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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: All I'm getting from this is a little bit of fun. No cash is involved, so there are no royalties for those who really own the characters. So finally, the saga continues.
The King and the Pawn
Refuge
By Phenyx
The sun was high when Parker finally stretched and woke the next morning. She found herself alone in Jarod's room. One half of the bedspread had been gently folded over to cover her, wrapping her in a warm cocoon. With a yawn, Parker ran her fingers through her hair and wandered down the hall to the bathroom.
After a long hot shower, Parker wrapped herself in a plain cotton robe and headed for the kitchen for coffee and something to eat. Halfway to her destination, she found Jarod stretched out in front of the television, fast asleep. CNN news was scrolling through the headlines of the day on the TV screen while a bubbly blond haired girl regaled the audience with the most recent weather update for the country. A mug, half full of cold coffee, sat on a nearby end table along with an empty cereal bowl and three neatly stacked piles of various envelopes.
A quick glance made it obvious that Jarod had gone through the mail, carefully sorting each piece and categorizing them into stacks. One stack for bills, one for junk, and one for miscellaneous items. Nothing had been opened, for they were all addressed to Miss Parker or to occupant.
As Parker gazed down at the sleeping pretender and the heaps of correspondence at his side, she frowned sadly. Jarod had been in residence for nearly a year now, and yet he was so very conscious of the fact that nothing outside of his bedroom belonged to him. Aside from the actual presence of the man sleeping on the furniture, Parker could find no indication in the entire room that anyone else lived here.
Parker headed to the kitchen with these thoughts heavy on her mind. The conversation they had shared last night made it apparent that Jarod was beginning to feel a stability in this house. It was a feeling of constancy that Jarod didn't think he was entitled to claim.
Pouring herself some coffee, Parker sipped at her mug and stared thoughtfully out the window. Admittedly, Parker's attitude had always been that Jarod could stay until he was ready to leave, whenever that may be. She realized now that she needed to change her thinking on the issue. To be honest, she enjoyed Jarod's company most of the time. The mere thought of being forced to live alone again made her skin crawl.
Jarod didn't want to leave. Parker wouldn't make him. It was time to make the house 'theirs' and not just 'hers'.
But convincing Jarod of this on an emotional level would be difficult. Jarod had been displaced and outcast for a very long time. Although he already felt an attachment, a belonging, in this old house, learning to accept the permanence of it would be a struggle.
Parker needed to find a symbol of Jarod's claim on their home, something that was uniquely his. Or even better, she needed to find something that they had created together.
As Miss Parker began to prepare herself a late breakfast, she began to wonder if perhaps it was time to redecorate the house. The place hadn't been given a good overhaul since she had moved into it years ago. She had wanted to keep the memory of her mother alive by keeping her sanctuary just as it had been.
The more Parker thought about it, the better the idea sounded. The décor was too dark and she wanted a change. Her life had altered drastically since Jarod had come back to Delaware. As a result, Parker's attitude had become brighter and she no longer felt the need to wallow in the dark to feel some connection to her mother.
Munching on a piece of fruit while her bagel toasted, Parker was still lost in thought when a sleepy eyed Jarod wandered into the room.
Scratching at the hair on his bare chest, Jarod yawned, "Good morning. Or is it good afternoon?"
"Still morning for a little while," Parker smiled.
Jarod frowned slightly as he dumped the cold liquid from his cup and filled it with fresh coffee. "You have that look on your face, Parker," he scolded. "What's going on?"
"What look?" she cried defensively.
Jarod sat in a chair at the table with Parker and said, "That thoughtful, list-making look."
Parker raised her brows questioningly.
"You're making lists of things to do in your head," Jarod explained.
Parker smirked, "Maybe."
With a soft chuckle Jarod said, "You really do have control issues, Miss Parker."
"Look who's talking, Buster," she replied laughingly.
Snatching a bagel for himself from the package, Jarod began to eat as he asked, "So what is on the agenda for today?"
Parker nodded, "We need to pay some bills. That stack of mail is huge," she complained. "I'd appreciate your help getting that done as soon as we can."
"Sure," Jarod said.
They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes. Parker was chewing thoughtfully and staring at the wall when she said slowly, "I think I have decided that I hate this wallpaper."
Jarod blinked at her, startled by the sudden comment. He gazed intently at the design for a moment before responding, "It seems to be a simple enough pattern. A little worn perhaps."
