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One Good Turn Part 13
Coping with Joy
By Phenyx
Jarod sat on the floor in the dark hallway with his back to the wall. His wrists hung limply over his bent knees as he gazed across the hall into the bedroom. Light from the full moon was shining through the large picture window, illuminating the bed and the figure resting there. Her hair, tangled and shoved haphazardly away from her face, fanned across the pillow like a dark halo shimmering in the moonlight.
Jarod shook his head in wonder. The fact that this incredible woman was his wife was still difficult for Jarod to believe, nearly a year after they had taken their vows.
Of course, the life that he shared with Parker wasn't the perfect picture of harmony that Jarod had envisioned. Parker was a strong-willed and passionate woman. Parker's tenacity combined with Jarod's equally stubborn personality occasionally resulted in a powder keg of emotion. They'd had some incredible fights. On more than one occasion, the two of them had exchanged harsh and bitterly angry words. Parker had once, in a fit of pique, thrown a vase at Jarod's head. But the pretender knew when to duck.
They didn't argue as often as they had in the past. Their marriage had given the relationship a psychological permanence and emotional confidence that had been lacking. They were each less likely to lash out at the other in fits of self-preservation. But when they did disagree, there were always fireworks.
Making up afterwards was equally intense. The passion that Parker displayed in anger was surpassed only by the enthusiasm she showed her husband in bed. She'd never lost a conflict in that department. Parker dominated over Jarod in the bedroom, and he submitted to her gladly.
Now, as Jarod watched his wife sleeping just a few feet away, he realized that there would be no arguments for a long while. Parker had earned the right to win the next few battles. The way Jarod felt at this moment, years could pass before he would be callous enough to oppose his wife's wishes.
Tonight, Parker had surpassed Jarod's most secret desires. Tonight she had given Jarod a son.
The boy had been born just a few hours ago in the same bed in which he'd been conceived. Jarod and Parker, both fearful and suspicious of the safety of their child in a public hospital, had chosen to hire a mid-wife so that their child could be born at home. Parker's uneventful pregnancy and the secluded location of their home made the choice simple.
Jarod sighed and raked one hand through his hair. It had been the longest night of his life. Though Jarod knew that fourteen hours wasn't a particularly long labor, it had seemed interminable.
Parker had endured the long afternoon and evening with a studied calm. She concentrated on her breathing and the relaxation techniques they had been practicing for months. For most of her labor, Parker had inhaled and exhaled serenely. Between contractions she slept. It was only through the increasingly fierce grip Parker had on his hand that Jarod was able to gauge the amount of pain she'd truly been in.
Everything had changed as Parker transitioned from labor toward the delivery. Her body had surged with adrenaline, naturally preparing her with the strength needed to bear her child. It had also caused a wave of mind- numbing panic that left her weeping.
When Parker had clutched at his shirt and whimpered his name, it had nearly been Jarod's undoing. There was nothing he could do but hold on and murmur soothing nonsense into her ear. She had cried out only once. Jarod had been forced to watch helplessly as her single shriek of pain morphed into a groan of effort and Parker began to push.
Jarod continued to offer words of encouragement, though he knew Parker couldn't hear him. Aside from being a firm object to brace against, Parker was oblivious to her husband's presence. Every fiber of her being had focused only on the impulsive need to bear down.
Panting with exhaustion after her second effort, Parker had looked up at Caryn, the mid-wife. The older woman had grinned and said, "Give me your hand, Parker. Your baby is nearly here already."
Jarod had stepped back and watched in dumbfounded wonder as the mid-wife had guided Parker's hand to the tuft of dark hair that was now visible. As another contraction rocked her, Parker groaned with exertion. Her fingertips slid across a damp brow and over a small nose as the head emerged.
While gulping in air between contractions, Parker caressed the baby's cheek with her thumb. The child, not yet free of its mother, instinctively turned its head toward the stimulus. Small rosebud shaped lips formed a little O as they searched blindly for succor. When the tiny mouth found Parker's fingertips, it startled to suckle greedily.
