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the lurker
"Why is everyone a stranger to you?"
Parker closed her eyes, the question resounding in her mind. Sydney had asked her more than two years before, and yet it was still with her. He was right; everyone but her mother and Tommy had been outsiders, kept just out of reach, at a safe distance. There were no friends, except for Sydney and Broots, neither of whom were allowed to get close. Not even her father knew her. Not really.
When had she become so proficient in keeping people at a distance? The fear controlled her. The fear of letting people in, only to be hurt down the road when they left her, as had always been the case. She opened her eyes and focused on the picture of her mother holding her as a baby. God how she missed her still.
Her mother had trusted too many people, and obviously too many of the wrong people. It was a mistake that Miss Parker did not wish to repeat. An ironic smile curled her lips; there was one person her mother had trusted who had proven himself worthy in the long run: Sydney. Even though he had lied via omission a few times over the years, Parker knew that his motivation had either been the belief that he was protecting others, or fulfilling a promise. She couldn’t fault him entirely for it, although there had been times she wanted to hurt him for it.
It didn’t matter how many years piled one on top of the other, Parker still found it difficult to let anyone in. She had finally permitted Tommy into her life, only to have him violently ripped from her, leaving her alone with the pain of sorrow. And an existence full of strangers is what she had built around herself in the aftermath. A solitary life was what she had to show for her years, and it was all she had to look forward to, unless she did something about it. She grabbed her coat and her keys, and left the house, locking the door behind her.
********************
He felt absurdly tired, and wondered if it was age creeping up on him. That thought sent a smile to his lips; a smile of truth and denial. He wasn’t going to give in that easily; however, it had been an overly long day with little sleep the night before. He set the book in his hands down on the coffee table, and picked up the now empty glass of scotch, and carried it into the kitchen. He rinsed the glass, put it in the dishwasher and switched off the lights as he padded back out into the living room. He began closing the shutters, when he noticed the black Boxster parked out in front of his house. He shook his head; there would be no sleep yet.
Frowning, Sydney opened the front door and turned on the porch light. He walked across the well manicured front lawn, and around to the driver’s side window. Parker’s forehead was leaning on the steering wheel, and Sydney rapped lightly on the window, causing her to look up with a start. She glared at him for scaring her, and he calmly smiled. Irritated, Parker rolled the window down.
Sydney leaned in, "Miss Parker....are you okay?"
"Just peachy, Freud."
He frowned at her, "Has something happened?"
"No."
"What are you doing out here at this hour?"
"I’m sitting."
"That’s not what I meant, and you know it." She looked away, and he noticed that she was shivering slightly, "How long have you been sitting here?"
She stared at the steering wheel, "I don’t know."
He kept his voice nonchalant, but the weight of his concern was behind it, "Are you coming in, or are you staying out? I’m getting cold."
Parker noticed he was wearing only a tee shirt and twill pants, her voice turned caustic, "I’m leaving, actually."
As she reached for the key in the ignition, she felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder. She looked up into the deep brown eyes which were no longer trying to cover the worry behind them.
"You must have driven here for a reason, Parker, at least come in and get warm. There’s a fire in the living room. I’ll make you a cup of tea. Come on...."
After a long hesitation, Parker pulled the keys from the ignition, stepped out of the car, and followed Sydney into the house. The warmth radiating from the living room felt good, and she realized that she was chilled to the bone. Sydney observed her shiver involuntarily as he closed the door. Gently he guided her to a large chair in the living room; the one closest to the fireplace. He picked up an oversized throw blanket off the couch and wrapped it around her.
His voice resonated with soft regard, "Maybe something stronger than tea?"
She looked up at him and nodded. Sydney shuffled into the kitchen and carefully heated up some rum, butter and sugar in a saucepan. As soon as it was steaming, he poured it into a mug and carried it into the living room, handing it to Parker.
He sat on the edge of the ottoman directly in front of her chair, "Now, do you want to tell me what’s the matter?"
Parker took a long sip of the rum, "Nothing, really." Sydney stared at her, the disbelief clouding his features, she smiled sadly, "Everything, really."
He let the silence gently lie between them, not wanting to push her. Parker took another sip of the rum, and let the warmth of the cup caress her hands. Finally she looked into the depths of the dark eyes quietly watching her.
"My mother trusted you," she blurted out, "Can I?"
A slight crease appeared on his brow, but a gentle smile curved his lips, "What does your heart tell you?"
