Part 17b of two parts—(PLEASE NOTE: Read Part 17a first)
Two hours later, the nurse found Mac quietly sitting in the chair. As she scurried around the room attending to her patient, adjusting the IV, taking his vital signs, she paused to look at the exhausted woman at his bedside. Although her patient's wife was clearly a beautiful woman, she could see the lines of concern and the tear streaks on her cheeks. Her hair was mussed from nervous fingers and the sweatshirt she wore was obviously several sizes to large, engulfing her small frame. Finishing up with her duties, the nurse stood next to Mac, "Good evening, Mrs. Rabb. I'm Helen…I'll be your husband's nurse this evening. Can I get you anything?"
Mac shook her head and responded in a monotone voice, "No, thank you. I'm fine."
She kneeled down to eye level, "Are you sure? Mr. Rabb won't like it, if you're sick when he wakes up."
Mac stared straight ahead, "It's Captain…he's in the Navy, but he'd prefer it if you called him, Harm."
Helen smiled, "Harm it is. Now how about something to eat or drink…coffee…juice, maybe?"
Mac looked at the persistent nurse and smiled, "Juice would be nice, thank you."
Helen winked, "Coming right up. I'll be back in a minute."
When she returned, Helen had a tray with juice, crackers, cookies and fruit. "I thought you might like something to munch on later." She opened up a blanket and placed it over Mac's lap, "I noticed you shivering earlier, maybe this will help. Can I get you anything else?"
"No, thank you for these." Mac reached over to take Harm's hand, "When do think he might wake up?"
The nurse shrugged, "It's hard to say. He doesn't have a head injury that we can tell. It might help if you talked to him…he can hear you, you know."
Mac rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall again, "I have been…it's just that it's been a really long, emotional day."
Helen moved back to the other side of the bed and began to check the fingers on the casted arm, "I heard what happened. I can't imagine what it must be like to be told your husband had died then find out he's still alive. I'm sure, you've been through an emotional roller coaster today."
Mac whispered, "You have no idea. It started even before the accident." At the nurse's puzzled expression, she waved her hand, "Never mind…husband-wife thing."
Helen nodded in camaraderie, "Oh yeah, they can drive you nuts sometimes."
Mac smiled, "You have no idea the kind of stunts he's pulled, but I couldn't imagine my life without him." She wiped away her tears.
Helen smiled back, "I just need to check a few things then I'll leave you two alone for a while." The nurse looked at the suture sites on his face then pulled back the covers to palpate his abdomen.
Mac's eyes widened at the sight of the large bruises on his chest and abdomen. "Oh my gosh…I had no idea." She reached out to run her fingers over his left chest.
"Those are probably from the broken ribs." Mac pulled her hand back as if she'd been stung. The nurse stopped her, "It's OK; you won't hurt him, if you're gentle. Touches and caresses let him know you're here."
Mac chewed on her lip and slowly extended her hand. She lightly traced the bruises over his left chest and laid her hand flat over his upper stomach. Helen smiled once again, "I'm just gonna make sure his Foley catheter is draining OK then I'll be out of your hair.
Mac grimaced at the sight of the large catheter snaking out, "Ouch! He's not going to be happy about that."
Helen grinned, "We'll take it out as soon as he wakes up." She lifted her brow, "It's good incentive to get the patients out of bed."
Mac smirked, "I'm sure it is." She quickly sobered, "How come there's blood all over his face and chest?"
"They tried to clean off some of it in the ER, but with a trauma patient, bathing is the last thing on everyone's mind." At Mac's worried expression, she suggested, "I can clean him up better, a little later in the shift…or I could get you some warm soapy water and linens. You could wash of the blood and dirt…if you want to, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Mac nodded, "I'd like that; it'll give me something to do."
Helen winked, "I'll be right back."
The nurse returned a few minutes later with a basin of warm water, soap and linens. "Here you go. Don't worry about getting the back of him. I can help with that later. It'll take 2 people to turn him, and with his ribs, it'll be a little uncomfortable." She held up a bottle of lotion, "He might like this rubbed into his skin when you're done."
