Part 16b of two parts—(PLEASE NOTE: Read Part 16a first)
Two months later, on the Fourth of July, the Roberts, Michaelsons and AJ gathered at the Rabb's house to celebrate Sammy's 2nd birthday. Everyone enjoyed a summer barbeque and fireworks, before the exhausted kids were ferried back to their respective residences.
After getting the kids to bed, Mac wandered into the master bedroom to find Harm flipping through legal files. She busied herself with preparing for bed, never uttering a word of conversation.
Noticing her quiet demeanor, Harm set aside the files to observe his wife. When she climbed into bed, he saw the tears slowly gliding down her cheeks. He pulled her into his embrace, "Hey, what's wrong? Are the kids OK?" She nodded but didn't embellish further. "Mac, did something happen?"
She picked at her nail and whispered, "Sammy doesn't need me anymore."
He turned her face toward him, "Sweetheart, what are you talking about…of course, Sammy needs you." When her eyes fell, he nodded in understanding, "Ah…he doesn't NEED you anymore. I'm sorry, sweetheart…but you expected him to come to that conclusion around now."
She sniffed, "I know…it's just that I didn't expect it to be, exactly today. When I sat down with him in the rocker, he told me he was a 'big boy' today…and he just wanted me to sing his Pooh song." As she continued to softly cry, he held her and ran his fingers through her hair. After several minutes, she began to confide, "My last baby's not a baby anymore…he's a little man. I'm gonna miss our special time together. I waited so long to have children, and they're growing up so fast."
"You can still have a special time…you just need a new nighttime activity, Mac."
She wiped her eyes, "I know…I just can't believe that Sophie's 5 and Sammy's already 2. It's seems like just yesterday, we were worrying in the NICU."
He kissed her forehead and then shifted her further into his arm, "Hey, I've got something for you…a present…two, actually. This seems like the perfect time to give them to you."
He extended his hand, in front of both of them, and opened his fingers to revel a small wrapped box. She gave a small pained smile, "Harm, it's not my birthday…it's Sammy's."
He wrapped his free arm around her tighter and squeezed, "This is in celebration of Sammy. I'm just a little late."
She swallowed and took the gift box from his hand. Gingerly, she removed the wrappings and opened the box. Immediately, tears filled her eyes again, "Oh, Harm…how did you find it?"
He smiled against her shoulder, "The same artist that made the one for David…pick it up and look closer."
She removed the gold charm from the box and studied its intricate detail. It was a miniature gold gift box, complete with an elaborate gilded bow. In the center knot of the ribbon was a small diamond. She gently fingered the delicate charm and turned it over. On the bottom, she noticed some unusual lettering. "Harm, what does this mean?"
He kissed her ear and whispered, "It's Hebrew for 'God'." He touched a small clasp on the front of the box, "Open it." As she released the small clasp, she gasped. Inside the box, was a pair of silver hands, cupped together, holding a delicate golden teddy bear. He touched the bear, "Samuel Matthew, was because 'God had heard' our secret prayers and granted our utmost desire, in the 'Gift' of our son."
She released a shuddered breath and turned in his embrace, "Thank you…it's beautiful."
He kissed her forehead, eyes, cheeks and finally her lips. "Your welcome…I love you."
"I love you, too."
He gently rocked her for several minutes until she visibly calmed. Reaching behind him, once again, he retrieved one more larger gift box. "I have one more present for you…for us, actually."
She released a shuddering chuckle, "I don't know if I can handle anymore surprises tonight."
He kissed her cheek, "It's OK…this one's something to look forward too."
She removed the gift-wrap and lid, gently lifting the tissue paper and peered into the box. "Harm, what's this about." She puzzled as she lifted the envelopes from the box.
He took each envelope in turn, "Airline tickets and reservations for Kiawah Island…the end of September. I thought we could go away for a long weekend and reconnect."
She looked back at him, "All of us?"
He shook his head, "Nope, just you and me. Sammy just made the decision easier to accept." At her look of uncertainty, he continued, "My Mom and Frank are gonna come stay with the kids…and I already put in for leave for the two of us…say yes, Mac."
"But we've never both been away from the kids at the same time…I'm not sure…"
"Sarah, the kids love Gummy and Papa…and it's only for a long weekend…4 days to be exact. We need this…like we talked about…Please?"