Parker nodded and looked away, considering the idea of it. She sipped again from the mug, allowing the warm liquid to engulf her, but she shivered anyway.
"How about another blanket?"
She shook her head no. Sydney sighed, but sat patiently, waiting for her to get to the reason she had shown up at his house so late at night.
"A long time ago, you asked me why everyone in my life is a stranger to me."
"Yes. You’ve finally come up with an answer have you?"
"Yes and no...."
She paused, her fear momentarily getting the best of her. Sydney waited calmly, watching the emotions play out on her face.
A wry smile lit her lips, "It’s funny, but nothing quite scares me as much as the thought of trusting someone."
Sydney placed a tender hand on her knee, "It wasn’t always so, Parker. Don’t you remember?"
"Before my mother died, you mean?" He nodded and she continued,
"I remember feeling happy, I remember feeling safe, I remember feeling...."
"Loved?"
"Yes, loved. Beyond that...."
Her voice trailed off, and Sydney could see her battling down the raw emotions trying to rise to the surface. He let his hand rest on her knee, as a gentle reminder of his concern for her, "Trust and openness, Parker. You possessed both qualities in abundance when you were a little girl." He held her eyes with his, "Is that what you’re looking to find? Is that why you came here, hmmm?" She looked down into her mug, and Sydney leaned his head down, trying to recapture her eyes with his, "You want to know if these things still exist inside you...."
Parker couldn’t keep the smile from curving her lips. Sydney knew her better than she had thought.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him, reminding him of the scared little girl who lost her mother, "I don’t want to feel so alone anymore."
He relieved her of the mug and set it on the hearth, taking her hands into both of his, "You’ve never been alone, Parker. Even when you have refused to accept my friendship, I’ve kept an eye on you. I gave my word to your mother...."
"Was that the only reason?"
"I think you know better than that."
Tears filled Parker’s eyes, and she leaned her head toward him, until her forehead fell gently into his, "Help me, Syd. I don’t want to spend my life surrounded by strangers who should be friends."
His voice was soft and caring, "You have to trust something that is outside of your control. You start with one person, Miss Parker. and you take a chance."
She squeezed the large hands holding hers, "I’m not sure that I remember how...."
Sydney pulled his head away from hers and brushed the hair out of her eyes, and the tears off her cheeks, "You remember how, Parker. You proved it by coming here tonight." He cupped her chin with his hand, "You took a chance by reaching out to me."
"A fairly safe choice as it turns out."
He smiled into the big grey eyes, "But a choice nonetheless. It’s not easy for you to let down the protective barriers you’ve constructed. But you must, Parker, or you’ll never find happiness." He paused and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice very low, "I don’t want to see you go through your life with the Centre as your only friend, lover and confidante. I don’t want you to turn out like--"
Sydney looked away, unable to voice it, and Parker finished the thought for him, "Like you?"
His voice was a mere whisper of regret, "Yes. There’s so much more out there for you, if you’ll just give it a chance."
"Then I’ll start with the person my mother trusted the most." Sydney’s eyes flicked up to hers, and a smile lit her face, "Don’t let me down."
He knew exactly what she feared, "I won’t leave you, Parker." He stood up, smiling, "I do need to get some sleep though...."
Parker kept a tight grasp on his hand, "Is it all right if I stay here awhile?"
He nodded, "You okay?"
She smiled, "Yeah." For the first time she noticed how tired he appeared, "Go get some rest, Syd, you look exhausted."
"I"ll stay up with you, if you need me to..."
"I know, but I’m really okay."
"You warm enough?"
"I am now."
The significance of the words was not lost on Sydney, who smiled at her, "If you get tired, there are linens and pillows in the hallway closet next to the guest room upstairs. I don’t want you driving if you’re sleepy, understand?"
"I’m not five, Sydney..."
"Uh-huh," Sydney leaned down and kissed her forehead, "Don’t stay up too late."
She nodded at him, and Sydney headed toward the stairs, turning when she called to him, "Syd?
"Hmm?"
"In case no one ever says it to you, you’re a good father."
Sydney’s eyes flooded with emotion, and his voice was soft, "That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Miss Parker."
"Good night, Syd."
"Good night."
She listened to his footsteps trudge up the stairs, followed by the gentle click of his bedroom door closing. She hoped he would sleep peacefully. It wasn’t long before Miss Parker was sound asleep herself, in the comfort of the chair and the warmth of the fire. She felt safe, she felt happy; she felt loved. It was nice having one less stranger in her life.
fin
