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Chapter or Story
See Part 1 for disclaimer.
A/N: Two day delay with this one. Sorry. I sort of hit the wall this weekend. Remember, this I do for fun only. To keep the kitties in kitty litter, I actually hold down an EXTREMELY demanding day job! More to follow soon, I promise.
Brand New Year, Part 6
By Ginger
Be careful what you wish for.
Jarod pondered that proverb within the context of the last 24 hours of his life. The day had dawned with him wishing that Parker and Michael were his and had ended with it firmly established that they were. Well, he was. The jury was still out on her.
He sighed, frowning. The last year had in many ways been a bitter one as he'd attempted, unsuccessfully, to talk himself out of wanting her. In some ways, he'd been lonelier than at any time since his escape. She had made herself clear in the car in Glasgow and, it turns out, she'd been absolutely right. If she had listened to him and they'd run away together, she wouldn't have been there for Michael and they might never have learned the truth about their son. That thought sent a chill down his spine, causing him to turn away from the window and find the child sitting up in bed beside his sleeping mother.
"Your Aunt Em was right; you seem to have inherited my lousy sleeping habits," he whispered as he approached.
"Da."
"Shhh," he responded, his heart soaring as he wondered if he'd ever get used to hearing that. "We don't want to wake Mommy. She needs her rest."
Jarod scooped him up and, pressing his forehead to the boy's, smiled and whispered, "How are you, kiddo? And why aren't you sleeping?"
Michael pointed to the window and Jarod nodded, carrying him over so he could see outside. Together they gazed into the moonlit night until the child pointed again.
"That's the moon," Jarod explained then watched as his son silently mouthed the word, his lips shaping into a perfect little "o."
"That's right," he encouraged then kissed the boy's forehead and went on, "It's a big world out there and there's so much to see. I have a lot to show you and, because I haven't been out here as long as most daddys, we'll see a lot of things together for the first time." Leaning into Michael's ear he added conspiratorily, "Mommy too but she doesn't know it yet."
"I've got an idea," he continued softly. "What do you say we bundle you up and go for a walk after breakfast? Winter is a beautiful time of year. Snow... that's that white stuff covering everything... see? Well, snow can be a lot of fun and extremely versatile too. You can build a snowman, you can make it into balls and throw it at people, but not too hard because you don't want anyone to get hurt. You can ski, snowboard or snowshoe on it. Oh, and you if you've got a good hill, you can go tobboganing. That's my favorite. Maybe when Mommy's better we'll all go. I've never gone with her but, judging by the way she operates a motor vehicle, I'm sure she'll like it too."
Michael yawned and rubbed his eyes then blinked at his father, who advised, "We can't do any of that until you get some sleep. But first..." he added, furrowing his brow as he gently squeezed the back of his son's diaper through his pajamas and noted that it felt warm and heavy. "We'd better see what's going on in here."
* * * *
"Jarod," she called out the moment he stepped back into the room.
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No. I woke up on my own and Michael was gone. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, he's right here," he reassured. "He had a wet diaper and I didn't have a fresh one handy."
He leaned over the bed and gently set the boy down beside his mother then added, "We've been having a nice little chat."
"You should be sleeping, little man," she chided affectionately. "And so should you," she added somewhat less sweetly to his father.
Jarod was thankful for the cloudless night and the bright winter moon softly illuminating everything in the room. He watched as Parker turned halfway onto her right side to face her son then used her good arm to pull the blankets over him. His little hand went up immediately to wrap around her index finger and she inched closer to him, leaning in to press several kisses to his face.
Michael stared into her face for a time then turned his head to look up at his father. Reaching one arm up he declared,
"Da!"
Jarod met Parker's startled eyes, which must have mirrored his own. She lifted her head off the pillow and blinked inquisitively.
"Da!" the child repeated more forcefully.
"I think... he... he wants me to..." Jarod stammered. Parker nodded slowly then averted her eyes.
