Fight at the farm
Thursday evening
Christmas Eve
Roberts' residence
"So that's a how many hours' drive?"
"About three and a half. After the service I'll drive off," Harm answered.
"Not going to visit your dad?"
"I did that this afternoon, before I came here."
Mac listened silently. In earlier years it wouldn't have been a question; she and Harm would have spent Christmas day together and he would have cooked for her before they would have opened presents. But now … She forced herself to smile. Luckily he was too busy talking to the other guests to notice her.
He hadn't been too busy. During that whole evening he had kept an eye on her, from out of the corner of his eye. He saw her smile and knew how fake it was. Secretly he cursed himself. What had kept him from talking to her earlier?
Harm wasn't the only one noticing Mac's down mood. Harriet touched her arm.
"Can you help me serve coffee?"
Gratefully Mac nodded. At least it gave her something to do.
Harriet had been inspired by the traditional English Christmas that year. There had been turkey with a chestnut stuffing, Yorkshire pudding, Brussels's sprouts and parsnips, Christmas crackers and Christmas pudding, burning with brandy, with cognac butter for dessert and the coffee went accompanied by small mince pies. When everyone had his or her cup, it was time to unwrap the presents Secret Santa had brought. And then they would attend the service in the Naval Church.
The service had been as good as ever. It had been about Christmas bringing people together. But it had given Mac a hard time. Instead of being together she would be all by herself, alone, while he would be celebrating with his grandmother and parents. When the service had ended, she was the last one to leave the church. Harm was already saying goodbye to everyone.
Harm had waved at everyone before heading for his car, but someone had been missing: Mac. He turned around once more and scrutinized the little group. There she was, standing a bit aside. She looked so lost and lonely, it brought a lump in his throat. Before he knew it, he walked over and asked "Can I give you ride?" He knew she had been riding to church with Sturgis.
Mutely Mac nodded. She didn't really care; she only could think of the lonely days ahead. At the car Harm unlocked the doors and she slipped into the passenger seat.
Soft Christmas music sounded and Mac was grateful for it; now she could pretend to listen and didn't have to talk.
Until they were nearing her place and he suddenly started to speak.
"Come with me."
Mac's jaw dropped and she could only stare at him.
"I do mean it. Come with me to the farm."
"But …
"Grams won't mind."
"But still ... I can't ambush her like that. And she didn't invite me."
"I'll call her. I promised to call anyway when I was leaving Washington, so they knew how late to expect me."
He quickly looked at her, but she didn't react. The rest of the way was covered in silence. With her whole heart Mac wanted to say yes, but she knew it wasn't possible. She just couldn't … She glanced at him, but he was focussed on driving. Despite it being almost ten o'clock and Christmas eve, there was still a considerable amount of traffic.
When they reached her apartment building, she hardly could bear the tension. Little did she know the same went for Harm. Mentally squaring his shoulders, he reached for his cell phone. His eyes dared her to say no again, when he punched the digits.
"Hi Grams."
He had put his cell phone on speaker, so she could hear both sides of the conversation.
"Hi, my boy. You're leaving Washington now?"
"In fifteen minutes. Mac is coming, too, and she still has to pack an overnight bag."
There was no moment of surprised silence, no shimmer of hesitation in the old woman's voice.
"That's great. Her room is waiting for her."
"I knew you would love it. And Grams, don't go sit and wait for us. Have Frank do it. He is the night owl."
In the background a dark man's voice answered, "Will do that, son. What time will you be here?"
"Around one, one thirty."
"Okay, see you then."
When she had terminated the call, Grams looked flabbergasted.
"So she is coming. Then I better put a hot water bottle or two in the beds," and with that she got to her feet and left the room.
Trish blew out a breath.
"Quite a nerve, to come here uninvited," she voiced her opinion.
Frank raised his brows.
"Whose? Hers? Or your son's?"
Trish was ready to a snappy retort, but he cut her short.
"Grams accepts her coming and it's her house. Stay out of it, Trish, otherwise I fear this will be an unpleasant Christmas."
Farm
1.15 AM
The women had gone to bed at eleven, Grams after ordering Frank to put new hot water bottles in the beds at around one o'clock. He also had to make his son and his girlfriend a hot drink when they arrived and offer them some Weihnachtsstollen. Frank had promised to do so; he knew better than to contradict the old woman, when she had set her mind on something.
At ten past one Frank had changed the hot water bottles and now he was perking his ears. They could be there any minute. And indeed, only minutes later the sound of a car indicated the arrival of his son and his guest. He was on his feet in a second and walked to the door to welcome them. Harm and Mac emerged from the car, both a bit stiff after the long drive. Frank gave Harm a hug and warmly shook Mac's hand.
"Welcome, welcome. Come in, you must be cold and dying for a hot drink."
"We are," Harm confirmed, keeping his voice low in order not to wake up Grams or his mother. They followed Frank inside and Harm put their luggage next to the stairs. He took the bag with presents with him to the living and added the contents to the pile already under the tree. In the meantime Mac had walked over to the stove and warmed her hands. She threw quick glances at the surroundings.
Frank had gone to the kitchen and came back with a tray with mugs of cocoa and three small plates with buttered bread. He bade them to sit and handed out.
"What is this?" Mac asked after the first bite. "It's really good."
"It's a Weihnachtsstollen," Harm answered. "A German Christmas stollen with raisins, almonds, mixed peel and almond paste. Grams got the recipe from a German neighbour when she was young and since then has been making it every Christmas."
"It's great," Mac repeated.