Mac smiled, "Thanks, Helen. I'll let you know if I need anything else." The nurse pulled the curtain around the bed as she left.
Mac pulled the bedside table close and began to wet and soap the washcloth. As she leaned over him, she began to talk, "Don't get to use to this, Flyboy. I expect you to be out of this bed by morning." She gently ran the cloth over his forehead and wiped away the blood. She paused to touch his left eyelid; it was already swollen and purple. "You're gonna have a real shiner here. Everyone will think you went 20 rounds with me. Remember the last one…when we were hashing out the misunderstandings of our past. You tied both of us up with that silly rope, and then forgot and tried walk away. You hit the floor with a thud…you scared me then too. You need to stop doing that, Sailor."
She sniffed back tears and continued to wipe the blood off his face. She scrubbed at some dried blood caked in his hair, sighing in frustration when it wouldn't come loose. "I think that part will have to wait until you can get in a shower or maybe I can shampoo your hair once you're awake." She leaned over to kiss his forehead, "You know any time now would be OK."
When she received no response, she pulled back to continue. Running the warm cloth gently down his neck and over his chest, she removed all the grime from the accident. Covering each wet surface as she finished, she moved onto the right arm and then worked her way around the cast on his left. She noticed the bruising on the fingers of that hand and paused to place a light kiss on each one. She continued down his abdomen and each leg, taking noted of each and every bruise and cut.
The sponge bath complete, she began to apply lotion to every inch of skin she'd just bathed. She finished back at his face. Running her hand over the stubble of his beard, she grimaced at the reminder of the broken razor. "I have a confession to make, Sailor. I kinda got a little angry with you this afternoon," she caressed the lotion into the skin of his cheeks, "…I broke your razor. I didn't mean to, but you're finally going to have to break down and buy a new one. That is, unless you want to grow a beard, but for my sake and the Navy's, I hope you don't." She ran the back of her fingers over the stubble, "I don't want you covering up this beautiful face."
She paused again to look at his face and ran a finger over his forehead. She took in the lines furrowed into his brow, "How many of these are from me?" She leaned over to kiss them then touching his temple, dragged her fingers into the adjacent hair. "You've got a few more gray hairs here…I'll blame those on the kids. It's OK, they just make you look more distinguished," she grinned, "…isn't that the way. Women look older and men look distinguished. I guess I better keep mine covered for a while longer…but that's just our secret." She ran her thumb over his lips then leaned forward to gently kiss them. She pulled back and reached for her purse. "Your lips are a little dry…this will help," she gently rubbed lip balm into them and leaned in to kiss him again. "Much better, Sailor."
Pulling the blanket back over his body, she moved the table away from the bed and opened the curtain. He still wasn't awake; but at least, he'd feel better when he did wake up. She stretched her tired back then grimaced in pain. Her endometriosis was acting up again. This was the kind of night when she craved a long hot bath and a back rub from her husband. She shook her head; tonight it was his turn. Settling back in the chair to nibble on crackers and juice, she didn't hear Helen return. She startled at the hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Rabb. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just checking to see if you needed anything else?"
"It's Mac, and I'm fine thank you."
Helen raised a brow, "Mac? That's an unusual name for a woman."
"It's Sarah, actually…Sarah MacKenzie-Rabb. I'm a marine and Sarah wasn't quite tough enough, back in my early days. So MacKenzie got shortened to Mac. It just stuck after that."
"Your husband name's is a little unusual as well, Harmon."
Mac smiled, "Oh yeah. It's a family name, but he hates being called Harmon. Only his mother and grandmother are allowed to call him that. Of course, going by the name Harm, sets him up for some interesting nicknames." She smirked, "The best one being the SecNav's…Harmful Rabb!"
Helen joined in the laughter, "Your husband sounds like an interesting guy. What does he do in the Navy?"
"He's an attorney with JAG; we both are. That's how we met…in the White House Rose Garden."
The nurse's eyes widened, "You met in THE Rose Garden?"
"Yep, he was being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross by the President."
Helen looked on impressed, "Wow…but I thought you said he was a lawyer?"
