[A/N-1] We will cover a lot of ground in this chapter. I want to thank minimindbender for graciously allowing me the use of a plot device. Thank you, Doc. I greatly admire your writing, and I love your stories.


Chapter 9
From Dawn Till Dusk

After making up the sofa bed and tidying up the study, Harm had a few hours to kill before meeting Frank for lunch. It was a beautiful afternoon, so he decided to go for a swim.

Harm kept several swimsuits inside the pool house. After changing, he showered off before going into the pool, just as he had been told to do as a little boy.

The was shining and since pool was heated year round, there was no need to check the temperature of the water. Harm jumped right in.

Harm was an excellent swimmer. He was tall with a long arms, and he had large hands and big feet; perfect for propelling himself through the water. Harm could have made his high school varsity swim team, but the Naval Academy's athletic requirements were easily satisfied by participation in two varsity sports. Harm found baseball and basketball more to his liking.

The pool was large for a residential property. After swimming twenty laps, Harm had to admit that giving up cigars had helped his endurance, abet slightly.

Harm swam another twenty laps and then relaxed in the shallow end of the pool.

As he rested, Harm thought back to the Summer of 1983; the year that his Academy friends had stayed with him at the house.

Jack Keeter was a terrible swimmer. Despite his best efforts, Keeter always sank to the bottom of the pool, which delighted Sturgis Turner no end.

"I thought all of you white guys could swim like a fish."

"Keeter swims like a fish...a stone fish!" said Luke Pendry.

Everyone exploded in laughter, including Keeter, who didn't mind a joke at his expense.

Diane Schonke was sitting on the edge of the pool and wearing a red one-piece swimsuit. Dangling her perfectly toned legs into the water, Diane motioned Harm to come closer.

As Harm approached her, Diane began kicking water at him.

Harm quickly pulled Diane off the edge and into the pool. Diane screamed and began a mock battle, playfully hitting Harm on the chest, much to the satisfaction of the boys who began cheering her on.

Just when it appeared that Diane would prevail, Harm grabbed her firmly around the waist and they both disappeared under the water. They broke the surface in an embrace and then shared a long kiss, much to the dissatisfaction of the others who began a chorus of boos and began splashing the couple savagely.

The noise became loud enough to bring Harm's mother out of the house. The presence of a four star admiral could not have brought on such silence.

"What on Earth is going on out here?" demanded Trish, who stood at the edge of the pool with her hands firmly on her hips.

When Trish saw Diane with her legs wrapped tightly around Harm's waist she tossed the girl a scowl, which Diane shrugged off.

"Dinner will be served in one hour," Trish announced. "Wet swimwear is not allowed inside the house. You'll find dry clothes in the pool house. After changing, place your wet swimsuits and your towels in the pool house washing machine."

"Yes, Mrs. Burnett," the boys said in unison, while Diane smirked at Trish.

Trish spun on her heels and walked back into the kitchen where Frank was taking a platter of marinated chicken outside to the grill.

"I want Diane Schonke out of this house. Drive her to a hotel...or drop her on the other side of the border," Trish demanded.

"Calm down," said Frank. He set the chicken on the counter and began nibbling on one of the deviled eggs Trish had prepared. "Diane's a nice girl. All of Harm's friends are nice, especially Keeter. He's a riot."

"You never take my side."

"Who's taking sides?" Frank reached for another deviled egg, but Trish slapped his hand. "Ouch."

"Diane is wrong for Harm. He can do better."

"For god sake, when Harm wasn't dating anyone in high school you sat up nights worrying that he was gay. Now that he has a girlfriend, she's not good enough for you."

"Diane is manipulative. She has Harm wrapped around her little finger."

"You're jealous. You're afraid that Diane is going to take Harm away from you."

"That is not true. It's just that Harm is impressionable, and god only knows how many men Diane's been with."

"This is 1983. It's a new world. And don't sell your son short with the ladies."

Trish scowled at the comment. "I only want what's best for Harm."

