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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
The Gift
part XIII
N.R. Levy & Trisha
The night they escaped the Centre, Sydney felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders. Free...to tell the whole story, to accept the repercussions of what would come from that truth.
Jarod slept. It was a long sleep, and deep, like a tree sleeping during the winter waiting for the spring thaw. Then he woke. A sense of darkness claimed him, no longer filled with a sense of magic that filled him. It was always that magic that let him disappear whenever he chose. To become invisible. He lived inside his soul. He gave so much of himself, an honest, kind, and generous as well as openhearted person able to fight back from anything. Until now.
Miss Parker had been his magic, and he lost it the night that he saw the car. Dead. Both gone. Another tragic result of being associated with the Centre. He felt himself falling, weightless. Dreaming. She had never known that he loved her. He needed his soul back, but how. How does one reclaim the dead?
While Jarod slept, Syndey looked around outside of the hotel window. The fog was almost gone, it was cold, and the sky was heavy with snow. The clouds hung low with a noise that reverberated from them as from a concrete wall.
Jarod was wild eyed and unsure of his surroundings. His eyes very bright from the low-grade fever, his cheeks flushed and his mouth dry and his limbs ached. His face was level with Angelo's when his eyes started to focus. Startling him.
"Friend awake," he said his voice low and clear.
"So, this is what it's like to be alive, when those you love have died," he whispered.
"Jarod," Sydney sat on the bed and looked at the worn face, "Go back to sleep, you need to rest. I'll have you home, soon."
"Home?" his voice was sorrowful and it cracked," There is no such place without her and Ryan. . ."
He laid his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Images of Parker filling his mind, his hand reached for his shirt pocket and lingered there when he felt the folded piece of paper within. Still there, he thought, the only picture of her and their son.
"Heart broken," Angelo whispered, "No grieve."
The clock in its polished oak case ticked, steadily on the nightstand. It was getting colder outside, the ice formed on the windows, yet it was growing light out, signaling it was time to leave. Time to head home. They had hidden long enough.
In the predawn light, Sydney gathered his passengers and took the Three Mills road to go home. To his daughter. His grandson. To Freedom.
The weather seemed calm, a few dry flakes fell, but in less than a half hour it was falling fast and furious.
After that, the wind came.
It lashed the car and any soul that braved it was left floundering, numb, and blind.
After the wind, the drifts.
After the drifts, the dark.
For Jarod, the weather was like his mood. Dark and angry.
*****
The car turned right and began to twist and turn, carefully down the snow-covered road. Debbie read the directions that her father had written down, making sure that they didn't miss the turn-off near the wooden post. The sun had set but with the cloudy sky cover it didn't matter, the day had been dismal. Broots had tried to contact Sydney or Angelo and received no answer from either of them. In fact the Centre's mainframe was down, Broots hoped it was due to the inclement weather and nothing else. The wind was beginning to pick up speed and whip the snow around again, causing whiteouts in spots. And even though they had detoured to do some quick gift shopping, they had made good time reaching the cabin.
"Dad, there's the wooden post. It's almost covered in snow, but it looks like someone came and cleared around it," Debbie pointed out the front window.
"Thank goodness, I'm exhausted and hungry."
"You're always hungry, Dad," his daughter laughed," I can't wait to see Miss Parker."
She hesitated slightly, and then looked at her father, knowing that she was going to meet a little boy that was Miss Parker's son as well as a eighteen-year-old young man. The truth of the matter is that she was nervous to meet Jake, after her father explained who and what he was, she was so afraid that she'd embarrass herself.
The lights were blazing from the living room windows, smoke curled from the chimneystack, lazily making circles in the gray-blue night. This was no ordinary cabin, it was beautiful. In fact, Broots was positive that he saw a painting of this house in Miss Parker's studio. Pulling the car in to the circular drive, Broots cut the engine and he and Deb made their way to the front door. Knocking somewhat timidly, Deb grabbed the knocker and banged it against the metal clapper. Opening the door, was a young man, with close-cropped hair, dark chocolate eyes, a small mole young his right eye, and a killer smile, standing next to him was a small boy.
"It's Mis'er Broots and a girl, Mommy," he yelled, pulling Debbie by the hand into the house. Broots entered the house, and stood nervously in the hallway, not quite sure of what to do or say.
"I need unload the car," he stammered.
"I'll help," Jake offered and grabbed his coat off the rack next to the door, slipping his feet into his snow boots.
Snow was swirling about them, and there were snowflakes on their hats and even clinging to Jake's eyelashes. And how dark it was, the stars looked as if they were falling too, all mixed up with the twirling of the snowflakes. Broots looked at the young man who he’d last seen four years ago as he peaked out of the plane that he and Major Charles had escaped in. He was definitely no longer a boy...and in many ways, no longer a "clone" of Jarod. He had turned into his own man, that was clear from his style of dress. A little funkier than the original model, Broots noted.
As Jake and Broots unloaded the car, Debbie shared a heartfelt reunion with the woman she regarded more as a mother than she did her own. Miss Parker was helping her grow up, doing all of the things that her mom should have been doing, and she’d been terrified that she might lose that when her father had first tried to explain things to her. When she saw Miss Parker’s face light up as she entered the room, her fear vanished.
"Miss P, I was so worried about you." Miss Parker was lying on the couch, her body wrapped in a warm blanket, so Debbie crouched down beside her to receive her embrace. After a moment, they both pulled back to survey each other.
"I’m okay, sweetheart. How are you? This must all seem pretty scary to you, hmm?"
Debbie let her eyes fall down to the floor for a moment, then back up at Miss Parker. It was all a little scary – her friend had almost died, her father was running for his life, and what they’d done to make Ryan...She nodded silently and Miss Parker soon had Debbie curled into her reassuring arms again.
"I know. I wish we could have always protected you from this, but you’re dad loves you, and as long as you have him, the rest will all work itself out, okay?"
Parker felt Debbie nod against her, and a she remembered again how important this "little girl" was to her. Hardly little anymore, she’d be a grown woman soon, but for now, she was still Broots’ to protect, and hers to spoil.
That was when Debbie remembered the bundle tucked under her arm. It had practically fallen on the floor and she scooped it up and stood. She unfolded it and placed it over the blanket that already covered Miss Parker.
"Isn’t this the quilt from my studio?"
Debbie nodded and sat down on the couch again.
"Yeah. Daddy went to your house and got some of your stuff he knew you’d want. We brought some and Dr. Greene has the rest."
Just then Broots and Jake walked in with the first load of boxes and bags and Ryan, who had been running around finding all of his family and alerting them to the new arrivals flew into the room just in time to see Broots sit down the white and gold angel box he had seen in his mommy’s office a few days earlier.
"You brought Morgana. Can I take care of her, Mommy? Can I?" He had the box in his hands and was already climbing up onto the couch with her before Miss Parker could even react. Debbie smiled at the little boy taking a good look at him. He was so clearly Miss Parker’s son, yet he was all little boy...curious and adorable.
"Yes, baby, you can, but first I want you to come meet a friend of mine. Ryan, this is Debbie, Broots’ daughter, and a very special friend of mine."
"Will you be my friend, too? I like having friends."
Debbie laughed out loud at the happy little boy, and for a moment, the spirit of the house was lifted by the pure joy of children being children. Sadly, after the unloading was finished, and a proper place was found for Bunny, who completely fascinated Ryan, it was time for a very worried Broots, Miss Parker and Charles to talk about the Centre.
"You mean you can’t get through either?" Broots looked at them totally worried. What the hell was going on back there and where were Sydney and Jarod?
"No." Charles shook his head, trying to keep all of the fear he felt out of his voice. "We haven’t heard anything since Sydney told us he would get Jarod out."
