Resurrection 2013 - the return of Loren Singer

by fictionalmike

AU: what if Loren Singer miraculously survived her unscheduled swim in the Potomac that early January night in 2003? What if she survived, but was comatose for a long time? Who would take the trouble to care and watch over her as the years rolled by? How would she wake and come to terms with meeting her 10-year-old daughter for the first time? Could she ever get home? COMPLETED

2. Carolyn

Original A/N added 19-01-2018: Reading an early PM from one guest reader, I realised that I may not have been clear enough in stating "AU" at the start of the synopsis. They are not mine; I am merely taking them out of the DPB box, playing with them and putting them away again.

So, once more for you asleep at the back of the class: this is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. I simply wanted a more-positive outcome for one story-line in the "JAG" canon. After all, isn't that what fanfiction is all about? Mike

Characters are borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.

To the early reviewers of Chapter 1 - thank you!

Jpstar57: thank you, as the first reviewer, for your kind words. As to your request regarding the Harm and Mac characters: yes of course, it would be my intention to treat any and all borrowed characters from the old "JAG Universe" with love and respect in this AU - they had their own sets of problems and adventures in canon. I shall leave them standing at the end!

aquartist: I would encourage you to pluck up the courage and to watch "Ice Queen" (the discovery) and "Meltdown" (the resolution). These two episodes (S08Ep20 and S08Ep21) in the JAG timeline (and their importance in bringing us today's "NCIS") makes them crucial parts of canon (and mark the point at which I am diverging into this alternative universe). As to Sergei - well, I believe that he helped to "humanise" the Singer character (she DID smile a lot when she was in his company) but... we shall see how this story evolves.

Hawk: thanks - your kind comments helped to make my labours worthwhile and inspired me to continue beyond what was originally a intended as just a one-shot vignette.

222-222-222-222

Saturday, 25th May 2013

Room 1013, Long Term Care Facility

McLean, Virginia

09:25hrs EST

Loren had woken up naturally at 08:00hrs (for some reason, she had slipped straight back into the Navy 24-hour clock) then dozed until she decided that "today is the first day of your new life, so get shiftin', sister". Looking around, she activated the call button which lay on her pillow. A nurse arrived quickly, plumped her pillow and picked up a clipboard from the end of the bed.

"Good morning; I am Tracy, part of your long-term care team and I am so pleased to finally make your acquaintance. Well, this is the first full day of our Project Lazarus - how are you feeling today? We forgot one thing (of many, I am sure) when you woke up yesterday, namely a question about how you would like to be addressed. Should we be calling you Loren, Miss Singer, Lt Singer or patient 20030129A?" Whilst Loren formulated an answer, Tracy read her pulse, checked her blood pressure and noted the volume in the urine collection bag beneath the bed.

Loren had a split-second flash of the 1960s British TV series called "The Prisoner" and replied, with a smile "I am not a number, I am a free woman!" The confusion on the 25-year-old nurse's face led Loren to explain the reference and confirm that she wished to be addressed by her Christian name, by which time her throat was drying up. The nurse passed her a small glass of water and, admonishing her to "sip small and slow, you need to get your swallow reflex moving again after 10 years", supported her head. She was also aware of the fresh scar on her throat where the tracheotomy tube had nestled for a decade.

The water was cool and bubble-free. Loren was beginning to appreciate the depths to which her fitness and bodily functions had deteriorated (or atrophied - she wondered which phrase was more positive or hopeful) and sipped slowly as instructed. The sipping experiment met with mixed success: three projectile coughs and a damp hospital gown later, she was managing to get all sips of water heading in a stomach-wards direction - which she regarded as "Achievement Two of 999" on her long road to recovery.

Tracy placed the water on the bedside unit, pulled up a chair and then started a quick update on the schedule for the day ahead.

"Loren, you woke up and came back to the Land of the Living at the start of the Memorial Day weekend, so the Navy support team from Bethesda won't be with you until Tuesday. Dr Andersen will be dropping in around 11:00 (he drops his wife and daughters over at Pimmit Hills to swim whilst he does his Saturday rounds) but he has left you this one-page briefing. He also said that, if your eyes get tired and especially if you feel anything like a headache starting, close your eyes, lie back and he will carry on the explanation when he arrives. He also asked me to tell you: 'Remember, you have the rest of your life ahead of you' and to impress upon you the need for baby steps in these first few weeks".

