PART V

September 13, 2010

May is napping on our bed, sprawled out with her long arms and legs everywhere.
Her brown hair sticks to her forehead in damp little ringlets and I don't want
her to get cold. Sarah will kill me if something, no matter how small, happens
to her while she's . . . absent. I cover her with a blanket and she mumbles
something and kicks them back off. She's always been as stubborn as her mum.

I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her sleep. May never was a peaceful
sleeper, and she still breathes in fits and starts. When May was a baby, Sarah
used to spend the time she should have been sleeping watching her instead. For
hours she would stand over May's crib, waiting and watching. If her breathing
would change, Sarah would rouse her just to make sure she was okay. Most
mornings I'd find Sarah asleep in the rocking chair in May's room, exhausted
from her all night vigil. There is nothing more precious in the world to Sarah
than May. Now I'm starting to see all the reasons why.

I refuse to believe that. Sarah wouldn't have spent her life with me if that
were the case. Would she? Hell, I don't know anything anymore.

I look up at the closet, toward that box of notes I put away. There's a big gap
in the dates. May was a baby and Sarah couldn't run off with him. I'd like to
believe she was happy and she didn't need him, but I'm not so sure. Maybe she
felt too guilty to leave her baby behind. Or else she was worried May would stop
breathing in the middle of the night and I wouldn't be attentive enough to
notice. Maybe I was just never attentive enough about anything. She limited her
time away on investigations for a while and I remember it created a few
problems. Eventually, she grew more confident that May was going to live through
the night and then she would go away on investigations again. Or at least that's
where I thought she was going.

The phone rings and I grab it and move out to the hallway before it can wake up
my daughter.

"Hello," I say, unsure of what or who I might hear on the other end. The waiting
is the worst part of this. All these hours of uncertainty are mind-numbing.

"Mr. Brumby?" an official sounding voice says. He tells me his name and title
but my mind filters it out. I lean my forehead against the wall and prepare
myself for whatever they have to say.

"This is Mic Brumby. Did you find her?"

"We think we found what could possibly be some sort of wreckage, but so far
we've been unable to get any men to where it is to verify that it's anything,"
the voice says. Could he be more bloody vague?

"What does all this mean?" I ask, trying not to slide down the wall.

"It means we still don't know, Mr. Brumby. With this weather and where this
possible wreckage is located, we just can't risk it right now. We'll go in as
soon as there's a break in the storms," he says. I want to make him tell me the
location so I can go search. I'm not afraid of a little rain, but I know better.
I need to be here for May. Besides, the best in search and rescue is out there
already.

"Thanks for keeping me informed," I say as I hang up the phone. The dog bounds
about my legs, pleading with me to play with him but I can't even move enough to
pet him. I bang my head against the wall and for the first time, the thought
that she just might be dead enters my world.

******************

April 30, 2004

The nursery has only three babies in it, each of them wrapped up in pink. I know
which one is Mac's even without the little name tag that tells the world that
she is 'Our First!' or that May was born on April 29 at 11:51 p.m. and weighed
in at 6 pounds, 4 ounces and was 18 inches long. She's her mother's child for
sure. Her coloring and her mannerisms -- I didn't even realize that one day old
babies could have mannerisms -- but this baby *is* Mac.

"She's beautiful!" Robbie exclaims, squeezing my hand. I continue to watch the
baby through the glass and give a weak smile to Robbie's reflection.

"Of course she is. She's mine," Mic Brumby says with a laugh from behind us. We
both turn around and Robin gives him a congratulatory hug. He's got a hospital
bracelet on identifying him as the father and allowing him access to the baby
and the nursery. He looks exhausted already.

"Congratulations, Brumby. You got lucky. She looks like her mother," I say,
offering my hand. He grips it tightly and when he releases it, he places a
chocolate cigar in the pink wrapper on my palm.

"Too right. And it's a good thing, too. Considering she's a girl and all," Mic
says, staring at her with complete adoration. She starts to fuss and I can tell
he wants to go in there to her.

