DISCLAIMER: The M*A*S*H characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, and a bunch of others no doubt. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2012 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.

IÕll Be Seeing You

by Djinn

 

 

ÒSo, thatÕs him, huh?Ó  Bruce was pacing the hotel room, making Margaret annoyed before heÕd even opened his mouth. 

 

ÒHave no idea what youÕre talking about.Ó  She poured herself several fingers of scotch and thought about pretty little Sally, HawkeyeÕs wife.

 

His wife.  Sweet.  Innocent.  Clearly adored him.  Margaret realized Bruce had said something else.  ÒWhat?Ó

 

ÒI asked you if youÕve had sex with him.Ó

 

She decided not to tell her husband the truth: sheÕd had sex with a lot of men, not just the one teenage first love sheÕd told him about.  Bruce was old fashioned.  Most of the men she met were old fashioned.

 

But Hawkeye had been different.  Hawkeye hadnÕt been just sex.

 

Hawkeye had been the one. 

 

Until he married Ramona, another innocent girl whoÕd left him once she figured out Hawkeye couldnÕt be faithful to her.  Oh, he hadnÕt cheated on her with women.  It was the long, slow caress of gin that he liked.  Vodka would do, though, or scotch.  Anything that had alcohol as a main ingredient and intoxication as the main result.

 

Margaret had cheated on Bruce with the same lovers.  Something else she and Pierce shared.

 

She hadnÕt been surprised when Hawkeye had married Sally.  But something in her had died when heÕd once again chosen someone else.  And Bruce had come along and heÕd been handsome—or at least handsome enough.

 

And strong and commanding.

 

Or at least a loudmouthed bully.  It was easy to get the two mixed up when you were drunk and looking for a way out of being lonely.

 

Bruce stomped over, looming as he liked to do.  He had never hit her even though heÕd threatened to just about every fight.  SheÕd never pushed him far enough for him to actually do it. 

 

ÒI asked you a question, Margaret.Ó

 

ÒWhat was it?  I wasnÕt listening.Ó

 

ÒDo you love him?Ó

 

ÒPierce?Ó

 

He loomed even more.  Clearly angry.  Fists clenched.  ÒYes, Goddamn it.  Pierce.Ó

 

She smiled up at him, giving him an expression that she knew was horrible in its cruel humor.  ÒWith all my heart.Ó

 

BruceÕs fist crashed into her face.  She dropped her Scotch, pushed him away, and stood.  She let fly with her own hit, a much better punch, and he went down to his knees.

 

She leaned in, her fingers gripping his hair, pulling his head back.  ÒHit me again and I will kill you.Ó

 

She could tell by his expression that he believed her.

 

She picked up the glass, which had not broken—nice carpet in this hotel Radar had picked for their reunion—and walked over to the dresser to fix herself a fresh drink.  Staring in the mirror, she assessed the red mark on her face, could imagine the bruise sheÕd sport for the rest of the reunion.  Nice.  Classy.

 

ÒIÕm leaving.Ó  Bruce said.  He sounded sorry.  He sounded angry.  He sounded sad.

 

ÒIÕm weeping.Ó  She didnÕt turn, didnÕt even look at him in the mirror.

 

This had been coming for two years, ever since theyÕd said ÒI doÓ in front of a justice of the piece in Milwaukee.  All theyÕd needed to finally kick them over the cliff was one man.

 

Hawkeye Pierce.

 

##

 

ÒWhat the hell happened here?Ó  Hawkeye gently eased MargaretÕs chin up, looking at the shiner on her cheek. 

 

ÒYou should see the other guy.Ó

 

ÒI did see the other guy.  If IÕm not mistaken, youÕre married to the other guy.Ó  The other guy, sporting a much more severe bruise around his eye, had been walking out of the hotel, suitcase in hand, when Hawkeye had gone down for breakfast.

 

ÒNot for much longer.Ó  She jerked away from his hand.   ÒIÕm going to have to find alternate transportation home.Ó  She grinned, a twisted expression.  ÒHell, IÕm going to have to find an alternate home.Ó 

 

ÒYeah, I saw Bruce was leaving.Ó 

 

Mad as hell and glaring at Hawkeye like he was the enemy.  ÒYouÕre the reason, you know,Ó Bruce had said to him as heÕd passed.  ÒYou two deserve each other.Ó  And then heÕd stopped and turned.  ÒI feel sorry for Sally.  She deserves better.  So the hell do I.Ó  HeÕd turned and stomped out.