She smiled at his pleading 'little boy' look. "Yes…Yes Sailor, we can slip away together, for a quiet…romantic…private…weekend…just the two of us," was uttered between kisses. The earlier tears were forgotten, in the pursuit of more enjoyable activities.
xxxxx
The Friday night, 2 weeks later, Harm came home to the soulful romantic sounds of soft jazz, emanating from the stereo. He could smell the faint fragrance of citrus wafting from the kitchen. He stepped into the hallway and dropped his briefcase and cover. "Mac…kids…anyone home?"
"In here," came the seductive drawl from the kitchen.
He walked toward the inviting sounds and fragrances that threatened to overwhelm his now heightened senses. He paused in the doorway as he watched Mac sway around the kitchen, in time to the rich sensuous music. She was dressed in a light floral skirt that swirled around her calves as she moved. Her sleeveless top was made of a rich coral colored silk that highlighted the rosy glow of her cheeks. He smiled when he looked down and saw her bare feet complete with coral painted nails and a toe ring.
He glanced further around the room and noticed the table was set with crisp linens, china and crystal intermixed with candles and tropical flowers. He was roused from his daydreams by a soft whispering voice, "Hey Sailor…do intend to come in and stay for awhile?" A slight grin played at his lips, as she moved into his space. She placed a hand under his chin and tipped a spoon to his mouth, "Taste…tell me what think?" The tangy citrus sauce exploded with flavor on his tongue. As she withdrew the spoon, she leaned forward to kiss him and flicked her tongue across his lips, "Mmmm…tastes good, doesn't it." She danced away from his grasp before he could pull her in, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
He swallowed hard, "Ah Mac…where are the kids?"
She laughed, waving a hand, "Gone."
His eyes widened, "Ah, gone where?"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the counter. "Bradley took them for the night. Charlie wanted a sleep-over." She handed him a glass with a cool fruit drink concoction.
His mouth hung open, "Both of them…even Sammy?"
She winked and laughed, "Yes, Harm…even Sammy. Charlie wanted to play big brother tonight. I thought this would be a perfect test run for a night without the kids." She kissed him quickly on the lips.
His eyes grew wider, "So, it's just you and me?"
She moved past him, dragging a hand over his chest, "You're a little slow on the uptake tonight, Sailor. I thought we could enjoy a romantic evening of cooking, eating…and other things." She grinned again, "It's been a while."
His mind was starting to kick into gear with images of the evening's potential activities. He waggled his brow, "What's on the menu."
"Think tropical," she smiled back, "…but first you need to get out of that uniform. I set your evening's attire on the bed."
He smirked, "You're picking out my clothes, now?"
She moved past again, whispering in his ear, "I planned the evening…I get to pick the attire. Now get moving."
He kissed her cheek and then pulled back, "Yes, ma'am…be back in a minute. Don't start without me…better yet, you could come with me."
She pulled away from his grasp, "Nuh uh, dessert is for later."
He disappeared up the stairs, shaking his head. On the way home, he'd been hoping for a relaxing weekend, but in his wildest imagination, he'd never dreamed up this scenario. He stripped and jumped into the shower. Toweling dry, he started into the bedroom to get dressed, but quickly reversed direction back to the master bath. Mac had gone out of her way to plan a romantic evening; the least he could do was play up his part as well. He quickly shaved and applied cologne and aftershave. He smiled, it was Mac's favorite scent; he could play the role of tempter just as well as his wife. He looked at the clothes laid out on the bed. Tonight was definitely casual, island attire.
He descended the stairs and sauntered back into the kitchen, Mac's eyes widened in appreciation. He was dressed in natural linen knee-length shorts and a steel blue loose-woven silk sweater. His hair was still damp and tousled from the shower and he also sported bare feet. She circled him slowly, nodding approval, "Looking good, Navy."
He smiled, "I don't seem to remember these particular garments being a part of my wardrobe, Marine."
She stroked her hand down his back, his muscles rippling under her touch, "Ummm, soft. I had an early day today…I went shopping for some clothes for our weekend getaway. I knew you would look good in this sweater…the color brings out the blue in your eyes." She caressed his face and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek."
He pulled her into his embrace and nibbled back on her lips, "You look pretty amazing yourself."
She grabbed his hand and spun away, "Come with me…we have food to prepare."
He grinned, "Yes, ma'am…what's on the menu?" She tipped a glass to his lips before taking a drink herself. His eyes widened at the taste, "Mmmm, that's good…what is it?"