"Weeks?" thought Loren, then realised that an early task would be to set (and re-set) everyone's expectations of how long, how far, how hard and how well her rehabilitation project would run. To her mind, recovery (from that hellish river) lay behind her; she had been re-born and now her rehabilitation lay ahead. Loren Singer was nothing if not determined. She had been given a fresh start in her life and she intended to grasp the opportunity with both hands.

Loren hit the first problem after less than one minute - her right arm started to ache and her fingers lost their grip on the paper, which she was moving in and out of range as her eyes tried to focus on the printed words. Hovering over her like some helpful hawk, Tracy took the page, clipped the paper onto a reading stand, which she swung into Loren's field of view and turned on the overhead light, so that Loren could read comfortably. It read:

Ref: Patient 20030129A Singer, Loren M (DoB 07-25-1971, Cincinatti OH)

Dear Loren, Miss Singer, Lt Singer (we need to arrange, soon, how you wish to be known during phase two of your time with us!):

Today, we shall start the first baby steps on your rehabilitation.

Our goal is simple: to eventually see you walk out, unaided, under your own steam to pick up the rest of your life.

There will be many stumbles and trips along the way, but we are here for the long road.

We have supported you and cared for you these past ten years and we stand ready to support you for ten more.

The US Navy is funding your care, because your experience benefits others (just as you are benefitting from the experiences of previous coma patients).

I look forward to making your acquaintance formally, getting to know you and to working with you in the months ahead.

Sincerely

Karl M Andersen, MD, USN (Retired), Head of post-coma care and rehabilitation.

Loren laid her head back on the pillow. "Wow, that lays it out, doesn't it?" She looked at Tracy. "How many successes have you had here?"

"Well, anyone who wakes up within a month is usually guaranteed a good recovery - but there are ranges of 'good' of course. Anyone with a TBI (traumatic Brain Injury) is usually impaired in some way. You don't fit that category Loren, because you were x-rayed and MRI'd up the Kazoo every six months since '03, with no signs of damage apart from the dislocated shoulder and broken wrist (which obviously stemmed from your failure to swim!) as the obvious injuries." She smiled. "Your long-term care plan has, since Christmas '03 when you had been settled with us for a while, been to 'wait until she wakes up then push her hard for as normal an outcome as she can achieve', so as you can guess we are rarin' to get under way - but slowly, of course". Tracy smiled and squeezed Loren's hands encouragingly.

Loren thought to herself: "OK, so I am a guinea-pig. Well, I guess I had to find myself, some day, in a situation where I do something for others".

She smiled at Tracy as her tumbling thought processes over-ran her ability to speak and get the words out so that the nurse would understand her. "I cannot believe that it is 2013; how the heck did I sleep for over ten years? No, hold that thought - we'll answer that later! OK, on to basics; why don't I feel hungry?"

"Ah, that is down to the feeding tube which was implanted into your stomach as part of your arrival. Would you like to see?"

Loren nodded - this was the moment when her life started to get serious again; she remembered the military code of essentials for survival: "food, shelter, water".

Tracy rolled down the bedding to the foot of the bed. The cool air of the room struck Loren's body and she shivered - then realised that she could not only see the tips of her toes (without a baby bump) but that she could wiggle them. "Thanks heavens - no paralysis" she thought to herself.

Tracy lifted Loren's hospital gown sideways to show a tube disappearing into a neat incision to the side of her body, above the line of the belly-button. "By the way, the girls loved your tattoo - it helped us to get an impression of your personality and spirit, so it spoke to us whilst you were not able to communicate". Loren blushed - the tattoo had been her gift to herself at the end of her commissioning, to remind her that, despite the need to conform to the "norms" of naval and military standards, she could still retain her individuality. The placement of the tattoo had been carefully discussed with the artist, to ensure that she wouldn't violate any regulations during her planned lifetime in a naval uniform.

"We operated on you again, for long-term care, after you had given birth to Lorna - you were fitted with standard items to help drain your body. Your kidneys are still in remarkable shape and the flow is adequate - Dr Andersen will explain how we aim to get you disconnected in due time and how we mobilise patients over a period of time as part of the rehabilitation"

"OK, I understand - I am not going to be dancing out of here any time soon am I?"

