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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer I don't own the characters of Miss Parker, Jarod, Sydney or Broots but I do own Destiny, Nanna and Beth.
One of my nine muses paid me a visit yesterday morning and this little chapter is the result in the never ending saga (That is the way it seems to me) of Jarod and Miss Parker. FEEDBACK PLEASE This is for Niceole who hoped that MP would do the right thing.
Whatever It Takes
Part XXI
Trisha
21/?
"Are you okay, Parker?" Jarod looked at the forlorn figure that was sitting in the white wing-backed wicker chair. She glanced up into pain-filled eyes and took the moment to reflect on what she just imparted regarding her past. She wondered, is this how I felt at the time? Or am I seeing everything from a different perspective?
"I'm apprehensive, to be truthful! What about you, Jarod?" she had bared her soul. For once in her dismal life she told the truth and waited with bated breath for what.
Rejection. She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, clearing her vision as she watched Jarod walk over to the fireplace, which until now was unlit, he bent down and a faint scratching sound was heard, as flames sputtered to life, trying to grow, slowly. The bedroom took on an almost antiquated appearance.
"I'll deal with it. You?" he asked his back to her. Lifting her head, slightly, to look at his tall form, lean and dark against the flickering golden glow from in front of him--she realized that no matter what bizarre twist of fate her life took, Jarod was woven in it like a cloth on the weaver's loom. He held his hands toward the flames. Parker saw them spread open as though drawing strength from the heat.
"I'm. . . .," she began quietly," I don't know what I am."
Jarod gazed into the fire, silent then nodded before he replied," It's understandable. I wish . . . I wish I could have done something. Anything."
He turned to face her, his cheeks wet. The fire crackled and snapped-emitting forth the scent of autumn, even if it was only late summer. Parker looked at him and rubbed her palms on her knees.
"There was nothing you could have done, but now that you know. What?"
Jarod was down on his knees, looking into liquid blue eyes as the firelight played upon them. He tenderly pushed back her shoulder-length hair with his hands, then cupped her face.
"Would have been a beautiful baby," he whispered. Her lips formed a small smile as her cheeks felt a warm wetness run down them, only to be brushed away by Jarod's thumbs.
"Thank you," she said meekly and with that she slid out of the chair and into Jarod arms. Jarod stared into the fire from the bed, watching the flames dance, saying nothing, as Parker released her sorrow, rage and regret.
Eventually she stopped and drifted off to sleep in his arms. Jarod caressed her hair and vowed that Raines and company would pay. Pay dearly.
FEEDBACK, I'M BEGGING. Ractrish@aol.com
One of my nine muses paid me a visit yesterday morning and this little chapter is the result in the never ending saga (That is the way it seems to me) of Jarod and Miss Parker. FEEDBACK PLEASE This is for Niceole who hoped that MP would do the right thing.
Part XXI
Trisha
21/?
"Are you okay, Parker?" Jarod looked at the forlorn figure that was sitting in the white wing-backed wicker chair. She glanced up into pain-filled eyes and took the moment to reflect on what she just imparted regarding her past. She wondered, is this how I felt at the time? Or am I seeing everything from a different perspective?
"I'm apprehensive, to be truthful! What about you, Jarod?" she had bared her soul. For once in her dismal life she told the truth and waited with bated breath for what.
Rejection. She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, clearing her vision as she watched Jarod walk over to the fireplace, which until now was unlit, he bent down and a faint scratching sound was heard, as flames sputtered to life, trying to grow, slowly. The bedroom took on an almost antiquated appearance.
"I'll deal with it. You?" he asked his back to her. Lifting her head, slightly, to look at his tall form, lean and dark against the flickering golden glow from in front of him--she realized that no matter what bizarre twist of fate her life took, Jarod was woven in it like a cloth on the weaver's loom. He held his hands toward the flames. Parker saw them spread open as though drawing strength from the heat.
"I'm. . . .," she began quietly," I don't know what I am."
Jarod gazed into the fire, silent then nodded before he replied," It's understandable. I wish . . . I wish I could have done something. Anything."
He turned to face her, his cheeks wet. The fire crackled and snapped-emitting forth the scent of autumn, even if it was only late summer. Parker looked at him and rubbed her palms on her knees.
"There was nothing you could have done, but now that you know. What?"
Jarod was down on his knees, looking into liquid blue eyes as the firelight played upon them. He tenderly pushed back her shoulder-length hair with his hands, then cupped her face.
"Would have been a beautiful baby," he whispered. Her lips formed a small smile as her cheeks felt a warm wetness run down them, only to be brushed away by Jarod's thumbs.
"Thank you," she said meekly and with that she slid out of the chair and into Jarod arms. Jarod stared into the fire from the bed, watching the flames dance, saying nothing, as Parker released her sorrow, rage and regret.
Eventually she stopped and drifted off to sleep in his arms. Jarod caressed her hair and vowed that Raines and company would pay. Pay dearly.
FEEDBACK, I'M BEGGING. Ractrish@aol.com