"The menu tonight is tropical island cuisine…fish…citrus. The drink is a combination of sweet oranges, lemons, simple syrup and a pina colada coconut mix." She pulled him to the counter, "We'll start with a salad of baby greens, toasted coconut, fresh pineapple, and almonds, tossed in a citrus vinaigrette and topped with lemon herbed marinated shrimp and goat cheese." She offered him a marinated shrimp. He grasped her hand taking the shrimp from her with his mouth and sucking the citrus marinated from her fingers.
She smiled and pulled him toward the cook top, "Moving on…we're have grilled sea bass with a citrus sauce…toasted orzo with coconut and almonds…and for dessert…" she opened the refrigerator door and withdrew a covered glass dish. She lifted the cover to expose a rich decadent treat, "Coconut Macadamia Nut Torte with a White Chocolate Mousse Filling." He inhaled the tantalizing mixture of smells, from nuts to chocolate to toasted coconut, and reached down to drag his finger through the luscious creamy topping. She pulled the dish back from his reach, "I don't think so, Mister. I seem to remember a similar event a month or two ago…no fingerprints in my dessert."
He grinned, and pulling her into his embrace, leaned down to kiss her passionately. While he had her attention diverted to more enjoyable endeavors, he reached out to the dessert plate and snagged a large dollop of the creamy mousse topping. As he pulled back, he licked the cream from the tip of his finger, "Mmmm…delicious."
Mac stood with mouth agape, "Harm…I can't believe you just did that!"
He smirked and grabbed another finger-full of topping. "Mac, as I recall…last time I was found guilty of a crime I didn't commit. I figure you owe me one indiscretion." He extended his cream covered finger to her mouth, "Here…live dangerously."
Her eyes twinkled as she engulfed his finger in her mouth and swirled her tongue over the surface. His eyes dilated as a blush rose to his cheeks. "You're right, Harm…I should live dangerously."
He gulped, "Maybe we should put the dessert away for now…concentrate on dinner," he breathed in and out deeply, "…otherwise we may never get around to the food."
She giggled, "You are so busted, Flyboy. Come on…why don't you start on the orzo while I cut up the ingredients for the salad."
They moved gracefully around the kitchen; slicing, sautéing and grilling was intermixed with tastes, caresses and kisses. Final flourishes of grated lemon peel, toasted nuts and coconut were added before they sat down to enjoy a slow casually-elegant dinner. He chuckled at the apropos oxymoron; here they sat in linen, silk and bare feet enjoying a tropical feast over china, crystal, candles and flowers. The conversation was decidedly adult, the topics of work and children, banished for the night. Dessert was shared by the spoonful, before they retired for the night, leaving the less pleasurable task of clean up for the morning after.
In the early morning hours, Mac reached out to find Harm's side of the bed cold and empty. She wrapped herself in the silk robe, at the foot of the bed, and went in search of her missing husband. Passes through the bathroom, kitchen and family room failed to reveal her lost mate. Just as she was about to return to the master bedroom, she heard a faint sound coming from Sammy's room. She quietly entered the room and found Harm rocking in the chair, illuminated only by the moonlight dancing through the windows. He was gently stroking Sammy's teddy bear. She approached cautiously so as not to startle him and reached out to run her fingers lightly through his hair. "Harm, sweetheart…are you OK? What are you doing in here?"
He said nothing for several minutes, before responding in a whisper, "I miss them…I never imagined I could miss them this much in just one night."
She walked around to the front of him to caress his cheek, and he pulled her into his lap. He buried his face in her neck and she felt the faint wetness of a tear. She kissed his cheek as her fingers continued to play in the hair at the back of his neck. "Hey, it's OK…I miss them too. How are we ever going to survive a weekend away from them?"
He sighed, "I don't know. I wasn't prepared to be away from them tonight. Maybe it will be better, if we plan ahead."
They sat in silence for several minutes more, before she rose from his lap and gave a tug to his hand. "Come on Daddy…it's time to go back to bed. They'll be home soon."
xxxxx
Over the next month, the Rabbs moved on to achieve bigger and better milestones. Sammy decided he was a big boy and no longer wanted baby things, including diapers. The problem arose when he refused to use the training potty. He reasoned, 'that the powtty chaiwr was for girwls' and he wanted to 'stwand up at da big powtty wike Daddee.' After several misses, messes and disasters, Harm came up with a battle plan to assist his miniature sailor in the success of his mission. Placing a step in front of the toilet was solution #1, solution #2 involved tossing a few Cheerios into the toilet water and telling Sammy to 'aim and shoot to sink' the target. Sammy had great fun with the new game and after several days became an expert marksman. Sophie had never been that easy to train.