 

Sally had been in the tiny gift shop.  SheÕd come out and taken his arm.  ÒWhat did he mean by that?Ó

 

Hawkeye had hoped she hadnÕt heard.  HeÕd shrugged.  ÒMargaret sure can pick them.  I should tell you about her boyfriend back at camp.  We called him Ferret Face.Ó

 

Sally had frowned.  ÒThatÕs not very nice.Ó  SheÕd let go of his arm and walked into the coffee shop without him. 

 

Margaret turned away, and Hawkeye murmured, ÒHe said I was the reason.Ó

 

ÒWhen arenÕt you the reason?Ó  She walked off, ignoring Sally as she came in from the pool, looking young and tan and impossibly unspoiled.

 

ÒWhat happened to her face?Ó

 

ÒDunno 

 

Sally studied him.  ÒYouÕre lying.  You do that a lot, donÕt you?Ó  She sighed and moved toward the elevators. 

 

He watched her, thought about following her up to the room, pulling her into his arms and making love to her.  The elevator doors opened, but he didnÕt hurry over, just let her go, a strange look on her face as she watched him until the doors closed again. 

 

Then he hurried off after Margaret.

 

##

 

Margaret sat on a bench by the lake the hotel was situated on, watching children play.  They screamed and laughed as they jumped into the water.

 

She heard Hawkeye coming down the path.  Knew his steps by heart, even muffled by the rubber on his shoes.  He sat down next to her.

 

ÒSally seems nice.Ó  She turned to look at him. 

 

He didnÕt turn, just stared out at the water.  ÒShe is nice.Ó

 

ÒGreat, then.  Perfect.Ó  She folded her arms over her chest, a defensive move, she knew.  As if she could keep this man from getting to her. 

 

ÒI donÕt love her.Ó

 

ÒProbably shouldnÕt have married her, then.Ó  She saw his jaw tighten.  ÒAs I recall, you said you didnÕt love Ramona either.Ó

 

His mouth got even tighter.

 

ÒYou marry women you donÕt love, Hawkeye.  Why is that?Ó

 

ÒI could ask you the same thing.  It was clear you didnÕt love Bruce.Ó

 

ÒI was drunk when I met him.  He looked good.  And I was off my game—IÕd just heard youÕd gotten hitched to the little cheerleader.Ó

 

ÒRamona was the cheerleader.  Sally was drill team.Ó

 

ÒSame difference.Ó  The popular girls.  The girls above reproach.  Margaret had never been part of that clique.  No matter how many times she started over when her parents moved.

 

ÒWhy did Bruce hit you?Ó

 

ÒMaybe because I hit him first.Ó

 

ÒNot your style anymore.Ó

 

ÒHe asked me if I love you.  He didnÕt like the answer.Ó

 

Hawkeye sighed.  ÒWhat are you going to tell the others?Ó

 

ÒIÕve been trying to figure that out.  ThereÕs the ever popular ÔI ran into a doorÕ excuse.Ó  She got up, suddenly unable to stay seated, to stay seated next to him.

 

He got up, too, and moved to her side.  ÒWe hear that a lot.  As doctors.  We donÕt generally believe it.Ó

 

ÒWhy not the truth, then?  Our marriage has been rocky.  We had too much to drink at dinner last night and had our last big blow out.Ó  She turned, could tell he was surprised.  ÒWhy hide it?  IÕm tired of lying.Ó

 

He was staring at her helplessly.  The way he used to in Korea.  The way she could not resist. 

 

ÒStop it, Hawkeye.  Just stop it.  You chose her.  You always choose her or someone like her.  You donÕt get to look at me like that.Ó  Resisting the urge to punch him because heÕd been right: it wasnÕt her style, not anymore anyway, she turned and walked away from him.

 

He didnÕt try to follow her.

 

##

 

ÒNot sure I like that shiner on MargaretÕs face,Ó Potter said as he and Hawkeye stood at the bar, watching the others talk.

 

ÒPretty sure she isnÕt thrilled with it, either.Ó  Hawkeye kept his expression as even as he could.  ÒHer husband is a piece of work.Ó

 

ÒYeah, so she told me.  Our Margaret usually gives as good as she gets.  Wonder what he looked like after the fight?Ó

 

Hawkeye grinned.  ÒPretty much like youÕd expect.Ó   At PotterÕs questioning look, he said, ÒSally and I saw him leaving this morning.Ó

 

ÒAh.Ó  Potter infused a world of meaning into that short sound.

 

Hawkeye decided to ignore it.

 

ÒSallyÕs a keeper,Ó Potter said softly.

 

ÒShe sure is.Ó

 

ÒYou going to?Ó

 

ÒThatÕs the plan.Ó  Like marriage had kept him and Ramona together.  Like it had kept Margaret and Bruce together.  Or Margaret and Donald.  Hawkeye looked over to where Margaret was sitting with B.J. and Peg.  She looked beautiful, despite the bruise, despite everything.