Mac grinned, "He is, but he was a fighter pilot first. He still flies sometimes, but mostly CAP flight over the east coast."
"Your husband has a pretty impressive resume."
Mac picked his hand up and caressed the palm, "Yeah he does, but he'll be the first one to tell you that's not the most important part. He's a great father, a caring husband, loyal to a fault and has risked his life on more than one occasion to rescue someone he loves."
"He sounds more like a 'knight-in-shining armor' than a Navy Captain," Helen smiled at the well-used phrase.
Mac leaned over to kiss his hand, "Something like that…he's definitely a one of a kind."
Helen patted her shoulder, "Listen, why don't you get some rest…it'll probably be a long night. I'm right outside if you need anything."
Mac nodded, "Thanks Helen."
Mac fidgeted and turned in the chair, repositioning herself continuously for the next hour. No matter what she tried, she couldn't get comfortable. She never did sleep well out of his arms.
She sighed and got up to use the restroom and walk the hall for a few minutes. When she returned, she sat on the edge of his bed, and careful not to hurt him, leaned in to run her finger through his hair. "Come on, Sailor…you need to wake up, if not for me then for Sophie and Sammy. The kids are gonna want to talk to you in the morning; I can't hold them off much longer. Sophie already senses that something's not right." She gently cupped his cheek and ran her thumb over his lower lip. "I love you, and I'm really sorry about this morning. I don't know how I would have lived with myself, if our last words had been those in anger. I promise to tell you that I love you, every time you leave the house, no matter what else is going on. And no more going to bed angry…we settle everything before sleep…our bed shouldn't be a place to fight. I only want good memories from there."
Receiving no response, she stared at him for several minutes and then grinned, "I wonder if I could kiss you awake? It worked for Snow White and her handsome prince." She looked back toward the door, seeing no one in the hall, she leaned in with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm willing to try if you are," and with that pronouncement, she placed a passionate kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, she was disappointed to see his eyes still closed. As she turned away and sighed, she didn't notice the eye that squinted open in the light. "I guess it was too much to hope for…those kind of things only happen in fairy tales."
She laid down at his side and gently snuggled her head onto his right shoulder. "Since you won't wake up, I guess I can share a secret with you. I bet you didn't know I was studying poetry for you. I think I found a new favorite author, Sir Phillip Sidney. I love it when you quote poetry to me, but I'm not sure I have the same sense of presence or feel for the words. What better time to try it out then when you can't laugh at my feeble attempts." She ran her hand over his chest and sighed, "Here goes, I really do love this passage. I think it's true, how else do explain our connection." She closed her eyes and whispered in recitation to the silent dark room.
By just exchange one for the other given.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it bides.
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
"That's beautiful," came the hoarse whispered reply.
She sat up quickly, "Harm, you're awake!"
He groaned in pain and then licked his dry lips, "What…"
"Just a minute." She reached over to the table to grab the cup of water and placed the straw between his lips. "Here try this."
He sipped the liquid then cleared his throat, "What do…you expect…when you jump…my bones?" He grinned then grimaced in pain at the movement, "That was…some kiss."
Her eyes widened, "It worked?!"
He opened his right eye, "Kiss me…like that…I'll respond every time."
She grinned and leaned over to place a more chaste kiss on his lips, "The pleasures all mine, believe me. You need to stop doing this, Sailor. You scared the hell out of me."
He lifted his right hand to his face and gingerly ran it over the cuts and scraps. "What happened…to me…feel like we went…20 rounds…or something?"
She chuckled, "Are you reading my mind now?"
"What?"
She shook her head, "Never mind…you were in a car accident this morning." She paused, unsure whether to fill in the gaps just yet, "What do you remember?"
He groaned, "I remember…us…fighting."
She instantly deflated and responded with a teary voice, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. I even left a voice mail message to apologize and wish you luck and love…but you didn't get it."
"It's OK…my fault too…I'm sorry…love you too."
She began to cry, "You don't understand. I thought I'd lost you; I didn't want those to be our last words."
He grimaced, "Don't understand…lost me how…what happened?"
