm isn't due to leave the ship for three more days," Mac said matter of fact.

"Harm wasn't aboard the COD. An F-14 came out of intermediate maintenance. Captain Boone took the plane up for a check flight with Harm riding along in the backseat. There was a compressor stall and the plane went into a flat spin. It was unrecoverable. Boone punched them both out, but Harm's canopy malfunctioned. When the rescue swimmers reached him, Harm was tangled in the shroud lines of his parachute. They were unable to revive him in the helicopter. Harm drown."

"None of that is possible," said Mac. "When Captain Boone was a Top Gun instructor, he took Harm to baseball games. Captain Boone would never let anything bad happen to Harm."

"Tom Boone has a broken back, and may never walk again." Chegwidden looked at Mac's face and he saw a look of total denial. Nothing he had said to her had registered. "Sarah, is there someone that I can call who will come over and stay with you and the kids? Is there anyone at all?"

Mac had no family to speak of, and as far as Chegwidden knew she had no friends outside of JAG.

"We don't need anyone. I just need to talk to Harm."

Mac reached for her cell phone, and the Admiral took it away. "Please, Sarah. Don't do that."

"I need to call Harm!" and Mac grabbed for the phone.

Little Patty came running down the stairs with Bud in hot pursuit. "Mommy, I want some Juice."

"Go back up stairs with Uncle Bud," Mac demanded.

"But I want some juice."

"I told you to go back upstairs," Mac had shrieked, then she found herself wide awake and sitting upright in the bed of the La Jolla guest room.

Mac's heart was racing. She needed several seconds to calm down. Then, just to be sure, she slid out of bed and walked quietly down the hall to the study.

The door was unlocked and Mac cracked it open and peered inside the room. It was dark, but there was enough light for her to make out Harm's form sleeping on the mattress, and his size-13 feet sticking out from under the sheet.

To reassure herself that he was really there, Mac considered going into the room and climbing into bed next to Harm. Would he literally kick her out of bed? Thinking back to their most recent conversation, Mac wasn't sure that he wouldn't.

Mac softly closed the door, made her way back to the guest room to change into her running clothes. She wanted to get out of the house, but first she needed a cup of strong coffee.

Frank was already in the kitchen and dressed in blue Adidas warm ups and brewing a pot of coffee.

"Good morning, Mac," he said in a cheerful voice. "How about a cup of coffee?"

"I'd love one. Make it black, and I hope it's strong."

"My coffee strong enough to walk out of this house." Frank poured Mac a cup and motioned for her to join him at the kitchen table.

The coffee was just the tonic that Mac needed to clear the nightmare from her head. "I'm surprised to see you up this early."

"I go to bed early and get up early. By the time Trish climbs out of bed half the day has been wasted."

"Harm likes to sleep in, but I'm out of the rack by 0545," said Mac.

"I enjoy starting my day with a walk. Would you care to join me? Unless of course you don't want to be seen with an old man."

"There's no old man here," Mac insisted. "Frank, I'd love to join you, but I don't want to put you out of your routine."

"A break in my routine would be appreciated. Let the Rabb's get their beauty rest while the two of us get some exercise."

The early morning air was damp, but not cold. It was good weather for walking, and Frank set a fast pace.

As they moved through the Ellen Scripps Browning Park, Mac was concerned That Frank might be over doing it.

"My doctor keeps telling me not to do anything more strenuous than driving a golf cart, but I can keep this up for an hour," said Frank.

They made a loop along Coast Blvd and came back on Prospect. Mac was surprised by the number of people out walking on a Sunday morning, and she noticed that Frank was acknowledging many of them.

"You seem to be well known in these parts," Mac said.

"They're just wondering why I'm out walking with such a pretty young girl."

The Carlton Café was open, so the pair stopped in for breakfast. "This is my secret breakfast stop. Please don't tell Trish," Frank said.

"My lips are sealed," and they stepped inside.

With its red upholstery and lots of chrome, the café was slightly retro. Frank took what was his regular booth, and their server quickly appeared. She was a middle aged woman who looked somewhat matronly, and she had a friendly smile.

"Good morning, Kitty," said Frank.

"Good morning, Frank."

The familiarity in their voices made it obvious that she had worked in the café for many years. Kitty looked over at Mac and exclaimed, "Diane! Oh my goodness. I haven't seen you in ages. Are you in La Jolla to finally tie the knot with Harm?"

Mac bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

Frank quickly spoke up. "Kitty, this is Sarah MacKenzie. She's staying with us this week."

"I'm very sorry, but there certainly is a resemblance." Kitty handed the pair their menus, poured their coffee and then fled.

"I'm sorry about that," said Frank.

Diane is haunting me from the grave. She gave me that nightmare about Harm being dead.

"It's happened before." Mac began looking over the menu. "What do you recommend?"

"The corned beef hash is very good."

"My father was a Marine. He wouldn't allow hash to be served in his house. I'll have the ham steak with scrambled eggs...hard scrambled."

Kitty approached the booth cautiously to refill the coffee. She spoke directly to Frank, while avoiding eye contact with Mac. "Have you decided what you'd like?"

"Two orders of ham and eggs, hard scrambled," said Frank.

"Coming right up," and Kitty made a quick exit.

"She seems to be afraid of me," said Mac.