Tracy shook her head thoughtfully: "Err, no, you won't be. Although I will let Dr Andersen talk you through the important steps, I want to make it clear that we have very high hopes for you. Since I started here in early 2010, we have lost three long-term coma patients at eight, ten and eleven years without them ever regaining consciousness, so you are our bright and shining star, Loren. But Rome wasn't built in a day and you have to be realistic about timescales".

Loren squeezed Tracy's hand affectionately. "Well, I have the rest of my life. My last thought in the river was a "I wonder how my baby girl would have turned out" and I have now seen the lovely ten-year-old. So, I can only believe that good things are in store for me".

Tracy consulted the clip-board. "Right, step three in your rehab - teeth. You had lovely teeth when you arrived - the front of your face was undamaged from your swim - so we've taken good care of you over the years including regular dental checkups. Now, I noticed that you said your hands and arms got tired quickly; would you like to try brushing your teeth unaided? I can of course join in *if* you need help. But our motto will be 'try at first, build slowly, ask for help' as we get you mobilised. You will add to our body of knowledge and you are benefitting from the experience of those who have gone before." She squeezed toothpaste onto a brush, handed the toothbrush to Loren and then stood by with a kidney bowl and paper towel under Loren's chin.

Loren was pleasantly surprised at how well she accomplished "task three". the minty flavour of the toothpaste flooded her senses and she inhaled deeply - triggering a coughing reflex! Tracy grabbed a fistful of tissues and stood by, ready to assist: Loren looked up at her and nodded gratefully as she got her coughing back under control, then Tracy returned the kidney bowl to its position with the up-beat and encouraging comment: "Well, that confirms your lungs are working!".

Just as Loren caught her breath and got ready to "rinse and spit", the door of the room opened and, once more, the sound of tapping heels approached, accompanied by the slightly softer sound of a scampering ten-year-old in a direct course towards her mom's bed.

Loren quickly wiped her face and smiled at the visitors. She looked enviously at Carolyn's long, unmarked neck (she had already realised that she would carry a scar from the tracheotomy tube, although that was a small price to pay for being able to breathe during her Long Sleep). She admired the trim jeans (tucked into the obligatory long black boots), the smart red sweater and the white blouse collar peeking out from the neck of the sweater. Quite obviously, Carolyn Imes was clearly a woman who chose her wardrobe with care and dressed herself with pride. "So why isn't she still in the Navy?", pondered Loren. The question was swiftly discarded as Lorna arrived at the bedside, well-dressed in a lightweight winter coat. Mother and daughter exchanged hand-clasps.

"First full day, Mommy!" squeaked Lorna. "Auntie Carolyn has told me I need to be patient, but I wanted to bring you the pictures that I painted on your birthdays, so you can have them on your wall". A series of pages were handed over from a portfolio: in the time-span from age five until age ten, Lorna's artistic skills had clearly developed from the five-year-old "stick-(wo)man" with "mommy" crayoned above, to a remarkably-sophisticated line drawing of a colonial house, with portico, and a passable impression of Loren's face (probably copied from her old Navy identification badge). Clearly, Lorna had artistic capabilities and Carolyn had encouraged her.

Loren laid her head back on her pillow, took a sip of water then asked Tracy to tilt her bed up further; the mechanism moved her up into a sitting position. She spread the pictures on the bedcover, then looked at each one, discussing the relative merits of the "painting" styles with her daughter. Carolyn and Tracy looked on admiringly.

Around 11:00hrs, the door opened once more to admit Dr Andersen. He checked the medical readings clipboard, nodded approvingly and seated himself in the chair closest to Loren's pillow; Carolyn and Lorna pulled up two chairs from the far end of the room and Tracy stood behind them.

"So, Loren; we have you awake, drinking, cleaning your teeth and with a good cough reflex - a good morning's work I feel". He smiled, then his face became serious and he looked deep into Loren's eyes. "Now we start the hard work. We shall be working with you through a process which has been developed by - and improved with experience gained from every case - the rehabilitation of long-term coma patients from around the world. Sadly we have had a few here in the USA, since 2001 and the increased tempo of military operations".