Food and beverages gone Harm carried the bags upstairs. Frank showed Mac her room and of course Harm had his 'own' room, the room he had slept in since he was a little boy.
"Gram told me to tell you to sleep in," Frank said. "Sleep well."
"Sleep well," Harm and Mac answered.
Friday
The next morning they both were late. Grams, Frank and Trish had already had had breakfast, but Grams had set the kitchen table for the two of them. She was working at the counter, cutting vegetables, but turned around when they came in.
"Harm, my boy!" Her hug was warm and tight.
"And Sarah, welcome here." Mac received a warm hug, too. "I'm so glad we finally met! Harm has told me so much about you."
Mac eyes went to Harm, who blushed and shrugged a bit embarrassed. It was true, he had told his grandmother quite a bit about Mac.
Luckily Grams drew her attention by asking her how she drank her coffee and what she would like for breakfast. In the meantime she sliced some homemade whole wheat bread for Harm and cracked the eggs for scrambled eggs with home-grown chives, thyme and parsley.
"I take what Harm takes," Mac answered, not wanting the old lady to make a fuss.
"You're sure? Grams makes mean cinnamon rolls with icing," Harm said semi-innocently, revealing Mac's sweet tooth.
"Harm!"
Grams bit back a smile, enjoying the bickering between her grandson and his friend.
"It's no effort, girl," she said, walking to the other corner of the counter. From under a large bell jar she produced a plate of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, covered with peaks of cream cheese icing. Involuntarily Mac licked her lips and both Grams and Harm burst out laughing. Grams slid thee rolls on a plate and placed it on the table.
"Sit down," she motioned and turned to the stove to make Harm's eggs, leaving it to Harm to pour the two of them coffee.
When Grams was done, she put Harm's plate in front of him, sat next to him and reached for the coffeepot to pour herself a cup of coffee.
"Did you sleep well?" she inquired.
Mac swallowed the last bit of her first cinnamon roll.
"These are great!" she declared. "Yes, I slept wonderful. And the hot water bottle was nice, Mrs Rabb."
"You're welcome. And it's Grams!"
Mac nodded obediently.
"What are your plans?" the old lady now wanted to know.
"That depends," Harm answered. "Do you have things you like me to do?"
"There are a few odd jobs to do and some paperwork I'd like you to have a look at, but that can wait till tomorrow. No work on Christmas day."
"What about after we finished breakfast, I show Mac the farm, then we have coffee and this afternoon we'll take a walk?" He turned towards Mac. "Grams likes an early Christmas dinner and afterwards we'll unwrap presents."
"Sound like a plan," Grams beat Mac in answering. "You look like you can use some fresh air."
Afternoon
As planned after lunch Harm took Mac on a walk. He had plotted a scenic route and wanted to show her as much as possible of his childhood paradise. During the first half hour he pointed out spots and shared matching memories. Mac listened intensely and once in a while she asked a question. Although he never had been shy in sharing farmhouse memories, she never had heard him tell so much.
As the terrain was getting a bit more uneven, they had to pay more attention where they put their feet and he fell silent, but when the path was better, Harm started to talk again.
"I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you. So badly. But I figured it wasn't going to happen. I was sure you would celebrate with Mic. That day, it was late November, just after Thanksgiving, Grams called. She immediately noticed something was wrong and, well, she has a way of making you tell. And when she learned I would be alone at Christmas, she suggested I would come over. I agreed, albeit telling her I would be late, for I didn't want to miss Christmas dinner and the service. A few days later Mum told me she and Frank were coming, too." He looked aside where Mac was listening intensely.
"And then you broke up with Mic. I was flabbergasted; I thought you were happy with him. I didn't want to make a move immediately; I guessed you needed some time. And then, Grams and my parents were so much looking forward to my visit and celebrating Christmas together. I was torn."
Mac nodded; she could see his dilemma. Harm went on.
"I thought about asking you to come with me; I knew Grams wouldn't mind. She loves a full house. She even suggested I'd bring you with me. But each time I tried to have a private moment with you, someone or something interrupted. And I didn't want the whole office to know; there is enough scuttlebutt as there is. So …" he made a helpless gesture. "But yesterday you looked so lonely, so forlorn."
Mac had difficulty to keep the tears at bay. She swallowed fiercely.
"I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you, too. When you told about your trip to here …" she whispered.
Harm was at loss of words. Instead he opened his arms and to his huge relief she stepped into them and rested her head against his chest. After a few seconds her arms snaked around his waist and he felt her taking deep breaths to control herself. Harm rested his cheek on her soft hair and waited.
Finally Mac pulled back.
"Sorry," she whispered, without looking at him.
"Why?" Harm asked.
"Why what?" Mac didn't understand.
"Why are you sorry, or what are you sorry for?"
"This entangled mess?" she offered. She tried to smile, but failed miserably.
"That's more to blame on me than on you," Harm stated.
"It isn't," Mac protested.
"Is!"
Mac shook her head stubbornly.
"If I had listened better back then in Sydney ..."
"If I hadn't been so cryptic back then in Sydney ..."
For a moment it looked they both were ready to pick a fight about who was the most to blame. Then Harm took a step back and started to laugh.
"Let's not start a fight. Let's agree we both made mistakes back then."
Mac did a step back, too, all feistiness leaving her.
"You're right. We shouldn't fight."
Since standing still became a bit chilly, she started walking again and soon enough he fell in step with her. She looped her arm through his.
"Maybe we should talk about it, address the gorilla or gorillas in the room."
"You're right."
"But not now."
"Okay, you say when."
"Good."