Frank took Trish in his arms. "I know that. You raised him alone for a lot of years, and you've become so used to taking care of him that now you can't stop. Sweetheart, when the time comes, the Navy won't let you ride in the backseat of Harm's F-14. You have to let go. For his sake, and your own."

"I'll try," Trish promised.

When Harm and his friends came into the house, everyone had changed into gym shorts and t-shirts. All except Diane, who strolled in while still wearing her wet swimsuit.

"You didn't expect me to change in front of the boys, did you Trish?" Diane said in a sarcastic tone.

Trish gave the girl and icy stare. "My name is Mrs. Burnett." Trish turned to Harm. "Harmon, bring your classmate a towel," and her son raced to the linen closet.

Harm snapped back to reality. Luke and Diane were dead, Sturgis was in a fast attack sub; god knew where, and he hadn't spoken with Keeter or Bruce Carmichael in months.

That Summer vacation seemed like nothing more than a dream.

After finishing his swim, Harm showered and shaved. Then he looked through the closet in the study where he maintained a wardrobe.

The Club had a strict dress code: a blazer or sports coat before dusk, and a suit and tie in the evening. Harm didn't mind dressing up, so he selected a black Kenneth Cole tailored suit with a black Calvin Klein dress shirt, a navy blue silk tie, and a pair of Churches English dress shoes with matching belt.

Harm gave his shoes a quick buff and then went into the kitchen to leave a note on the refrigerator door for his mother:

'I'll be at the Club. I will keep an eye on Frank and try to be home by 1730. I hope that you and Mac had a nice afternoon. Love, Harm.'


Sunday, 11October, 1998
1400 PDT
La Jolla Country Club
La Jolla, CA

After finishing 18 holes of golf, Frank Burnett and Dr. Max Shapiro stopped at the "19th Hole" for a bit of refreshment.

"Gin and tonic," said Max.

Frank sighed. "I'll have an Arnold Palmer."

"Are you on the wagon, Frank?"

"I have a doctors appointment tomorrow morning. I'll have a cocktail with lunch."

"Is your stepson going to join us?"

"Harm will be here at 3."

"Is Harm still unmarried? My youngest daughter, Rachel..."

"Give it a rest, Max." Frank tried to choke down his mixture of iced tea and lemonade but gave up. "Lets head in and clean up. The water coming out of the shower will taste better than this drink."


Sunday, 11 October, 1998
1455 PDT
La Jolla Country Club
La Jolla, CA

Harmon Rabb maneuvered his rental car through the club's parking lot and found a space next to Frank's Chrysler New Yorker Fifth Avenue. Frank loved big powerful cars, and Harm's Chrysler 300 looked like a compact when parked next to the New Yorker.

The La Jolla Country Club was established in 1927 and sat on a bluff which commanded an impressive view of the Pacific Ocean. The Club's Jewel Dinning Room was private and limited to members and their guests. "Harmon Rabb, for Frank Burnett's party," Harm told the maƮtre d.

"Welcome, Mister Rabb. Mister Burnett's party has been seated. Come right this way."

Frank and Dr. Shapiro, and their friend David Thorndike, who they called Thorny, were seated in their favorite booth which had an unobstructed view of the golf course and the Pacific Ocean.

Frank was half way through a martini and excited to see him Harm. "Sit down, Harm. You remember Max and Thorny."

Harm remembered them. His mother referred to the pair as being Frank's cronies. "It's good to see you again, Doctor. You too, Mister Thorndike.

"It's good to see you again Harm, and call me Max," said the Doctor.

David Thorndike was a big man, and he was loud. "You're looking damned good, Harm. How is the Navy treating you? Hell, my taxes alone should have set you up in a god damned palace."

"Everything in the Navy is going along fine, or it was the last time the Secretary of the Navy and I chatted."

A waiter arrived to take Harm's drink order.

"An Old Fashion. Not too sweet."

"Right away, sir."