Good thing Dad let me have the big bed, he thought wryly, struggling to keep his pulse and respiration under control as he gingerly sank into a seated position on the mattress. With a deep, fortifying breath, he swung his legs up and lowered himself into a reclining position then turned on his side to prop his head up on his elbow.
"Is that better?" he asked softly then offered his index finger to his son, who took it immediately.
Michael turned his head from side to side, alternating his gaze from his mother to his father a few times before yawning and settling down. After a few minutes his eyes began to drift slowly closed and after a few minutes more his deep, rhythmic breathing signalled that he was asleep. Only then did his parents' eyes shift from him to one another.
"Thank you," Jarod whispered.
"I want him to get comfortable around you before..." she trailed off and, even in relative darkness, he could see the pain flash across her face.
When he disagreed with her, which was often, Jarod usually challenged her directly. Her typical response was to dig in her heels. Such was the nature of their volatile relationship and, he realized, was part of what made her so interesting and exciting. But this situation, he concluded, called for a different strategy. He would not argue with her about this or anything else, for a while anyway. Parker had managed to put aside her passionate drive to avenge Thomas's death to safely bring their child into the world. Then she had risked her life to set him free and bring him to Jarod. As far as he was concerned, the woman had earned herself one heck of a pass.
"I meant thank you for... everything," he clarified, paused a moment then continued, "Andi..."
Her eyes grew wide as he uttered aloud his childhood nickname for her, but her expression remained soft. Detecting no trace of anger he went on,
"You've done all the hard work - carried this weight alone - for months. I'm asking you to trust me to bear the brunt for now. Let me worry about the future while you recover and enjoy Michael."
Jarod watched in cautious optimism as Parker turned her head to stare up at the ceiling, obviously pondering his words.
* * * *
"Ready?" he asked, ducking his head and lowering his eyes. She nodded in response then quickly looked away.
A tense silence settled over the room. Having conducted his regular check of her vital signs, he felt it was time to change the bandage and inspect the wound. That would, of course, require that she partially disrobe and, now that Parker was clearly out of danger, Jarod was finding it increasingly difficult to remain clinically detached while tending to her. As she began to undo the buttons of the large slate-blue chambray shirt, his shirt, a wave of panic hit and he considered calling off the entire procedure and sending for Dr. Donohue. Holding the sheet up to her chest to keep things modest, she began struggling to slide the material off her left shoulder. Abandoning his previous train of thought, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and offered,
"Here, let me help you, Parker."
"No," she replied and he backed off immediately.
"I mean," she explained, "You don't have to call me that anymore. Actually, I'd prefer if you didn't. I will no longer go by that vile, cursed name. Someday, if things ever change and the opportunity presents itself, I'll have it legally changed to Mama's maiden name."
"Jamison," Jarod murmured.
Nodding she went on, "Right now it doesn't really matter because, obviously, I'll need an alias. More like several, actually."
"And in the meantime?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You know my name. Use it."
"It will be my immense pleasure, Miranda," he said with a wide smile.
"Yeah, yeah, let's get on with it, monkeyboy."
"While we're on the topic, I prefer Jarod."
"And your point is?"
"Oh, nothing," he answered with an exaggerated sigh then proceeded to gently slip her left arm out of the shirt.
He carefully removed the large bandage that wrapped, front to back, around the top of her shoulder. Thoroughly examining the wound he reported, "Looks good. No sign of infection, which is what I expected with your temperature almost back to normal. We'll get you started on solid food today and, if that goes well, we'll be able to switch to oral meds."
"Well, that's a relief," she responded. "My ass is killing me."
"Such a way with words," he quipped as he dabbed at the wound with Betadine.
He then proceeded to prepare and apply a fresh bandage, taping it securely it place. Smoothing the last piece of surgical tape over her skin, Jarod became so caught up in his task that he forgot to be clinically detached. His fingertips slipped from the tape to the skin of her upper back then slid over the curve of her shoulder to sweep down her arm to the elbow.
"Very soft, Miranda," he muttered, his eyes tracking the path of his fingers. "Very, very soft."
"A move like that could cost a doctor his license."