They walked on in silence for a while, until they reached the top of the little hill behind the farm. They turned to look. The view was magnificent. It had snowed for some time that night and sky was a clear blue. Smoke coiled from chimneys and in the distance children were playing with a sleigh. Mac heaved a sigh.
"It's so beautiful, so peaceful."
Suddenly Harm pointed to a nearby hedge. A deer had come out of hiding and tried to find something edible. The humans watched with bated breath, until the animal decided to try its luck further on.
"Wow."
"Yeah. It's not often you see them in broad daylight," Harm said. He checked his watch. "Let's go back. It's almost teatime."
"Okay."
Since they had to watch their steps descending the hill, they walked in silence, but when they reached the narrow dirt road leading back to the farm, Harm noticed Mac looked a bit down again.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look like you don't want to go inside."
For a moment he thought he wouldn't get an answer, but then Mac started to speak.
"Your mother doesn't like me being here."
Harm's first impulse was to deny it, but then he thought better of it. Instead he asked, "What makes you think so?"
Mac looked thoughtful.
"Hard to pinpoint. Just … the way she reacted this morning when I turned up. The way she looks at me. Choice of words. Just after lunch I was talking to Frank and she came to get him, seemingly for him to help her with something, but she threw a look over her shoulder …"
she looked up at Harm. "I'm sorry. I don't want to come between you and your mother. I know your relationship is … strained sometimes."
Harm sucked in his lips. She might be right; Trish could be hostile, when she didn't like a person or a situation.
"Grams and Frank not making you feel unwelcome?" he inquired.
"No, absolutely not."
Now he stopped and took her shoulders to turn her towards her.
"I want you here, with me. Grams told me this morning how happy she is to finally meet you, after all I told her about you."
Mac's eyes widened in surprise.
"And Frank likes you. If necessary, I'll talk to mum. I don't want her to make you feel awkward."
"No, Harm, you mustn't. I don't want you to fight over me," Mac protested. "Promise me," and when he didn't answer, she urged "promise me!"
Harm nodded reluctantly.
"Okay, I won't confront her." 'But I won't keep silent either, if she brings up the subject,' he silently thought.
When Mac saw his grim face, she regretted bringing up the subject. Once more she looped her arm through his.
"What's planned for the rest of the day?" she changed the subject.
"First we have tea," Harm told her. "Then, if you still have something to do, you can do it then. At six we are going to change in something festive and at half past is dinner. Afterwards we'll have coffee and then it's time to unwrap."
"Sounds good," Mac laughed.
Ten minutes later they entered the living where Grams just was pouring tea and Trish and Frank both were sitting and reading. Grams gave them a warm smile and Frank put down his book.
"Did you have a nice walk?" he asked.
Trish only briefly looked up from her book, but the glare she threw Mac made Harm realise Mac had been right. His mother didn't want her at the farm.
In the meantime Mac answered Frank "Yes, we had a lovely walk. I now understand why Harm loves this place so much."
Now Trish put her book down, too.
"Are you a city mouse or a country mouse?" she laughed. It sounded casual, but at the same time Mac heard the hidden criticism. Trish was fishing – and doubting – whether she would ever be happy in a rural setting. After all, this was Harm's heritage,.
"I lived both in cities as in villages," she answered. "And I liked them both. Cities have advantages, like more shops, entertainment, facilities, but the community within a village is often so much stronger. There is a reason they say 'It takes a village to raise a child'."
Trish gave only a short nod, before shifting her attention to the cup of tea Grams put in front of her.
After tea Grams pulled Harm aside.
"I need your help for a moment. Come with me, please."
Dutifully Harm followed her to her sewing room, where Grams opened a cupboard.
"Since Mac decided at the last minute to come, I didn't have time to go and shop for Christmas presents. I already gift-wrapped a basket with jars of pickles and jam …"
There had been several kinds of pickles on the table that afternoon to go with their sandwiches and Mac had tried and loved them all.
"But I want to give her something else as well." She pointed at her stash of finished crafts.
"Is there something here you think she would like?"
Slowly Harm let his eyes wander. There were embroidered needle-books and pincushions, bookmarks and covers, quilted coasters and placemats, crocheted doilies and pillowcases in made using several techniques. A special shelf was occupied by stuffed toys, baby booties and embroidered bibs.
"You know, I have a lot of time to craft," he heard his grandmother say. "What I make, I store and use it as gift, might the occasion rise, or when there is a charity fair, I donate some things."
Harm reached out to take the pile of pillowcases and flip through them.
"Mac loves to read, so one or two bookmarks will come in handy," he said. "And maybe a pillowcase. She has quite a lot of pillows on the couch."
"Which one would she like the most?"
Harm closed his eyes and pictured Mac's living.
"This one or this one," he said after a moment, pulling a cream crocheted pillowcase and a quilted one in several shades of brown and ochre out of the pile.
"Right, let's do them both," Grams decided, already busy selecting two bookmarks as well. "Since Frank and Trish weren't able to buy her something either, I want her to have something extra. She shouldn't feel excluded."
Harm turned towards her.
"Grams, are you really fine with having Mac here? That I brought her along without asking you first?"
His grandmother patted his cheek.
"Yes, my boy. I am. I suggested, remember?" She raised her brows. "By the way, why did it take you so long to ask her?"
Harm sighed.
"First I thought she needed some time to overcome her break up with Brumby. Then … each time I tried to have a private moment to ask her, someone or something interrupted. I didn't want the whole office to know; after all, scuttlebutt is a bitch. And I was afraid she would say no. We are slowly regaining our friendship, but I didn't know whether she was ready. Especially with mum and Frank present as well. I mean, we are just friends and …"
Grams cocked her head.