When Harm's drink arrived, the conversation had turned to the things that men always talk about: sports and politics. Harm didn't follow any of the local teams, and being in the military he was conditioned to keep his political views to himself. Harm sipped his cocktail and listened quietly while the three men drone on.

This was a lifestyle that Harm had been offered, but he wouldn't accept.

The Club was magnificent, but he didn't feel comfortable here. Shooting hoops on a hanger deck, or eating a burger at a steel beach picnic on a carrier were things that he enjoyed. A round of golf at the Club, followed by a fancy lunch didn't interest him in the least.


1630 PDT
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA

Mac carefully removed the pearls and then placed them inside the blue jewelry case. Trish had insisted that she hold onto the pearls, and she wanted Mac to wear them as often as she liked.

The pearls were magnificent, but even purchased in Hong Kong they must have been ruinously expensive on a junior officers pay.

Mac pictured Harm Senior and Tom Boone going in and out of shops along Nathan Street, with Big Harm searching for the perfect gift for his pretty young wife.

"Look at these pearls, Tom. Trish will love them."

Boone gave a low whistle. "Remember, buddy, it's Lieutenant Rabb, and not Admiral Rabb. We get $714 a month, plus $110 Flight Pay, and $65 Hostile Fire Pay. Those white marbles will put a big dent in your paycheck."

"I've got money squirreled away. Trish deserves them. After all, being a Navy wife isn't easy."

"You're lucky to have her."

"I know it. I just hope that you'll find someone like Trish."

"Maybe someday I will," said Boone.

Mac sighed. She liked nice things, but she didn't expect them. While growing up, Sarah MacKenzie seldom received gifts; just clothes for school and an occasional pair of new shoes. After Sarah's mother left home and her father began drinking more heavily, money at the house became even tighter.

Sarah need an after school job, but she didn't have the temperament to be a waitress, and lacked the people-skills to be a sales girl.

To earn extra money, Sarah and her friend Eddie cleaned houses.

"You'll clean up after strangers, but you leave this place a mess," Joe MacKenzie snapped.

"It was clean when I left for school. The house would stay clean if you'd pick up after yourself."

"I'm 100% disabled. Grenade fragments in both legs."

"Save that sob story for the VA. I'll bet that you spent the entire day on the couch."

"My feet started to swell up this afternoon."

"The reason that your feet are swollen is because of your drinking. You won't lift a finger around the house. Just once I'd like you to treat me as a daughter and not as your servant."

"You've been nothing but a disappointment to me. You're worthless, and you'll never amount to anything."

"You're one to talk. You just lay around drunk all day."

"Who is calling who a drunk? Someone is drinking that vodka in the kitchen cabinet, and it's not me."

"I hate you," Sarah spat.

"Look in the mirror, Sarah. That's who you hate, you sanctimonious little slut."

Sarah stormed out of the house while her father screamed after her. "That's right. Run to your boyfriend and let him bang you. You're a whore, Sarah! Just like your whore mother!"

Mac began to tremble. As she fought back the tears, she remembered that Harm was taking her somewhere special tonight. She focused on that in order to calm herself down.


The lunch served at the gallery wasn't filling, so after showering, Mac decided to head into the kitchen to find some chow.

Mac came into the kitchen and saw that Trish was seated at the table and was watching television.

"In an unusual late Sunday session, The U.S. Senate voted 66-34 to continue funding for the U.S. Embassy in Vietnam based on Hanoi's ongoing cooperation on the POW/MIA issue. In light of continuing good relations, Caterpillar Inc. authorized a dealership in Vietnam, the first American business in Vietnam since the end of the War. This is Chuck DePalma, ZNN."

"Quite a change of events in the last 13 years," said Mac.

Trish switched off the set. "I suppose this has to happen, although I see nothing good coming from our being involved with Vietnam. Are you hungry, dear? Can I get you something to eat?"

"I was thinking of having a sandwich."

"How about ham and Swiss on rye?"

"That would be wonderful. I can make it."

"Nonsense. Sit down at the table while I'll prepare it. Would you liked it grilled?"