 

She always looked beautiful to him. 

 

Sally sat across from them.  She glowed.  So fresh and vibrant.  She sipped her martini and looked as if she was paying attention to the conversation, but she was staring at Margaret as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

 

ÒOh, son.  Why couldnÕt you just go the easy road this time?Ó

 

Hawkeye turned to look at Potter.  ÒThe easy road?Ó 

 

ÒHoulihan Avenue.Ó  Potter gave him a gentle smile.  ÒYouÕre both so damned stubborn.  And every time I see you, itÕs more and more clear...Ó  He shook his head, shrugged.  ÒListen to me.  An old man going on.  IÕm going to rejoin the party and let you get back to your wife.Ó

 

Hawkeye watched him sit down next to Mildred.  Lovely woman.  Saucy and spicy and full of love for her husband.

 

The easy road for Potter, no doubt.

 

But when had Margaret ever been the easy road for Hawkeye?

 

##

 

Margaret floated in the pool, enjoying the night air, the moonlight, and the way the breeze played across her skin.

 

ÒThe poolÕs closed.Ó  Sally stood at the side of the pool, dressed in the pretty sundress sheÕd worn to dinner. 

 

ÒYep, it is.Ó

 

ÒYou donÕt care about rules, do you?Ó

 

Margaret thought about that.  There had been a time when she did.  Unless she needed to break one to get what she wanted.  But maybe that was the essence of not caring about rules? Only following them when they served your purpose?

 

ÒItÕs not that hard a question.Ó

 

Margaret studied her.  ÒYes, it is.Ó

 

Sally kicked off her sandals and sat down, dangling her legs in the water.  ÒYou and my husband have a history.Ó

 

ÒHe tell you that?Ó

 

ÒNo.  But he says your name in his sleep sometimes.Ó

 

ÒDoesnÕt mean anything.  ItÕs just a Korea thing.Ó

 

ÒThatÕs what he said, when I asked him about it the first time I heard him do it.Ó  She smiled, but it was a harder smile than Margaret expected.  ÒIÕm not some stupid girl, you know.Ó

 

ÒNever said you were.Ó

 

ÒYou look at me like I am.Ó

 

ÒI look at everybody that way.Ó  Margaret suddenly, desperately wished for a drink.  She paddled to the wall and leaned against it.

 

ÒHe looks at me that way, too, sometimes.Ó  Sally closed her eyes, seemed to be enjoying the breeze.  ÒYour husband must have been really mad at you to hit you that way.Ó

 

Margaret decided sheÕd had enough and kicked off from the wall, swimming toward the steps at the end of the pool.

 

ÒI saw him leaving.  He said it was HawkeyeÕs fault.Ó

 

Margaret didnÕt stop swimming.

 

ÒMy husband doesnÕt love you, Margaret.  Even if he does call your name out at night.  YouÕre just some woman he knew in Korea.Ó

 

Margaret stepped out, glad that sheÕd taken care of her body, glad that she had a better rear end than the beautiful girl who was saying things that might be true. 

 

She toweled off and then turned to look at Sally.  ÒHeÕs your husband, not mine.  DonÕt make whatever is wrong between you two my problem.Ó  She saw her words hit home.

 

Sally looked down.  ÒYouÕre not very nice.Ó

 

ÒI never said I was.Ó  She gathered up her room key and walked off, leaving Sally alone.

 

##

 

Hawkeye stood at MargaretÕs door and debated whether he was going to knock.

 

ÒDoor doesnÕt open itself, Pierce.Ó  Margaret pushed past him, a towel wrapped around her shoulders, the rest of her nicely outlined in a swimsuit.  ÒYour wife is out by the pool.Ó

 

ÒOh, perfect.Ó

 

She turned to look at him.  ÒYouÕre standing at my door and you say that?  What do you want?Ó

 

What did he want?

 

She rolled her eyes, unlocked her door, and walked in.

 

He caught it before it shut and locked him out.

 

ÒWow.  Look at you.  Making a snap decision.  Oh wait, thatÕs not out of character for you.Ó

 

ÒFor you, either.Ó

 

She went to the dresser, held up a bottle.  ÒYou want some?Ó

 

ÒNo.Ó

 

ÒYes, you do.  YouÕre just afraid sheÕll smell it on your breath.Ó  Her smile was as angry as heÕd ever seen it.  ÒWhat the hell do you want, Pierce

 

ÒYou.Ó  It was out before he could stop himself.

 

She just laughed and turned to the bottle, busying herself with pouring a drink and downing it quickly before pouring another.  ÒWe both know thatÕs not true,Ó she said, not turning to look at him.