The next milestone, that came to pass, was Sophie's first day of kindergarten. The Rabb kids had always enjoyed daycare at the Roberts' home. The need to leave the pack and attend school solo was a scary endeavor, for the parents. Sophie, on the other hand, reveled in her chance at independence. She'd thrived in her summer soccer league, enlarging her circle of acquaintances and making new friends. Her only compliant, with school, was that Charlie couldn't attend with her. She thrilled to the idea of new clothes, shoes, backpack, school supplies and any other fashion or education related accoutrement, she could con her Mama into…Daddy was an even easier sale. The first day of school resulted in smiles and tears…the first from Sophie, the later from Mama and Daddy…their baby was growing up.
xxxxx
The last weekend in September, Harm and Mac left for their private weekend retreat on Kiawah Island. Sammy and Sophie were thrilled with the idea of spending a few days being indulged and spoiled by Gummy Trish and Papa Frank. Harm and Mac, on the other hand, both tried to hide tears all the way to the airport. Once they arrived on the island, frequent phone calls home were intermixed with island activities. The weather in late September was perfect, temperatures only reached the low 70's to 80's, and the fall humidity was pleasantly tolerable. As per their prior visit, they once again enjoyed golf, cycling, dining out and walks on the beach.
On their final night, they packed a picnic basket full of gourmet treats and headed out to enjoy dinner on the beach. At dusk, they walked hand in hand, through the surf, as the setting sun put on a dazzling display of artwork in warm hues of purples and pinks. There was a pleasant ocean breeze that kept the waves rolling onto the shore. As the wind picked up, Mac dropped his hand to reign in her wayward skirt.
He stood, a few feet away, watching her dance through the surf in the fading evening light. She was wearing a lightweight flowing sundress that swirled around her legs in the breeze. She had sandals in one hand and alternated the second between grasping her dress and brushing the hair from her face. He smiled as she retrieved yet another conch shell for the kids. She was breathtaking in the dim light of the setting sun; a vision as best described by Byron. He stood transfixed and began to quietly recite the poetic words to the wind, as if it alone were his only audience.
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And of all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Mac paused to look back at her husband and smiled, "Is that poetry I hear you quoting…because in all my dreams, I never imagined Harmon Rabb quoting poetry."
He blushed at being caught and grabbed her hand to pull her back to the blanket. Once he had her settled back against his chest, he smiled into her ear, "It's Lord Byron…I haven't thought about that passage in years. After my ramp strike, Gram spent weeks, at my bedside in the hospital, reading poetry to help me relax. Once I retreated to the farm to recuperate, there wasn't a lot I could do. I was still recovering from my injuries and couldn't help out with the farm. Gram was never much for television, so we spent a lot of time reading and talking. Poetry turned out to be a way to escape, along with refurbishing Sarah. I pretty much forgot about it after I'd recovered and faced the review board. A couple of years later, a law school professor got me started again."
She turned back to look at him with a puzzled expression, "Law school…what does law school have to do with poetry. I know it wasn't a required course at Duke."
He shifted back to recline on his side so he could look into her face. Reaching up, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "He thought it would help with my confidence and presentation before the jury. I was always outgoing and cocky as a pilot, but engineering and aeronautical courses hardly prepare you to present a closing argument. I had to switch gears in order to present a passionate oratory to sway a jury. The professor swore that quoting poetry helped in the presentation. Which passage, I chose to recite would depend upon the case. If it was based on facts alone and I wanted to sway the jury to convict, I would use dramatic or military passages, such as Shakespeare's 'Julius Cesar' or 'Macbeth' or Dante's 'Inferno'. If I wanted to sway them with an emotional appeal then I would use poetry," he slyly grinned, "…love poems mostly."
She squinted back, "Love poems, huh? I never took you for a love poem kinda guy; although, you were the master at passionate appeals in the courtroom. Your closing arguments sometimes swayed me…even when I was the opposing counsel." She shook her head, "Poetry…I'll have to remember that one." She paused to study him further, "So did you ever recite poetry to any of your past loves?"
He grew serious, "Only one…and it was a long time ago."
He watched her visibly deflate as she whispered, "Diane?"
He took her hand, "No Mac, not Diane…our relationship never came close to that level of intimacy."
"Then who?"
He kissed her wrist, "You…only with you, Sarah."
She looked back stunned, "Me? Harm, I know there were times when I appeared to be deaf, dumb or blind when it came to you…or times when it seemed, we spoke different languages. But for the life of me, I don't remember any poetry flowing from those beautiful lips."