Jarod ceased to breath as the shear awe of the moment overwhelmed him. Parker bubbled with delighted laughter and her eyes shimmered with joy as she looked at her husband. "Just like Daddy." Parker laughed merrily. "Always thinking about his stomach."
A moment later the wet, blood-streaked little boy lay on his mother's abdomen, bawling angrily at the abrupt change in his environment. Parker was laughing and crying simultaneously as she took the infant in her arms and wrapped him in the warm cotton blanket the mid-wife had provided.
Jarod had stared at the pair in stunned disbelief. He'd drifted through the next couple of hours in a daze. The mid-wife had flitted around the room in a flurry of activity, measuring, weighing and cleaning the newborn infant. There had been a dizzying few moments, as the after-birth had been expelled, when Jarod realized how much blood Parker had just lost. The thought that his beloved wife could bleed to death abruptly shot through his mind. A jolt of pure terror at the possibility had left the pretender reeling.
Taking deep relaxing breaths, Jarod forced aside the panic rising in his chest. Clinging desperately to the analytical portion of his mind, Jarod looked at the scene with a more clinical perspective.
Parker, looking a little pale and weary, was otherwise fine. The blood, though unsettling, was a natural part of childbirth, nothing more. Sitting up against several pillows propped against the headboard, Parker was gazing adoringly at the little boy in her arms. She grinned up at Jarod in delight as the babe found her breast and quickly learned how to nurse.
Jarod wasn't sure how long he stood there. He was vaguely conscious of the fact that he should do something, anything. But his brain seemed to have stopped functioning. He stood rooted to the spot like a big grinning idiot. He was aware that Caryn had spoken to him more than once and he had replied. But thinking back on it now, Jarod couldn't recall a single word the woman had said to him.
When Parker had held her hand out to Jarod, beckoning him to her side, he had perched on the edge of the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. There Jarod had stayed until the mid-wife had finally shooed him from the room so that Parker could sleep.
Jarod had only gone as far as the hallway, propping himself in a position that allowed him to easily see the sleeping occupants of the bedroom.
Sydney came down the dark hall and quietly settled on the floor beside the tired pretender.
"I took Caryn home." The older man said.
Jarod grunted softly in response.
"She'll come by late tomorrow afternoon to check on things." Sydney went on. "But she wanted you to feel free to call her before then if anything comes up."
Jarod nodded.
Sydney smiled sympathetically at the younger man. With a tilt of the head the psychiatrist asked, "How are you holding up, Jarod?"
With a shrug of his shoulders, Jarod heaved a deep sigh.
"Feeling a little overwhelmed?" Sydney pressed intuitively.
With a stuttering burst of laughter, Jarod nodded again. "I can't." Jarod gasped. "I just." He swallowed hard and shook his head, unable to trust voice.
Sydney put an arm around Jarod's shoulders and smiled encouragingly at him. "Its okay, Jarod. You are entitled to feel that way."
Watery brown eyes gazed up at the older man. "Sydney," Jarod whispered. "I have a son."
Sydney's grin spread. "I know." He whispered conspiratorially. "I've seen him."
Jarod's lip trembled. "My son." Saying the words aloud for the first time seemed to burst the surreal bubble fogging Jarod's mind. "My son." He breathed again. The reality of it all came crashing in on the pretender. Clutching Sydney in a fierce hug, Jarod wept on his old friend's shoulder.
Unable to define the intense emotions roiling through him, Jarod simply gave in to the need to be comforted. Several long minutes passed while Jarod shuddered quietly in Sydney's reassuring embrace.
Family had always been so important to Jarod. Finding his parents had been like a religious crusade that he had yet to complete. For the pretender, isolated and alone for so long, to become a parent himself was an overwhelming accomplishment.
Sydney could only image what Jarod was feeling at this moment. Sydney's own son had been a grown man when they had first learned of each other's existence. The psychiatrist had been denied the crushing joy of being a new father. But Sydney knew how he felt now. Pride beamed across the older man's face with a glow of satisfaction.