Her comment broke his reverie and he pulled back. Searching Parker's eyes, he found vulnerability and apprehension, but no hostility, and was so relieved that he couldn't help but grin and remark,
"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not really a doctor."
He didn't fail to miss the grudging smile that appeared on her lips despite her best efforts to stifle it, but chose not to comment. Instead he helped her back into the shirt and offered,
"When Emily is finished giving Michael breakfast, I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping you in the bathroom if you'd like to freshen up."
Sitting back and rebuttoning the shirt, she wrinkled her nose and replied, "Thanks, I appreciate it. Any chance of getting some real clothes to wear?"
"So, you don't find my shirt and Dad's flannel robe to be the height of fashion?" he inquired amusedly.
"I think I'd feel a little less pathetic and helpless in something else."
"I cannot imagine how you could possibly feel either of those things," he commented with a frown then added, "But I'll see what I can do. I'd really like you to come downstairs for breakfast. And I'm sure the family would... oh, God."
"What is it?"
"Michael and I sort of spilled the beans yesterday afternoon but I needed some time for everything to sink in before I went into details. Last night at dinner, I promised them that I'd explain everything this morning."
Nodding Parker advised, "Then I guess you better get down there."
"Yeah," Jarod concurred with a nod. "I guess so."
* * * *
After bringing Michael upstairs to sit with his mother, Jarod assembled the family in the den, took a deep breath, and launched unceremoniously into the saga. Charles stared in stunned disbelief, Emily cried, and James appeared remarkably unfazed as Jarod recounted the story of how he and Parker had unknowingly become parents. About halfway through the narrative, he remembered the file still sitting in the trunk of the SUV. Lost in a fog of emotions the day before, he'd forgotten all about it. Perhaps he'd read it today, he thought, but not before taking Michael for that promised walk.
When he finished, the question on everyone's lips was the same: "What now?" Shaking his head, he confided that he wasn't sure and, with a frown, shared Parker's plans with them.
"But she can't do that!" James blurted.
"I know," Jarod agreed with a nod then added, "But I am not going to press her about it, at least not right now. I have a real talent for pushing her buttons and I simply refuse to upset her further, not after everything she's been through and done for him."
His father and sister nodded empathetically but James glared into his eyes and warned, "I sure hope you're not going to blow this," before getting up and stalking out of the room.
"I'm sorry, son," the Major offered, rising from his seat. Approaching Jarod and squeezing his shoulder he encouraged, "I'm sure he didn't mean it."
"Oh, he meant it, and he's right. I hope I don't blow this either because, if I do, my son will never forgive me." Abruptly changing the subject Jarod added, "Em, I was wondering if you'd help Parker get washed up. And if it's not too much trouble, see if you can find something that she can wear until we get her some things of her own."
"Of course," his sister replied, drying her cheeks as she stood up.
"When she's dressed I'll help her downstairs so she can have breakfast. Then," he tacked on resolutely, "I'm taking my son outside to play in the snow."
* * * *
James wandered into the den to find Parker alone in front of the fire. After breakfast, Jarod had settled her onto the couch, put her feet up, tucked a blanket around her, and hovered until she finally told him to get lost. That's when he bundled up Michael and took him outside. Soon after, the Major announced that he was going to see Dr. Donohue to thank him again for his help and report on Miss Parker's progress. Emily's whereabouts, however, were a mystery.
"Where's Em?" he asked, flopping onto an adjacent chair.
"Upstairs, I hope. I think I was finally able to convince her that I wouldn't keel over if she took a few minutes for herself. I really wish everyone would stop fussing over me."
"We're just concerned about you, that's all."
"Well, I appreciate that but you shouldn't be. I've been taking care of myself for a very long time."
I swear, I have to do EVERYTHING around here, he mused with a heavenward glance. Returning his gaze to her he stated, "I'm glad we're alone, Miss Parker, because there are a few things I need to say to you."
Raising her eyebrows she replied, "Are there? And it's Miranda, James, please."
"Okay, Miranda," he began with nod as he sat forward in his chair.