She wiped the tears and took a deep breath, "You don't need to worry about that right now. I'll go get the nurse; you should just rest and save your strength."
"Mac…what aren't you…telling me?"
"Please Harm, just let it go for now. I promise we'll talk in the morning, but now you need to rest. I'm so glad you're awake and that you're gonna be fine. There's nothing to worry about, just a few bumps, bruises and broken bones." She walked out of the room to find Helen.
When they returned, Helen approached with a smile, "Hello Captain Rabb. It's nice to see you awake. How's the pain."
"Hurts a lot."
She pulled a syringe from her pocket, "I can help you with that. I just need to ask you a few questions first. Obviously you know who you and your wife are. Do you know what day it is?"
"Saturday."
"Good…how about where you are?"
He grimaced, "Hospital…not sure…probably Blacksburg."
She smiled, "That's right, you're in Blacksburg…that good enough for now. You probably noticed you have a few abrasions and stitches. You also have a fractured left arm and 2 fractured ribs on the left side. I need to do a quick examination then I'll give you some Morphine to help with the pain." She listened to his heart and lungs then palpated his abdomen. He groaned in pain as she pushed on his upper abdomen. "Does that hurt?"
"Just a little…hurts to breath. Need to use the head." Helen glanced at Mac in question.
Mac smiled, "Navy term…he means he needs to use the restroom."
Helen nodded, "Ah, well that won't be necessary, Captain. You have a Foley catheter in place; you're probably just feeling bladder spasms from the balloon."
Harm groaned, "Hate those things."
Helen patted his shoulder, "We should be able to take it out in the morning. I'll give you the Morphine injection, that should help with the spasms too." She injected the medication as she was talking. Harm was out before she finished. She turned to Mac, "Is there anything else you need?"
Mac smiled back, "No, not at all. I have everything I could ever want, and I'll never take it for granted again. Thanks for all your help, Helen."
The nurse winked as she let the room, "It's my pleasure, Mac. I'm glad he's finally awake…now get some rest yourself. That's an order, in the ICU I have rank."
Mac laughed, "I will…thanks again."
xxxxx
Harm was transferred out of the ICU on Sunday and discharged to home by Monday. He was sullen and quiet over the death of one of his best friends. They drove to the Roberts' home late Monday afternoon to retrieve their kids. Sammy was ecstatic to see his Mama and Daddy after a two-day absence. Sophie was withdrawn and moody. She wasn't sure what all had transpired, but she knew her best friend, Charlie, had left with his grandparents and everyone seemed to be sad. Harm and Mac had discussed Charlie's future and both agreed to take him in, if his grandparents weren't able to provide care. The offer turned out to be unnecessary; with the loss of their only son, Mr. and Mrs. Michaelson were only too happy to still have their grandson. Charlie would be moving to Richmond, Virginia.
That evening, Harm and Mac sat down with their children to explain the events of the weekend. Sammy was tearful at the news of the loss of his Uncle Bradley, but like a typical 4 year old, he didn't quite comprehend the permanence of death. He settled into bed and was fast asleep at an early hour; happy just to know his family was back home. Sophie was another story all together. She was sad and clingy; she didn't understand how her father could be OK, but Charlie's dad had gone to heaven. She couldn't comprehend a world in which she wouldn't see her best friend every day. It took several hours to calm her down and get her to sleep; she sobbed as her world crumbled around her.
By 22:00, Harm and Mac were both exhausted and in pain. Harm scrubbed his fingers through his matted hair. "Ah…I just want a shower. I want to wash all this junk out of my hair and relax my sore muscles."
She came up behind him, "Harm, there's no way you can get in the shower by yourself. You can barely move with your ribs, and you can't get that cast wet."
He grumped, "I just want to get clean and relax…is that too much to ask?"
"No…come on I have an idea," she tugged on his hand to get him moving then supported his weight up the stairs. He failed to notice the look of pain in her eyes as she rubbed a hand over her back. She maneuvered him into the master bathroom, "Here, sit down on the side of the tub a minute." Pouring eucalyptus bath salts into the tub, she adjusted the water to a comfortable hot. "Come on, let's get you out of these clothes," she tugged on his shirt and pants.