Trish is the ultimate mother.

"No thank you, but I do like plenty of mustard."

"I'll have it ready in a jiffy."

"Seeing the news about Vietnam makes me wonder about Harm's trip to look for his father. What happened on that trip?"

"I didn't accompany my son, so don't know much about it." Trish's voice was short, which Mac understood to mean that Trish knew more than she was willing to share. "Now that we know that Big Harm was KIA, that trip was a waste of time."

Trish set the sandwich and a bottle of mineral water down in front of Mac. "Would you like coleslaw or a pickle with your sandwich?"

"No, thank you. Trish, I'm sorry if what I said upset you."

"The boys will be home soon. Frank is always tired after golf, so I'll need to lay out his things. Hopefully he didn't drink too much at lunch. The spa is fully booked for tomorrow, so we must leave the house at 1000 sharp to make our appointment. If you'd like more to eat, please help yourself." Trish walked out of the kitchen and went into the master suite.

This was the first time that Mac had seen Harm's mother upset. Trish was a wonderfully kind woman, but she had a serious side- perhaps a bit standoffish. It was a trait which Mac had recognized in Harm.

Mac was eating her sandwich when Harm and Frank walked into the kitchen. "Home is the sailor," Mac told Harm, who looked amazing in his fitted black suit.

"The ship pours shining on the quay. The plunder of the world." Harm snatched away Mac's sandwich, took a bite and frowned. "Ugh. Too much mustard."

Frank looked tired. "How was the gallery, Mac?"

"Trish and I had a wonderful afternoon. The gallery is amazing," replied Mac, who left out the job offer.

"That's great. I'm a bit worn down, so I'm going in and relax. Are we still on for our morning walk?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"That's my girl," and Frank headed for the master suite.

"I love your suit, Harm. Will you wear it tomorrow night when we go to dinner with Frank and Trish?"

"You want me to wear the same suit twice in a row?"

"It will compliment my dress."

"What dress are you wearing?"

"One which will compliment your suit," Mac deadpanned.

Harm groaned. "Spoken like a true jarhead. It's no wonder that the Marine Corps is a cult."

"What else did you do today?"

"I spoke with my grandmother this morning. She wants to meet you."

"Sweet Sarah wants to meet me?"

"Sweet is open to interpretation. Grams is not your 'rocking chair'-type grandmother. Sarah Harmon Rabb speaks her mind, and she has an opinion about everyone and everything."

"I like her already."

"I told her that we'd visit the farm later this month. If you'd like, we could fly there in Sarah. I can set her down on the property."

"No gun-play this time?"

"Not if I can help it." Harm looked at the wall clock. "Sunset is at around 1830-"

"1821," Mac corrected.

"Let's head out at 1845. We'll be doing a bit of hiking, so wear comfortable clothes and sturdy shoes, and don't forget a jacket."

"It sounds like fun."

"Can you brew a pot of coffee to take along? not too strong." There was a thermos in the cabinet above the range and next to Frank's emergency oxygen system. Harm set the thermos on the kitchen counter. "I'm going to take a shower," and Mac began brewing a pot of very strong coffee.


It had been a long day, and although Frank Burnett hated to admit it, he was tired. Frank showered and then put on his pajamas. Even at such an early hour, he was ready for bed.

When Frank walked into the bedroom, Trish was sitting in their king size bed and glancing through an art magazine. Frank sighed. Trish normally did her evening reading in her office. When Frank slid into bed he knew that something was up.

"I want to talk to you about Sarah," Trish said.

"How is everything on the farm in Pennsylvania?"

Trish reached across the bed and slapped Frank with the magazine. "Not Sarah Rabb, I'm talking about Sarah MacKenzie."

"Oh, Mac. It's great having her here. I can't say that about Harm's more recent girlfriends, except for Annie. She was high-strung, but nice. And I liked Josh."

"That relationship wasn't healthy. Harm being involved with his dead friend's wife, and then spending all of that time with her son." Trish thought back to Tom Boone spending so many evenings at her old house. "It was just wrong."