 

He walked over, eased the towel off her shoulders, pulled her close, her back to his chest, his arm across her collarbone.  The way heÕd comforted her in Korea.

 

ÒIf you think IÕm upset over this, youÕre reading the wrong script.Ó  She ducked out of his grip, went to the window and said, ÒYour pretty little wife is still there.  Why donÕt you go join her?  I can tell you, they donÕt police the pool even if it is closed.Ó  She turned to look at him.  ÒGo skinnydipping.  Make mad passionate love to her.  IÕll watch from up here.  ItÕll be good for me.  That shot of reality that I probably need.Ó

 

He could feel frustration fill him, could tell it was turning into the self-righteous anger that heÕd used so often in Korea to let off steam.  ÒI donÕt know why I came to your room.Ó

 

ÒI donÕt know either. YouÕre married to someone else.  YouÕre always married to someone else.Ó  She cocked her head, as if he was some kind of strange creature.  ÒExcept in Korea.  And even then, you didnÕt want me.  Not for long, anyway.Ó

 

ÒMaybe youÕre the one with the wrong script.Ó  He turned to go and was nearly beaned by her hairbrush.  It hit the door with a smack and he turned to look at her.  ÒVery mature, Margaret.Ó

 

She held up her glass.  ÒNo, Pierce, immature would have been throwing this at you and then having to deal with broken glass all over my floor.  I took that extra minute to think, to pick something that while it made a statement, wouldnÕt end up hurting me in the end.Ó

 

ÒI never meant to hurt you.Ó

 

ÒI never said you did hurt me.Ó

 

ÒYes, you damn well did.  The words are there; I know you too well not to hear them.Ó

 

She looked like she might throw her drink at him this time but then turned away.  ÒGo back to your wife and leave me alone.Ó  She went into the bathroom, and he heard the door lock.

 

He stood for a moment and then he went back to his room.  Sally gave him a searching look when she came in later, but he smiled and asked her where sheÕd been, and she seemed to relax.

 

Once sheÕd kissed him.  Once thereÕd been no booze on his breath.

 

Margaret had not been wrong about that.

 

##

 

Margaret saw Colonel Potter coming toward her, smiled at him as he took the seat opposite.  ÒSeems like old times at the mess, huh?Ó  She raised her coffee cup to him.  ÒOnly the Joe is better.Ó

 

He smiled at her, the same protective smile sheÕd learned to love in Korea.  Mildred Potter was a lucky woman.

 

ÒSo, your husband gone for good?Ó

 

Always one to cut to the chase, her Colonel Potter. 

 

ÒYep.Ó

 

ÒAre you happy or sad about that?Ó

 

ÒLittle bit of both?Ó

 

ÒUnderstandable.  I didnÕt really take to him.Ó

 

ÒThatÕs because you think I should be with Pierce.Ó

 

He shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin.  ÒHave since forever.  You two have something that doesnÕt come around all that often.Ó

 

ÒI know.  I think it doesnÕt come around all that often because itÕs toxic.Ó

 

He laughed.  ÒI donÕt think so.Ó  He studied her face.  ÒI donÕt like seeing that shiner on you.  Bruce ever do that before?Ó

 

ÒDo you think IÕd let him hit me and live?Ó  She shook her head.  ÒSeeing me and Pierce together sort of did him in.Ó

 

ÒYeah, I donÕt think itÕs sitting real well with Mrs. Pierce either.Ó  He shook his head.  ÒNice girl.  Real sweet.  All wrong for him.  Same as his first wife.Ó

 

ÒWell, he keeps picking them.  He must like them that way.Ó  She waved the waiter over for more coffee, and Potter ordered his breakfast.  She waited until the waiter had brought his coffee, then said, ÒAt any rate, in a few days we all go home and thatÕll be that.Ó

 

He nodded, then met her gaze with a look she couldnÕt read.  ÒA lot can happen between now and then.Ó

 

ÒNot if I donÕt let it.Ó  She frowned.  ÒAre you urging me on or warning me off?Ó

 

He leaned back, looked clearly uncomfortable.  ÒIÕm not sure.Ó  He took a deep breath.  ÒMildred would kill me if she knew we were talking about this.  ÔLeave well enough alone, Sherman,Õ is what she would say.Ó

 

ÒAnd sheÕd be right.Ó  Margaret patted his hand.  ÒHow about you let me worry about my feelings for Pierce?Ó

 

ÒThat would be the sensible thing, wouldnÕt it?Ó

 

She nodded and they drank their coffee in peace until their food came.

 

##

 

Hawkeye watched Sally move angrily around the room and couldnÕt figure what he had done to set her off.  SheÕs been like this all day, terse on the group outing, short with him at dinner.  She slammed her book into the bedside drawer and then glared at him.