He sighed, "I thought I couldn't get my cast wet."
She looked at him exasperated, "You won't get it wet; I'll help you. Now stand up a minute so I can get these off." He grumbled all the way to his feet and 'humphed' as she removed the clothes. She shook her head and moved into his personal space, "Do you think you could lose the attitude," she raised a brow then smiled, "…I'm just trying to help."
He looked back sheepishly, "Sorry."
She leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. "That's OK…I know you hurt…here," she ran her hand lightly over the extensive bruise on his left side and then leaned over to place a kiss on his chest over his heart, "…and here."
He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her back, "Thanks for putting up with me."
"No problem," she looked toward the ceiling try to prevent tears from falling, "…when I think of the alternative."
He wiped away the tears and whispered back, "I know."
She pulled back and placed an arm around his waist, "Let's get you in the tub." As he stepped into the water, his foot slipped forward. They braced against each other and each let out a howl of pain. She steadied him in place and reached for a hand towel. "Hang on a second." She placed the towel flat on the floor of the tub then reached back to him. "That should give you a more solid surface. Let's try this again." The second attempt proved successful and he settled into the hot water with a sigh of relief.
He reached for a washcloth then sighed in frustration as he looked at his cast. "Ah Mac, I think I'm going to need some help."
She knelt next to tub, once again closing her eyes against the pain in her back. She tapped on his back, "Lean forward a little so I can scrub your back."
He tried, unsuccessfully, to move, "I can't…it hurts too much and I can't get leverage without getting my cast wet." He huffed, "This was a stupid idea. How am I gonna get back out this tub or do you expect me to sleep in here?" She turned away as the tears began to fall. She'd been trying to hold them in for the last 2 days, but the emotions, pain and frustration were finally taking their toll. Harm heard her sniff and turned his head in her direction, "Mac? Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she whispered.
He felt about 2 feet tall; she'd been trying to help and he was taking his pain and frustration out on her. "I'm sorry…I'll try and do this by myself…"
She cut him off, "No, I'll help…I just…Owww." She leaned over the tub and couldn't hide her cry of pain at the movement.
"Mac, what's wrong!"
She sat back on her haunches and rubbed her back, "My back's been bothering me for the last few days."
His eyes widened, "And you've been trying to help lift and move me? Sweetheart, why didn't you say something?"
She winced once more, "There was nothing you could do. It's just my endometriosis flaring up again." She gingerly stood and began to remove her clothes, "I have an idea."
His eyes widened further, "What are you doing, Mac. Not that I would mind, but I'm hardly in the condition to…"
She smirked and shook her head, "Red light…get your mind out of the gutter, Sailor. If I get in the tub behind you, I can help without bending over…and it'll be easier to help get you out." She tapped his shoulder, "Try and move forward just a little." He slowly maneuvered and she climbed in behind, pulling him back against her chest. Once comfortable, she sighed in relief, "Aaah, I've been wanting a hot bath for days. You mind if we just relax like this for a minute?"
"Not at all…it's the most comfortable I've been in a while, too." He picked up her hand and placed a kiss on the palm, "I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the neck the last few days."
She cupped her hand and began to pour water over his hair, "Don't worry about it, you've been through a lot."
He smirked, "I notice you're not denying my 'pain in the neck' status."
She grinned as she rubbed shampoo into his hair and massaged his scalp. "Why should I deny the truth?" then sobered, "Like I said, I'll take you this way over the alternative."
He was quiet for several minutes while she finished shampooing and rinsing his hair. As she picked up the washcloth and began to wash his skin, he spoke softly, "It should have been me, you know. Bradley shouldn't have died."
She stopped her movements and responded harshly, "Don't say that…don't even think it. I feel horrible for Bradley and Charlie, but I won't feel sorry that you're alive."
His voice cracked, "But if I'd just listened to you…you were right. I knew I hadn't told you about my plans and I knew I'd promised to take the kids to the country that day. If I hadn't been hell bent on flying…Bradley would still be alive."