"Well, I’ve got my computer set up and it’s checking for anything Syd might have hidden in the mainframe. Problem is, the thing is a mess. Someone must have really shot the system to hell."
"Let’s just hope it was Syd and that he got Jarod out of there."
Miss Parker’s voice sounded so weary to Broots, the way he’d remembered her sounding after Thomas’ murder. He hated hearing it, but knew that for now, there was little he could do to fix it. Just then, Ryan bounded back into the room, Jake and Debbie, who had taken an instant liking to each other, following close behind.
"Mommy, I was looking at the book some more and we need a Christmas tree? Don’t you think we need a Christmas tree, Grandpa?"
Parker and Charles exchanged glances as they considered theirresponses. Certainly none of the adults in the house were in the mood to deal with Christmas, not with Jarod still missing, but Ryan was just a baby and now that they’d excited him about the holiday, there wasn’t much else they could do but put on happy smiles and charge ahead.
Charles stood and picked his grandson up in his arms, a quick tickle making him laugh.
"If it’s a Christmas tree you want, young man, then that’s what you’ll have."
*****
Chaos reigned at the Centre. In the aftermath of the horrible explosion which had killed two sweepers, destroyed Jarod’s body and left the not so impenetrable building barely functional, few details were making sense. Angelo was also missing and presumed dead. No one seemed to know how Mr. Raines’ cell phone and pager had stopped functioning. One thing Mr. Parker was certain of was that there was going to be hell to pay when Mutumbo found out that they had not only lost Angel and the boy, but now Jarod as well.
The thought of facing down the angry African sent chills down the old man’s spine. So many failures – Angel, the boy, though those were credited to Lyle, Jarod’s two escapes and now his death – Mutumbo would have a great deal to charge him with...and now he had to plan his defense. If it was convenient, he would save Raines as well. The man had his uses.
For no particular reason, he found himself wandering through the maze of workers who were trying to fix the damage done by the explosion. That would be easy enough to deal with...no matter what the real cause, he would blame it on Sydney. After all, the sentimental shrink had tried to blow the place up once before, hadn’t he? No difficulty in pushing the blame for this disaster on him.
Finally, Mr. Parker stopped in front of a glass window in Renewal Wing, and let his eyes fall on the figure inside. A shell – hardly anything left of the man he used to be, that was the only way to describe his son now. Not that he didn’t deserve it, hadn’t tried to kill him on more than one occasion, and what he’d allowed to happen to Angel...
His mind locked onto the plan that was forming there. Brigitte had been in full control of Lyle since Mutumbo had handed down the order for re-education, giving her full access to the Centre. A sweeper had already confessed to him that before his death, Bart had discovered that Brigitte had drugged Jarod...possibly leading to his attempted escape and his eventual death?
Mr. Parker stood a little straighter and smiled. There were scapegoats to be had, and he would hand each and every one of them over to Mutumbo if that’s what it took to save himself. It wasn’t as if the empire was permanently damaged. They had another clone in development, and there was always the girl child Brigitte had given birth to. True, she was no Jarod, no Angel for that matter, but he could build a new dynasty with out his treacherous wife around to endanger them. As for Lyle, the son he had barely known and never loved was no longer a danger to anyone, except maybe himself.
Some part of Lyle’s twisted mind, which now seemed trapped between a horrible beating at Lyle Bowman’s hands and the imagined, agonizing screams of his sister and her son going to their watery graves, Lyle knew someone was watching him. He turned his eyes and stared toward the glass. A face was there, but he no longer recognized the face. He was disappearing...sinking into a black hole...He wasn’t even sure what his name was anymore. He just wanted the screams to stop, his, hers, and that sweet-faced little boy who looked at him with questioning brown eyes and said one word over and over "Why?"
The face in the window left, and the man in the room curled into a tighter ball and began to disappear even deeper into the void that was now his home.
*****
He was bundled up in the snowsuit that Mr. Broots and his daughter, Debbie, had brought for him, his hands covered with warm mittens and snuggly warm boots on his feet. Much better then the first time he had decided to investigate the snow. He sat covered with a fleece blanket on the sled, when he decided to stick out his tongue and catch a plump white snowflake on its tip.
Up a hill they went, toward the big round moon. Ryan could hear the crunch of snow under the others boots. Up and over snowdrifts, they pulled him, wind whistling, nipping his nose, that he pulled the scarf up over his nose.
"There it is, Dad," Jake said, lifting it so that Ryan and Debbie could see the fir tree, which lay on its side almost buried in the snow.
"Broots and I cut it earlier," Jake said proudly.
"It's the biggest tree in the world," Ryan breathed," Will it fit in the house?"
"We'll make it fit," the major said, as he took the tree from Jake, shook some of the snow from its branches and hoisted it up onto the back of the other sled, then secured it with ropes.
As they pulled the tree through the frosted air, over moon-sparkled drifts, the heady pine smell reminded them that Christmas was fast approaching. Christmas Eve was five days away.
The tree was dragged into the house at last, along with a good deal of snow, which Margaret did her very best to seem stern about. Rather unsuccessfully too, for she was as excited as any of them.
They stood the tree up in front of the window, it fit exactly, its tip just brushing the ceiling of the room.
"Wow," said Emily.
"Mommy, do you like the tree?" cried Ryan as he rushed toward the sofa that she sat upon. She was so glad they had finally allowed downstairs, her place having been strictly in bed since they arrived.
"Baby, that's the biggest tree, I've ever seen," she smiled as she gathered him in her arms and kissed him.
There were strings of popcorn and cranberries which Miss Parker, Debbie and Emily made with Ryan's help, although he ate more popcorn that he strung. Margaret unpacked the cotton-whiskered Santas, the beautiful shining balls of red, gold, and green glass. Jake found the swans and birds with feathered tails, along with the angel-hair and tinsel, and red candles in silver holders. They all kept the mood as light as they could for the sake of the little boy who was just learning about the magic of this holiday.
The last thing to be placed on the tree was the Christmas Angel, however, that was always Jarod's responsibility, no one wanted to place her on the tip of the tree. Parker could see Ryan eying the beautiful decoration, though, and she knew she had to say something to him. Margaret had told her earlier about making the angel, and about the joy it had brought Jarod their first Christmas together, and now she could see her own son’s eyes reflecting that same happiness.
"Ryan, baby, the angel there is the decoration your Daddy always puts on the tree. Do you mind if we wait until he gets here for that?"
"You mean, my daddy’s tall enough to put that on the very top of the tree? I’ve just been standing there wondering how tall you would have to be to do that?"
His sweet and innocent answer sent the room into a fit of laughter, and as they began to clean up from their decorating, they all felt a little more hopeful that Christmas might bring something to celebrate after all.
Hours later, Miss Parker lay in bed, her arms wrapped around the son who had so quickly taken full possession of her heart. Looking at him, she marveled again at how little she had ever meant to her own father...never could she imagine harming this little innocent boy the way her father had her. She would not steal his life away, nor let anyone else do it, ever. She made the silent pledge as she kissed his head and closed her eyes, one last wish for the holidays in her heart.
"Please, please let Jarod make it home. His son needs him...I need him."
****
The house was dark and silent when they arrived. Jarod had been awakefor nearly an hour but he had not spoken to either of his fellow travelers since opening his eyes. He couldn’t speak – if he did, he was terrified the pain inside of him would explode. It was only because he knew he had to utter a few words that he pushed a few tight lipped utterances out as they reached the door of the place that had once held such joy for him...now it was as cold as his heart.
"Syd, I don’t want to face them all, not yet. Just get some sleep and we’ll deal with it all in the morning."