In the year since they had been freed from The Centre, the relationship between Sydney and his protégé had changed. Jarod had slowly learned to relax his guard. The interaction between the two men had gone from mentor and student to familiar camaraderie. Sydney had finally ceased to be Jarod's teacher and keeper. As the months had passed, the two men had truly become friends in every sense of the word.
Sydney knew that he was viewed as the father figure in Jarod's life. But Sydney no longer schemed to encourage that impression. The paternal relationship that was developing now was a natural one, unclouded by the Centre motives and manipulations that had forced Sydney's actions for so long.
Jarod heaved deeply several times, sniffling as he battled to control his turbulent emotions.
Wiping the moisture from his cheeks Jarod murmured, "If Parker catches me bawling like this she'll have my head."
Sydney grinned. "Parker has shed a few tears of her own today, Jarod." He said with a gentle squeeze of the younger man's shoulders. "I think she'll understand."
Leaning comfortably against Sydney's side, Jarod gazed adoringly into the moonlit bedroom. "I still can't believe she did this for me." He whispered in awe.
"Jarod," Sydney chuckled. "Don't fool yourself. She has wanted this child just as much as you have. Her motivations were purely self-gratifying." After a pause Sydney added, "Of course you are now indebted to her for the next few decades." He said with a smile.
Jarod nodded seriously. "She's incredible. How can I ever atone for what she has done today?"
"You be a good husband to her." Sydney said. "And a good father to that little boy."
"I will." Jarod whispered solemnly. "I promise."
"And you buy her fine jewelry every Mother's Day." Sydney smirked.
They laughed quietly together in the dark.
An hour ago, Jarod had felt like he would never sleep again. But with Sydney's presence to help calm him, Jarod now felt the strain of the long day as fatigue crept along his limbs. His eyelids began to drift shut, though he struggled to stay awake.
"Get some sleep, Jarod." Sydney ordered softly.
The pretender sighed. "I should call the others. Tell them about the baby." Jarod murmured.
"Already done." Sydney said. "They will be here in the morning, with cameras at the ready I am sure."
In the past year, their small group had moved apart only slightly. Jarod had taken the money that the Triumvirate had given him in exchange for the pretender's promise to never again interfere in their affairs. He'd given each member of the group an equal share of the sizable payment.
Jarod and Miss Parker had bought this lovely home in the forests of Montana. Sydney and Angelo lived in a separate apartment in another section of the same house. Broots and his daughter, their nearest neighbors, lived less than two miles away. Sam lived in a quaint little house about ten miles away in the tiny burg that was the closest town.
"You rest." Sydney commanded. "It's been a long day."
"Promise that you'll wake me when Broots and Debbie get here?" Jarod yawned.
With a grin Sydney answered, "I won't need to. You've got a seven-pound alarm clock in that bassinet over there. He'll wake you up."
Jarod chuckled. "I guess you're right."
"Rest while you can, Jarod." Sydney advised. "Sleep is going to be an elusive thing for the next month or two."
Picking himself slowly up off of the floor, Jarod said with a grin, "It's a good thing you've taught me to get by without it."
After helping the older man from the hard wood floor, Jarod smiled and hugged Sydney again. "Thank you, Sydney." Jarod whispered. "Thank you for everything."
Patting Jarod affectionately on the back, Sydney urged the pretender toward the cushioned window seat where he could sleep without disturbing Parker. With a tender pat on the younger man's shoulder, Sydney said, "Get some sleep, Son. That's an order."
Sydney left, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him.
Jarod, curled against several soft pillows, watched his wife sleep for a few more minutes. Parker's deep regular breathing soothed what remained of Jarod's concern. Soft sounds floated across the room from the white basket positioned beside the bed. It took Jarod's weary mind a moment to identify the noise. The baby was sucking on his hand while he slept, making the tiny slurping squeaks.
Smiling through the dark, Jarod whispered to his sleeping spouse. "Life doesn't get easier, Parker. It gets better. It just keeps getting better."
