AN: Not mine - and all that jazz.
Please see additional AN at the end.
Answered Prayers Part 2/3
When the door to the Burnett home was opened, Harm was struck by what he found. The tree was up and decorated, unlike his or Mac's place which were devoid of Christmas decorations. The living room was adorned with festive cheer and an assortment of cards stood upon the mantel.
"Harmon! You're here! You're finally here for Christmas, it has been so long," Trish said embracing him tightly.
"Hello, mom," he said dropping the bags in his hands to hold her. "You're looking well."
"And Sarah, beautiful, beautiful, Sarah," she enthused, moving quickly to Mac. "So glad to see my son has finally come to his senses."
Harm shook his head, last month, when he had mentioned Mac, his mother had said she'd like to see 'him'.
"Mrs Burnett," Mac said. "Thank you for..."
"It's Trish or mom...none of this Mrs Burnett rubbish," Trish said, leading her into the house. "Now, darling, make yourself at home and I'll get you some lunch."
"We're not ready for lunch..." Harm started but Trish had already disappeared.
Turning to Mac, Harm looked at her. "That's not what I was expecting," he said quietly. "If I had to describe her I'd have to say 'hyper' more than anything else."
"And you'd be right, son," Frank said, coming down the stairs before embracing the newcomers. "One of the side effects of her new medication is she can be a little over the top, especially when she's already excited."
"When I spoke to you last month, I thought I'd be coming here to talk about investigating care facilities. Mom definitely doesn't seem to need one, so what's going on?" he asked but Trish burst back through the door before Frank could answer.
"Come, come," Trish said grabbing Mac's arm. "Time to eat."
"Harm, perhaps if Sarah could spend time with your mom this afternoon, we can have a chat and I'll update you," he said. Harm nodded; any further conversation impossible as his mother reappeared and all but dragged him to the dining table.
Lunch was a whirlwind affair with Trish loading their plates with a range of food, talking rapidly and asking questions without waiting for a full response. When she had gotten up from the table to prepare the coffee, Harm leant over to Mac.
"I know it's asking a lot but do you think you could take mom for a walk along the beach after lunch so I can talk to Frank," he whispered and Mac nodded.
"None of this whispering," Trish admonished. "Haven't I taught you better?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said sitting back in his chair. "Sorry."
It took a lot of persuading to get Trish to go for a walk with Mac while the men said they would clean up. First she said they should all go, and then she argued she should do the dishes. Then she tried to get Harm to go with Mac, telling him it would be romantic. Finally, Harm pulled his mom aside.
"Look, mom," he said quietly. "I appreciate what you're trying to do but, while Mac's out, I want to finalise her Christmas present. She could go by herself but..."
"I'll go with her..." Trish interrupted. "We can talk about you!" And with that Mac was all but pushed out the door and they were gone.
As Frank washed the dishes and Harm dried, he started to speak.
"When I told you we'd need to discuss care facilities, I honestly thought that's what we needed to do," he said, his eyes focused on the sink. "But then when you called your mom and told her you were coming for Christmas things changed."
"What changed?" Harm asked picking up another plate.
"Well, for one, she was excited by the news...she hasn't been excited by anything in months," he reported. "I thought it was a good thing but that she'd forget about it in the following days but she didn't. She started making plans...writing lists...You saw her yourself in March, she really wasn't engaging in anything, so this was a big change."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harm asked, glancing at his stepfather.
"I didn't know whether it meant anything and really didn't think her interest would last," Frank said honestly. "And I didn't want to give you false hope. Then three weeks ago I was talking to Bill Rodgers, do you remember him?" Harm nodded; Bill had been a business partner of Frank's for years. "I was telling him about the change in Trish and he told me his son's father-in-law had been misdiagnosed with dementia a couple of years ago and that it turned out to be depression. He got me the name of the psychiatrist who identified the depression and I contacted him."
Harm stood still, his full attention on Frank.