 

ÒUmmm, at the risk of making you even more mad, what did I do thatÕs got you so upset?Ó

 

ÒYou really donÕt know?Ó

 

He shook his head.

 

ÒYou remember what you dreamed about last night?Ó

 

ÒI usually donÕt.Ó  Thank God.  His dreams in Korea had been doozies.

 

ÒIs that another lie?Ó  She looked ready to explode.

 

ÒNo, itÕs not.  I donÕt tend to lie to you, Sally.  You may not believe it, but itÕs true.Ó

 

ÒExcept about her.  You were lovers.  Why wonÕt you just admit it?  You donÕt call out BJÕs name in your sleep. You donÕt murmur CharlesÕ name.  Or the ColonelÕs.  Hawkeye, you donÕt even call out for any other women.  Just her.  Always just her.Ó

 

He shrugged, unsure what to tell her.  ÒIÕm not doing it on purpose.Ó

 

ÒI know that.  Jeez, how stupid do you think I am?Ó  She sat down in the desk chair, slumped as if she was defeated.  ÒDo you love her?Ó

 

ÒSally, I married you.  I love you.Ó

 

ÒThose are nice things to say but they do not answer my question.Ó

 

He sighed, ÒSheÕs not in my life and you—Ò

 

ÒNo.  Just answer it.  Yes or no.  Do you love her?Ó

 

He could feel the frustration at being pushed into a corner rising into true anger.  He pushed himself off the bed and began to pace.  ÒMaybe you should ask yourself why this is so important to you?  Maybe you should ask yourself why you canÕt just be happy?  Why are you trying to ruin what we have?Ó

 

She looked at him, her expression utterly stricken.  ÒIt was such a simple question, Hawkeye.  All you had to say was no.  Even if it was a lie.Ó  She looked down and he barely heard her say, ÒEspecially if it was a lie.Ó

 

He wasnÕt sure what to say.

 

She stood up slowly.   ÒSheÕs not even that pretty.  Rough, I think.  Hard, my mom would have called her.  SheÕs not pretty and she drinks too much.  And I imagine sheÕs great in bed, right?  Does all those things you always want me to do?Ó

 

He looked away. 

 

ÒThings I donÕt even like to do.  Not because theyÕre dirty but because somehow I always know you arenÕt thinking of me when I do them.Ó

 

ÒThatÕs not true.Ó But it was.  Not always, but some of the time.  Especially once the initial rush of being with Sally had worn off.  Once heÕd had time to miss Margaret again.

 

And he always did miss her.  No matter who he was with.

 

ÒI donÕt know what to do,Ó Sally said, sitting down on the bed, staring at the floor.  She wasnÕt crying, wasnÕt moving at all.  ÒI love you.  I married you because I love you.  But if you donÕt love me—or if you do but you love her more—than what kind of marriage is this?Ó

 

ÒA good one,Ó he said, but by the way she smiled, he could tell heÕd taken too long to answer.

 

ÒSheÕs alone in her room.  Go see her.  Get her out of your system.Ó

 

He shook his head.

 

ÒWhy not?  Might be what we need.  You realizing that IÕm what you want.Ó

 

ÒShe wonÕt have me.  Not that way.Ó  He met her eyes, saw the hurt reflected back.

 

ÒYouÕve seen her?  Alone?  In her room?Ó

 

ÒIt wasnÕt like that.Ó

 

ÒWhat it was like, Mister Experienced?  What was it like seeing your lover in her room with her husband so recently gone?  What was it like knowing you have a wife who loves you and would never, ever do anything like that to you?Ó

 

ÒYou donÕt understand.  What she and I have.  Korea...Ó

 

ÒThatÕs your answer for everything, Hawkeye.  Korea.  It made you sad.  It made you quiet.  It made you drink.  It made you...incapable of loving anyone.  Except a woman who by all appearances is as screwed up as you are.Ó

 

He wasnÕt sure what to say, so he settled for saying nothing.

 

Sally grabbed her room key and stormed out.

 

He knew exactly where she was headed.  He called Margaret and gave her a warning.

 

She didnÕt sound surprised.

 

##

 

Margaret waited by the door for the knock that would mean a conversation she didnÕt want to have.

 

It came, but twenty minutes after sheÕd gotten the call from Hawkeye.  She opened the door, realized the delay had been because Sally had been in the bar.

 

ÒLiquid courage?Ó  She let the woman in.