Coping with Joy
By Phenyx
Jarod sat on the floor in the dark hallway with his back to the wall. His wrists hung limply over his bent knees as he gazed across the hall into the bedroom. Light from the full moon was shining through the large picture window, illuminating the bed and the figure resting there. Her hair, tangled and shoved haphazardly away from her face, fanned across the pillow like a dark halo shimmering in the moonlight.
Jarod shook his head in wonder. The fact that this incredible woman was his wife was still difficult for Jarod to believe, nearly a year after they had taken their vows.
Of course, the life that he shared with Parker wasn't the perfect picture of harmony that Jarod had envisioned. Parker was a strong-willed and passionate woman. Parker's tenacity combined with Jarod's equally stubborn personality occasionally resulted in a powder keg of emotion. They'd had some incredible fights. On more than one occasion, the two of them had exchanged harsh and bitterly angry words. Parker had once, in a fit of pique, thrown a vase at Jarod's head. But the pretender knew when to duck.
They didn't argue as often as they had in the past. Their marriage had given the relationship a psychological permanence and emotional confidence that had been lacking. They were each less likely to lash out at the other in fits of self-preservation. But when they did disagree, there were always fireworks.
Making up afterwards was equally intense. The passion that Parker displayed in anger was surpassed only by the enthusiasm she showed her husband in bed. She'd never lost a conflict in that department. Parker dominated over Jarod in the bedroom, and he submitted to her gladly.
Now, as Jarod watched his wife sleeping just a few feet away, he realized that there would be no arguments for a long while. Parker had earned the right to win the next few battles. The way Jarod felt at this moment, years could pass before he would be callous enough to oppose his wife's wishes.
Tonight, Parker had surpassed Jarod's most secret desires. Tonight she had given Jarod a son.
The boy had been born just a few hours ago in the same bed in which he'd been conceived. Jarod and Parker, both fearful and suspicious of the safety of their child in a public hospital, had chosen to hire a mid-wife so that their child could be born at home. Parker's uneventful pregnancy and the secluded location of their home made the choice simple.
Jarod sighed and raked one hand through his hair. It had been the longest night of his life. Though Jarod knew that fourteen hours wasn't a particularly long labor, it had seemed interminable.
Parker had endured the long afternoon and evening with a studied calm. She concentrated on her breathing and the relaxation techniques they had been practicing for months. For most of her labor, Parker had inhaled and exhaled serenely. Between contractions she slept. It was only through the increasingly fierce grip Parker had on his hand that Jarod was able to gauge the amount of pain she'd truly been in.
Everything had changed as Parker transitioned from labor toward the delivery. Her body had surged with adrenaline, naturally preparing her with the strength needed to bear her child. It had also caused a wave of mind- numbing panic that left her weeping.
When Parker had clutched at his shirt and whimpered his name, it had nearly been Jarod's undoing. There was nothing he could do but hold on and murmur soothing nonsense into her ear. She had cried out only once. Jarod had been forced to watch helplessly as her single shriek of pain morphed into a groan of effort and Parker began to push.
Jarod continued to offer words of encouragement, though he knew Parker couldn't hear him. Aside from being a firm object to brace against, Parker was oblivious to her husband's presence. Every fiber of her being had focused only on the impulsive need to bear down.
Panting with exhaustion after her second effort, Parker had looked up at Caryn, the mid-wife. The older woman had grinned and said, "Give me your hand, Parker. Your baby is nearly here already."
Jarod had stepped back and watched in dumbfounded wonder as the mid-wife had guided Parker's hand to the tuft of dark hair that was now visible. As another contraction rocked her, Parker groaned with exertion. Her fingertips slid across a damp brow and over a small nose as the head emerged.
While gulping in air between contractions, Parker caressed the baby's cheek with her thumb. The child, not yet free of its mother, instinctively turned its head toward the stimulus. Small rosebud shaped lips formed a little O as they searched blindly for succor. When the tiny mouth found Parker's fingertips, it startled to suckle greedily.