Loren nodded: "Yes, I haven't seen a newspaper or TV, so I am ten years out of date, but my swim was only 16 months after the Twin Towers fell, so I would guess that we are still chasing bad guys around the world and losing good people".

At this Carolyn gasped, pulled a tissue from her purse and ran out of the room. Before the door closed, Loren thought she heard the sound of weeping.

Lorna excused herself, slid down from her chair and headed out of the door with an obvious intention to follow Carolyn to wherever the older woman had run.

Loren looked enquiringly at Dr Andersen. He took a deep breath and explained: "I recall from the notes that your colleagues gave us when we were planning your long-term care and the eventual Awakening, that you had a reputation for speaking your mind. Carolyn puts up a great shield of invincibility (she is a children's rights lawyer and advocate after all) but apart from being your daughter's legal guardian she has experienced a couple of setbacks in her life. She lost someone close - she always refers to him, on the very rare occasions that she opens up, as 'my Marine' but I believe it happened some years back and I am sure, Loren, that she will tell you at some point".

Loren nodded her understanding: the past could always throw up complications when you least expected them.

Dr Andersen continued the briefing, admonishing Loren to "tell me the moment this causes your brain to hurt". Loren smiled, and retorted with the witty repartee: "Come on doc, the brain has rested for a decade; along with the body, it is going to need some pretty stiff exercising over the coming months".

Andersen nodded: "I am glad that you are already talking in months. That shows me that you understand the long hard road ahead, leading to rehabilitation and a full recovery. With most patients, we have a timeline (a project plan if you will) to show the activities and the steps along the road - but we don't put dates on it at the beginning. We know, from our body of knowledge, the tasks and the steps and the pitfalls and the relapses which are common, but with a motivated patient like you, along with us as motivated professionals, we all desire to get you over the threshold - that is, the threshold of this facility - and back out into life".

"Wow, I bet you tell all the girls that!" Loren was encouraged by Andersen's approach; she was beginning to believe that the long nightmare might actually lead to a happy ending. He smiled in acknowledgement and continued.

"OK; a couple of things; some recovered patients have unexpectedly suffered strokes in the first year post-awakening, so we shall be scanning you every three months for the first year, then at six-monthly intervals after that. So expect us to be scanning, measuring and probing every part of you on an ongoing basis".

"OK doc, let me know if you find a brain!"

"You know, Loren, this could be the start of a wonderful friendship - and I will be proud to add you to the body of knowledge" replied Andersen. His briefing continued, listing likely activities, challenges and pitfalls, treatment plans, what he would want Loren to accomplish and how she must lean on the team around her if she every felt close to falling, failing or keeling over. "This is not a race, it is a journey where you may decide to explore an occasional view of country roads when you hop off the highway for a while before you come back to the main drag" he explained.

"The next step - if you'll pardon the pun - is to start getting you mobilised - that is, walking. I want you self-powered (even if on crutches) so that you can get to the bathroom. The commode is a starting point, but only a stepping stone. We also find that it helps our patients' self-esteem once they recover full continence".

"Yeah doc, I can agree with that. I feel as weak as a newborn kitten" observed Loren. Andersen smiled: "NASA want to come and poke and prod you as well; you have slept for the equivalent of five round trips to Mars, so the Astronaut Corps may learn some lessons ahead of the deep-space missions in the 2020s. The physical therapy team have been manipulating your limbs and stimulating your muscles electrically, to try to maintain muscle tone, so this may have a bearing on long-endurance space missions. You will be in demand, young Loren, for some time to come".

"Young? Oh lord, I hadn't thought of that - am I classed as middle-aged now?" wondered Loren. She realised that she hadn't yet looked in a mirror since early 2003 when she had checked her appearance before heading to Benzingers to meet up with Harmon Rabb for more aggravating inquiries regarding the parentage of her foetus.

Andersen smiled and stroked his (greying) beard: "not until you hit at least 50 in my book - remember Loren, in some ways you are only 32, not 42".

"Flatterer! I like you!" replied Loren, smiling, just as the door opened. Lorna led the way, with Carolyn following on behind. Andersen excused himself with a cheery "See you tomorrow for Sunday prayers" then he headed out, pleading the excuse that he needed to check in on other patients and the need to hook up with his wife and daughters after their swim.