"Just friends? Really?" she commented dryly.
"For now, yes. And yes, I want it to be more, but …" he sighed again. Grams kept silent; over the previous year she had been his confidant and she knew.
Evening
At 6.30pm Grams bade them to the table. She had set it with her best china, crystal glasses and nicely folded embroidered napkins. On a side table a couple of bottles stood and Mac swallowed. She hadn't informed Grams about her alcoholism and she knew she had to refuse. Suddenly she felt Harm's hand on her shoulder and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"All covered," he whispered in her ear, as he pulled back the chair for her. Then he did the same for his grandmother, while Frank helped Trish
"Harm, will you pour us a drink?" Grams requested and Harm did as asked. He poured a light sparkling white wine in Grams', his parents' and his own glass and then switched to a non-alcoholic drink for Mac. Then he took his own place. Mac felt Trish' eyes on her, but the older woman refrained from commenting.
Grams requested a moment of silence to give thanks and then wished everyone a nice meal. She proceeded by lifting the lid of the large soup terrine and one by one they held their plates close. It was a fragrant oxtail soup and Mac cocked her brows to Harm. He gave her a smile.
"Sometimes you have to make an exception," he said, taking a spoonful. "And Grams soup is to die for."
Now Mac took up her spoon as well and soon found out Harm was right.
"Grams, this is really delicious," she complimented her hostess, who sported a wide smile on her face. The soup was followed by a shrimp cocktail and then Harm helped Grams to bring in bowls with mashed potatoes, red cabbage, carrots in mustard and honey, homemade applesauce and cranberry sauce. The old lady brought in the turkey herself and placed it in the middle on the table. She received a well-deserved applause.
"Frank, will you cut the bird and Harm, top off our glasses, please," she said, sitting down again and Harm started to do so. Now Trish had something to say.
"You don't like wine?" she asked innocently. "It's really a good one; Frank selected it himself in one of the best wineries in La Jolla. You really should taste it."
Mac had to bite her tongue in order not to give a catty retort. 'Wat the h*ck!' she thought.
"I don't drink," she answered. "In my teens, I used to be an alcoholic. I've been sober for over fifteen years now, but I can't drink alcohol."
Frank gave her a warm smile.
"I always admired people who managed to overcome an addiction," he said. "I have one or two friends, who also struggled, either with alcohol or with drugs, and I've seen how hard it is. And how easy to fall back when things get tough."
"Yes, it's admirable," Trish agreed, but Mac saw the flash of contempt in her eyes and knew she had handed the other woman yet another weapon. For a moment there hung a somewhat awkward silence, but then Grams changed subjects by asking Mac how she felt about the farm's surroundings and Mac could tell her how she had enjoyed her walk with Harm that afternoon.
Dessert was coupes of chocolate mousse, topped off with whipped cream and orange peel. Mac licked her lips. She loved chocolate. Harm shared a grin with Grams; it was he who had told her Mac's favourite dessert.
After dinner Harm insisted on doing the dishes, together with Mac. As soon as they were alone, he pulled her in for a quick hug.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered in her ear. For a moment Mac allowed herself to melt against him, then she pulled back and reached for the dish towel.
"Let's do the dishes."
They worked in amicable silence, but when Harm had placed the last bowl into the cupboard, he turned to her.
"You're okay?"
"I am," Mac declared with more confidence she felt. Harm threw her a slightly suspicious look, but didn't comment. Instead he turned the coffeemaker on.
"Why don't you bring the cups inside and I'm right there with the coffee?" he suggested.
Ten minutes later he brought in the coffee, poured and then took his place next to Mac on the couch. Now it was time to 'attack' the pile of presents, waiting under the tree. Grams took the lead. She reached to pick up the first parcel. It was for Trish and contained a bottle of nice perfume. The next parcels, for both Harm and Frank, contained hand-knitted sweaters and from then present after present was handed out, opened and admired. Mac was very touched when next to Harm's presents and the few gifts from friends she had brought from home, she received the two pillowcases, two bookmarks, a warm soft woollen crocheted scarf and several jars of pickles and jam and she thanked Grams with a tight hug.
"You're welcome, child," the old woman smiled.
It was only ten o'clock and no one felt like going to bed already.
"Why don't we go and play a game of scrabble?" Grams suggested. She loved the game of letters and words and to be honest, she was quite good at it.
"Fine with me," Mac agreed eagerly. She herself loved board games and scrabble was one of her favourites. Besides, playing a game might ease the tension that threatened to creep in again.
Harm stood up to fetch the board and tiles from out of the cupboard.
"There are only four of us that can play," he pointed out.
"I'm happy to sit this one out," Frank reacted. He had been absorbed by one of his new books and was most happy to read on.
"Okay. What about you, mum?"
"I'm in." She didn't say she didn't want the young woman to spend some quality time with her son and her former mother-in-law.
Mac had to supress a sigh. She had hoped for Frank as a player, rather than Trish. Grams was pouring an additional cup of coffee and Harm was busy setting up the board and racks and putting the tiles on a tray, downside up. The way his beloved reacted to the announcement of his mother didn't elude him, though. He too bit back a sigh; he so had hoped Mac and his mother would get along.
They played. From an early stage it was clear Grams and Mac were a match for each other. The two women shared a grin, telling 'bring it on', each time one of them laid out a word.
Trish came in a good third. She managed to make some good points as well and in the fifth round the glimmer of her eyes told Mac she had another attack planned. And she had.