"I told him about your mom, he contacted her doctor. A couple of long appointments, tests and a medication regime and your mother is a different person," Frank said as he leant back against the cupboard and looked at Harm.
"So, she was just depressed? Really? Depression can be misdiagnosed as dementia? Doesn't seem feasible," Harm said, trying to take this news in.
"Apparently one in three people diagnosed with dementia is actually misdiagnosed,**" he reported. "Yeah, surprised me too," he added when he saw Harm's face. "An MRI showed that your mom had a few mini-strokes, most likely at the start of the year, which would have impacted on her health and sense of wellbeing, the depression most likely started there and when we started talking about her decline and the doctor labelled it dementia, she deteriorated further, which is understandable."
"Oh god," he said before embracing Frank. "That's the best news I've heard in a long time."
"Me too, son, me too," he said as he patted Harm's back. "Once the psychiatrist said it was depression, she was so relieved she cried for the next three hours."
Harm's own eyes teared up at the thought of what his mom had been through and then he thought of the toll it would have taken on Frank.
"Thank you for being there for her, Frank," he said, hugging him once more.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he said, kissing Harm's head when he realised Harm was crying. "Now, while this is all good news," he added. "Trish is still under the care of the psychiatrist. As you can tell, while she's not withdrawn, forgetful or disengaged, there are still a few challenges." Harm nodded as he wiped his face. "But, I'll tell you, I'd rather her like this than she was."
"Me too, Frank, me too!"
They fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their kitchen chores and, just as Frank declared it a wrap, he spied the women walking back towards the house.
"Son, you might want to go up and wash your face and take a breather before you see your mom," he suggested pointing out the window.
Harm agreed and quickly disappeared up to the guest room.
Coming in the back door, Trish was still talking a million miles an hour and Frank had to wonder if Mac had managed to get a word in at all. Deciding to give her a break, he spoke.
"Sarah, you must be exhausted after your trip today and late night last night," he said, patting her arm. "And as we plan on going to midnight service, why don't you follow Harm's lead and take a nap?"
Having needed the bathroom since lunch and ushered out the door on her walk before she had a chance to use it, Mac had summoned up her marine training to ignore the growing pressure, made worse by the pounding of the waves on the beach. Racing up the stairs as best she could, Mac entered the guest room and headed straight for the bathroom, finding Harm leaning over the sink splashing water in his face; it didn't help matters in the least.
"Harm, I want to talk about it all, I really do," she said wanting to reach out and hug him but knowing a return hug could result in a puddle. "But if I don't use the bathroom I'm going to burst."
Harm laughed and stood up. "I thought marines were made of sterner stuff."
"We are," she said, moving past him. "And as soon as I'm done here I'll prove it to you."
"I think..." he began before Mac turned back to him.
"You can either leave or watch me," she said as she unbuttoned her jeans. "Either way I'm using this toilet now."
Never having been in a bathroom when a woman was using the facilities or having one there when he was, Harm wasn't going to start now and quickly conceded. "I'm going. I'm going," he said throwing his hands up but he couldn't resist turning the faucet on full blast as he walked by the basin.
"Bastard!" Mac muttered, fearing she was about to wet herself for the first time since she was about three.
Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, Mac found Harm lying on the bed, his arms behind his head, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his face.
"That was really mean," she said, kicking off her shoes and climbing in beside him.
"I know," he agreed rolling towards her. "I just couldn't help myself."
"I'm just glad to see you happy," she said reaching forward and kissing him. "So, good news about your mom?"
"Better than expected news about mom and then you crawled into bed with me," he said caressing her face. "No need for Santa tonight, I have everything I wished for!"
Mac kissed him once more before settling alongside him and listening to Harm's recount of the conversation with Frank.
"Well, I'd say we got our Christmas miracle, wouldn't you?" she asked him after he'd been quiet for a few minutes. When she looked up she realised he'd fallen asleep and she smiled; he hadn't slept properly in a long time.