Sydney did not argue. Clearly, Jarod was still not ready to hear the truth. Morning would be soon enough, and he would have the real live pieces of evidence to back up his story.
After directing Syndey and Angelo to the bedroom, off to the left of the dining room, Jarod returned to the living room. Throwing another log on the fire, he curled up on the sofa, grabbing the quilt that lay draped across the arm, unaware of whose quilt he had wrapped his body in.
In his sleep, his mind filled with a dream that could never be – a Christmas tree surrounded by gifts, his son held high in his arms as he lifted him up and let him place the angel on top of the tree. And Parker...she was there, laughing, and her eyes were so happy and alive...alive.
It was still dark when he woke and he was unsure how long he slept. It seemed like that was all he had been doing since they left the Centre. His means of escaping reality. Ryan was sitting on the other end of the sofa, by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, rocking back and forth, his tiny feet banging against Jarod's. That is what had awakened him, it wasn't something Ryan had meant to do. Jarod looked at the small figure and was speechless.
"Are you a ghost, come to haunt me on Christmas?" he whispered.
"No!" the little boy smiled.
"Ryan!"
"Did Santa bring you in his sleigh, Daddy?" with that said, Jarod sat upright, reaching across the sofa, and like lightening he slipped his hands in side the blanket that was wrapped around Ryan.
Solid.
"My god, you're real. Alive. Here! How?" he pulled the little boy to him, revealing in the small arms that wrapped around his neck.
"Daddy, did you have a bad dream or something? You were calling me and you were calling Mommy."
Jarod squeezed the little bundle in his arms, trying to be careful not to hurt him. How? How was it possible? He’d seen the car, the blood. Carefully, he pushed his son back away from him and looked at him. His eyes danced in the soft moonlight that lit the room, and his smile was unmistakably that of his mother. He was real.
"Daddy, did you?"
"Did I what, Ryan?"
"Have a bad dream?"
Jarod pulled the little boy back into his arms and hugged him again, his heart coming to life again as he did so.
"Yes, I did. The very worst dream I’ve ever had." Suddenly, something dawned on Jarod, and he sat Ryan on his knee as he looked at him. "Ryan, you know who I am?"
"’Course I do. Mommy and grandma and grandpa and aunt Emily and Uncle Jake, they told me all ‘bout you. And look, we saved the angel for you...Grandma says that’s always your favorite part."
Jarod looked to where Ryan’s little baby finger pointed and sure enough, there was the angel his mother had made their first Christmas together. Then Jarod remembered his dream, and suddenly, he realized that it could come true after all. He stood up, holding his son in his arms as he crossed to pick up the angel, then he handed it to Ryan.
"How about we both do it?"
Ryan squealed with delight as his father lifted him high in the air and his little arms stretched out to get the placement just right. When he was satisfied, he smiled down at his father, and Jarod pulled him down, holding him tight again. They would have stayed like that forever had they both not heard the small gasp that came from the stairs.
Jarod turned and his eyes fell on Parker. She looked tired and thin and there were tears in her eyes – and to him, she had never been more beautiful.
Parker felt frozen to the spot where she stood. She’d woke and found Ryan gone and worried, had come to look for him. The effort had nearly killed her, her side throbbing, but she had to find her boy. Then she’d taken the last step from the staircase and seen...oh, God was it really him? Jarod.
It was Ryan who broke the silence. He squirmed out of his father’s arms and ran to his mother.
"See, Mommy, I told you. Daddy made it home in plenty of time for Christmas."
Parker nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened. Quickly, she leaned down and made herself eye level with her son.
"Yes, you did, baby. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go in the kitchen and see if there are any cookies left for Daddy?"
"Okay." Ryan skipped happily out of the room, and Parker stood straight, her eyes locking with Jarod’s. Now he was crying, and her own tears began to stream down her face. Her voice cracked with the emotions that were coursing through her body.
"What the hell were you thinking? Walking in the front door and turning yourself in? I thought...God, Jarod, I thought we’d lost you."
"You thought YOU had lost ME?"
Jarod moved quickly, his heart reminding him of all the things he had said he would do if Parker were still alive. Before she could think to move, he had her in his arms, and his lips found hers. To both his surprise and delight, she did not pull away and instead melted into his arms.
The kiss left them both shell-shocked. Jarod could see that the combination of all the emotional upheaval was beginning to take its toll on her and he directed Parker to the couch where he had been sleeping earlier. It was while they were settling down that his eyes finally focused on the quilt he’d covered himself with earlier...her quilt, the one he’d bought her.
"You brought it?"
"Broots did. It’s a long story. Jarod, I’m so sorry. We never meant for you to think..." He pulled her into his arms again, feeling the small sobs that were coming from her body.
"Shush. It was brilliant. They’ll never look for you now. I convinced them that you were dead...believe me, I convinced them."
"I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. There’s just been so much and it all happened so fast..."
"I know, Parker. I know. I’m here now. Oh, God, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, I promise."
The two were still sitting together when Ryan peeked around the corner. He knew from watching his grandparents that this was what parents were supposed to do, hug and kiss each other, so he figured everything was okay. He decided to sneak upstairs and give the grown ups a little time to themselves.
After Parker’s tears finally stopped and after Jarod regained the power of coherent thought, they sat apart from each other, each with a thousand questions they wanted to ask. It was Jarod who spoke first.
"Parker, how did you get here? Did Dad find you?"
"No, I found him."
"But how? I kept this place so hidden." He saw her eyes sweep downward, and his hand reached out and lifted her chin, bringing the brilliant blue orbs back even with his own.
"How?"
"I used to own it."
"What?"
"Momma and I, we used to come here during the holidays. Daddy...well, he wasn’t really into Christmas, so we would come here and celebrate for days and then Daddy would come on Christmas Eve. After she died, we never came again..."
"But how could you have known I bought it?"
"I made it too attractive for you not to buy it." She watched his eyes widen with surprise and finally, with realization.
"You’ve known all along?"
"When Sydney told me you’d found your family, I – Jarod, it was all I could do. Two weeks of peace and quiet a year, it was the only gift I had to give you. You’d given me so much...I just wanted to do something...to say thank you."
"Something...Parker, you gave me my life..." He pulled her into his arms again, and remembering another of those promises he’d made to himself, he stood and walked to the tree, knowing that his mother would have placed the ornament for him. After a lengthy search, he found what he was looking for and he returned to the couch.
"I kept this with me all this time because I – Parker, I kept it because it was the only part of you I could keep."
Parker looked down at his hands and her eyes focused on the red stained-glass heart that sat in his hands. Her mind was about to question the why of it when she remembered...the stain-glassed portrait of her...it had been missing it’s heart...and Jarod had kept it with him, safe and protected all this time.
She took hold of his hands with hers, covering the heart, she watched him drop to his knees, then bending his head over her hands, he brings them to his lips, kissing them.
"Put your arms around me," she whispered to him," Hold me. I need to feel your arms around me." They clung to each other for a long time before anyone spoke again.
"Parker, I want you to listen to me. I know we have a lot to sort through. I know we can’t pretend the last seven years didn’t happen, but we’re going to get through it. After these last few days, I know that I won’t let us not get through it. I need you too much. Believe me?"
Parker nodded against him and tightened the grip her arms held him in. She could do this – would do this. She would do it for her son because he needed a family, and for Jarod because he was asking, and for herself because...because...
‘It’s what you’ve always wanted, Parker.’ She heard her own voice in her head and it was soft and gentle, scolding her a bit like she remembered her mother doing when she was young. Yes, it was what she’d always wanted, and now, miraculously, it was possible.