With a smile which was almost a smirk Trish laid out 'imposter'. She counted the point values.
"That will be 12 points and it's a double word square, so 24 points," she said contently. "You're next," she nodded at Mac. For a second their eyes crossed and Mac knew the other woman had seen the flash of hurt.
Harm's eyes flashed, too, but with anger. Now his mother had gone too far.
Boxing day
The next morning Harm and Frank set off to do the odd jobs Grams had asked them to do. Mac asked whether the old lady had something to do for her, too. Sitting with Trish in the living didn't appeal to her and besides, she would be glad to do some chores too, to 'repay' the hospitality she had received.
Grams had noticed her former daughter-in-law's hostility and understood Mac's need to be away from her.
"You can help me in the kitchen," she said. "I need to bake bread again and I want to bake Harm a batch of his favourite cookies."
Mac laughed out loud.
'I don't know whether I will be of great help. I never baked bread in my entire life. Or cookies, for that matter."
"About time to learn then," Grams commented dryly.
Trish was watching the interaction and for a moment Mac was afraid she would offer her help, too. But without a word the woman put down her book and walked out the door, her back radiating disapproval. They heard her mount the stairs and then the door of their bedroom. For a second a grim expression flashed Grams face, then she beckoned Mac to follow her to the kitchen.
"First we weigh the right amount of flour, then we have the yeast going," she started her teachings.
At lunch the men reported to be finished with their chores. Mac told about the kitchen activities. There were three tins of cookies and the bread was rising for the second time. Grams added she would put it into the oven in about an hour. For Harm and Mac she had another request.
"Can you run a few errands this afternoon? There are one or two things I need and a friend called this morning, she has family over and she asked me whether I had some pickles to share. Her son loves homemade pickles and she doesn't can herself anymore."
"Of course," Harm told her. "You give us a shopping list." Mac kept silent, but Harm saw the relief to be away for some time in her eyes.
There were about fifteen minutes into the ride, alternating chatting and listening to the radio, when Mac suddenly addressed a more serious subject.
"You did argue with your mum about us," she stated. "I heard you."
"You did?" Harm was surprised; he hadn't know she had overheard them.
"Yes. I wasn't eavesdropping. I just came down for lunch and was to enter the living when I heard you. As soon as I realised what it was about, I went outside."
She looked pleadingly, not wanting him to get mad.
Harm sighed.
"You're right, mum and I got into a fight. I know I promised not to confront her, but she started." He snorted when he realised how childish that sounded.
"I guess I heard her first words. About being mad at me for hurting you."
"Yes," he nodded. "Guess she never got rid of the 'mama bear' instinct. Don't touch my baby! She knows how down I was this year and is afraid you will hurt me again."
Mac cringed at his words and he reached out to take her hand.
"Don't you worry. She will come to her senses. And then, I know I hurt you, too."
Mac hung her head; she couldn't deny that.
"I don't want to talk about it now. I mean …" she trailed, not knowing what exactly she meant or how to put it into words. But to her surprise he took her words at face value.
"We don't have to talk now. That conversation we had yesterday was the first adult conversation about our emotions we had in a long time. I don't have the illusion we'll solve everything in two or three talks. Besides, we should take the time to digest our conversations, so to say. And to do just fun things, to re-establish our bond."
Mac gave him a grateful smile.
"I can't agree more. So today just running your grandmother's errands? What does she wants us to do again?"
"Yes. We have to drop off some jars of pickles with a friend of hers, then get some fabric from another friend and leave a tin of cookies and then there are some groceries to pick up ".
Mac leaned back in her chair. Good, that would keep them away from the farm for the better part of the afternoon. She loved to be there, loved to talk to Grams and Frank, but Trish… she could miss her like … like toothache.
Sunday morning
"You said it would be my call when and how to talk?"
Harm nodded. Once more they had taken a walk, both to enjoy the fresh air and lovely weather as to be away from the farm and have the opportunity to talk without interruption.
"Yes. I mean, we both have our bruises, our raw spots. Things from the past, our youths, times we hurt each other. I think it's important we don't run ahead. We should take the time to address them. To build a solid base."
"Solid base? For what? What do you want? Mend fences? Be friends again?"
She cringed at the anger in her voice. Sh*t, where did that came from? She didn't want to fight again. But luckily Harm didn't take the bait.
"Yes," he said. "To start with. I want to mend fences, I want to be friends again. I feel we are working on that already. And I want to explore, to see whether we can get it right this time."
Mac went silent. He wanted a relationship, he wanted … how far did he want it to go?
"You mean …" she hesitated.
He stopped and turned towards her.
"Yes," he answered her unfinished question. "I want a relationship with you, a true relationship. Courting, engagement, marriage. A life together, you and me and hopefully some children. Grow old together and watch our grandchildren play. You and me, till death do us part."
Mac was flabbergasted.
"Do you mean it?" she whispered after some moments.
"Yes. That's the relationship I want with you. But if that's not what you want …" she saw him swallow. "Then I'll settle for friendship again. For the last thing I want is you not in my life, one way or the other."
He waited for her to react, but Mac stayed silent. She started to walk again and he followed. He had to fight his nervousness and give her the time and space she needed, he told himself. After all, she hadn't laughed in his face and dismissed him, had she?
Mac's thoughts ran a thousand miles an hour. A real relationship, courting cumulating in engagement and marriage. Having children together. Suddenly it looked like she was allowed a glance into paradise, but at the same time she was scared as hell. There was so much mending to do. The past had proven how much they were able to hurt each other, and she didn't know how to handle that, to survive a break up. And he hadn't said he loved her, yet.