Mac's announcement that she was pregnant shocked me. For that brief second after
she said it, I wasn't nearly as worried about it being mine as I was about the
mess the situation would create around us. Before I could say a word, she told
me whose it was and she sounded so sure. It took a while for me to accept that
this is what Mac wanted -- a family with Mic. If this child was mine, she would
have said something. If she wanted to raise this child with me, we would be
together. Instead, she insisted it was Mic's. She has to have a reason to be so
sure even though I don't know what that reason is. A part of me wants this child
to be mine, but then another part just isn't sure. I'm never going to be sure.

"She's so tiny, pink and perfect," Robbie says, cooing at the baby again. "Look
at her, Harm." She tugs me around again so I'm looking at a face I've seen for
years. She is beautiful. She is perfect. She's everything Mac deserves in life.

"When are you two ever going to get hitched so you can start a family of your
own?" Mic asks, clapping me on the shoulder. Robin and I just look at each other
with nervous smiles. It hasn't come up often, from what I can tell both of us
preferring to remain free. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it is everything she wants and
deserves, too.

"I, uh, I . . ."

"You're not getting any younger, Harm," Brumby says with a glint in his eyes.

"We're happy the way we are now," Robbie says, coming to my rescue. She takes my
hand in hers again, pulling me close. She and I both know that with her career
and my career, any sort of family commitment would be rough. Mic has already
decided he's taking the time off from the international maritime law firm he
works at to watch the baby. Neither Robbie nor I would ever be willing to do
that. I guess when it comes right down to it, we're too selfish when it comes to
our careers.

"Good on you, mate," Brumby says, clapping me again. I've not seen him look this
happy ever. The nurse on the other side of the glass motions for him to come in
and he smiles brightly at her. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go give my
daughter a bath. Sarah is in room 311 if you'd like to go see her. She's still
bitching and moaning about the delivery, so be prepared to hear some horror
stories. I thought that Marines were tough, but she's still complaining."

"I, um, think I'll let you go in, Harm. I have a friend who's a nurse in
cardiology and I think I'll go visit her. I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby,
okay?" Robin says, giving me a kiss before she backs away. I look at her,
puzzled. Her eyes are begging me not to make her go in with me. Things have
never been great between Mac and Robbie. They aren't bad, just not warm and
friendly. I've not told Robbie the whole truth yet, but I'm sure she's smart
enough to have figured out that we had a relationship at one point.

"Okay," I say and she pushes the button to open the automatic doors. I watch her
go.

"Tell Sarah I'll be back in the room in a few minutes, okay?" Brumby asks as he
walks toward the locked door to the nursery.

"I'll do that," I say as I watch the nurse open the door with some numbers on a
keypad and then check his bracelet to make sure he's the father. Maybe she ought
to check more than that. I shake that thought out of my mind before I go find
Mac's room.

***************

I'm staring out the window at the spring evening sky when someone knocks on the
door. At first I assume it's one of the nurses telling me it's time to feed May
again. She eats like a horse, which is fine because my breasts hurt if she goes
too long in between feedings. Then when she nurses, everything else hurts. This
is all going to take some getting used to.

"Come in," I say, pulling a pillow onto my lap so I can nurse May in the way I
found most comfortable. Although we have a lot to learn about each other, little
things seem to be clicking into place easily. It's as if we've known each other
forever. I'm sure that will all change when we get home. She's full of
surprises, including her slightly early arrival. At least it allows me to lie
about some of the doubts in my mind.

"Hey," Harm says as he shuts the door behind him. He walks over to the edge of
my bed, looming over me. I look up at him briefly before I stare at the white
blanket on my bed, counting the letters in the hospital name printed across it.
My fingers pick at some lint nervously, not knowing what he's going to say or
what I'm going to say for that matter. "She's beautiful, Mac."