 

ÒYou drink.  He drinks.  I wanted to see if it helped me understand you?Ó

 

ÒDoes it?Ó

 

ÒNo.  I just feel sick.Ó  She sat on the bed.  ÒWhat is it you have, anyway?  YouÕre not that pretty.Ó

 

ÒYour approach is so winning.Ó

 

ÒOh, shut up.  My husband is in love with you.  I have the right to be mean.Ó

 

Margaret smiled tightly.   ÒI suppose you do.Ó  She poured herself a fresh drink.  ÒHeÕs married to you, Sally.  He had many opportunities to be with me when he was single and he never, ever took them.  So...get over this.  He thinks he loves me, but itÕs not real.  ItÕs just lust or the Korea connection.  I donÕt know.Ó

 

ÒYou want him.  Why are you being nice?Ó

 

ÒBecause I sort of like you.  And if you leave him, he wonÕt come to me.  Oh, he might for a night or two.  But then heÕll find another fresh, innocent girl to destroy.Ó

 

Sally nodded.  ÒHeÕs not a nice man.Ó

 

ÒNo.  HeÕs not.Ó  She sat down in the desk chair.  ÒIÕm sorry.  For what itÕs worth.  I never intended for this to happen.  ItÕs just...Ó

 

ÒChemistry.  You two have it.  Your husband could see it.  I can see it.  Hell, I bet everyone can see it.Ó

 

ÒMaybe.Ó

 

ÒNo.  Definitely.Ó  She stood up.  ÒTeach me.  What is it you do that he likes so much?  What is it you have that he wants?Ó

 

ÒSally, youÕre drunk.  IÕm going to walk you back to your room.Ó

 

ÒWhy?  So you can see him?Ó

 

Margaret looked away.  The thought had crossed her mind but mostly she didnÕt want Sally wandering around the hotel looking for men to practice things she thought Margaret did to her husband.  ÒCome on.Ó  She took SallyÕs arm and the other woman didnÕt resist. 

 

ÒI wish I could really hate you.  But I donÕt.  I think youÕre probably a nice woman.Ó

 

ÒI am.  Just...Ó

 

ÒJust not when heÕs involved?Ó

 

ÒI guess.Ó  The elevator took forever and Sally was getting heavier as the drinks sheÕd had took their toll.  By the time Margaret got her to her room, she was nearly out.

 

Hawkeye opened on the first knock.  ÒYou got her drunk?Ó

 

ÒNo, I didnÕt get her drunk.  She got herself drunk.  At the bar, not on my booze.Ó

 

He took Sally from her and settled her on the bed.  ÒThank you for bringing her back.Ó

 

ÒHey, I didnÕt want her throwing up in my bathroom.Ó

 

His eyes grew very soft.  ÒThatÕs not why you did it.Ó

 

She met his eyes, couldnÕt look away.  Finally, she said, ÒNo, itÕs not,Ó and spun on her heel and fled.

 

##

 

Hawkeye sat by the bed, watching Sally sleep.  HeÕd woken with the sun, had spent the time thinking. 

 

His wife was a beautiful woman, even after a fitful sleep.  More beautiful than Margaret. 

 

Why couldnÕt he love her the way he loved Margaret?

 

And if he loved Margaret that way, why wasnÕt he with her?

 

ÒGood morning,Ó Sally said.  She looked remarkably alert for someone who should be hung over.

 

ÒMorning.Ó

 

ÒShe brought me here.Ó

 

He nodded.

 

ÒShe loves you.Ó

 

ÒDoes she?Ó

 

Sally rolled to her side.  ÒYou know she does.Ó  Her voice was very soft, as if all the fight and anger had gone out of her.  ÒWhat are we going to do?Ó

 

ÒGo home.Ó

 

ÒJust like that?  EverythingÕs fine again?Ó

 

He nodded.  ÒIÕve been thinking.Ó

 

ÒSo I see.  Deciding for both of us.  Figuring out how to run away from her again.Ó

 

ÒThatÕs not—Ò

 

ÒDonÕt tell me what itÕs not.  I saw her last night.  I saw how much youÕve hurt her.   And she loves you anyway.  And youÕre hurting me and I love you anyway.  Why do you get to be loved when youÕre such a jerk?Ó

 

It was a good question.  He didnÕt have an answer for her.

 

She stood up.  She wasnÕt the least bit wobbly.  He frowned.

 

ÒI wasnÕt drunk last night.  I just went to the bar and had a few sips so IÕd smell like I was, and itÕs what the two of you would do, isnÕt it?  Drink before a hard thing?Ó

 

He looked down.