She threw him a sideways glance. His face stood very serious. She knew he had meant every word and he had been much more forthcoming about his intentions than she had expected him to be, much more than he had been ever before.
Slowly she nodded.
"Yes," she said. "We should talk. And maybe," she looked a bit unsure up to him "maybe find some help."
"A shrink, you mean?"
"A therapist, yes. Harm, if this doesn't work out, I don't know how to cope. And our record in talking, really talking isn't the best."
"You're right," Harm slowly admitted. "I might need a bit of time to get used to the idea, but I think you're right. We might benefit from some help. And then, I think we shouldn't rush things. Mum was right in one thing: we hurt each other. We became a lot closer this weekend," he smiled lovingly at her "but there are still questions to be answered and issues to be addressed."
"I have to agree."
"Next to that, there is the job."
Again Mac nodded.
"So, what do you propose?"
Harm laughed.
"Not that. Yet, that is. But I think we'll have to talk to AJ, sooner rather than later. See what he can do, what he's prepared to do."
Once more he found Mac completely on his side.
"I hope he is willing to keep us together. But what if not?"
"I suggest we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Harm said. "Let's focus on our relationship first."
"Okay."
They walked by some large trees and suddenly he pulled her close and kissed her, leaving her open-mouthed when he pulled back.
"What, why?"
Harm chuckled and pointed up.
"Mistletoe."
Mac shook her head confused.
"Did Grams hang it there?"
For a second Harm could only stare at her, but the image of his eight-plus years old grandmother climbing in trees to hang mistletoe was too much. He bust out into laughter, so hard it startled a murder of crows that were looking for food in the nearby meadow. With indignant shrieks they took flight.
Mac in the meantime felt very silly. When Harm had stopped laughing and only let out an occasionally chuckle, he explained "Not, it grows there. These are oaks, mistletoe is a parasitic plant and its favourite hosts are oaks."
He chuckled again.
"You don't really expect Grams to climb in trees, do you?"
Mac gave him a poke.
"Don't tell her," she requested, still feeling very stupid.
He pulled her to his side.
"I won't," he promised.
They walked on. For a moment she regretted it was winter and they had to wear mittens. She would have loved the feel of his skin. Like he read her mind, he removed the mitten from his right hand and reached out. When she placed her hand in his, he pulled off her mitten too and tucked both of them in his left pocket. Then he pulled her closer, so they could walk with her hand is his, both warm and snug in his pocket.
They had lunch and then Mac went upstairs to pack their belongings, while Harm sat with his grandmother to go through the paperwork. But she had hardly reached the upstairs corridor, when Trish came out the bedroom she and Frank used. She didn't say something, just stood, blocking Mac, a haughty expression on her face.
Mac was at loss what to do. She stepped aside, to let the older woman pass, but Trish didn't move. Then she tried to slip by her, but once more Trish got in her way.
"Can you let me pass?" she asked, but she didn't receive an answer.
"I like to pass," she repeated, her eyes steady in Trish', staying polite but not wanting to beg. Now there was some reaction, a slight moving from the head, from left to right and back. No.
Mac tried to come up with a yet another approach. She wasn't going to be sucked into a fight, and for sure not wanted to have to get physical.
Unknowingly Grams came to her rescue. Both women looked up when they heard the door of the living open and Grams saying to Harm "I left some paperwork in my bedroom; I'll get it."
With a last spiteful look Trish brushed by her and headed for the stairs. Mac blew out a breath. She willed back a tear, then hurried to her own bedroom. She didn't want Grams to see her now; the old lady would spot her distress in the blink of an eye.
At four o'clock it was time to leave. Harm loaded their bags and the bags with presents in the trunk and then turned to his parents and Grams to say goodbye. He received three warm hugs and Grams urged him to come back, as soon as possible. "And do take Mac with you," she added.
In the meantime Trish extended a hand to Mac.
"It was a pleasure to meet you. Too bad you have to leave already," she said in a bit clipped voice. Not a moment too soon, her eyes were clearly saying.
Mac looked her straight into the eye.
"It was nice to meet you, too, Trish." For a split second she contemplated to call her Mrs Burnett, but that would give away too much and she didn't want the older woman to have that triumph.
Luckily now Frank pulled her in a quick hug and gave her a peck on the cheek.
"I really enjoyed out time together," he said and she knew he meant it.
Then Grams said her goodbyes and like she had told Harm, she expressed her hope she would visit again, soon. Harm saw his mother's eyes narrow and exchanged a look with Frank. The older man nodded slowly; he understood.
They stepped into the car and Harm started the engine. With a last little honk they were off.
Mac leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes. Only now the tension was slowly waning, she felt how pressured she had felt under Trish' constant disapproval. Harm threw her a look. His mother's demeanour these last moments hadn't eluded him and it was something to address, sooner rather than later, he thought.
"You're okay?" he asked and received a causal "Yes, I am." But she wasn't looking at him and he knew she was lying. For a moment he pondered what to do, then he spotted a parking lot sign and his mind was made up. He turned the car off the road and killed the engine. Mouth open and wide-eyed Mac looked at him.
"Mac, I'm sorry for the way mum treated you."
"It's not your fault," Mac shrugged.
"I know it isn't, but that's not the point. We agreed to talk about the gorillas in the room and God knows there are a few: my eye surgery, going back to flight status, being cryptic in Sydney …"
"Me being pushy and jumping to conclusions in Sydney, me running into the arms of another man," Mac interrupted.
Harm raised his hand.