He continued in quiet voice as if sharing a secret with the wind, "I did it for years in my most private thoughts and secret dreams. At first, it was when I went up against you in court…you know, to get an edge. But eventually, it happened in my best dreams and quiet reflections…just between you and me. I couldn't admit it to you, anymore than I could admit my love. I came close a few times, but I always reigned myself in and found control at the last minute. I finally stopped indulging in that particular illusion, all together, about 7 or 8 years ago," he continued on in a barely audible whisper, "…when I gave up hope…after…"
She looked down into his sad face and finished his thought, "Paraguay."
He nodded, "Yeah…I never recited poetry again after experiencing that soul-killing debacle. I thought I'd lost you for good that time, I didn't see the point of the indulgence anymore." He looked back into her face and startled, as if noticing her for the first time, "I'm sorry, Mac. I don't know where all that came from…I thought I'd buried it and moved on."
She tilted her head and studied him carefully. "Harm, do you think you might ever be persuaded to recite poetry again…to me…seeing as I was never privy to the gifts of your talent the first time around?"
He looked away, "I don't know, Mac. It's been years…I don't know if I remember anymore. Besides, it's one thing to share in your dreams…it's quite another to…I just don't know."
She stroked his cheek, "I understand being unsure…afraid. I suppose it's kind of like bearing your soul…but we share everything else with each other? While I know it's not exactly the same, I think it's similar to my painting…when I painted the kid's rooms, especially Sammy's…I was trying to express my hopes and dreams for them. Does that make sense?"
"I guess…I still don't think I can," he shook his head, "…I mean, I'm not sure I remember most of them anymore."
She stared out at the ocean and replied in a melancholy tone, "You remembered Byron just fine…maybe I'm not the inspiration I used to be."
He sat up quickly and pulled her into his arms, "No sweetheart…that's not it at all. I'm not sure I could make you understand the depths…I don't know how to explain it." He paused a moment, "It's one thing to perform before a jury…it quite another to make a fool of yourself before the woman you love."
She looked back puzzled, "Why would you say that? I could never think of you as foolish. Who better to let go with…to bare your soul to…than the one person who loves you most?"
He kissed her ear before whispering, "Your right…you've always been my strongest supporter and fiercest guardian," he grinned, "…but that still doesn't mean I remember any poetry."
She raised her brow in challenge, "You were doing a pretty good job with Byron a moment ago; maybe you could start there."
He shook his head, "No, if I'm gonna recite a passage of poetry to you, it shouldn't be one that's over used and misquoted…it should be special. I don't want Shakespeare's sonnets or the 'Sonnets From the Portuguese', not that they aren't beautiful words…I want it to be something with a special meaning."
She frowned, "Are you saying that Elizabeth Barrett Browning's, 'Sonnet From the Portuguese', doesn't have a special meaning?"
"No…it's just that, I'm not sure I can do justice to the words," he shook his head and sighed, "…or rather, I'm not sure that I can make the words do justice to the depth of my feelings for you."
She blinked at the tears in her eyes, "I understand what you're trying to say, and I love you too."
They sat in silence enjoying the stars, the wind, the sounds, the fragrances and each other. Finally he pointed toward the sky, "Pick a star and make a wish."
She shook her head, "No."
He leaned forward to look into her eyes, "What do you mean, no? You don't want to pick a star…or you don't want to make a wish?"
She whispered, "No, I don't NEED to pick a star or make wish…I already have everything I could ever want."
He kissed her cheek and repeated in kind, "I understand what you're saying, and I love you too." He extended his hand and revealed a small delicate box. Opening the now familiar gift, she gazed at the unique design of the gold charm. Its body was composed of two interlinking golden hearts, open at their centers, but joined intimately at their sides. Suspended between the hearts, at their joining, were three small diamonds.
"What does it mean?"
He wiped her tears and explained, "It's an expression of our love…one soul joined in two hearts. The three jewels represent the most exquisite outward testament of our love…Sophie…David…and Sammy."
She buried her face in his neck and began to cry. He gently rocked her in his arms until the tears lessened, then placing his lips against her forehead in a gossamer touch as light as butterfly wings, he began to recite.
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? My love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be—
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not 'mine' or 'thine';
With separate 'I' and 'thou' free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of 'thine that is not mine';
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
xxxxx
AN: Poetry
George Gordon Byron (Lord Byron, 1788-1824); (She walks in Beauty).
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894); Monna Innominata, Sonnet #4 (I loved you first.)