"Thank you. I might be slightly biased, but I think so, too," I say, barely able
to contain my elation over my baby girl. I think about her, and I want to start
crying. She is beautiful. Perfect, actually. Everything I've ever wanted and
more. The room is filled with flowers and balloons celebrating her arrival and I
cried when I heard her first cries. I cried when they held her up, still covered
with goo, for me to see. I cried when they had her cleaned up and put her in my
arms.

"She doesn't look like her father at all," he says softly as he sits down on the
edge of my bed.

"No, she doesn't look like Mic one bit," I say, looking him in the eye. This
time, he looks away. He plays with the pink foil covered chocolate in his hand,
twisting it around and reading the label. "I see you ran into Mic."

"Yeah. Robin and I did when we were looking at . . . May. He certainly looks
like the proud papa," Harm says, still not looking at me. He tosses the cigar
onto my tray table with the food I didn't eat. They keep insisting I need to
keep my calories up to feed the baby but the food isn't that great and my
stomach has been unsettled all day.

"Robin is here? Why didn't she come in?" I ask and Harm just shrugs his
shoulders. I've always been nice to his girlfriend, even invited her to the baby
shower, but it's hard. Incredibly hard. "Do you have to go?"

"No, she went to see a friend who works here. I can stay for a while," he says,
finally looking at me. "I've missed you at work."

I took off a few weeks ago, wanting to have time to prepare for this. Or maybe I
just wanted to get away. Mic was away on business for a while and it was my last
chance to be alone for the next 18 years.

"I . . . I had things to do. Paint the nursery. Stock up on diapers. You know .
. ."

"No, I don't," he says. His hand goes over top of mine and stops me from playing
with the blanket lint. I want to shake him away, but I don't. I can't. I've
missed that touch.

"I didn't mean it that way. I meant it in generalized terms. Babies are a lot of
work and it takes two to do this," I say, still trying to rationalize all of my
decisions to myself. My breasts start to ache just thinking about her and I hope
I don't leak. I don't know how much Harm could handle. I look over to all the
gifts that have been sent. Harm and Robin sent a teddy bear dressed up like an
aviator complete with goggles and a little brown jacket along with a bouquet of
pink roses. I was tempted to fold the card like a little plane, but I didn't.

"Why the name May?" he asks, taking my hand in his. He plays with my fingers,
rubbing them with his thumb. "She was born in April. Shouldn't she be April
Brumby."

"She was due next week. Mic picked out May when we found out I was pregnant and
thought she was going to be born in May. He liked the way Mic, Mac and May
sounded. Besides that, we have some stuff monogrammed with the name May
already," I say and he opens his mouth as if he's going to ask something but
then closes it. We found out we were having a girl months ago. Because of my
age, they did an amnio and Mic wanted to know. "Why do you ask?"

"I . . . don't know," he says, smiling that sad, nervous little smile of his. If
I weren't so exhausted, I'd feel sorrier for him. For me. For all of us and this
mess we created. I just can't bring myself to do it right now. "So, Mic said you
were going to bitch about labor."

"Yeah. It was a bitch. Worse than boot camp or getting shot," I say, with a
grimace. The memory is too fresh to say I'd want to do it again anytime soon,
even if it were a possibility.

"I'm sorry," Harm says, still holding on to my hand. His eyes are so soft and
needy that I wish I could slap him. What does he want from me? The truth? The
truth is I just don't know. Maybe I just don't want to know.

"No need to be sorry. It's not your fault. Mic is the one who should be sorry,"
I say with a little laugh and Harm looks toward the door.

"You're sure . . ." he starts to say but Mic comes through the door, pushing May
in her plexiglass isolette. She's fussing and screaming and my breasts begin to
leak immediately. Harm drops my hand like a hot rock and is off the bed faster
than I thought humanly possible. I can only guess at what he was going to ask,
but it doesn't matter right at this second. He steps back as Mic hands me my
crying baby.

"She's wanting you, Luv," Mic says and May immediately begins searching for what
she wants the most. The light layer of brown hair on her head is still damp and
she smells so nice and clean. Her cheek brushes against my breast and she
instinctively opens her mouth, looking very much like a baby bird waiting for a
worm.