 

ÒIÕve been thinking, too.  Last night.  I wasnÕt really asleep, either.  Well, a little at the end.Ó  She smiled gently.  ÒI want to be loved, Hawkeye.Ó

 

ÒI do love you.Ó

 

ÒBut I donÕt want to know you love someone else.  And I do know.  So this wonÕt work.  Ever.Ó

 

ÒWe go home, Sally.  We go home and we start a family the way youÕve wanted to and we forget this ever happened.Ó

 

ÒUntil the next reunion, you mean?  Or do you intend to not come to these anymore?  You love these people, Hawkeye.  Not just her, all of them.Ó  She smiled tightly.  ÒOr did you plan to come alone?  Have your cake and eat it too?Ó

 

He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. 

 

ÒI want to be the only woman the man in my life loves.  And you canÕt ever give me that.Ó  She took a deep breath.  ÒI guess IÕm going to leave you.Ó

 

ÒYou guess?Ó

 

ÒYeah, I guess.  This isnÕt how a marriage should end.  I think Margaret had a better ending.  All passion and anger.  This is so...bloodless.Ó

 

ÒYou could hit me.Ó

 

She laughed and held her hand out to him.  ÒBut I donÕt do that.  ThatÕs why you married me, isnÕt it?  Because IÕm nothing like her?Ó

 

He gave up and nodded.

 

ÒAnd you love her?Ó

 

He nodded again.

 

ÒAnd you guess this marriage is over, too?Ó

 

ÒI guess it is.Ó

 

She got up, dressed quickly, and began to pack.  ÒIÕm going to go home.   I want you to stay away a couple more days, all right?   Give me time to get out of the house.  If I need to IÕll send someone for the rest of my things.  IÕll even explain to your father.Ó

 

His father would need no explanation.  His father had told him not to marry Sally.  Not that he didnÕt like her, but he thought she deserved better.  HeÕd always known that Hawkeye loved Margaret.  HeÕd never understood why she wasnÕt in their lives.

 

ÒYouÕre much better than I deserve,Ó he said softly.

 

ÒI know.Ó  She walked over, lifted up his chin.  ÒThe sad thing is: I think she is, too.Ó

 

##

 

Margaret watched Hawkeye come into the coffee shop.  BJ waved him over and he took a seat next to her, smiling at the rest of them then turning to look at her.

 

ÒShe that hung over?Ó

 

ÒNo, sheÕs that gone.Ó

 

ÒGone as in...?Ó

 

ÒAs in leaving me.  Our marriage is over.Ó  He took a deep breath then turned to the others as if he hadnÕt just dropped the bombshell of all bombshells.

 

She wasnÕt sure what to think, what to hope—or not hope.  Hope was stupid.  Hope was for pathetic people who never learned a damn thing in their

 

His fingers twined with hers under the table.  He gave her hand a slow squeeze.

 

Hope maybe was in the vicinity for once?  She squeezed his hand back.  Hated herself a little bit for doing it, but couldnÕt have stopped herself even if sheÕd wanted to.

 

Colonel Potter looked over at them, then asked Pierce softly, ÒWhereÕs Sally?Ó

 

ÒChecking out.Ó

 

ÒOf the hotel?Ó

 

ÒAmong other things.Ó

 

ÒHmmm.Ó  Potter looked at Margaret, smiled gently.  ÒHmmm.Ó

 

ÒIÕm going to be sticking around here for a couple more days,Ó Hawkeye said, ÒCould use a vacation.  Cleared it with work—they said yes so fast, they must think I need one too.Ó  He smiled tightly.

 

ÒBruce booked us in longer, too.Ó  She looked down. 

 

ÒWell, thatÕs working out just dandy, isnÕt it?Ó  There was only a mild trace of sarcasm in PotterÕs voice.  He mostly sounded happy.

 

ÒSomething we should know, Hawk?Ó  BJ looked toward them with a confused expression.

 

ÒIÕll tell you later,Ó he said, and his hand tightened on hers, almost unconsciously, she thought.

 

Potter was staring at her and she gave him a smile.  He smiled back, and she thought he was happy for her.

 

She also thought he looked a little bit worried.

 

##

 

People started saying goodbye after breakfast, heading home, their expressions sad. 

