Once, when she was younger, an alcoholic and foolishly in love with a man who really was no good, she hiked in to the backcountry of Sedona with too little water and not enough sense. She walked across rocks and dry soil until she stood at the edge of the canyon. Spread out below her feet, the canyon was a sharp contrast of reds and greens beneath a deep blue sky. She could see Castle and Pyramid Rocks in the distance. The horizon was hemmed in by a towering wall of red rocks, banded by a thin layer of white and green limestone. She stood on a ledge, buffeted by the high desert wind, and watched the scenery until her husband tackled her from behind and brought her down, laughing as she narrowly avoided the edge of the rock.
There were days when she missed the sharp dry heat of
the high desert. The early shade of the canyon floors. She missed the
rocks and the sand, the strong yellow light that sunglasses couldn't quite
filter out. She missed the wind and the dust devils. The jumbled mess
of stars in the night sky. She missed the way the desert wouldn't let
her forget, wouldn't let her slide from day to
day, the way it reminded her each day that she was alive.
Since she left Arizona, when she needed to calm down, when she needed to quell the nerves that threatened to overwhelm her, she pictured herself standing on top of that red rock under a cloudless sky. Sometimes, even when she was happy, she would picture that place and herself in it. She bolstered the canyon walls with the good memories, drawing them out when she needed support.
As she huddled in a chair next to Harriet's desk, she tried to remember the calm that she felt at the edge of the canyon. She tried to remember the silence. But she was acutely aware that she was sitting in the middle of the JAG bullpen in a sweater and jeans waiting for Harm to get out of court. Harriet's chatter was soothing, easing the tingles caused by the stares of her former co-workers. She knew they didn't mean to make her feel like a fish in a glass tank, but she couldn't help wish that they could find something else, anything else, to do.
"You know what I don't get?" Harriet asked. She tapped her fingers against the keyboard and scanned the bullpen. When she caught a stray stare, she glared at the starer until he or she turned away. Until Commander Rabb got out of court, she had appointed herself to take care of the Colonel...Mac...Sarah.
"Quantum physics?" Mac hazarded a guess.
"You know what else I don't get?" Harriet smiled, relieve to hear the Colonel...Mac...Sarah make a joke.
"What to call me?"
"That makes three things." Harriet cupped her chin in her hand and studied the other woman. "What do I call you since you brought it up?"
"My name is Sarah," Mac suggested. "Of course, Mac is a little closer to Ma'am." She curled her fingers into her palms and forced her hands to relax against her thighs. "I feel underdressed," she confessed in a low voice.
"What if I just call you A.J.'s godmother? It's a beautiful sweater." Harriet nodded at the soft red sweater.
"Harm called while I was out shopping," Mac said. "I didn't have time to change because he has to be back in court this afternoon." She exhaled softly. "Thank you. And what don't you get?"
"Men and long hair."
Mac wrinkled her nose slightly and asked, "Men with long hair or their fascination with women who have long hair?"
Harriet paused and thought for a moment. "Both actually. But I was referring to their fascination with it. I had to make a hairdresser's appointment and Bud wanted to know why I didn't let my hair grow out. Never mind the fact that even if I were to let it grow, it would still have to be shaped and trimmed. But with two kids and a job, maybe I don't have time to do my hair every morning."
"Did you breathe at all during that?" Mac marveled. Her nerves were abandoned as she tried to sort through Harriet's thoughts.
"No." Harriet heaved a sigh. "I don't think so."
"I don't know what to tell you," she said. "Mostly because I don't know what you said," she teased.
Harriet waved her hand. "It wasn't important. I was just blowing off steam." She glanced up and smiled at the bullpen doors. "Here comes Harm."
"Goody." Mac sighed. "He's going to make me eat vegetables." She pushed herself out of the chair and smiled down out Harriet. "It was good talking to you, Harriet."
"Same here, A.J.'s godmother." Harriet smiled back. "I'm glad you're -" She broke off and flushed, unsure how to phrase her thoughts. "Okay," she finished lamely.
"Thank you," Mac replied softly. She glanced in the direction of Harm's office, forcing herself not to look at her old office. But she saw it anyway; the room was dark and she absurdly glad that whoever was now occupying it wasn't in it at the moment.
She knocked lightly on the doorjamb to Harm's office. "You harangued?" She smiled to take the sting out of it.
"I called you, if that's what you mean." He looked up from a stack of messages and raised an eyebrow.
"You say potato." She shrugged.
He dropped the stack on his desk and grabbed his cover. "Do you have time for lunch?"
"That's why you called, right?" She gestured to the door. "Feed me."
"Actually, I called because," he started, then sat down behind his desk and motioned to the chairs in front of it, "I have to go out to the Seahawk tomorrow."
"Oh." She sat down heavily. "Okay."
"I have to go home after work to pack."
She frowned and picked at a spot on the edge of his desk. "Why did you call me then?"
"I wanted to tell you in person," he explained. He smiled sheepishly. "I was worried about you when I couldn't reach you at your apartment."
"I'm not made of glass," she huffed. "I was out shopping. You see me everyday. You call every lunch hour and every night when you get back to your apartment." She ticked off the list on her fingers, smiling so he would know his concern didn't bother her.
"I know." He shrugged. "I still worry. I'll call as often as I can while I'm gone."
Her frown reappeared and deepened. She tucked her feet under her chair. "Okay," she said again. She paused and built red canyon walls in her mind. "No. Wait. Maybe I'll go away."
He sat upright. "Go where?"
"Just a vacation," she placated. "I was thinking of going to Sedona. I miss it," she explained on a sigh.
The corners of his mouth pulled into a straight line. "If you wait, I'll ask for leave and go with you."
She stretched across the plateau of his desk and touched his arm. "You just got your job back," she reminded him. "What are the chances the Admiral is going to give you the time off?"
"Slim to none," he admitted grudgingly. "Mac, I don't like this."
Oak Creek ribboned through the sand, washing away tiny grains of the canyon floor, deepening the chasm. She concentrated on the way the water washed over the rocks, the way the fish slid downstream in its current. "I think I need to go."
"Are you coming back?" he asked warily. His hand closed over hers, tugging slightly, pulling her closer to the front of his desk.
"Of course," she answered immediately. "How long will you be gone?"
He shrugged. "The JAG on board had a family emergency. I'm just filling in."
"I'll be back before you then," she said. "Besides, I have a job interview next week."
"Really?" He tightened his grip on her hand, loosening it slightly when she grimaced under its pressure.
"A family law firm. It's mostly matrimonial work, but one of their attorneys worked on VAWA. And they want to expand their adoption department to handle foreign adoptions." She turned her hand over and curled her fingers against his palm. "You buy me lunch to celebrate the interview, I'll buy dinner when I get the job."
"Deal." He stood up and walked over to her. Crooking his arm, he held his elbow out to her. As she slipped her hand around it, he frowned. "Where's your jacket?"
"In the car," she sighed. At this time of year, the trees in the canyon would be a deep golden color. She sighed again and patted his arm. Rising onto her toes, she placed a light kiss on his cheek.
"What was that for?" His eyes were wide.
"Because you care," she explained.
"I always did, you know."
"Yeah," she said softly, patting his arm and
smiling a little. "I do now." In Arizona, it was still mid-morning
and the canyon walls glowed in the strong light.