"Let's get a few things straight."
# # # #
A/N: Two day delay with this one. Sorry. I sort of hit the wall this weekend. Remember, this I do for fun only. To keep the kitties in kitty litter, I actually hold down an EXTREMELY demanding day job! More to follow soon, I promise.
Brand New Year, Part 6
By Ginger
Be careful what you wish for.
Jarod pondered that proverb within the context of the last 24 hours of his life. The day had dawned with him wishing that Parker and Michael were his and had ended with it firmly established that they were. Well, he was. The jury was still out on her.
He sighed, frowning. The last year had in many ways been a bitter one as he'd attempted, unsuccessfully, to talk himself out of wanting her. In some ways, he'd been lonelier than at any time since his escape. She had made herself clear in the car in Glasgow and, it turns out, she'd been absolutely right. If she had listened to him and they'd run away together, she wouldn't have been there for Michael and they might never have learned the truth about their son. That thought sent a chill down his spine, causing him to turn away from the window and find the child sitting up in bed beside his sleeping mother.
"Your Aunt Em was right; you seem to have inherited my lousy sleeping habits," he whispered as he approached.
"Da."
"Shhh," he responded, his heart soaring as he wondered if he'd ever get used to hearing that. "We don't want to wake Mommy. She needs her rest."
Jarod scooped him up and, pressing his forehead to the boy's, smiled and whispered, "How are you, kiddo? And why aren't you sleeping?"
Michael pointed to the window and Jarod nodded, carrying him over so he could see outside. Together they gazed into the moonlit night until the child pointed again.
"That's the moon," Jarod explained then watched as his son silently mouthed the word, his lips shaping into a perfect little "o."
"That's right," he encouraged then kissed the boy's forehead and went on, "It's a big world out there and there's so much to see. I have a lot to show you and, because I haven't been out here as long as most daddys, we'll see a lot of things together for the first time." Leaning into Michael's ear he added conspiratorily, "Mommy too but she doesn't know it yet."
"I've got an idea," he continued softly. "What do you say we bundle you up and go for a walk after breakfast? Winter is a beautiful time of year. Snow... that's that white stuff covering everything... see? Well, snow can be a lot of fun and extremely versatile too. You can build a snowman, you can make it into balls and throw it at people, but not too hard because you don't want anyone to get hurt. You can ski, snowboard or snowshoe on it. Oh, and you if you've got a good hill, you can go tobboganing. That's my favorite. Maybe when Mommy's better we'll all go. I've never gone with her but, judging by the way she operates a motor vehicle, I'm sure she'll like it too."
Michael yawned and rubbed his eyes then blinked at his father, who advised, "We can't do any of that until you get some sleep. But first..." he added, furrowing his brow as he gently squeezed the back of his son's diaper through his pajamas and noted that it felt warm and heavy. "We'd better see what's going on in here."
* * * *
"Jarod," she called out the moment he stepped back into the room.
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No. I woke up on my own and Michael was gone. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, he's right here," he reassured. "He had a wet diaper and I didn't have a fresh one handy."
He leaned over the bed and gently set the boy down beside his mother then added, "We've been having a nice little chat."
"You should be sleeping, little man," she chided affectionately. "And so should you," she added somewhat less sweetly to his father.
Jarod was thankful for the cloudless night and the bright winter moon softly illuminating everything in the room. He watched as Parker turned halfway onto her right side to face her son then used her good arm to pull the blankets over him. His little hand went up immediately to wrap around her index finger and she inched closer to him, leaning in to press several kisses to his face.
Michael stared into her face for a time then turned his head to look up at his father. Reaching one arm up he declared,
"Da!"
Jarod met Parker's startled eyes, which must have mirrored his own. She lifted her head off the pillow and blinked inquisitively.
"Da!" the child repeated more forcefully.
"I think... he... he wants me to..." Jarod stammered. Parker nodded slowly then averted her eyes.
Good thing Dad let me have the big bed, he thought wryly, struggling to keep his pulse and respiration under control as he gingerly sank into a seated position on the mattress. With a deep, fortifying breath, he swung his legs up and lowered himself into a reclining position then turned on his side to prop his head up on his elbow.
