Reconnecting

Saturday afternoon
Second week of November
Church
"Listen everyone, this is Mr. Rabb. Mr Rabb is going to help us with the sets and the props."
Mac stood a bit aside and watched. She knew Harm would be willing to help. And he looked good enough to eat in his well-worn jeans, a black polo and a dark blue sweater. Sh*t, where was that coming from? She had a boyfriend, she reminded herself.
In the meantime Lena had gathered the children around her and was now trying to get her attention. Mac joined the group, determined not let her attention – and eyes – stray. Luckily a group of over twenty excited children would demand all of her focus.
In the meantime Lennard and Harm disappeared into the backroom, where Lennard had set up a little workshop. Both grabbed a tool and started to work, Lennard drilling holes and Harm sawing beams to measure. It wasn't before long though he felt some eyes resting on him and when he looked up, there was a boy, approximately ten years old, standing a few feet away.
"Hi," Harm said, straightening his back. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ron. I like carpentry."
"That's great. You do carpentry at home?"
"No. My mum thinks it's too dangerous. My dad was going to teach me, but …" he swallowed and felt silent.
'Better not ask further,' Harm thought.
"No one else to teach you?" he asked instead.
"Gramps, but he and Nana live in White Silver Springs, West Virginia. That's about five hours driving." The boy sat himself on a little stool. "We'll go there in a few weeks, when Nana has her birthday."
"That's nice. But shouldn't you be rehearsing?"
"It isn't my turn yet. I'm one of the three wise men."
For a moment Harm was at lost what to do. He didn't want to go on as if the boy wasn't there, but he didn't want to question further either. He shifted his knee and immediately the wood he was working on started to sag.
"Hey, maybe you can lend me a hand then, until they call you for your part?" he suggested.
The boy jumped up, clearly eager.
"What do I have to do?"
"If you can hold that end of the timber," Harm pointed with his chin. "You don't have to do anything, just keep it from moving."
The boy did as he was told and Herm started sawing again. It didn't take long before he was finished and then he placed both pieces leaning to the wall, before grabbing the next length of 2x2. Immediately the boy was at hand to hold one end and Harm gave him an approving little nod. In silence they worked their way through seven more.
"What are they going to be?" Ron wanted to know.
"This is going to be the stable," Harm explained. "eight posts on each side. I'm now going to attach the boards." He proceeded with showing how to mark out the points where the screws would go in, but before Ron could have a go, Mac poked her head in.
"Ron, are you coming? It's the wise men's part."
Reluctant the boy walked to the door. At the doorstep he turned around.
"Can I come and help you again next week, Sir?"
"Sure, kiddo." Harm smiled.

It was almost six when Harm and Mac walked out of the door. Heading towards the parking lot he asked "Plans for tonight?"
"Nope," Mac replied. "Mic's out with friends and except for one or two chores nothing planned for the rest of the weekend."
"Care for dinner tonight?" He was careful not to show he awaited her answer with bated breath. But he didn't need to be afraid.
"Sounds good," Mac answered. "Any ideas?"
They had reached the car and he tossed her the keys.
"Can you drive?" I have to call someone."
Mac's brows rose in a question.
"I have that friend, Luciano. He just started a small Italian restaurant. I helped out with some carpentry and he wanted to 'pay me back'. Of course I said that wasn't necessary, but he insisted, so I have a few free meals to look forward to. He is a very good cook and taught me some things as well. We already agreed I would eat there today, but I'm going to call him to see whether he has room for a second person as well."
A moment later he was talking into his cell phone and when he ended the conversation there was a satisfied smile on his face.
"All settled," he told Mac and proceeded with giving her the directions.