*****
Sydney stood in the dark hallway watching the two of them. Sydney had this feeling of mental angst when matters turned to Parker. Parker, who had the look of a carefully sculpted china doll, so fragile that even a harsh word would shatter her, yet Sydney realized that she was tougher than she looked.
He wanted to walk over to her, hold her tightly, tell her everything that he was feeling, explain how much he loved her and why he never revealed the truth. He also felt completely inadequate to the task.
Tomorrow. There would be time tomorrow.
*****
Margaret stood and stretched, pulling on her bathrobe. She walked downstairs to start the coffee hopeful that today would be the day that brought news of her oldest son. He had so much to live for now. He had to find a way home.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and small gasp escaped her mouth before she could stifle it with her hand. The noise brought Ryan’s tiny head up from where it rested against his mother’s chest. He smiled over at his grandmother, then lay back down again, securely held in his mother’s arms...and she was held in his father’s.
Margaret looked at the scene, father, mother and child sleeping together, and tears poured from her eyes. Jarod was home, reunited with the two people he’d almost thrown his whole life away for, and Christmas, it seemed, had brought them a miracle after all.
Quickly, Margaret climbed the stairs, anxious to let the rest of the family know what had happened. Minutes after she left, Jarod’s tired eyes blinked open, and he looked down at his arms to see Ryan staring up at him.
"Morning Daddy."
Jarod raised a finger and indicated to Ryan they should whisper so as not to wake Parker. Ryan smiled and then in a loud whisper only children can really manage, he spoke again.
"Mommy’s really beautiful, isn’t she?"
"Yes," Jarod replied, a smile spreading over his face as one finger began to gently stroke Parker’s cheek, "yes, she is."
Parker stirred then, opening her eyes and finding Ryan in front of her, which meant the incredible warmth and security she felt behind her came from only one person. It had not been a dream. He was home, and they were together again.
Soon, the room filled with more Russells who had awakened to the good news of Jarod’s return, and then Debbie and Broots came down and finally Sydney and Angelo joined them. Hugs and expressions of love were the order of the day, and it was only the rumbling of their stomachs that broke up the happy scene. Margaret went off to start breakfast, and Jarod, who had noticed Parker wincing a bit, insisted on taking her upstairs to look at her wound.
His father had done a good job considering how little he’d had to work with. She would heal fine, though she’d hate the scar it left behind. Armed with a fresh dressing, she insisted on getting cleaned up and in some clean clothes. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, her face flushed from the hot water, she found herself facing someone she hadn’t expected.
"Syd, you startled me. We haven’t had much chance to talk yet, have we?" She crossed over and embraced him, grateful for all he had done to bring Jarod home to them. When she stood back, she could see the dark clouds in his eyes, and for some reason she couldn’t explain, they frightened her.
"Syd, what is it?"
Jarod walked past the bedroom door, but, hearing Sydney’s voice in the room with Parker’s he left them alone. He would come back in a minute and check on her.
Jarod took one look at Parker and knew something was wrong. He had left her alone with Syd, and now she was very quiet. It was this silence that caught Jarod's attention.
"What's wrong?" he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, taking hold her hands in his.
"Nothing," the response was so Parker that he smiled, slightly.
"What did Sydney have to say to you?"
She looked at him, then away, her eyes threatening to overflow with the tears that she tried to will away.
"Don't withdraw on me, Parker!"
"I don't withdraw," she got up from the bed, looked out the window to the three figures that were under the window.
"Where are you going?"
"To check our son."
"We're in the middle of a discussion, Parker."
"No, we're not. You're in the middle of treating me as if I'm a child, telling me that I'm withdrawing. Me, I'm just going to check on our son."
"He's playing in the snow with Jake and Emily. And yes, you're withdrawing. Damn it, Morgana!"
She whipped her head around, staring opened mouthed, totally stunned that he had used her first name. He was standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, brown eyes boring into blue ones.
"The truth is, I. . .he. . . you see."
"Morgana," he reached up and cupped her face in his hands, "What did we talk about last night? No more secrets."
"He's my father," she whispered, her resolve finally crumbling, the tears streamed down her face, as she leaned against his chest. He led her to the bed, and she curled up against him, his hand stroking her hair as she cried. He would wait until she was ready to talk.
"How could he do it, Jarod? How could he just stand by and not tell me?"
"I’m sure he had his reasons, Parker." Jarod knew instantly he had given the wrong response. It had been an honest one, but it was not what she wanted to hear. She pushed away from him, sitting up.
"You think there were ANY reasons good enough? He sat there and watched me fighting a losing battle, Jarod, and he did nothing."
"He loves you, Parker. Imperfectly, and not the way you needed to be loved, but he does love you. So did your fath—so did Mr. Parker, they just weren’t good at dealing with it."
"Well, why the hell not? Why is it that no one ever seems to know how to deal with loving me?" She was crying again, and Jarod knew that the last statement was directed just a little bit at him. Sighing, he stood and walked around to where she was sitting, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her even with him.
"Because we’re all flawed, silly men who don’t know how to do the easiest thing in the world, and that’s tell you that we love you."
She sank deeper into his embrace, and her tears flowed again, but this time not from anger.
"You do?" Her voice was small and hesitant, and Jarod hoped it was the last time ever he would hear that tone in her voice.
"More than my life, Parker. Always have, always will."
The words said, they both felt a new freedom and they held tight to each other. Still, Parker’s heart was heavy, and she knew there was still more she needed to tell the man who held her. Her tears gone, shelooked up into his dark eyes, a slight smile on her face.
"I love you, you know that, don't you?" she whispered, he nodded his head, uncertain were this conversation was going, "So much so that I would risk everything to. . .to see you have all the things you’ve ever wanted."
"Parker," his eyes filled with worry, an ominous feeling entered his heart, "You weren’t just crying because of finding out about Syd being your father were you?"
Looking into his eyes, she removed herself from his embrace and walked over to the desk, picking up the file that Sydney had given her. Hesitating for only a moment she placed the file in his outstretched hand. Walking over to the window, she looked down at the three figures, the two older ones were showing Ryan how to make snow angels. Placing her hand upon the windowpane, she released the breath she had been holding, anticipating the explosion from Jarod. An explosion that never came, instead she felt his arms wrap around her, his chin nestling in the crook of her neck, his sweet warm breath next to her ear.
"Not your life, Parker. I can’t let you risk that again. I need you too much, and so does Ryan."
"But if I want to..."
"Parker, how can you ask me to do that?" She turned in his arms, and he felt his heart tighten at the depth of the mixture of pain and love he saw in her eyes.
"Jarod, they stole it from me. I know we have Ryan, and I love him with all my heart, but I used to dream about having a child of my own...that is when I used to dream. I pushed that dream away forever after Tommy died, but now, how can I? I want to know what it’s like to carry our child, your child, and I know you want more children..."
"What if we lose you? You read the file, Parker. Your risk of serious complications is more than 60%. You could go into premature labor, the scar tissue could tear and cause hemorrhaging...I hate what they did to you. I wish I could...Parker, please, I don’t know if I can stand by and let you take a chance like that."
Parker lifted her hand and placed it against his cheek. Of course she understood, but it didn’t change how she felt in her heart. She needed to do this, in fact, she needed to so badly it frightened her. Something inside of her had been awakened by Ryan’s appearance in her life, maybe that little sliver of her mother Jarod had always tried to keep alive, and she couldn’t ignore it, not even for him.
"We’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now we need to go spend the holidays with our son."
Jarod nodded, knowing the fight was far from over, but for now Parker was right, there was no reason to let it spoil these first few precious days together. The Centre was behind them, the powers that be convinced the three of them were dead. Someone, some angel watching over them had given them the most miraculous gift in the world...each other, and it was time for his little family of three to begin their life together
part XIII
N.R. Levy & Trisha
The night they escaped the Centre, Sydney felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders. Free...to tell the whole story, to accept the repercussions of what would come from that truth.