Lorna grasped Loren's hand and sat in the closest chair, whilst Carolyn settled into the second chair and crossed her legs, settling back against the chair. She slumped slightly - in stark contrast to the upright "former military person" posture which Loren had noticed briefly the day before. The careful re-application of mascara and face powder had almost - but not quite - distracted attention from the red-rimmed eyes which had obviously shed tears.

Loren raised a reassuring smile: "Carolyn, I had no idea when I spoke, but Dr Andersen gave me a *very* brief one-line explanation. Could you please forgive me for my insensitivity; I would never wish to cause you pain".

Carolyn smiled. "Thank you Loren, you just hit me unawares; it's been nearly ten years since I lost my Marine - Lorna knows the story". Loren raised an eyebrow, prompting Carolyn to start her story.

"Pete was the guy who spotted you on that rock in the Potomac; it was almost dark but for some reason your cover caught his eye. He got to you, called for help, hung onto you to keep you out of the river and - most importantly - provided the witness statement which eventually nailed Lindsey after Harmon Rabb had been arrested for attempted murder".

Loren looked concerned: "Look, Rabb was a bit obsessive - and frankly an annoying pain in the ass - because he thought Sergei was the father, but he wasn't at the bridge that evening." She smiled to herself; "Sergei was keen and enthusiastic, but way too young to become my lover".

"Yes, we gathered that - and Pete's witness statement on the comparative heights between you and your attacker cleared Harm (by more than six inches). But because Pete was so focussed on your recovery (he stayed with you in hospital for two days straight, once the ER had finished with you) it wasn't until the third day that he gave his statement. By that time, DC Police had handed the case to NCIS and Agent Gibbs had interviewed then arrested Harm."

Carolyn smiled, long-forgotten memories stirring: "Harm did his customary 'high and mighty' impression of a clam (we guess because he thought that Sergei was involved somehow), was charged and had the inestimable pleasure of being allocated the wonderful Cdr Faith Coleman as his defence attorney (because the Admiral had to bring in someone from the west coast who wasn't connected to JAG HQ)."

Carolyn's nose wrinkled as she recalled the freckled navy JAG Commander with what everyone had referred to as "the OCD briefcase from hell".

She continued: "Anyway, it worked out well for several reasons. Faith Coleman faced off against Major Jack McBurney when they came to defend and prosecute Lindsey; after the case, the two of them got together and Major Jack thawed out the West Coast Ice Queen. So, 'little Miss OCD' is now 'Captain Faith McBurney' and she runs the San Diego RLSO where she pioneered the crèche/daycare facilities for the two little McBurney offspring. It is reported that she is now a fully-fledged member of the human race; she no longer sits with her knees together and all body joints at 90 degrees!"

"Carolyn, you paint an interesting picture of this Faith Coleman! Obviously I never met her or Major McBurney because I was already in the twilight zone (as someone around here has so charmingly called it). So, getting back to your Pete?"

"Oh yes. I was peripherally involved with your rescue, but when it became clear that you weren't going to wake up for a while, a team of us were allocated to put together a care package for you and your unborn baby. Bethesda were heavily involved - which is why they will be here mob-handed on Tuesday - and a couple of civilian obstetricians (and subsequently paediatricians) donated their time for the benefit of "Project Singer". Pete turned up at JAG one day with your cover after the Lindsey court-martial - he'd stuck it in his coat as a reflex whilst he was holding you up on the rock and hollering for help. We went for a coffee, stayed in touch and then, when Lorna was delivered, we all went out to celebrate and, well, one thing led to another. Pete and I finally got serious after Lorna's christening at the end of July of '03". Carolyn blushed and looked slightly sheepish as she related the tale.

"Something good happened, obviously?" Loren wasn't going the "lead the witness" but her curiosity antennae were flapping at full speed!

Carolyn continued. "Pete was fully-engaged in preparing his MEU ready for deployment, which meant that we were able to spend time together. A couple of weeks later he deployed. Five weeks after that I started getting queasy (I threw up one morning in Owen Sebring's waste-paper basket in court - very professional, I can tell you - but Owen was so sweet and understanding when I blamed food poisoning and of course his wife at that time was very sick, so he was the best possible judge for me to barf in front of!) so then I took a pregnancy test. Our happy accident was confirmed but I wanted to wait to get through week 13 before we started telling anybody."