Twenty minutes later they entered the restaurant and were greeted by a smiling, very Italian man who hugged Harm and kissed Mac's hand.
"Welcome, welcome," he beamed. "I reserved my best table for you."
And indeed, they had good seats, a bit aside in a private booth with a view of the park. Luciano came with the menus.
"What can you recommend?" Harm asked.
"For you, as vegetarian, I would say spaghetti with pumpkin and cheese," the cook told them. "And you?" He looked questioning at Mac.
"I love meat," she assured him.
"My bolognaise sauce is to die for," Luciano laughed.
Mac's face lit up; she loved spaghetti bolognaise.
"Right, one spaghetti zucca e pecorino and one spaghetti bolognaise coming up. What would you like to drink?"
"A white wine for me and soda water with a twist for the lady," Harm answered.
Julio snapped his fingers and the waiter, who was standing next to the kitchen door rushed to cater to his boss' wishes. It wasn't long before the drinks, a small basket with crusty bread and a little bowl with garlic butter were on the table.
"Shall I be mum?" Mac asked, butter knife already in hand.
"Fine with me," Harm laughed.
They munched the bread and sipped their drinks. 'It felt so good to sit and have dinner with him', Mac pondered, a melancholic expression crossing her face.
"What's wrong?" Harm immediately asked.
"Nothing. It's just … it feels so good having dinner with you. It has been too long …"
Harm nodded silently. Both knew why it had been so long, but neither felt like commenting on it.
Luckily this was the moment Luciano appeared with two plates of spaghetti, topped with a generous helping of sauce.
"Buon appetito," he wished them, before disappearing into the kitchen again.
After the first few bites Mac sighed blissfully.
"He was right; this bolognaise sauce is to die for. You really have to taste." She scooped a bit of spaghetti on her fork and held it up for him. He carefully took her wrist and brought the food to his mouth.
"Mmmm, you're right," he had to admit. Then he took a bit of his own spaghetti and returned the favour.
"Not bad," Mac judged. "For meatless, that is," she added, having him chuckle.
When they were done, the waiter appeared.
"Was everything to your liking?" he asked.
"Yes, it was," Mac answered for both. "My compliments to the cook."
"I'll bring your dessert," the man said and not much later two panna cottas with orange sauce were placed on the table.
While eating her panna cotta Mac looked at Harm. There were things she desperately wanted to discuss, but at the same time she enjoyed her time with him. Would it spoil the mood when … Her thoughts were interrupted by his question.
"What are you thinking?"
So talk it was.
"I was thinking there are things we have to talk about, but at the same time I don't want to spoil our evening," she answered truthfully.
Harm nodded.
"Maybe best we talk now," he voiced his opinion. "We have a tendency to talk about things that matter when we are upset or angry; maybe it's better to talk when we're both relaxed."
"You're right," Mac replied a bit surprised. She hadn't thought about that.
Neither of them noticed Luciano hold back the waiter. He sensed they needed some undisturbed time.
It was silent for a while.
"Why did you need time?" Mac finally asked softly, making sure she didn't sound accusing.
Harm sighed.
"First, you ambushed me. That's not your fault, your proposal would have ambushed me anyway. Over the weeks after Sydney, I gave it a lot of thought. Over the years we told everyone so many times we were just friends … it was what I wanted. Well, I thought it was what I wanted. What I wanted to believe. Even two days earlier Bud had asked me the same question, well, not the same, but if we were only friends. And I said yes. It even irritated me, him asking, again."
He rubbed his hands over the sides of his face.
"It took a hundred eighty degree turn to …" He shook his head helplessly. "It wasn't that I never thought about … imagined …" Again he rubbed his temples, before going on. "I saw you as my friend. My best friend. I wanted see you as my friend. And I wanted it to stay that way, so each time someone suggested us to be more than friends I objected. Objected forcefully. In a way I shouted down whatever feelings I had for you. You're an attractive woman, a very beautiful woman, but whenever I noticed, I forced myself not to look at you in that way. You don't lust after your best friend. And then, when you asked me … it turned my world upside down."
He nervously played with his spoon. Mac saw the tension in his face.
"It wasn't just that I'm not the best relationship material and I never managed to keep a lasting relationship. It was also … I didn't recognize it at the time, Mac, but I was scared. Terrified. I didn't want to lose you. All the women I dated, really dated, not a casual night out … Diane, Annie, Jordan … I all lost them. I couldn't face losing you."