Jarod ceased to breath as the shear awe of the moment overwhelmed him. Parker bubbled with delighted laughter and her eyes shimmered with joy as she looked at her husband. "Just like Daddy." Parker laughed merrily. "Always thinking about his stomach."
A moment later the wet, blood-streaked little boy lay on his mother's abdomen, bawling angrily at the abrupt change in his environment. Parker was laughing and crying simultaneously as she took the infant in her arms and wrapped him in the warm cotton blanket the mid-wife had provided.
Jarod had stared at the pair in stunned disbelief. He'd drifted through the next couple of hours in a daze. The mid-wife had flitted around the room in a flurry of activity, measuring, weighing and cleaning the newborn infant. There had been a dizzying few moments, as the after-birth had been expelled, when Jarod realized how much blood Parker had just lost. The thought that his beloved wife could bleed to death abruptly shot through his mind. A jolt of pure terror at the possibility had left the pretender reeling.
Taking deep relaxing breaths, Jarod forced aside the panic rising in his chest. Clinging desperately to the analytical portion of his mind, Jarod looked at the scene with a more clinical perspective.
Parker, looking a little pale and weary, was otherwise fine. The blood, though unsettling, was a natural part of childbirth, nothing more. Sitting up against several pillows propped against the headboard, Parker was gazing adoringly at the little boy in her arms. She grinned up at Jarod in delight as the babe found her breast and quickly learned how to nurse.
Jarod wasn't sure how long he stood there. He was vaguely conscious of the fact that he should do something, anything. But his brain seemed to have stopped functioning. He stood rooted to the spot like a big grinning idiot. He was aware that Caryn had spoken to him more than once and he had replied. But thinking back on it now, Jarod couldn't recall a single word the woman had said to him.
When Parker had held her hand out to Jarod, beckoning him to her side, he had perched on the edge of the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. There Jarod had stayed until the mid-wife had finally shooed him from the room so that Parker could sleep.
Jarod had only gone as far as the hallway, propping himself in a position that allowed him to easily see the sleeping occupants of the bedroom.
Sydney came down the dark hall and quietly settled on the floor beside the tired pretender.
"I took Caryn home." The older man said.
Jarod grunted softly in response.
"She'll come by late tomorrow afternoon to check on things." Sydney went on. "But she wanted you to feel free to call her before then if anything comes up."
Jarod nodded.
Sydney smiled sympathetically at the younger man. With a tilt of the head the psychiatrist asked, "How are you holding up, Jarod?"
With a shrug of his shoulders, Jarod heaved a deep sigh.
"Feeling a little overwhelmed?" Sydney pressed intuitively.
With a stuttering burst of laughter, Jarod nodded again. "I can't." Jarod gasped. "I just." He swallowed hard and shook his head, unable to trust voice.
Sydney put an arm around Jarod's shoulders and smiled encouragingly at him. "Its okay, Jarod. You are entitled to feel that way."
Watery brown eyes gazed up at the older man. "Sydney," Jarod whispered. "I have a son."
Sydney's grin spread. "I know." He whispered conspiratorially. "I've seen him."
Jarod's lip trembled. "My son." Saying the words aloud for the first time seemed to burst the surreal bubble fogging Jarod's mind. "My son." He breathed again. The reality of it all came crashing in on the pretender. Clutching Sydney in a fierce hug, Jarod wept on his old friend's shoulder.
Unable to define the intense emotions roiling through him, Jarod simply gave in to the need to be comforted. Several long minutes passed while Jarod shuddered quietly in Sydney's reassuring embrace.
Family had always been so important to Jarod. Finding his parents had been like a religious crusade that he had yet to complete. For the pretender, isolated and alone for so long, to become a parent himself was an overwhelming accomplishment.
Sydney could only image what Jarod was feeling at this moment. Sydney's own son had been a grown man when they had first learned of each other's existence. The psychiatrist had been denied the crushing joy of being a new father. But Sydney knew how he felt now. Pride beamed across the older man's face with a glow of satisfaction.