"Is that better?" he asked softly then offered his index finger to his son, who took it immediately.
Michael turned his head from side to side, alternating his gaze from his mother to his father a few times before yawning and settling down. After a few minutes his eyes began to drift slowly closed and after a few minutes more his deep, rhythmic breathing signalled that he was asleep. Only then did his parents' eyes shift from him to one another.
"Thank you," Jarod whispered.
"I want him to get comfortable around you before..." she trailed off and, even in relative darkness, he could see the pain flash across her face.
When he disagreed with her, which was often, Jarod usually challenged her directly. Her typical response was to dig in her heels. Such was the nature of their volatile relationship and, he realized, was part of what made her so interesting and exciting. But this situation, he concluded, called for a different strategy. He would not argue with her about this or anything else, for a while anyway. Parker had managed to put aside her passionate drive to avenge Thomas's death to safely bring their child into the world. Then she had risked her life to set him free and bring him to Jarod. As far as he was concerned, the woman had earned herself one heck of a pass.
"I meant thank you for... everything," he clarified, paused a moment then continued, "Andi..."
Her eyes grew wide as he uttered aloud his childhood nickname for her, but her expression remained soft. Detecting no trace of anger he went on,
"You've done all the hard work - carried this weight alone - for months. I'm asking you to trust me to bear the brunt for now. Let me worry about the future while you recover and enjoy Michael."
Jarod watched in cautious optimism as Parker turned her head to stare up at the ceiling, obviously pondering his words.
* * * *
"Ready?" he asked, ducking his head and lowering his eyes. She nodded in response then quickly looked away.
A tense silence settled over the room. Having conducted his regular check of her vital signs, he felt it was time to change the bandage and inspect the wound. That would, of course, require that she partially disrobe and, now that Parker was clearly out of danger, Jarod was finding it increasingly difficult to remain clinically detached while tending to her. As she began to undo the buttons of the large slate-blue chambray shirt, his shirt, a wave of panic hit and he considered calling off the entire procedure and sending for Dr. Donohue. Holding the sheet up to her chest to keep things modest, she began struggling to slide the material off her left shoulder. Abandoning his previous train of thought, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and offered,
"Here, let me help you, Parker."
"No," she replied and he backed off immediately.
"I mean," she explained, "You don't have to call me that anymore. Actually, I'd prefer if you didn't. I will no longer go by that vile, cursed name. Someday, if things ever change and the opportunity presents itself, I'll have it legally changed to Mama's maiden name."
"Jamison," Jarod murmured.
Nodding she went on, "Right now it doesn't really matter because, obviously, I'll need an alias. More like several, actually."
"And in the meantime?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You know my name. Use it."
"It will be my immense pleasure, Miranda," he said with a wide smile.
"Yeah, yeah, let's get on with it, monkeyboy."
"While we're on the topic, I prefer Jarod."
"And your point is?"
"Oh, nothing," he answered with an exaggerated sigh then proceeded to gently slip her left arm out of the shirt.
He carefully removed the large bandage that wrapped, front to back, around the top of her shoulder. Thoroughly examining the wound he reported, "Looks good. No sign of infection, which is what I expected with your temperature almost back to normal. We'll get you started on solid food today and, if that goes well, we'll be able to switch to oral meds."
"Well, that's a relief," she responded. "My ass is killing me."
"Such a way with words," he quipped as he dabbed at the wound with Betadine.
He then proceeded to prepare and apply a fresh bandage, taping it securely it place. Smoothing the last piece of surgical tape over her skin, Jarod became so caught up in his task that he forgot to be clinically detached. His fingertips slipped from the tape to the skin of her upper back then slid over the curve of her shoulder to sweep down her arm to the elbow.
"Very soft, Miranda," he muttered, his eyes tracking the path of his fingers. "Very, very soft."
"A move like that could cost a doctor his license."