She pulled his head back to her shoulder and looked in his eyes, "You listen to me…Bradley knew what he was doing that day. He made his own decision to go with you. The weather conditions and the flat tire were not your fault." She ran her finger over his cheek, "What do you think would have happened if we took the kids that day? The weather would have still been bad, and we could've still had a flat tire. The only difference would have been that the kids and I would have been hurt, and you would have been the one changing the tire…the one to be…" she closed her eyes as the tears began to fall.
He turned his head to kiss her hand, "I'm sorry, Sarah. I…"
She continued in a soft, tearful voice, "You don't understand. I was so scared. I knew the weather was getting worse and I tried to call you…to apologize, to wish you good luck…to tell you I loved you. Your phone went to voice mail, repeatedly. I knew something was wrong…I could sense it. When AJ showed up at the door, I collapsed…I believed him for a moment…I thought you were gone and all I could think was that I didn't tell you I loved you. My whole world ended in that moment." She looked back at him, "But then I put on your sweatshirt and it was like I could feel you again. I had a physical pain in my chest, like you were calling to me. No one would believe me that you were alive. I almost gave up hope when they handed me your flight jacket…and I cried when I discovered that you hadn't gotten my phone message…that our last words and thoughts were in anger. I promised myself and God that I would never again let you leave my side without knowing how much I love you."
His eyes widened in shock and pain at each declaration, "Oh Sarah…I had no idea. I tried to call you too…the reception was bad because of the weather…I couldn't get a signal. And I would never for one second believe that you didn't love me…most of the events of that day were my fault. I'm the one who needs to apologize not you, and I promise to never throw out the words 'I love you' in anger again…love is too precious of an emotion to waste."
She took a deep breath and nodded, "Can I ask you a question?" He nodded in return. "Why was Bradley wearing your flight jacket?"
"He insisted on changing the tire, despite my protests. My jacket was warmer and waterproof…I insisted he wear it, if he was gonna be out in the rain. It never occurred to me that someone would use my jacket and ID to make an erroneous identification. I can't imagine what those hours of grief were like for you."
She smiled, "Like I said…I knew after a few minutes that you weren't gone. I'm afraid AJ and Harriet thought I'd lost my mind, though."
They sat quietly for several minutes, allowing their raw emotions to calm. Finally he spoke again, "Sarah, what do you think about me giving up flying?"
She looked back puzzled, "You mean your wings?"
He shook his head, "My license…wings, my plane, everything. If I hadn't been flying this wouldn't have happened."
"Harm, sweetheart…that's a decision only you can make, but don't make a rash decision based on a single event…or because you think it's what the kids or I would want. I could understand you giving up your wings; you've got a very limited time span to keep flying for the Navy anyway, but there's no reason to give up Sarah. You love to fly. It's part of what makes you…you. I don't want you to lose that; besides, your kids can't wait to be old enough to go up flying with you."
He replied sadly, "I'll think about it, but you're wrong…flying isn't that important, not anymore. You and the kids make me who I am…flying is just…flying. If I quit tomorrow it would be OK, but I never want to lose you or our life…and I'm not sure I want to take that risk anymore."
She kissed his temple, "Thank you for the offer, but please think about it, first. I can't imagine you not teaching Sammy to fly…I always thought you would teach our son to fly."
He settled more comfortable against her chest and leaned his head into her neck, "Mac?"
She smiled at his movements, "Yeah?"
"You know that poetry passage you were quoting when I woke up?"
She frowned, "Sir Phillip Sidney? Yeah, what about it?"
He picked up her hand, "Would you tell me again? I'm not sure I was lucid enough to understand most of it."
She wrinkled her nose, "I don't know, sweetheart. I'm not the orator that you are. I didn't think you could hear me when I recited it."
"What I remember was beautiful…something about sharing our hearts. You didn't mean it?"
She placed her lips softly against his temple, "Of course I meant it…how else do explain this connection that we have?"
He placed a kiss on her palm and laid their joined hands over his heart, "Then tell me again…Please?"
She kissed his temple and began to recite, "'My true love hath my heart and I have his…'"
xxxxx
AN: Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586); The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia, Book III, (My true love hath my heart).