"I did like Diane."

"That little witch was the worst of the bunch."

"Don't speak ill of the dead."

"Then let's get back to Sarah. This afternoon I offered her the chance to manage the gallery, but she turned it down."

"I'm not surprised. Mac has better options than babysitting that crew of screwball artists."

"They're not screwballs. Although like all artists, they are a bit eccentric. I offered Sarah the gallery because when she and Harm are married it would give her a wonderful career."

Frank sat straight up. "That's putting the cart before the horse. Have you chatted with our son about this arranged marriage?"

"I was trying to discuss it with Harm this morning at breakfast, that is until you came barging into the kitchen and began talking endlessly about your morning walk."

"Pardon me, but you're the one who has always insisted that we not interfere in Harm's personal life."

"I feel differently now."

"I had liked Mac from the start, but Harm and I had a nice talk on the patio the other night and we buried the hatchet. He apologized for giving me the cold shoulder for all those years and things are going nicely between us. I don't want to risk rocking the boat."

"There's little risk of that."

"That's easy for you to say. Harm worships you. I adore Mac, but at this stage of my life I need Harm to be my son more than I need a daughter in law."

Trish ignored every word her husband had said. "Harm's birthday is in two weeks. I want to host an early birthday party for him. The Dawson's are coming home tomorrow so we can introduce Mac to them and our other friends."

"Introducing Mac to that crowd will probably scare her off. I admit that I will be glad to see Chet Dawson. It's been tough getting a foursome together without him."

"Can you stop thinking about golf for even five minutes?"

"Why would Harm and Mac want to spend an evening with a group of people who are old enough to be their parents? Let them go off on their own and have some fun on Friday night."

"It's our son's birthday. How long has it been since our son has been home for his birthday?"

Frank knew that the battle was lost. "Fine. After I finish with the doctor in the morning I'll swing by the Club and book the hall for Friday night."

"I want to have the party here."

Frank leaned back and groaned. "Dear God. You know how much I hate people traipsing through our house, to say nothing of the cleanup the following day. Why can't we rent the hall?"

"I want Sarah to understand that she is a part of our family. Having the party in our home will make that clear to her, and to Harm."

"It might take a ton of bricks to fall on Harm for him to get the message. You know how hardheaded he can be."

"Yes. Harm is just like his father."

Frank looked across the bed. "Sure...just like his father."

"I'm not amused by that comment."

"Why not leave well enough alone? Harm and Mac are friends and colleagues. They aren't lovers, but why should they be?"

"Harm is going to be 35. It's time he settled down. Sarah is 30, and she needs stability in her life. Besides, Sarah wants to start a family."

"How could you know that?"

"If you talk to people instead of talking at them you learn things."

"Leave me out of it and lets focus on Harm. If we push him too hard he will push back. You know how obstinate he can be. After all, he's just like his father."

Trish frowned. "You're over-thinking things. As you always do."

Frank put up his hands to indicate total surrender. "Harm and Mac fly home Sunday afternoon. Can you pull it all together by Friday?"

"I believe so. Of course I'll need to inform Sarah, just to make sure that she doesn't allow Harm to make any plans for Friday evening. She and I can discuss it at the spa. Sarah is a lovely girl."

"The two of us are on the same page about that."

"You and I are always on the same page. You're just a slow reader."

Frank slid across the bed and put his arm around Trish. "Patricia Burnett, before I met you my life was boring. You and Harm are the best things that ever happened to me."

"Frank Burnett, you're the best thing that has happened to Harm and I."

There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart.

Frank Burnett understood that in his wife's affections, he'd always be second to Harm Junior.


The Torrey Pines Gliderport was established in 1930 and it had once served as an anti-aircraft training facility. The gliderport closed at sunset, but offered dozens of trails along the cliffs which overlooked the city's popular Black's Beach.