Mac hadn't intended to fall asleep and then, when she realised it was inevitable, hadn't planned on sleeping too long. However, it was nearly four hours later when she awoke to the sound of the door opening.
"Hey, Frank," she said quietly, Harm still asleep in her arms.
"Hey, Sarah," he replied. "Just wanted to let you know that dinner is in an hour and, if you don't make an appearance soon, Trish will be up to drag you down there."
"Thanks for the heads up," she said, "We'll be down shortly."
Once Frank had departed, Mac wriggled down in the bed and the friction of their bodies and an unawareness of where he was had Harm's mind and body going down a different track to Mac's.
"No, no," she muttered as his hand disappeared under her top, his thumb caressing her nipple.
"Yes, he mumbled as his lips found hers and kissed her deeply. "Maaac," he moaned when she pulled back.
"Harm," she said, trying her hardest to resist his advances. "Got to get up."
"Getting there," he murmured. "Just give me a minute..." he added, thrusting against her.
"No, Harm, we've got to get ready," she insisted tilting her head as he kissed a trail along her throat.
"Ready for you anytime," he replied as sucked on her pulse point.
"Harm! Your mom..." Mac began.
"Mom?" he queried before his eyes opened, "La Jolla. We're in La Jolla, aren't we?" he asked when his thoughts crystallised.
"That's right," she replied. "And we're expected downstairs."
"Damn!" he muttered rolling off her. "Just when things were getting interesting."
"Well, if you're a really good boy, then, after services, maybe Santa Claus won't be the only one coming tonight," she whispered.
Harm grinned; this was by far his favourite Christmas ever and the day itself hadn't even arrived.
It was a little before midnight before the family entered St Joseph's Church. With seating at a premium, they stood at the back, Mac standing in front of Harm, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Love you," he whispered before kissing her head.
"Love you too," she replied craning her neck to kiss him back.
Then the choir began with 'Oh Come All Ye Faithful' and time for chatter was replaced with worship.
Although Harm was focused on the service and on Mac, he was also aware of his mother. Surprised she was quiet and sedate; he had to wonder what was really going on with her. This version of her was what he would consider 'normal' and it was vastly different from the hyper woman he had been watching all evening.
"She seems like her old self," Mac whispered as Harm's chin rested on her shoulder.
"Thinking the same thing," he replied scanning his mother.
"That's good, isn't it?" she asked when she sensed his hesitance.
"Yeah, but..." his voice trailed as his mother turned and shushed him, she was definitely like her old self.
On the trip back to the house, Trish sat with Mac in the back seat and Mac expected a barrage of questions but there was only one; "What would you like to eat when we get home, dear?"
Shaking her head, Mac replied, "Oh, I'm still full from dinner. I don't think I could..."
"Nonsense," Trish interjected. "I'll make you supper."
Upon their return, Mac helped Trish in the kitchen to allow Harm to catch up with his stepfather.
"Mom's acting more like herself," he commented as Frank turned the Christmas tree lights on.
"I know," he agreed. "There are times like this when it makes me wonder if I'm imagining all the other behaviours."
"Well, you're not because I see them too," he replied with a sigh.
"This is a new thing...happens mainly at night...I'm thinking it's related to the medication or the lack of medication in her system at this time of the day," Frank said, one eye on the doorway in case they were disturbed.
"If she's like this without medication then why is she medicated at all?" Harm questioned, watching the same doorway.
"Because it is the medication that is bringing her out of that deep depression," he said. "And for that I'll be eternally grateful. Her specialist said it would take a while to find the right doses before things would stabilise," he reported rubbing his hand over his face.
Harm was going to say something else but catching the look on Frank's face he changed his mind.
"I promise I'm going to be a better son," he said before moving to stand in front of his stepfather. "A better son to mom and to you." He then hugged him tightly.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Mac was dancing around the same topic. Having only met Trish on a couple of occasions previously, she wasn't too sure what she could and couldn't say. Trish took the lead.