In the year since they had been freed from The Centre, the relationship between Sydney and his protégé had changed. Jarod had slowly learned to relax his guard. The interaction between the two men had gone from mentor and student to familiar camaraderie. Sydney had finally ceased to be Jarod's teacher and keeper. As the months had passed, the two men had truly become friends in every sense of the word.
Sydney knew that he was viewed as the father figure in Jarod's life. But Sydney no longer schemed to encourage that impression. The paternal relationship that was developing now was a natural one, unclouded by the Centre motives and manipulations that had forced Sydney's actions for so long.
Jarod heaved deeply several times, sniffling as he battled to control his turbulent emotions.
Wiping the moisture from his cheeks Jarod murmured, "If Parker catches me bawling like this she'll have my head."
Sydney grinned. "Parker has shed a few tears of her own today, Jarod." He said with a gentle squeeze of the younger man's shoulders. "I think she'll understand."
Leaning comfortably against Sydney's side, Jarod gazed adoringly into the moonlit bedroom. "I still can't believe she did this for me." He whispered in awe.
"Jarod," Sydney chuckled. "Don't fool yourself. She has wanted this child just as much as you have. Her motivations were purely self-gratifying." After a pause Sydney added, "Of course you are now indebted to her for the next few decades." He said with a smile.
Jarod nodded seriously. "She's incredible. How can I ever atone for what she has done today?"
"You be a good husband to her." Sydney said. "And a good father to that little boy."
"I will." Jarod whispered solemnly. "I promise."
"And you buy her fine jewelry every Mother's Day." Sydney smirked.
They laughed quietly together in the dark.
An hour ago, Jarod had felt like he would never sleep again. But with Sydney's presence to help calm him, Jarod now felt the strain of the long day as fatigue crept along his limbs. His eyelids began to drift shut, though he struggled to stay awake.
"Get some sleep, Jarod." Sydney ordered softly.
The pretender sighed. "I should call the others. Tell them about the baby." Jarod murmured.
"Already done." Sydney said. "They will be here in the morning, with cameras at the ready I am sure."
In the past year, their small group had moved apart only slightly. Jarod had taken the money that the Triumvirate had given him in exchange for the pretender's promise to never again interfere in their affairs. He'd given each member of the group an equal share of the sizable payment.
Jarod and Miss Parker had bought this lovely home in the forests of Montana. Sydney and Angelo lived in a separate apartment in another section of the same house. Broots and his daughter, their nearest neighbors, lived less than two miles away. Sam lived in a quaint little house about ten miles away in the tiny burg that was the closest town.
"You rest." Sydney commanded. "It's been a long day."
"Promise that you'll wake me when Broots and Debbie get here?" Jarod yawned.
With a grin Sydney answered, "I won't need to. You've got a seven-pound alarm clock in that bassinet over there. He'll wake you up."
Jarod chuckled. "I guess you're right."
"Rest while you can, Jarod." Sydney advised. "Sleep is going to be an elusive thing for the next month or two."
Picking himself slowly up off of the floor, Jarod said with a grin, "It's a good thing you've taught me to get by without it."
After helping the older man from the hard wood floor, Jarod smiled and hugged Sydney again. "Thank you, Sydney." Jarod whispered. "Thank you for everything."
Patting Jarod affectionately on the back, Sydney urged the pretender toward the cushioned window seat where he could sleep without disturbing Parker. With a tender pat on the younger man's shoulder, Sydney said, "Get some sleep, Son. That's an order."
Sydney left, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him.
Jarod, curled against several soft pillows, watched his wife sleep for a few more minutes. Parker's deep regular breathing soothed what remained of Jarod's concern. Soft sounds floated across the room from the white basket positioned beside the bed. It took Jarod's weary mind a moment to identify the noise. The baby was sucking on his hand while he slept, making the tiny slurping squeaks.
Smiling through the dark, Jarod whispered to his sleeping spouse. "Life doesn't get easier, Parker. It gets better. It just keeps getting better."