Jarod slept. It was a long sleep, and deep, like a tree sleeping during the winter waiting for the spring thaw. Then he woke. A sense of darkness claimed him, no longer filled with a sense of magic that filled him. It was always that magic that let him disappear whenever he chose. To become invisible. He lived inside his soul. He gave so much of himself, an honest, kind, and generous as well as openhearted person able to fight back from anything. Until now.
Miss Parker had been his magic, and he lost it the night that he saw the car. Dead. Both gone. Another tragic result of being associated with the Centre. He felt himself falling, weightless. Dreaming. She had never known that he loved her. He needed his soul back, but how. How does one reclaim the dead?
While Jarod slept, Syndey looked around outside of the hotel window. The fog was almost gone, it was cold, and the sky was heavy with snow. The clouds hung low with a noise that reverberated from them as from a concrete wall.
Jarod was wild eyed and unsure of his surroundings. His eyes very bright from the low-grade fever, his cheeks flushed and his mouth dry and his limbs ached. His face was level with Angelo's when his eyes started to focus. Startling him.
"Friend awake," he said his voice low and clear.
"So, this is what it's like to be alive, when those you love have died," he whispered.
"Jarod," Sydney sat on the bed and looked at the worn face, "Go back to sleep, you need to rest. I'll have you home, soon."
"Home?" his voice was sorrowful and it cracked," There is no such place without her and Ryan. . ."
He laid his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Images of Parker filling his mind, his hand reached for his shirt pocket and lingered there when he felt the folded piece of paper within. Still there, he thought, the only picture of her and their son.
"Heart broken," Angelo whispered, "No grieve."
The clock in its polished oak case ticked, steadily on the nightstand. It was getting colder outside, the ice formed on the windows, yet it was growing light out, signaling it was time to leave. Time to head home. They had hidden long enough.
In the predawn light, Sydney gathered his passengers and took the Three Mills road to go home. To his daughter. His grandson. To Freedom.
The weather seemed calm, a few dry flakes fell, but in less than a half hour it was falling fast and furious.
After that, the wind came.
It lashed the car and any soul that braved it was left floundering, numb, and blind.
After the wind, the drifts.
After the drifts, the dark.
For Jarod, the weather was like his mood. Dark and angry.
*****
The car turned right and began to twist and turn, carefully down the snow-covered road. Debbie read the directions that her father had written down, making sure that they didn't miss the turn-off near the wooden post. The sun had set but with the cloudy sky cover it didn't matter, the day had been dismal. Broots had tried to contact Sydney or Angelo and received no answer from either of them. In fact the Centre's mainframe was down, Broots hoped it was due to the inclement weather and nothing else. The wind was beginning to pick up speed and whip the snow around again, causing whiteouts in spots. And even though they had detoured to do some quick gift shopping, they had made good time reaching the cabin.
"Dad, there's the wooden post. It's almost covered in snow, but it looks like someone came and cleared around it," Debbie pointed out the front window.
"Thank goodness, I'm exhausted and hungry."
"You're always hungry, Dad," his daughter laughed," I can't wait to see Miss Parker."
She hesitated slightly, and then looked at her father, knowing that she was going to meet a little boy that was Miss Parker's son as well as a eighteen-year-old young man. The truth of the matter is that she was nervous to meet Jake, after her father explained who and what he was, she was so afraid that she'd embarrass herself.
The lights were blazing from the living room windows, smoke curled from the chimneystack, lazily making circles in the gray-blue night. This was no ordinary cabin, it was beautiful. In fact, Broots was positive that he saw a painting of this house in Miss Parker's studio. Pulling the car in to the circular drive, Broots cut the engine and he and Deb made their way to the front door. Knocking somewhat timidly, Deb grabbed the knocker and banged it against the metal clapper. Opening the door, was a young man, with close-cropped hair, dark chocolate eyes, a small mole young his right eye, and a killer smile, standing next to him was a small boy.
"It's Mis'er Broots and a girl, Mommy," he yelled, pulling Debbie by the hand into the house. Broots entered the house, and stood nervously in the hallway, not quite sure of what to do or say.
"I need unload the car," he stammered.
"I'll help," Jake offered and grabbed his coat off the rack next to the door, slipping his feet into his snow boots.
Snow was swirling about them, and there were snowflakes on their hats and even clinging to Jake's eyelashes. And how dark it was, the stars looked as if they were falling too, all mixed up with the twirling of the snowflakes. Broots looked at the young man who he’d last seen four years ago as he peaked out of the plane that he and Major Charles had escaped in. He was definitely no longer a boy...and in many ways, no longer a "clone" of Jarod. He had turned into his own man, that was clear from his style of dress. A little funkier than the original model, Broots noted.
As Jake and Broots unloaded the car, Debbie shared a heartfelt reunion with the woman she regarded more as a mother than she did her own. Miss Parker was helping her grow up, doing all of the things that her mom should have been doing, and she’d been terrified that she might lose that when her father had first tried to explain things to her. When she saw Miss Parker’s face light up as she entered the room, her fear vanished.
"Miss P, I was so worried about you." Miss Parker was lying on the couch, her body wrapped in a warm blanket, so Debbie crouched down beside her to receive her embrace. After a moment, they both pulled back to survey each other.
"I’m okay, sweetheart. How are you? This must all seem pretty scary to you, hmm?"
Debbie let her eyes fall down to the floor for a moment, then back up at Miss Parker. It was all a little scary – her friend had almost died, her father was running for his life, and what they’d done to make Ryan...She nodded silently and Miss Parker soon had Debbie curled into her reassuring arms again.
"I know. I wish we could have always protected you from this, but you’re dad loves you, and as long as you have him, the rest will all work itself out, okay?"
Parker felt Debbie nod against her, and a she remembered again how important this "little girl" was to her. Hardly little anymore, she’d be a grown woman soon, but for now, she was still Broots’ to protect, and hers to spoil.
That was when Debbie remembered the bundle tucked under her arm. It had practically fallen on the floor and she scooped it up and stood. She unfolded it and placed it over the blanket that already covered Miss Parker.
"Isn’t this the quilt from my studio?"
Debbie nodded and sat down on the couch again.
"Yeah. Daddy went to your house and got some of your stuff he knew you’d want. We brought some and Dr. Greene has the rest."
Just then Broots and Jake walked in with the first load of boxes and bags and Ryan, who had been running around finding all of his family and alerting them to the new arrivals flew into the room just in time to see Broots sit down the white and gold angel box he had seen in his mommy’s office a few days earlier.
"You brought Morgana. Can I take care of her, Mommy? Can I?" He had the box in his hands and was already climbing up onto the couch with her before Miss Parker could even react. Debbie smiled at the little boy taking a good look at him. He was so clearly Miss Parker’s son, yet he was all little boy...curious and adorable.
"Yes, baby, you can, but first I want you to come meet a friend of mine. Ryan, this is Debbie, Broots’ daughter, and a very special friend of mine."
"Will you be my friend, too? I like having friends."
Debbie laughed out loud at the happy little boy, and for a moment, the spirit of the house was lifted by the pure joy of children being children. Sadly, after the unloading was finished, and a proper place was found for Bunny, who completely fascinated Ryan, it was time for a very worried Broots, Miss Parker and Charles to talk about the Centre.
"You mean you can’t get through either?" Broots looked at them totally worried. What the hell was going on back there and where were Sydney and Jarod?
"No." Charles shook his head, trying to keep all of the fear he felt out of his voice. "We haven’t heard anything since Sydney told us he would get Jarod out."