It hit Mac like a ton of bricks. Diane, Annie and Josh, Jordan … two out of three women he had had a serious relationship with were gone, murdered. Put that next the death of his father, the man who had been the centre of his life. She vividly remembered the way he had reacted when he finally had found out who was responsible for Diane's death. And Annie, she had left them and in the process he had lost her son Josh as well. Hadn't she told herself earlier how good he was with kids, including his 'stepson' Josh? He must have missed the kid terribly. To him love and loss must be so entwined. Without thinking she reached out and took his fidgeting hands in hers. He clasped her hands, almost too firmly and took deep breaths to calm himself.
"You are not going to lose me," she whispered vehemently. "You are not going to lose me. Never!"
In an uncharacteristic way he brought her hands to his lips. They sat for some moments until he released her and excused himself for a moment. Sensing his need to a bit of space, she didn't object.
Seeing she was alone now, the waiter approached once more.
"Can I get you something else, ma'am?"
"I think we both would like a coffee," Mac managed to say.
The waiter took their dessert plates and headed for the kitchen. Minutes later he was back with two cups of coffee and a small plate with almond biscotti.
When Harm came back, he was a lot more relaxed. He reached for his coffee and took a few sips. Then he was ready to talk again.
"I said I was only like that with you. That's because you matter, Sarah, so much." He took another sip.
"Back then I thought I had explained it, that I needed time. That you understood. The next thing I knew you're wearing Brumby's ring. What was I supposed to think?"
Mac hung her head. Only now she recognised fully how her actions must have come across.
"It took me some time to set myself straight again. And to recognise why I reacted the way I did. But then … the moment I came to my senses ... You remember I asked you for dinner? I wanted to talk, I was finally ready, but then you cancelled. To help out a friend. Could happen, I thought. It was not that I had told you I was ready to talk. The next thing I knew it was the Justice-Navy ball and there was Brumby."
"I didn't know he was coming," Mac protested.
"I know, now. But back then, it was such a blow. And you took his arm and let him lead you into the dining room, just like he had the right to."
"I couldn't raise a scene, there and then, did I?" Mac softly said. "And you had Renée."
Now it was his turn to hang his head.
"I did," he admitted. "After Sydney, seeing you with his ring, seeing you saying goodbye at the airport, I didn't really care. I thought I had laid my bed. Renée and I already dated once or twice. And she was so excited at the prospect to attend the ball, I just thought, why not, if it pleases her. She is a much nicer woman than you give her credit for. Look how she helped Harriet with her dress."
"True," Mac agreed. "And I guess you know her better than we do."
With a short nod Harm closed the subject 'Renée'. For some moments they were both at loss for words. To prevent the silence from getting awkward Harm caught the waiter's eye and with a circular hand gesture he ordered another round of coffee.
When the fresh cups were on the table, Mac was ready to tackle the next subject. Although it was unfamiliar and maybe even a bit difficult to talk so open with him, she was really pleased with the progress they had made.
"When Mic turned up, I was as surprised and shocked as you all," she said. "He hadn't notified me of his resolution to come to the States. I guess he wanted to surprise me."
"Were you happy with it?" Harm softly asked. He didn't want to pry or to interfere with things not his business, but they were communicating so well now, he wanted to make the most of it.
"Mixed feelings," Mac confessed. "I was glad to see him, but also annoyed, angry maybe he hadn't told me and was ambushing me like that. I didn't know whether I was ready to have a relationship with him. But he was very forthcoming and persuasive and I didn't know how … how to …" she couldn't find the right word to describe her feelings. "He is a good man, Harm. More than you give him credit for. I know you still resent him for accusing me of murder, but looking at the circumstances back then, would you have acted differently?"
Harm refrained from answering; he knew she was right.
"I guess that in a way we both allowed ourselves just to … drift along, I guess. Go with the events," he said instead.
"I guess so," Mac agreed. She was not prepared to tell him yet, that there had been quite a few events and statements from Mic that warranted long and hard thinking. Drifting along, yes, but now it was time to have a good look at where they were drifting to and at what she wanted.
Not knowing what to say next, Harm checked his watch and was surprised to find it was already half past ten. He looked around and indeed, they were the last guests present. A bit embarrassed he alerted Mac to the fact.
"I think we better leave, too."