It was a cool Fall evening. The gentle offshore breeze was crisp and clean, and devoid of pollution. The moon wasn't up, so after parking the car, Harm used a small flashlight to guide Mac along a narrow path and to a secluded area where they could be by themselves.

After Harm had spread out the blanket, Mac passed him a cup of hot coffee. "God, that's strong coffee. Luckily I have something sweet to go with it." Harm put his arm around Mac's shoulder.

"That's so nice of you to say." Mac snuggled up close to Harm. "Do you always come here when you're visiting your parents?"

"No but I came here a lot when I was a kid. Vietnam is 14 hours ahead, so when the sun was going down here it was already daylight in Vietnam. I'd sit on the cliffs and stare at the ocean and wonder what my dad was doing?"

"He was thinking about you and your mom and how much he missed you both. Harm, whether your dad was in Vietnam or in Russia, you and Trish gave him the strength he needed to keep going."

Harm tightened his arm around Mac. "When I went to Vietnam to look for my dad I imagined that once I found him, he and I would come back home and pick up where we had left off in 1969. I actually pictured the two of us working together to rebuild the Stearman in my Grandmother's barn. The foolish dreams of a 16 year old boy."

"What happened in Vietnam, Harm?"

"There's not much to tell. Frank and I flew to Thailand, I spent a couple of weeks poking around in Vietnam, and then Frank and I came back home."

It didn't sound plausible. Mac's natural curiosity made her want to know the full story, but she knew that Harm and his mother would never talk.

She needed to ask Frank.

Frank was the gatekeeper of all of the family secrets, and Mac knew that he could not refuse her.

The pair sat close together and watched as Mars and Saturn rose over the horizon. Once the two planets were up they joined with the bright star Antares to form a celestial triangle which Harm, an experienced navigator, easily recognized.

"This would be a good night to fly off of a carrier."

Harm had said the words casually, but they chilled Mac to the bone.

You can't fly at night, Harm. And you shouldn't be thinking about carriers. A carrier means you and a Tomcat, and me left behind, just like your father left Trish behind...and your father never came back.

Mac's nightmare rushed over her like a flood: first the doorbell, then Bud and the Admiral standing at the door, and finally the Admiral telling her that Harm was dead.

"Hold me, Harm. Hold me tightly," Mac implored, and she practically crawled inside of the leather flight jacket he was wearing.

Harm pulled Mac tightly up against him. When he ran his fingers over Mac's cheek, Harm felt tears. "Mac, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

When Mac looked up at Harm her huge brown eyes wet. "I love you, Harm."

"Please, Mac. We agreed not to allow this happen tonight."

"I don't care. I love you, and I need you to say that you love me," she pleaded.

Harm had never said 'I love you' to a woman. He felt desire for Diane, and compassion for Annie, but the other women in his life were just friends with benefits. Harm enjoyed hooking up and spending time with them, but those women came with no strings attached.

Harm knew that Sarah MacKenzie could never be that type of woman.

"Mac, you know how I feel about you."

"That isn't close to being good enough."

"You need to hear the words?" Harm asked.

"Yes, I need to hear them," Mac insisted. "And if you say them, I'll never let you take them back."

Rabb, whatever you say now will change your life forever.

"I love you, Mac," Harm declared, and then he kissed her with passion.

Someone was approaching. Harm could hear footsteps followed by whispers.

Then came the flashlight. "I'm sorry," said the young man. "We didn't think that anyone else would be up here."

"We're just doing a bit of stargazing," said Harm.

"Excuse us," said the girl, who Mac thought looked rather young.

As the couple made their way past them, the boy explained to his girlfriend, "How was I supposed to know there were old folks up here?"

"Old folks?" asked Harm.

"He must be talking about you. Honestly, Harm, did you hire them to interrupt us?"

Or was it Diane who sent them? I swear to god, from the moment we arrived in San Diego, Diane Schonke has been haunting me from beyond the grave.

The mood was lost. They sat next to each other sipping their coffee and watched the moon rise.

Mac felt that they had turned a corner, but wondered if the road ahead lead to an expressway or to a dead end?