"Well, I’ve got my computer set up and it’s checking for anything Syd might have hidden in the mainframe. Problem is, the thing is a mess. Someone must have really shot the system to hell."
"Let’s just hope it was Syd and that he got Jarod out of there."
Miss Parker’s voice sounded so weary to Broots, the way he’d remembered her sounding after Thomas’ murder. He hated hearing it, but knew that for now, there was little he could do to fix it. Just then, Ryan bounded back into the room, Jake and Debbie, who had taken an instant liking to each other, following close behind.
"Mommy, I was looking at the book some more and we need a Christmas tree? Don’t you think we need a Christmas tree, Grandpa?"
Parker and Charles exchanged glances as they considered theirresponses. Certainly none of the adults in the house were in the mood to deal with Christmas, not with Jarod still missing, but Ryan was just a baby and now that they’d excited him about the holiday, there wasn’t much else they could do but put on happy smiles and charge ahead.
Charles stood and picked his grandson up in his arms, a quick tickle making him laugh.
"If it’s a Christmas tree you want, young man, then that’s what you’ll have."
*****
Chaos reigned at the Centre. In the aftermath of the horrible explosion which had killed two sweepers, destroyed Jarod’s body and left the not so impenetrable building barely functional, few details were making sense. Angelo was also missing and presumed dead. No one seemed to know how Mr. Raines’ cell phone and pager had stopped functioning. One thing Mr. Parker was certain of was that there was going to be hell to pay when Mutumbo found out that they had not only lost Angel and the boy, but now Jarod as well.
The thought of facing down the angry African sent chills down the old man’s spine. So many failures – Angel, the boy, though those were credited to Lyle, Jarod’s two escapes and now his death – Mutumbo would have a great deal to charge him with...and now he had to plan his defense. If it was convenient, he would save Raines as well. The man had his uses.
For no particular reason, he found himself wandering through the maze of workers who were trying to fix the damage done by the explosion. That would be easy enough to deal with...no matter what the real cause, he would blame it on Sydney. After all, the sentimental shrink had tried to blow the place up once before, hadn’t he? No difficulty in pushing the blame for this disaster on him.
Finally, Mr. Parker stopped in front of a glass window in Renewal Wing, and let his eyes fall on the figure inside. A shell – hardly anything left of the man he used to be, that was the only way to describe his son now. Not that he didn’t deserve it, hadn’t tried to kill him on more than one occasion, and what he’d allowed to happen to Angel...
His mind locked onto the plan that was forming there. Brigitte had been in full control of Lyle since Mutumbo had handed down the order for re-education, giving her full access to the Centre. A sweeper had already confessed to him that before his death, Bart had discovered that Brigitte had drugged Jarod...possibly leading to his attempted escape and his eventual death?
Mr. Parker stood a little straighter and smiled. There were scapegoats to be had, and he would hand each and every one of them over to Mutumbo if that’s what it took to save himself. It wasn’t as if the empire was permanently damaged. They had another clone in development, and there was always the girl child Brigitte had given birth to. True, she was no Jarod, no Angel for that matter, but he could build a new dynasty with out his treacherous wife around to endanger them. As for Lyle, the son he had barely known and never loved was no longer a danger to anyone, except maybe himself.
Some part of Lyle’s twisted mind, which now seemed trapped between a horrible beating at Lyle Bowman’s hands and the imagined, agonizing screams of his sister and her son going to their watery graves, Lyle knew someone was watching him. He turned his eyes and stared toward the glass. A face was there, but he no longer recognized the face. He was disappearing...sinking into a black hole...He wasn’t even sure what his name was anymore. He just wanted the screams to stop, his, hers, and that sweet-faced little boy who looked at him with questioning brown eyes and said one word over and over "Why?"
The face in the window left, and the man in the room curled into a tighter ball and began to disappear even deeper into the void that was now his home.
*****
He was bundled up in the snowsuit that Mr. Broots and his daughter, Debbie, had brought for him, his hands covered with warm mittens and snuggly warm boots on his feet. Much better then the first time he had decided to investigate the snow. He sat covered with a fleece blanket on the sled, when he decided to stick out his tongue and catch a plump white snowflake on its tip.
Up a hill they went, toward the big round moon. Ryan could hear the crunch of snow under the others boots. Up and over snowdrifts, they pulled him, wind whistling, nipping his nose, that he pulled the scarf up over his nose.
"There it is, Dad," Jake said, lifting it so that Ryan and Debbie could see the fir tree, which lay on its side almost buried in the snow.
"Broots and I cut it earlier," Jake said proudly.
"It's the biggest tree in the world," Ryan breathed," Will it fit in the house?"
"We'll make it fit," the major said, as he took the tree from Jake, shook some of the snow from its branches and hoisted it up onto the back of the other sled, then secured it with ropes.
As they pulled the tree through the frosted air, over moon-sparkled drifts, the heady pine smell reminded them that Christmas was fast approaching. Christmas Eve was five days away.
The tree was dragged into the house at last, along with a good deal of snow, which Margaret did her very best to seem stern about. Rather unsuccessfully too, for she was as excited as any of them.
They stood the tree up in front of the window, it fit exactly, its tip just brushing the ceiling of the room.
"Wow," said Emily.
"Mommy, do you like the tree?" cried Ryan as he rushed toward the sofa that she sat upon. She was so glad they had finally allowed downstairs, her place having been strictly in bed since they arrived.
"Baby, that's the biggest tree, I've ever seen," she smiled as she gathered him in her arms and kissed him.
There were strings of popcorn and cranberries which Miss Parker, Debbie and Emily made with Ryan's help, although he ate more popcorn that he strung. Margaret unpacked the cotton-whiskered Santas, the beautiful shining balls of red, gold, and green glass. Jake found the swans and birds with feathered tails, along with the angel-hair and tinsel, and red candles in silver holders. They all kept the mood as light as they could for the sake of the little boy who was just learning about the magic of this holiday.
The last thing to be placed on the tree was the Christmas Angel, however, that was always Jarod's responsibility, no one wanted to place her on the tip of the tree. Parker could see Ryan eying the beautiful decoration, though, and she knew she had to say something to him. Margaret had told her earlier about making the angel, and about the joy it had brought Jarod their first Christmas together, and now she could see her own son’s eyes reflecting that same happiness.
"Ryan, baby, the angel there is the decoration your Daddy always puts on the tree. Do you mind if we wait until he gets here for that?"
"You mean, my daddy’s tall enough to put that on the very top of the tree? I’ve just been standing there wondering how tall you would have to be to do that?"
His sweet and innocent answer sent the room into a fit of laughter, and as they began to clean up from their decorating, they all felt a little more hopeful that Christmas might bring something to celebrate after all.
Hours later, Miss Parker lay in bed, her arms wrapped around the son who had so quickly taken full possession of her heart. Looking at him, she marveled again at how little she had ever meant to her own father...never could she imagine harming this little innocent boy the way her father had her. She would not steal his life away, nor let anyone else do it, ever. She made the silent pledge as she kissed his head and closed her eyes, one last wish for the holidays in her heart.
"Please, please let Jarod make it home. His son needs him...I need him."
****
The house was dark and silent when they arrived. Jarod had been awakefor nearly an hour but he had not spoken to either of his fellow travelers since opening his eyes. He couldn’t speak – if he did, he was terrified the pain inside of him would explode. It was only because he knew he had to utter a few words that he pushed a few tight lipped utterances out as they reached the door of the place that had once held such joy for him...now it was as cold as his heart.
"Syd, I don’t want to face them all, not yet. Just get some sleep and we’ll deal with it all in the morning."