Loren smiled: "Yes, I know the feeling; unfortunately I was already embarked on the carrier when I suddenly started to feel pukey and believe me, there is nowhere worse than an aircraft carrier at sea to discover that your contraception arrangements were less than 100% effective" Loren chuckled: "It nearly torpedoed my career".

"Yes, I remember the rumour and scuttlebutt at the time. Anyway, Tracy Manetti and I were putting together the guardianship package for little Lorna with Virginia and DC social services, so I was knee-deep in all things child related". Carolyn paused. "And then my status as an attorney was questioned".

"What? How? Why? When?" Loren quickly ran out of inquisitive words.

"Although I met the JAG qualifications to try courts-martial at the time I had joined up, the rules had changed subsequently and I fell into a grey area, because I hadn't passed the Michigan Bar (I missed by one point but joined the Navy JAG Corps and served without problem for twelve years). Anyway, Chegwidden took the hard option; I was prosecuted, tried, found guilty but that was when my luck changed - for both good and bad".

Carolyn paused, took a deep breath and carried on.

"After I was found guilty, Judge Morris gave me a wonderful speech from the bench. Of course, my Navy JAG career was toast, but he didn't impose a criminal sentence which would have been a really bad outcome. No-one had twigged that I was pregnant - I hadn't started to show, and even at that stage I got away with a more-generous skirt and keeping my jacket buttoned. So it was that I walked out from JAG unemployed, defrocked as a naval officer and 14 weeks pregnant - oh, and unmarried as well. That very night, a Colonel of Marines and a Chaplain walked up to my door. An IED had exploded and Pete hadn't stood a chance. But, bless him, he *had* updated his will and named me as his sole beneficiary, so my finances improved with his GI death benefit. A week later I was standing alongside a hole in the ground in Arlington (do you know how cold it gets in late October there?) dressed in black and being handed a folded flag".

"God, Carolyn, how awful. So, you were by this time 15 weeks pregnant, I guess?"

Carolyn sighed: "Yes, at that point I was..." She shook herself and carried on, half-forgotten memories and images flooding her mind. "I must have caught a chill, because I remember talking with Pete's Mom after the service, getting into my car and driving home, taking my coat off and hanging it up, reaching down and unzipping my boots, turning up the heat in my apartment and then - zip! Next thing I know, Tracy Manetti is desperately trying to wake me up, I'm lying in a pool of blood on the floor of my apartment and the EMTs are coming through the door".

Loren guessed what was coming next: "Miscarriage?"

"Yep, the worst sort. So that took away the only piece of Pete that I had left".

Loren reached out a hand from her hospital bed and grasped Carolyn's hand: "something tells me that you're not the sort of girl to curl up and shy away from the world?"

"Heck no; Pete would not have wanted a whimpering female hiding away from the world, and my parents didn't waste money feeding a kid who would give up! I reckoned that things could not get any worse, so once I was cleaned up I used my aunt Carolyn's legacy (she was the fully-qualified lawyer on the Michigan Bar, but as Carolyn Rosemary Imes as opposed to me as Carolyn Rebecca), went back to law school and, this time, qualified with a score at the mid-point between 'perfect 100%' and 'fail'. I threw myself into working with Tracy on updating Lorna's care package (you had been out of it for nearly two years by this point), got the courts to award me guardianship of Lorna thanks to some really supportive letters of recommendation from my old JAG family, and became a childrens' advocate once I qualified. And that's where I am today: Carolyn R Imes, the well-known lawyer and advocate in Tysons Corner."

As she had been speaking, Carolyn had been absent-mindedly turning the simple gold band on her ring finger, prompting a question from Loren.

"So Carolyn, with all that behind you by - what - the end of '04, did you ever marry? I'm looking at that ring..."

Oh no, I am still nominally a spinster! When Pete's mom passed away in '06, she bequeathed everything to me - Pete was an only child and she described me as "the closest thing to a daughter-in-law we ever had from Pete" and specifically asked me to use her wedding ring when I married. But that wasn't in my life plan once I had loved and lost Pete. So I snuck up to Arlington, scattered her ashes on Pete's grave when no-one was looking, stood there in front of the headstone and put the ring on."