"You weren't pushy, you just ambushed me. But that's not what I want to say. There are some gorillas, aka issues waiting – and needing - to be discussed, but I'm definitely not going to add one. My mum's behaviour is not going to be hushed up. Doesn't have to be now, but it's going to be discussed."
He took her hands and looked her in the eye.
"Sarah, my mum is not the one to decide what relationships I have. Do you understand?"
Mac nodded. She buried her teeth in her lower lip, to stop the trembling. Harm let go of her hands, in favour of caressing her cheek. Mac closed her eyes and leaned in, taking deep breaths. Despite herself a tear escaped and he wiped it away.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You did nothing wrong. There is nothing to feel guilty about."
With last caress he pulled his hand back.
"I'm sure Frank and Grams are going to have a word with her."
"I don't want to be the cause of discord in your family," Mac protested. "You didn't talk to them, did you?"
"No, I didn't. But they have eyes, too. And Grams … Trish not only offended you, she offended Grams as well. You were a guest in her house and Grams wants her guests to feel welcome and at home. Besides, I happen to know Frank warned mum before. They will want a word."
And indeed, that was exactly what Grams and Frank were doing, at that very moment.
Friday evening May 24th
about 19.00
Car
"Does she know we are coming?"
"Yes, we talked about it, but due to work, I told her I couldn't promise anything."
"She won't be …?"
"Ambushed? No, half of the times I visit last minute. She has always a room ready and being a farmer's girl, there is always plenty food in stock. She will be over the moon."
He looked aside.
"You look nervous; is it about Mum?"
"Yes, a bit, I guess."
She spotted a sign of a fuel station and a diner.
"Can you stop there?"
"You need to use the restroom?"
"That too, but I would like a bite as well and …"
"And?" he asked, when she kept silent.
"Tell you when we're out of the car."
Harm swung the car onto the parking lot and together they walked to the small diner. Mac headed for the ladies' room and Harm ordered a burger for her, a salad for him and fries and sparkling water for both of them. He was just carrying the food to a table when Mac came back.
They ate and then Harm pushed his plate aside and leaned his elbows on the table.
"Spit."
She had been in pensive mood all day, but he had known better than push her. 'Going into counselling together had taught them a lot' he mused, momentarily distracted.
"Earth to Harm, earth to Harm."
Startled he looked up.
"Where were your thoughts? " Mac laughed.
"With you. And with how much better we communicate," was his honest answer. Mac smiled softly. She totally agreed and was equally happy with it.
"Before I tell you, why don't you try and call Grams we are on our way?" she suggested and dutifully Harm took his cell phone. It was answered at the first ring.
"Hi Grams."
"Harm! How are you? Can you make it to here tonight?"
"Yep. We just left Frederick and having a bite now. Guess we'll arrive about ten o'clock."
"Great." You could hear the joy in her voice. "Frank and Trish are already here, they arrived at lunch."
"Right, see you in a few hours then," Harm said.
"Looking forward to it. Bye," his grandmother terminated the call.
Harm put his cell phone back in his pocket and looked at Mac.
"Your turn."
"You asked me whether I was nervous meeting your mum again," she started. "Yesterday there was a letter in the mail. Well, one of the past days." She had been on an investigation and had only arrived back home the previous evening.
"It was a letter from your mother. A letter of apology."
"It was?" Harm was stunned.
"Yes." Mac dug in her pocket. "Read it."
Harm hesitated.
"She wrote it to you," he objected.
" And I chose to share it with you." She took his hand. "Harm, it's your mum. The way she behaved at Christmas affected you, too. You said it would be a subject to discuss and that's what we're going to do."
Harm bit his lip. She was right, the situation had affected him, too, and although he liked to see his parents again, he had not been had been looking forward to new hostilities between his mother and his beloved.
Mac, seeing he was still not keen on reading the letter, now took it out of the envelope and folded it open. She started to read aloud.
"Dear Mac,
I guess you're surprised to receive a letter from me. Soon we will meet again and before that I want things cleared between us as much as possible. To make a long story short, I want to apologize for the way I behaved last time. I was way out of line and I'm really sorry. The only things I can say to my defence is that I had been so much looking forward to spending time with my son and then there you were and I had to share again. Next to that, I saw how unhappy Harm was all those months and I blamed you. If I had to be honest, I know the hurting and being hurt was probably mutual. Harm is no angel either. But a mother is prone to defend her child, even if he is well in his thirties. So it was so much easier to blame you, and I did. I am truly sorry and I hope you will accept my apologies and we will be able to start anew on a better foot.
Trish"
Harm took a deep breath. All what he had expected, not this. It must have cost his mother quite some self-conquest to write this letter.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"I was surprised," Mas said "and I'm … well, glad, I think. It certainly helps. But …"
Harm took her hands.
"I don't expect you to be best friends overnight," he said. "She will have to proof herself, I guess. But I'm happy she took the first step."
Mac smiled; she was happy he was on her side.
She cuddled his hand to her cheek.
"You're right. I will do my best, too. But let's go now; Grams awaits us." She released his hand and stood up.
Harm rose to his feet, too. He dropped the garbage in the bin and reached out with his hand again. Hand in hand they walked back to the car.
Saturday evening
He stood in front of the window, looking out, when she entered the living, after having helped Grams with the dishes. He turned towards her, though, when he heard her come in.
"Let's take a walk. The weather is nice and if we climb the hill behind the farm, I bet the sunset will be spectacular."
"Sounds like a plan. I'll get my coat."
On their way to the door they encountered Grams, coming out of the kitchen. She threw a quick look at both of them.