Her comment broke his reverie and he pulled back. Searching Parker's eyes, he found vulnerability and apprehension, but no hostility, and was so relieved that he couldn't help but grin and remark,
"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not really a doctor."
He didn't fail to miss the grudging smile that appeared on her lips despite her best efforts to stifle it, but chose not to comment. Instead he helped her back into the shirt and offered,
"When Emily is finished giving Michael breakfast, I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping you in the bathroom if you'd like to freshen up."
Sitting back and rebuttoning the shirt, she wrinkled her nose and replied, "Thanks, I appreciate it. Any chance of getting some real clothes to wear?"
"So, you don't find my shirt and Dad's flannel robe to be the height of fashion?" he inquired amusedly.
"I think I'd feel a little less pathetic and helpless in something else."
"I cannot imagine how you could possibly feel either of those things," he commented with a frown then added, "But I'll see what I can do. I'd really like you to come downstairs for breakfast. And I'm sure the family would... oh, God."
"What is it?"
"Michael and I sort of spilled the beans yesterday afternoon but I needed some time for everything to sink in before I went into details. Last night at dinner, I promised them that I'd explain everything this morning."
Nodding Parker advised, "Then I guess you better get down there."
"Yeah," Jarod concurred with a nod. "I guess so."
* * * *
After bringing Michael upstairs to sit with his mother, Jarod assembled the family in the den, took a deep breath, and launched unceremoniously into the saga. Charles stared in stunned disbelief, Emily cried, and James appeared remarkably unfazed as Jarod recounted the story of how he and Parker had unknowingly become parents. About halfway through the narrative, he remembered the file still sitting in the trunk of the SUV. Lost in a fog of emotions the day before, he'd forgotten all about it. Perhaps he'd read it today, he thought, but not before taking Michael for that promised walk.
When he finished, the question on everyone's lips was the same: "What now?" Shaking his head, he confided that he wasn't sure and, with a frown, shared Parker's plans with them.
"But she can't do that!" James blurted.
"I know," Jarod agreed with a nod then added, "But I am not going to press her about it, at least not right now. I have a real talent for pushing her buttons and I simply refuse to upset her further, not after everything she's been through and done for him."
His father and sister nodded empathetically but James glared into his eyes and warned, "I sure hope you're not going to blow this," before getting up and stalking out of the room.
"I'm sorry, son," the Major offered, rising from his seat. Approaching Jarod and squeezing his shoulder he encouraged, "I'm sure he didn't mean it."
"Oh, he meant it, and he's right. I hope I don't blow this either because, if I do, my son will never forgive me." Abruptly changing the subject Jarod added, "Em, I was wondering if you'd help Parker get washed up. And if it's not too much trouble, see if you can find something that she can wear until we get her some things of her own."
"Of course," his sister replied, drying her cheeks as she stood up.
"When she's dressed I'll help her downstairs so she can have breakfast. Then," he tacked on resolutely, "I'm taking my son outside to play in the snow."
* * * *
James wandered into the den to find Parker alone in front of the fire. After breakfast, Jarod had settled her onto the couch, put her feet up, tucked a blanket around her, and hovered until she finally told him to get lost. That's when he bundled up Michael and took him outside. Soon after, the Major announced that he was going to see Dr. Donohue to thank him again for his help and report on Miss Parker's progress. Emily's whereabouts, however, were a mystery.
"Where's Em?" he asked, flopping onto an adjacent chair.
"Upstairs, I hope. I think I was finally able to convince her that I wouldn't keel over if she took a few minutes for herself. I really wish everyone would stop fussing over me."
"We're just concerned about you, that's all."
"Well, I appreciate that but you shouldn't be. I've been taking care of myself for a very long time."
I swear, I have to do EVERYTHING around here, he mused with a heavenward glance. Returning his gaze to her he stated, "I'm glad we're alone, Miss Parker, because there are a few things I need to say to you."
Raising her eyebrows she replied, "Are there? And it's Miranda, James, please."
"Okay, Miranda," he began with nod as he sat forward in his chair.
"Let's get a few things straight."
# # # #