She held her left hand up. "It's been here, on my finger, since then. I also wear some item of black when I am out of the house, as a mark of my respect for my Marine and to honour his memory".

"But surely, you are a fit, lively, beautiful and healthy woman in her prime. Any man who is attracted to you would be attracted, move in close, see the ring, and bale out?" Loren's recently-revived brain was struggling; why would a healthy woman close herself off from the possibility of a new relationship and pleasures?

"Loren, I had already had the best; those five months with Pete were the happiest days of my life - ever, without doubt or the hint of a question".

Carolyn looked down once more at the ring on her finger, then looked up at Loren and smiled conspiratorially: "Besides, once Pete had me, I was effectively 'spoiled' for any other man. Pete was military perfection on legs - I would never be that lucky twice in my life, so I made my decision and I elected to live the life of the celibate single mom. Of course, by this time I had Lorna to care for, so I spent the money on building the house up on Old Dominion Drive, established a real home for Lorna and myself (keeping her safe and ready for the day you woke up) and then I went to work at my new lawyering business - which has worked out very well".

Loren relaxed back onto her pillow and took Carolyn's hand, caressing the wedding ring. "Well, thank you for caring for Lorna; I guess that some people, unaware of your history, assume from conversations around 'dead marine, wedding ring and young child' that you are a military widow - which is a good cover for your heartbreak I guess". Carolyn smiled sadly and nodded.

Loren could not believe how much of a change Carolyn had made in her life since the Carolyn Imes which she remembered from Christmas 2002 (and the personal happiness which Carolyn had obviously given up in order to protect, love, nurture and guide Lorna in the first decade of her life).

"So, are you on the PTA circuit, baking cookies, watching Little League and whatever Lorna does? Oh Lord, I have missed so much" lamented Loren.

"Yes, we have a very active social life, based around Lorna, her schools and her activities. She is a fit and healthy ten-year-old and is thriving as a young horse-woman and swimmer. I just have to make sure that she wears plenty of sun-block; there is a slight ginger tint in her hair (which is why people just assume that she is mine, thereby minimising awkward questions) but she also has a couple of freckles on her face. Loren, might I please ask if there is any ginger hair in your family's gene pool?"

Loren thought for a moment, then drew Lorna into a hug before she replied to Carolyn's question. "Err, not amongst Clan Singer for at least five generations, but I know where her colouring may have come from. Lorna, would you mind, please, walking to get the nurse so I can start my lunchtime medication?"

"Sure, mommy". Lorna obediently hopped down from her chair, headed to the door and slipped out into the corridor.

Carolyn waited until the door had closed behind Lorna and then leaned in conspiratorially, eager for the answer. "You don't want her to know?"

"No, at least not until I am fully recovered and back on my feet; I need to think through some things that I am not exactly proud of"; Loren paused, mentally assessing some options before she continued. "Aw what the heck, it's about time that someone knew".

She looked at Carolyn: "It's never good to dredge up matters from a decade back, but I need to share. May I please I give you a metaphorical one-dollar and retain you as my attorney if you please, Carolyn?"

"Sure thing. My pleasure. Consider it done".

"OK, and this goes no further, under attorney-client privilege, for as long as I am still breathing and still above ground - OK?"

Carolyn nodded: "Of course. Madam Client".

Loren chuckled then her face became very serious. "Oh boy, I really got myself into that mess in late summer '02" sighed Loren.

"OK, Sergei was cute in that youthful Russian way (like a borzoi puppy dog) but we never did the deed; you know that Cdr Rabb was always fixated in his little lady Marine when he wasn't saving the distressed women of the world, so he was only ever a potential uncle in the equation and only if Sergei had been the father. But boy, could he obsess!"

Loren smiled, thinking back over the years. "Lindsey was clumsy and not very athletic or imaginative, especially on a full stomach. But Lorna's colouring (together with what I am sure will emerge in due time as a 'Fighting Irish' temperament) are definitely from Declan".

Carolyn sat back in her chair, mouth agape. The corner had finally been lifted on a ten-year mystery. What would Rabb have thought?