"I'm sure you're thinking you're getting a mother-in-law who's insane," she said, placing the sandwich points on a platter. "But I'm not."
"I know you're not," Mac agreed. "You've just had a really difficult year."
"I have," Trish said with a nod. "I hadn't been feeling myself and was feeling quite low...I'm nearing 70, and a few of my friends or their spouses passed away. I was starting to think my life was over and things declined from there." She stopped to arrange another group of sandwiches. "I wasn't interested in much, forgot a few things, stopped going out, stopped seeing people...Then my doctor said 'dementia' and I was devastated...I just felt empty. I guess after that I gave up...my life was over...and rather than make the most of the time I had left I withdrew."
"I can understand that," Mac said, taking her hand. "It's self preservation."
"Exactly," Trish agreed. "I could hear Frank telling me everything would be alright but I didn't believe him. I love him dearly, he really is a wonderful man, but all I could think of was Harm and how poor a mother I had been."
"What would make you think that?" she asked, tears pooling in her chocolate eyes.
"I couldn't protect him from the hurt of his childhood, couldn't calm his anger as a teen. I never seemed to be enough for him. I never saw him married, never saw grandchildren...never saw him often enough...for all intents and purposes we were just two people who once knew each other," Trish said as tears of pain rolled down her cheeks.
"Oh, Trish," she said embracing her. "Harm loves you so very much. He feels bad about not being a better son but you both have to realise the loss of his father, your husband, was something beyond either of your control."
Trish nodded as she held Mac tightly.
"But you still both have one another," she continued. "And you shouldn't waste this opportunity."
"You are a beautiful person, Sarah," Trish said stepping back and patting Mac's face. "It's no wonder my son adores you. One thing though..."
"What's that?" Mac asked with some trepidation.
"Before, when I mentioned about me being your mother-in-law, you didn't correct me," she commented. "Is there something I don't know?"
"No," Mac said with a smile. "Harm and I have not discussed marriage yet...but, from my perspective, there is no one else for me...there's no one else I want."
"Good," she said, rubbing Mac's back.
"Trish, can I ask something?" she questioned before she lost her nerve. When Trish nodded she proceeded. "Tonight you seem like yourself...definitely not as 'active' as you were earlier...if anything you are a little more subdued...sedate."
"And you're wondering why?" Trish asked and Mac nodded. "It's the medication. When it is waning in my system I feel like me and the first time it happened I didn't want to take it again...I thought I was all cured. So, I skipped the next two doses and could really feel myself disconnecting from the world. It was a very surreal feeling. It's only early days yet and I have a long road back. I'm sure there will be many highs and lows but I can't begin to tell you the difference not having the 'dementia' diagnosis over my head makes. I may still be diagnosed with it later on but, for now, it's a reprieve and I am just so thankful."
Mac hugged her once more and it was while they were embracing Harm entered the kitchen.
"Everything alright?" he asked, slipping an arm around each woman.
"Everything's fine, Harmon," Trish said kissing his cheek.
"Sure is, Harmon," Mac agreed, kissing him too.
-.-answered prayers -.-
AN: **The 1 in 3 statistic jumped out at me when I was reading an article recently and it lead me to thinking about those I know with dementia or the early signs of it. One person in particular stood out as being like Trish. All the 'signs' were there and the family were beginning to think of facilities for her. She had been widowed five years ago, had a daughter who lived interstate, a son who was unmarried and lived across town and didn't feel he could care for her. Anyway, long story short, by chance she came across a stray dog who seemed to adopt her and things turned around. She was looking after him, cooking special food for him (when she hadn't been cooking / feeding herself), was taking him for short walks etc. Back to the doctor, referral to a psychologist for grief counselling, anti-depressants and twelve months later, she is a new woman with a busy life and her health restored. Alas, this isn't the way it is for many people and the decline into dementia is terrible for the person, and heartwrenching for the family. But, as it's Christmas, I went with the story which gives hope and second chances.