When they had left the car, he walked her to the door. Mac turned to him.
"I think we both have a lot to think of. I, well, I know I need some time. Rain check on running, tomorrow?" She looked pleadingly and a bit insecure up at him.
Harm nodded. He would have preferred otherwise, but was happy to humour her.
"Okay," he answered.
On impulse Mac reached out and pulled him in a hug, which Harm eagerly returned. When they had stepped back, he gave her a warm smile.
"See you on Monday, then."
"See you on Monday."

Sunday
Early morning
Harm was awake early. He looked forward to his weekly run with Mac. One of the few moments there were no prying eyes from Mic. But when he looked for his running cloths, he remembered the previous day's agreement and that there would be no run together today. His face fell. But then he also remembered their dinner and the long talk they had had. They had come a lot closer and he was very happy with that. Besides, she had been right; they both had a lot of thinking to do. Like how he wanted to proceed with his relationship with Renée. If he wanted to go on with it, that is.
For a moment he looked back at his warm bed, but realising he wasn't going to sleep anymore, he reached for his cloths. That Mac wouldn't be there, didn't mean he himself couldn't go for a run.

When he reached their normal starting point to his surprise, there was another car standing there already and a slim figure going through the stretching motions. Mac!
He parked, emerged and walked over to her.
"What are you doing here?"
A bit taken aback she looked at him.
"I was awake early and thought not running together didn't mean I couldn't go for a run. To clear my head."
Harm laughed out loud.
"Great spirits think alike."
Then he became serious again.
"So you go this way and I'll go that way?"
Mac shrugged.
"You know, now we're both are here, we can just as well run together. Just run, okay?"
"Okay," Harm agreed, happy she didn't dismiss him.

So they ran, the only sounds their footsteps and breaths. They hadn't discussed what path to take but it didn't matter. Somehow they just made the same turns, choosing right or left without consulting each other. Mac marvelled in the fact they were still so much in sync. It once more strengthened her determination to get things right between them.
When they had reached the cars again, she asked "Any plans for today?"
He nodded and Mac bit her lower lip. She shouldn't have asked. Maybe he had plans, with Renée. In the meantime Harm had started to speak.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I thought I would like to be early with my Christmas shopping this year and I planned to visit a curiosa market just south of Washington this afternoon, to see whether I can find something nice for mum and Frank."
Mac felt a pang. Before it wouldn't have been a question whether they would go together, but now … But she had assumed to early, for Harm went on.
"I would love you to go with me, but we decided to use today to think. And I don't want you to do something behind Mic's back …"
A wave of relief flooded Mac.
"I love to go with you," she reassured him. "But Renée?"
"She isn't in town. And she doesn't like curiosa markets," Harm told her. "She will be fine with us going together."
"Okay," Mac smiled. "What's the plan?"
"What about going back home, shower, I have some chores to do and then I'll pick you up at ten? It's about an hour drive, just out of Woodbridge."
"Fine with me." Mac unlocked her car door. "See you at ten, then."
Harm nodded and walked to his own car. He looked forward to spend the day with her.