Sydney did not argue. Clearly, Jarod was still not ready to hear the truth. Morning would be soon enough, and he would have the real live pieces of evidence to back up his story.
After directing Syndey and Angelo to the bedroom, off to the left of the dining room, Jarod returned to the living room. Throwing another log on the fire, he curled up on the sofa, grabbing the quilt that lay draped across the arm, unaware of whose quilt he had wrapped his body in.
In his sleep, his mind filled with a dream that could never be – a Christmas tree surrounded by gifts, his son held high in his arms as he lifted him up and let him place the angel on top of the tree. And Parker...she was there, laughing, and her eyes were so happy and alive...alive.
It was still dark when he woke and he was unsure how long he slept. It seemed like that was all he had been doing since they left the Centre. His means of escaping reality. Ryan was sitting on the other end of the sofa, by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, rocking back and forth, his tiny feet banging against Jarod's. That is what had awakened him, it wasn't something Ryan had meant to do. Jarod looked at the small figure and was speechless.
"Are you a ghost, come to haunt me on Christmas?" he whispered.
"No!" the little boy smiled.
"Ryan!"
"Did Santa bring you in his sleigh, Daddy?" with that said, Jarod sat upright, reaching across the sofa, and like lightening he slipped his hands in side the blanket that was wrapped around Ryan.
Solid.
"My god, you're real. Alive. Here! How?" he pulled the little boy to him, revealing in the small arms that wrapped around his neck.
"Daddy, did you have a bad dream or something? You were calling me and you were calling Mommy."
Jarod squeezed the little bundle in his arms, trying to be careful not to hurt him. How? How was it possible? He’d seen the car, the blood. Carefully, he pushed his son back away from him and looked at him. His eyes danced in the soft moonlight that lit the room, and his smile was unmistakably that of his mother. He was real.
"Daddy, did you?"
"Did I what, Ryan?"
"Have a bad dream?"
Jarod pulled the little boy back into his arms and hugged him again, his heart coming to life again as he did so.
"Yes, I did. The very worst dream I’ve ever had." Suddenly, something dawned on Jarod, and he sat Ryan on his knee as he looked at him. "Ryan, you know who I am?"
"’Course I do. Mommy and grandma and grandpa and aunt Emily and Uncle Jake, they told me all ‘bout you. And look, we saved the angel for you...Grandma says that’s always your favorite part."
Jarod looked to where Ryan’s little baby finger pointed and sure enough, there was the angel his mother had made their first Christmas together. Then Jarod remembered his dream, and suddenly, he realized that it could come true after all. He stood up, holding his son in his arms as he crossed to pick up the angel, then he handed it to Ryan.
"How about we both do it?"
Ryan squealed with delight as his father lifted him high in the air and his little arms stretched out to get the placement just right. When he was satisfied, he smiled down at his father, and Jarod pulled him down, holding him tight again. They would have stayed like that forever had they both not heard the small gasp that came from the stairs.
Jarod turned and his eyes fell on Parker. She looked tired and thin and there were tears in her eyes – and to him, she had never been more beautiful.
Parker felt frozen to the spot where she stood. She’d woke and found Ryan gone and worried, had come to look for him. The effort had nearly killed her, her side throbbing, but she had to find her boy. Then she’d taken the last step from the staircase and seen...oh, God was it really him? Jarod.
It was Ryan who broke the silence. He squirmed out of his father’s arms and ran to his mother.
"See, Mommy, I told you. Daddy made it home in plenty of time for Christmas."
Parker nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened. Quickly, she leaned down and made herself eye level with her son.
"Yes, you did, baby. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go in the kitchen and see if there are any cookies left for Daddy?"
"Okay." Ryan skipped happily out of the room, and Parker stood straight, her eyes locking with Jarod’s. Now he was crying, and her own tears began to stream down her face. Her voice cracked with the emotions that were coursing through her body.
"What the hell were you thinking? Walking in the front door and turning yourself in? I thought...God, Jarod, I thought we’d lost you."
"You thought YOU had lost ME?"
Jarod moved quickly, his heart reminding him of all the things he had said he would do if Parker were still alive. Before she could think to move, he had her in his arms, and his lips found hers. To both his surprise and delight, she did not pull away and instead melted into his arms.
The kiss left them both shell-shocked. Jarod could see that the combination of all the emotional upheaval was beginning to take its toll on her and he directed Parker to the couch where he had been sleeping earlier. It was while they were settling down that his eyes finally focused on the quilt he’d covered himself with earlier...her quilt, the one he’d bought her.
"You brought it?"
"Broots did. It’s a long story. Jarod, I’m so sorry. We never meant for you to think..." He pulled her into his arms again, feeling the small sobs that were coming from her body.
"Shush. It was brilliant. They’ll never look for you now. I convinced them that you were dead...believe me, I convinced them."
"I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. There’s just been so much and it all happened so fast..."
"I know, Parker. I know. I’m here now. Oh, God, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, I promise."
The two were still sitting together when Ryan peeked around the corner. He knew from watching his grandparents that this was what parents were supposed to do, hug and kiss each other, so he figured everything was okay. He decided to sneak upstairs and give the grown ups a little time to themselves.
After Parker’s tears finally stopped and after Jarod regained the power of coherent thought, they sat apart from each other, each with a thousand questions they wanted to ask. It was Jarod who spoke first.
"Parker, how did you get here? Did Dad find you?"
"No, I found him."
"But how? I kept this place so hidden." He saw her eyes sweep downward, and his hand reached out and lifted her chin, bringing the brilliant blue orbs back even with his own.
"How?"
"I used to own it."
"What?"
"Momma and I, we used to come here during the holidays. Daddy...well, he wasn’t really into Christmas, so we would come here and celebrate for days and then Daddy would come on Christmas Eve. After she died, we never came again..."
"But how could you have known I bought it?"
"I made it too attractive for you not to buy it." She watched his eyes widen with surprise and finally, with realization.
"You’ve known all along?"
"When Sydney told me you’d found your family, I – Jarod, it was all I could do. Two weeks of peace and quiet a year, it was the only gift I had to give you. You’d given me so much...I just wanted to do something...to say thank you."
"Something...Parker, you gave me my life..." He pulled her into his arms again, and remembering another of those promises he’d made to himself, he stood and walked to the tree, knowing that his mother would have placed the ornament for him. After a lengthy search, he found what he was looking for and he returned to the couch.
"I kept this with me all this time because I – Parker, I kept it because it was the only part of you I could keep."
Parker looked down at his hands and her eyes focused on the red stained-glass heart that sat in his hands. Her mind was about to question the why of it when she remembered...the stain-glassed portrait of her...it had been missing it’s heart...and Jarod had kept it with him, safe and protected all this time.
She took hold of his hands with hers, covering the heart, she watched him drop to his knees, then bending his head over her hands, he brings them to his lips, kissing them.
"Put your arms around me," she whispered to him," Hold me. I need to feel your arms around me." They clung to each other for a long time before anyone spoke again.
"Parker, I want you to listen to me. I know we have a lot to sort through. I know we can’t pretend the last seven years didn’t happen, but we’re going to get through it. After these last few days, I know that I won’t let us not get through it. I need you too much. Believe me?"
Parker nodded against him and tightened the grip her arms held him in. She could do this – would do this. She would do it for her son because he needed a family, and for Jarod because he was asking, and for herself because...because...
‘It’s what you’ve always wanted, Parker.’ She heard her own voice in her head and it was soft and gentle, scolding her a bit like she remembered her mother doing when she was young. Yes, it was what she’d always wanted, and now, miraculously, it was possible.