Harm leans up against the wall in the small room and watches me. I remember
several years ago when Harriet began to feed AJ in front of us, Harm couldn't
get out of the room fast enough. He doesn't seem to be disturbed at all this
time. He actually looks more curious than anything. As May latches on, I look at
him and he looks down at the floor for a few seconds before meeting my eyes
again. Mic sits on the edge of my bed and touches May's feet through all the
swaddling. He takes a receiving blanket and modestly covers me which makes May
fuss. She doesn't like being under the warm blankets and it takes everything in
the nurses' power to keep her swaddled like she is.

"She had a nice bath time," he says. "Didn't scream a bit until it was over and
she realized she was hungry. She's a beautiful little girl, Sarah. Everything I
ever wanted."

He moves his hand from May to my cheek and strokes it. Out of the corner of my
eye, I can see Harm move from foot to foot nervously and he crosses his arms
over his chest.

"Don't you think she's beautiful, Harm?" Mic asks and Harm nods and smiles.

"Like I said, she's lucky she looks like her mother. Of course, if she had ended
up looking like her father it wouldn't have been too bad," he says, staring
straight at me.

"No, it wouldn't. Especially if she would have gotten my looks and her mother's
brains," Mic says and Harm and I both look away. It's been so many years since
we had that conversation. So many years since we made that stupid promise. Five
years later and I have a baby with or without him. Who the hell knows.

The door opens and Robin walks in. A blush crosses her face when she sees what
I'm doing and she takes a few steps back.

"I'm sorry. . . I, uh, I can leave . . ." she says, looking at Harm for
guidance. He's still watching me.

"No, that's okay," I say, motioning for her to come in with my nearly free hand.


"My friend's shift isn't until 11 p.m. I thought I'd come back here rather than
wait in the lobby," she says, looking at me and smiling. She looks so . . .
rested. I look so tired and May hasn't even been with us for an entire day. The
longer she nurses, the worse my uterine cramps get as her suckling stimulates it
to return to normal size, unlike my breasts, which I doubt will ever be the
same. I gasp slightly as the pain moves through my lower abdomen and everybody
stares at me. Harm stands up straight and looks toward his girlfriend.

"We better get going. I'm doing the work of two JAG lawyers these days," Harm
says, smiling slowly. He takes Robin's hand in his and they swing their arms
casually, like a couple who's been together for a while. "Please . . . keep in
touch about how you're doing."

His eyes are pleading for me to say something . . . anything. But in this room
filled with our significant others and a baby, what am I supposed to say? Let's
leave these fools and run off and raise this baby together on some tropical
island? What in the hell does he expect of me?

"I'll only be gone eight weeks," I say, trying to reassure him I'm not going to
vanish forever into motherhood. I don't know why it matters. He's left before.

"Good. Let me know if you need anything," he says, staring unblinkingly at me.

"Yeah. We can babysit so the two of you can get out. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Robin asks with a laugh as she looks at Harm.

May is finishing up on this side and I'm going to have to burp her and switch.
I'm sure they don't want to be around for that or for when I have to put lanolin
on my sore nipples. I'm sure Harm doesn't even want to see that.

"We'll hold you to that offer, Detective Farnell," Mic says, giving them a great
big smile.

Underneath the privacy of the receiving blanket, I break the seal May has formed
on my breast with my finger. Covering myself for a moment, I prepare to switch
to the other breast. Before I can, Harm lets go of Robin's hand and steps to the
side of the bed. He gently pulls the blanket away from May's head and strokes
her soft hair. A wistful look passes over his face and she opens her all knowing
eyes and fusses a little before searching for my other breast. He covers her up
and looks at me. Mic just sits there and takes it all in, not saying a word.
Neither does Robin. There is something electric between Harm, the baby and me
but no one says a damn word. Someone should say something, but the time for that
has come and gone.

"Good-bye, Mac," he says, "take care of yourself."

"I'll see you," I say, holding my little girl to my breast. I watch as he and
Robin slowly walk away.

****************