The curiosa market was held in a large barn and the entrance fee included a voucher for a cup of coffee or tea.
"Anything you looking for in particular?" Mac asked.
"As I said, Christmas presents for Mum and Frank and maybe, when I see something that appeals to me. Too bad we don't know our Secret Santa subject yet," Harm answered. "And you?"
"Nothing special. As you said, when I see something that appeals to me."
"Why don't we start here on the right and then zigzag the aisles?" Harm suggested.
"Fine with me."
They started their tour, once in a while picking up items or drawing the other's attention to a special knickknack.
Suddenly Harm spotted a table with semi-antique jewellery and walked over to have a look. A set of earrings in bright colours caught his eye and he carefully picked them up.
"What can you tell me about these?" he asked.
"These earrings are art deco, about 1920," the saleslady told him.
"And this green stone?" Harm's next question was, touching the conical ornaments.
"They are made of silver. These red and blue squares are enamel," the lady pointed. "These are little diamantes and the green stone and cone are malachite. It's for the lady?" She looked at Mac.
"No, for my mother," Harm told her.
"Good, for I think the lady should wear a bit more subtle jewellery." She picked up another pair of earrings, almost ribbon like with little green stones surrounded by white ones.
"Silver, little emeralds and diamanté," she pointed.
"They're really beautiful," Mac sighed. She took one and held it in front of her ear, looking in the little mirror on the table.
"But better not. With the last reparation to my car and the expensive season coming up …"
"How much for these?" Harm asked, coming back to his first choice.
"Eighty-five," the lady retorted. "But do you mind to wait till my husband is back? He's taking a leak. He holds the purse."
"Fine with me," Harm laughed. He chatted on, while Mac wandered further to the next stall, filled with old toys. As soon as she was out of earshot, he asked "How much for those?" pointing at the ones Mac had loved.
"Those are a hundred-twenty, I'm afraid."
Harm thought for a moment. For just an among friends present it surely was over the top. Who could say what direction their relationship would take? For all he knew, she was still with Mic and maybe she would turn up with his ring on her left hand one day. But still …
"Okay," he said, throwing a quick look at Mac. She shouldn't notice him buying them. Luckily a grey-haired, bulky man showed up, taking his spot next to his wife.
"You want to pay, sir?"
"Yes please," Harm nodded. "For these two pairs of earrings." He reached into his inner pocket and retrieved his check book. Quickly he wrote out a check, while the saleslady wrapped both pairs in tissue and put them in a little bag. She attached a little note to one of them, saying 'mum'.
"So they won't get mixed up," she explained. Harm gave her a grateful smile. He just put the bags into his inner pocket when Mac appeared at his side again.
"You're ready?"
"Yes," Harm answered, patting his chest to indicate his purchase was safely tucked away. He said goodbye to the sellers and they walked on.
"Why don't we go for a cup of coffee now?" Mac suggested. She could use a beverage and Harm was happy to go with her wish. They headed for the little café at the end of the barn and it wasn't before long they sat at a small table, sipping coffee and munching a sandwich.
"Can I ask you a question?" Harm suddenly asked.
"Of course," Mac replied surprised.
"Do you know something about that kid Ron?"
For a moment Mac looked baffled. She had expected a more personal question. Harm saw her confusion and laughed.
"He came to look at us yesterday and he intrigues me," he explained. "And no, we agreed on taking some time to think, so I'm not going to ask you any personal questions today."
Mac blew out a breath. She should have known a promise was sacred to him.
"I don't much about him," she said. "Single kid, single mum. I don't know because of divorce, passing away or whether there ever was a dad in the picture."
"There was a dad," Harm stated. "He told me his dad was going to teach him carpentry and then he went silent."
"I guess you have to ask Lena then," Mac suggested. "She knows all the kids."
"I will do that," Harm resolved.

At around four they left the market, both happy with their finds. Mac had picked up two childhood books from a book stall and a nice candlestick to add to her collection. She loved to burn candles, especially with Christmas. Harm carried a paperweight with a small model of a 1951 Buick Eight on it. A 1951 Buick Eight had been Frank's first car, he had explained and Franks still spoke fondly about it. He was very happy to be able to check off his parents from his Christmas' shopping list.