"Kitty's daughter, Tina, and Harm went to school together. Kitty imagined something would happen between the two of them, but Harm didn't date much in school. Harm met Diane at Annapolis, and you know that story." Looking to change the subject, Frank now said, "So, your father was a Marine?"

"Staff Sergeant Joe MacKenzie. 3rd Platoon, Company B, 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marines."

"Did he serve in Vietnam?"

"He did two tours, one in 1965 and another in 1967. His last tour was cut short when he was seriously wounded on Hill 861 during what became known as The Hill Fights. He was sent stateside and after he recovered, he was placed on the Permanent Disability Retired List."

"He must have been a great Marine."

Mac held up her hand. "Don't make my father out to be a hero. He beat my mother so badly, and so often, that she ran away. My father is a miserable drunk, and he's the reason that I'm a drunk. I haven't seen him in years, and I don't plan to change that."

Frank gently took Mac's hand and said, "You and I will never speak of him again."

Their breakfasts arrived and they were huge. By the time Kitty cleared the table, Mac was stuffed.

"I don't know how I'll manage to eat lunch at the gallery this afternoon."

"Not to worry. Trish's overpriced caterer specializes in tiny servings. I'm just glad that you are going with her. I can't stand those gallery affairs."

"Yes, but the two of you have so much fun doing other things together. Just think of all of the traveling the two of you have done, and the cruises you've taken together."

Frank nodded in agreement. "It's been a great life with Trish. And despite our early ups and downs, It's been a great life with Harm."

Kitty came to the table and set the check down beside Frank. She looked at Mac and said, "Sarah, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm very sorry."

"It is quite alright." Mac pulled out her coin purse, unfolded a few bills and then reached for the check. "As your guest, let me buy your breakfast."

Frank wouldn't hear of it.

"Mac, you're not staying with us as our guest. Trish and I think of you as our..." Frank remembered Trish insisting that there be no meddling in Harm's personal life. "Let me say that Trish and I will never know what really took place inside Russia, but we know your being there with Harm made a difference. The two of us can never repay you for that."

"Spending this coming week with both of you is repayment enough."

Frank looked at his watch. "We should head back. The Rabb's will be up and moving by now. Hopefully we can squeeze in a few more walks before you and Harm leave."

"Just try to get out of the house in the morning without me."

When Frank smiled at Mac, it was the kind of smile that a young Sarah MacKenzie imagined her own father giving her...but never did.

"I received straight A's this semester, Daddy," Sarah told her father who was laying on the couch half-drunk when she came home from high school.

"Why does a little tramp like you need an education? You won't amount to anything."

"I am not a tramp!" insisted Sarah, who was still a virgin.

"Bullshit. I'm surprised that you're not already knocked up. I only hope that the guy who does it won't be as stupid as I was with your mother and marry you. Now do something useful. Bring me a beer, and then rub my feet."

"I don't give a damn about your feet, and you can hoist your drunk ass of off the couch and get your own beer!"

Sarah ran to her room while her father shouted after her. "You're a worthless tramp, just like your mother. Did you hear me, Sarah? You're a worthless little tramp!"

Frank set a $50 bill onto the table. As he and Mac headed for the door, Kitty called out, "Goodbye, Frank. It was nice to meet you, Sarah. I hope that you'll come back again."

Of course I'll come back. I want to be a part of this family so badly, but what do I have to do for Harm to allow me in?


Harm had showered and shaved, and then slipped into his Academy warm ups before heading to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Darling."

"Good morning, Mom." Harm gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before reaching for the coffee pot.

"I wouldn't drink that," Trish cautioned. "Frank brewed it, and you know how strong he makes it. I'll brew a fresh pot."

"Don't bother. I'll have some herbal tea."

"Sit down at the table and I'll bring it to you. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Yogurt and fresh fruit would be fine."

Trish went to the refrigerator and removed a large dish of plain yogurt, which she set down in front of Harm along with a bowl and a spoon. She moved to the counter, reached into a paper bag and removed a juicy pear, which was one of her son's favorite fruits.

Trish was slicing the pear when Harm spoke up. "I can do that myself."

"It's no trouble."

Patricia Rabb Burnett adored her son, and Harmon Rabb Jr. worshiped the ground that his mother walked on.

The kettle began whistling. Trish prepared the tea and after slicing a second pear for Harm, she sat at the table next to him. "I want to talk to you about Sarah."

"Grandma?"

Trish scowled at her son. "No, Harmon. Not your grandmother. I want to talk to you about Mac. The two of us had a long talk last night."

Harm's felt an ache in the pit of his stomach.

Trish and Frank had first met Mac at a party hosted by Porter Webb, the mother of Clayton Webb. Frank and Trish decided that Mac was exactly the right woman for Harm. Frank had never made it a secret, but until now, Trish had never been this direct.

"Is there something wrong with Mac?" Harm asked in mock concern.

Trish heaved a sigh. When it came to discussing anything serious, Harm was exactly like his father, who seldom addressed personal matters head on.

"As I said, Sarah and I talked last night." Before Trish could continue, the sliding glass door opened and Frank and Mac stepped into the kitchen.

Harm jumped to his feet. "Frank, Mac, it's good to see both of you. You must have gone out for a walk. Sit down at the table and tell me all about it."

While Frank and Mac described their morning walk, Trish sat by quietly and wondered what the future held for her son, and how she could ensure that Sarah MacKenzie would be part of it.