"Going for a walk?"
"Yes," Mac answered.
"Have fun," the old lady smiled, but there was something in her eyes Mac couldn't decipher. Harm didn't react and she shrugged it away; probably she was mistaken.
They walked the same path they had done months earlier. Once more her hand was in his and Mac couldn't be happier.
Nearing the top of the hill Harm asked "How do you feel?"
Although Trish had apologized and was true to her word, still not all tension had waned. The older woman's hostility had hit hard back then, maybe even harder because of Mac's youth, in which she never had felt really wanted by her parents.
"It's much better than with Christmas," Mac pondered "but I … well, I might need a bit more time before …" she looked apologizing up to him, after all, it was his mother, but Harm just pulled her a bit closer.
"That's fine. She did behave badly, last time. I'm glad she came round and is ready to make an effort to become friends with you. Just give her a chance."
"I will," Mac promised. He had given her his unwavering support and she didn't want to cause trouble in his family.
They reached the top of the hill and turned westward. The sun was just nearing the horizon and Harm had been right; the view was fantastic. Mac leaned against Harm's chest and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. For long minutes they watched the festival of colours, till finally the sun disappeared and the show was over. But Harm didn't let go of her. Suddenly she felt something cool sliding around her left ring finger and there was Harm's voice in her ear.
"Sarah, I love you, I love you more than I can express in words. Will you be my wife?"
Slowly she turned in his arms.
"Yes, oh yes!" she breathed. She looked up to him with shiny eyes. "I'd love to be your wife." She saw his emotions in the twitching of the little muscles next to his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I love you so much," she whispered vehemently.
He rested his forehead against hers, taking deep breaths, before pressing his lips on hers.
They stood for a long time, before she finally pulled back and looked at her ring. On first sight it was a fairly modest one, but the sparkling, even in the fading light, indicated the three small diamonds, the middle one a tad larger than its neighbours, were high quality.
"Do you like it?" Harm asked, a bit anxious. Maybe he should have chosen one with a larger stone.
"I love it. I don't need a flashy jewel, I need your love."
"You have that. Unconditionally," Harm assured her once more.
"Is it engraved?" Mac wanted to know. She didn't want to take it off now, knowing she wouldn't been able to read any lettering in the fast fading light and afraid she would drop it and never find it back.
"Yes. It says 'my love for eternity'." He wanted to mention it lightly, but his voice cracked. Mac swallowed fiercely; after all, the term 'eternity' had such a strong meaning to them. Once more she wrapped her arms around him and held on tightly. She felt him tremble. If she had ever a moment of doubt about his love, she should remember this moment, she thought.
When he had regained his calm, he looked up, a bit embarrassed, but she just smiled and caressed his face, before pulling him in for a kiss.
"I think we better go back," he said after a while.
By now darkness has fallen completely. But Harm had come prepared. His hand went into his pocket and came out again with a small but strong flashlight. Hand in hand they descended the hill and from there it was only a short walk to the farm.
When they came in, Grams' gaze immediately slid to Mac's hand. Then she was on her feet in a second and gave them both a fierce hug.
"I'm so happy," she beamed.
Frank and Trish looked flabbergasted.
"What? Why? What happened?" Frank asked.
In answer Harm held Mac's left hand up in the air for them to see. It took a second, but then the coin dropped.
"You are engaged!" Frank exclaimed. "Congratulations!" He too first hugged Harm and then hugged Mac, kissing her on both cheeks. Trish came third, first hugging and kissing her son and then Mac.
When the excitement had worn off, Trish wanted to see Mac's ring.
"Very classy," she said. "It looks simple, but I bet quality-wise it's way beyond a stone twice its size. It's really beautiful and it so fits you. You did a good job," she told her son.
Grams came in with coffee and cake.
"Did you know Harm was going to propose today?" Mac asked. She wasn't too happy with the thought her fiancé's grandmother had known before her.
"Not know," the old lady answered. "But I know my grandson. Two weeks ago, when we discussed you both coming, I also asked him whether he already had taken the next step. He said no, but in the tone of his voice I …" She wiggled her fingers. "I could sense he wasn't going to wait long. This evening, I could see he was nervous for taking you out for a walk and watching the sunset. What's there to be nervous for when you go on a walk and watch the sun go down, unless you have planned something more? And then, I knew Harm would want a special place to propose and the farm and that hill is special to you, right?" She titled her head questioningly.
Mac laughed relieved.
"You're right, that hill is important to us." She felt Trish would have liked to ask further, but she kept silent. Luckily Frank stepped in.
"Did you already plan when you will get married?"
"Not yet. I want to enjoy being engaged for a while, but I don't think we'll wait that long," Harm answered, looking at Mac and she nodded her agreement.
They had their coffee and then it was discussed what to do the rest of the evening.
"Shall we play a board game?" Trish suggested.
"Fine with me," Mac agreed.
Trish held up the Scrabble for her to see.
"This one fine?"
For a moment Mac had an unpleasant flashback, but Trish' face mirrored nothing but friendliness and she forcefully pushed the image away. Like the previous time Frank excused himself and the three women and Harm gathered round the table and started to pick tiles.
They played and once more Grams and Mac were a match for each other, while Harm brought up the rear. It was Trish' turn and the smile on her face told Mac she had something on her sleeve. Mac bit het teeth in an attempt to keep a straight face.
There was already a 'free' L on the board and one by one Trish placed her tiles: W – E – the L – C – O – M –E. Welcome. She smiled at Mac. 'Welcome', she mouthed.
The end.