*****
Sydney stood in the dark hallway watching the two of them. Sydney had this feeling of mental angst when matters turned to Parker. Parker, who had the look of a carefully sculpted china doll, so fragile that even a harsh word would shatter her, yet Sydney realized that she was tougher than she looked.
He wanted to walk over to her, hold her tightly, tell her everything that he was feeling, explain how much he loved her and why he never revealed the truth. He also felt completely inadequate to the task.
Tomorrow. There would be time tomorrow.
*****
Margaret stood and stretched, pulling on her bathrobe. She walked downstairs to start the coffee hopeful that today would be the day that brought news of her oldest son. He had so much to live for now. He had to find a way home.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and small gasp escaped her mouth before she could stifle it with her hand. The noise brought Ryan’s tiny head up from where it rested against his mother’s chest. He smiled over at his grandmother, then lay back down again, securely held in his mother’s arms...and she was held in his father’s.
Margaret looked at the scene, father, mother and child sleeping together, and tears poured from her eyes. Jarod was home, reunited with the two people he’d almost thrown his whole life away for, and Christmas, it seemed, had brought them a miracle after all.
Quickly, Margaret climbed the stairs, anxious to let the rest of the family know what had happened. Minutes after she left, Jarod’s tired eyes blinked open, and he looked down at his arms to see Ryan staring up at him.
"Morning Daddy."
Jarod raised a finger and indicated to Ryan they should whisper so as not to wake Parker. Ryan smiled and then in a loud whisper only children can really manage, he spoke again.
"Mommy’s really beautiful, isn’t she?"
"Yes," Jarod replied, a smile spreading over his face as one finger began to gently stroke Parker’s cheek, "yes, she is."
Parker stirred then, opening her eyes and finding Ryan in front of her, which meant the incredible warmth and security she felt behind her came from only one person. It had not been a dream. He was home, and they were together again.
Soon, the room filled with more Russells who had awakened to the good news of Jarod’s return, and then Debbie and Broots came down and finally Sydney and Angelo joined them. Hugs and expressions of love were the order of the day, and it was only the rumbling of their stomachs that broke up the happy scene. Margaret went off to start breakfast, and Jarod, who had noticed Parker wincing a bit, insisted on taking her upstairs to look at her wound.
His father had done a good job considering how little he’d had to work with. She would heal fine, though she’d hate the scar it left behind. Armed with a fresh dressing, she insisted on getting cleaned up and in some clean clothes. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, her face flushed from the hot water, she found herself facing someone she hadn’t expected.
"Syd, you startled me. We haven’t had much chance to talk yet, have we?" She crossed over and embraced him, grateful for all he had done to bring Jarod home to them. When she stood back, she could see the dark clouds in his eyes, and for some reason she couldn’t explain, they frightened her.
"Syd, what is it?"
Jarod walked past the bedroom door, but, hearing Sydney’s voice in the room with Parker’s he left them alone. He would come back in a minute and check on her.
Jarod took one look at Parker and knew something was wrong. He had left her alone with Syd, and now she was very quiet. It was this silence that caught Jarod's attention.
"What's wrong?" he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, taking hold her hands in his.
"Nothing," the response was so Parker that he smiled, slightly.
"What did Sydney have to say to you?"
She looked at him, then away, her eyes threatening to overflow with the tears that she tried to will away.
"Don't withdraw on me, Parker!"
"I don't withdraw," she got up from the bed, looked out the window to the three figures that were under the window.
"Where are you going?"
"To check our son."
"We're in the middle of a discussion, Parker."
"No, we're not. You're in the middle of treating me as if I'm a child, telling me that I'm withdrawing. Me, I'm just going to check on our son."
"He's playing in the snow with Jake and Emily. And yes, you're withdrawing. Damn it, Morgana!"
She whipped her head around, staring opened mouthed, totally stunned that he had used her first name. He was standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, brown eyes boring into blue ones.
"The truth is, I. . .he. . . you see."
"Morgana," he reached up and cupped her face in his hands, "What did we talk about last night? No more secrets."
"He's my father," she whispered, her resolve finally crumbling, the tears streamed down her face, as she leaned against his chest. He led her to the bed, and she curled up against him, his hand stroking her hair as she cried. He would wait until she was ready to talk.
"How could he do it, Jarod? How could he just stand by and not tell me?"
"I’m sure he had his reasons, Parker." Jarod knew instantly he had given the wrong response. It had been an honest one, but it was not what she wanted to hear. She pushed away from him, sitting up.
"You think there were ANY reasons good enough? He sat there and watched me fighting a losing battle, Jarod, and he did nothing."
"He loves you, Parker. Imperfectly, and not the way you needed to be loved, but he does love you. So did your fath—so did Mr. Parker, they just weren’t good at dealing with it."
"Well, why the hell not? Why is it that no one ever seems to know how to deal with loving me?" She was crying again, and Jarod knew that the last statement was directed just a little bit at him. Sighing, he stood and walked around to where she was sitting, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her even with him.
"Because we’re all flawed, silly men who don’t know how to do the easiest thing in the world, and that’s tell you that we love you."
She sank deeper into his embrace, and her tears flowed again, but this time not from anger.
"You do?" Her voice was small and hesitant, and Jarod hoped it was the last time ever he would hear that tone in her voice.
"More than my life, Parker. Always have, always will."
The words said, they both felt a new freedom and they held tight to each other. Still, Parker’s heart was heavy, and she knew there was still more she needed to tell the man who held her. Her tears gone, shelooked up into his dark eyes, a slight smile on her face.
"I love you, you know that, don't you?" she whispered, he nodded his head, uncertain were this conversation was going, "So much so that I would risk everything to. . .to see you have all the things you’ve ever wanted."
"Parker," his eyes filled with worry, an ominous feeling entered his heart, "You weren’t just crying because of finding out about Syd being your father were you?"
Looking into his eyes, she removed herself from his embrace and walked over to the desk, picking up the file that Sydney had given her. Hesitating for only a moment she placed the file in his outstretched hand. Walking over to the window, she looked down at the three figures, the two older ones were showing Ryan how to make snow angels. Placing her hand upon the windowpane, she released the breath she had been holding, anticipating the explosion from Jarod. An explosion that never came, instead she felt his arms wrap around her, his chin nestling in the crook of her neck, his sweet warm breath next to her ear.
"Not your life, Parker. I can’t let you risk that again. I need you too much, and so does Ryan."
"But if I want to..."
"Parker, how can you ask me to do that?" She turned in his arms, and he felt his heart tighten at the depth of the mixture of pain and love he saw in her eyes.
"Jarod, they stole it from me. I know we have Ryan, and I love him with all my heart, but I used to dream about having a child of my own...that is when I used to dream. I pushed that dream away forever after Tommy died, but now, how can I? I want to know what it’s like to carry our child, your child, and I know you want more children..."
"What if we lose you? You read the file, Parker. Your risk of serious complications is more than 60%. You could go into premature labor, the scar tissue could tear and cause hemorrhaging...I hate what they did to you. I wish I could...Parker, please, I don’t know if I can stand by and let you take a chance like that."
Parker lifted her hand and placed it against his cheek. Of course she understood, but it didn’t change how she felt in her heart. She needed to do this, in fact, she needed to so badly it frightened her. Something inside of her had been awakened by Ryan’s appearance in her life, maybe that little sliver of her mother Jarod had always tried to keep alive, and she couldn’t ignore it, not even for him.
"We’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now we need to go spend the holidays with our son."
Jarod nodded, knowing the fight was far from over, but for now Parker was right, there was no reason to let it spoil these first few precious days together. The Centre was behind them, the powers that be convinced the three of them were dead. Someone, some angel watching over them had given them the most miraculous gift in the world...each other, and it was time for his little family of three to begin their life together