 

Hawkeye found BJ at the front desk.  ÒCheck out time, huh?Ó

 

BJ nodded, then turned and smiled gently.  ÒLook, this is none of my business, and if IÕm misreading what I think IÕm seeing, then you tell me.  But if you break MargaretÕs heart this time, IÕll hunt you down.Ó

 

Hawkeye laughed softly.  ÒYouÕd have good reason to.  How many chances does a man get?Ó  He looked down.  ÒSally was a nice girl.  I hurt her, too.Ó

 

ÒI know.  So, no more nice girls who canÕt replace Margaret.  And no hurting Margaret.  Got it?Ó

 

ÒGot it.Ó

 

ÒAnd, Hawk, for GodÕs sake be happy.  You two deserve it.Ó  BJ pulled him into a tight hug.  ÒCome out and visit us once you get settled.  Peg likes Margaret a lot.Ó

 

Hawkeye nodded.  ÒIf we get settled.Ó

 

ÒOkay, wrong word for you two.  Once the dust dies down some.  HowÕs that?Ó

 

ÒBetter.  I think.Ó

 

He saw Margaret giving Colonel Potter a huge hug, then giving Mildred just as big an embrace.  He walked over, smiled at them both.  ÒTill next time.Ó

 

ÒYou bet, son.Ó  Potter pulled him into a quick hug.  ÒTake good care of her or youÕll answer to me.  And if it makes you feel better, I told her the same thing.Ó

 

Hawkeye laughed.  ÒIt does, actually.  I hate being the bad guy.Ó

 

ÒI know you do.  ItÕs part of your charm.Ó

 

Hawkeye grinned, then turned to Mildred.   ÒMildred, my love, this man is one lucky devil.Ó 

 

ÒOh, you rascal.Ó  She gave him a kiss on the cheek.  ÒCome visit us sometime.  Missouri is lovely in the spring.Ó

 

ÒMissouri is lovely any season,Ó Potter said, his voice gruff.   ÒTake care, you two.Ó

 

And then it was just them.   Hawkeye looked down.  ÒSally checked us out of the room and theyÕve booked it—Ó

 

ÒI have mine for two more days.  You can stay with me.Ó  She gave him a stern look.  ÒYou can sleep in the bathtub.Ó

 

ÒWhatever works for you.Ó

 

Her stern look fell away and she looked slightly terrified.

 

ÒMargaret, itÕs all right.  ItÕs going to be all right.Ó

 

ÒI broke up your marriage.Ó

 

ÒWell, I broke up yours, so it seems only fair.Ó

 

She laughed but not very hard.  ÒWeÕre a mess.Ó

 

ÒCome on.Ó  He took her hand, led her to the elevators.  ÒI want to go swimming in the lake.Ó  He went into the room heÕd shared with Sally, could still smell a trace of her perfume in the air.  He grabbed his bag and followed Margaret to her room.   She went into the bathroom to change, then let him use it. 

 

It was charming, this sudden modesty, especially since there was no part of her he hadnÕt seen and vice versa.

 

But they were starting over.  This was the first day in a brand new way of being.  Not the Margaret of his past, but the Margaret of his future.  Of his present.

 

He turned her and backed up so he could admire her.  ÒStill the finest derriere in the world.Ó 

 

She was smiling as she turned around.  ÒYou did always seem captivated by it.Ó

 

ÒAmong other things.Ó  He looked away.  ÒIÕm sorry.  IÕm sorry for all—Ó

 

She lay her fingers on his lips.  ÒShut up, Pierce.  ItÕs in the past. Do it again, though, and thereÕll be hell to pay.Ó

 

ÒThatÕs the Major Houlihan I know and love.Ó

 

She looked away.  He waited until she looked back to say, ÒI do love you, Margaret,Ó and then he kissed her gently.

 

ÒI love you, too,Ó she said as they pulled away.  ÒSo weÕre not just going to fall into bed?Ó

 

ÒNo.  WeÕre going to go swimming.  And then weÕre going to have lunch at the burger stand and share a milkshake.Ó  He could feel his grin growing devilish.  ÒAnd then weÕre going to fall into bed.  And I may not let you out until itÕs time to check out.Ó

 

ÒAnd then what?Ó

 

ÒCan you come to Crabapple Cove?Ó

 

ÒWell, seeing as I donÕt have a place to live anymore, itÕs definitely an option.  I imagine Bruce has burned all my stuff.Ó

 

ÒWas there anything you wanted to get from your house? IÕll go with you.Ó  He didnÕt relish the thought of facing her husband, but heÕd do it—the man would not be hitting her again.

 

She seemed to think about it, then she shook her head.  ÒEverything—everyone—that I care about, was here this morning.Ó  She took a deep breath.  ÒI probably wonÕt get much of a reference from work, though, if I donÕt give a decent amount of notice.Ó

 

ÒWell, fortunately, I know the chief of surgery at the hospital I work at.Ó

 

ÒYou do, huh?Ó   Her smile told him she knew he was talking about himself.

 

ÒYep.  Nice guy.  Or can be.  If heÕs in the right mood. Kind of a jerk otherwise.  Never knows a good thing when he sees it.Ó

 

She smiled.  ÒHopefully thatÕs changing?Ó

 

ÒIt is.  Finally.Ó

 

She didnÕt look convinced.

 

He didnÕt blame her.

 

FIN