"Those tiny little flowers have been there for as long as I can remember," Parker said. "I'm tired of flowers."
"Okay," Jarod replied slowly.
"Do you think we will have any trouble getting the paper off the wall?" Parker asked nonchalantly.
Jarod's eyebrows rose slightly. "Not if it is that old," he said. "There's a place it town that rents steamers made for removing wallpaper. But it's a very messy job."
Parker paused for a long moment before asking, "So what do you think, just paint it white? Or should we hang a new design?"
Jarod smiled as he realized where this conversation was going. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm the manual labor in this equation?"
"I'm not tall enough to reach the corners," Parker complained.
"That's what ladders are for," Jarod said.
Parker smiled tauntingly, "But I don't need a ladder, Jarod. I have you."
They were both chortling in amusement when the phone ran a moment later.
As Parker started to move toward the ringing device, Jarod put out a hand to stop her. "Let the machine get it," he commanded in an icy voice.
Parker sat back down cautiously. Jarod's good humor slipped into nothingness when his mother's voice floated out of the answering machine in the next room.
"Good morning, Dear," the older woman called cheerfully. "I guess you must still be asleep. I'm sure you're jet lagged but we have all missed you so much. I'm preparing a big welcome home dinner for you. So I want you to get plenty of rest this afternoon at come by at around six. See you then sweetheart. Bye!"
There was a distinctive click of sound as the connection ended.
Parker watched warily as Jarod stood and went to the sink to rinse out his cup.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Parker asked.
Jarod sighed and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Talk about what?" he replied.
"What happened when you last visited your parents, Jarod?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "We argued. That's all."
Parker folded her arms and sat back. "Well, whatever you disagreed about, your mother doesn't sound like she's still upset."
Jarod pushed away from the counter angrily and began clearing off the table. "I'm still upset," he grumbled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Parker repeated.
Jarod slammed the refrigerator door after replacing the butter. "No," he growled. With a heavy sigh, he sank into the chair, propped his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "Yes," he whispered in a small voice.
Parker waited. Jarod was ready to talk now. All she needed to do was wait for him to find the words.
He sighed again. "My mother wants me to give Emily a job. Teach her about the family business so to speak."
Parker nodded, "We can find something for her, in H.R perhaps. Or even better, with her journalism background maybe she'd do well in media relations"
"That's what I thought," Jarod said morosely. "But as it turns out, they already have a position in mind for her."
"Well?" Parker urged.
"They think I need someone to help with the day to day minutia of running the corporation. Someone to take the meetings I can't fit into my schedule, decide what little emergencies require my attention, host company functions and such like," Jarod explained.
"I see," Parker said slowly, beginning to understand. "And you told your parents that you didn't need someone to do those things for you."
Jarod nodded. "You are there to do those things for me," he said in a low voice.
"Emily has no experience with the people at The Centre," Parker expounded. "She wouldn't have the first idea of how to get anything done."
"I know that," Jarod griped. "Hell, look at what I've thrown at you in the last month. No one else could have accomplished what you did."
Parker blinked at the pretender in astonishment. "Are you telling me that you were purposely being difficult to see if I could hack it?"
Jarod looked at her sheepishly, "Maybe just a bit."
"Damn it, Jarod," Parker began.
"But I had to know," Jarod interrupted. Seeing Parker's frown, the pretender sighed once more. "My mother claims that I let you have the job in return for sexual favors," he said miserably.
Parker tried hard to hide a smirk. "Did you tell her that we don't sleep together?"
"Where I sleep and whom I chose to sleep with is none of my mother's business," Jarod hissed between clenched teeth.
"Well, she isn't alone, you know," Parker said gently. "Seeing as we are literally living together, I'm sure the general assumption is that we have sex."
"But we don't," Jarod cried in exasperation.
"Do you want to?" Parker asked mildly.
The startled look on Jarod's face was so comical, that Parker nearly burst out laughing.
Placing her hand over one of Jarod's, Parker said gently, "It's about time we talked about this don't you think?"
Jarod wrapped Parker's hands in both of his own and gazed at her for a long moment. Parker could see the astonishment slip away to be replaced by serious thought and reflection on the subject.
"Sometimes," Jarod began slowly. "There are times when you are so beautiful, so sensually attractive, it makes me crazy. But," he tilted his head thoughtfully. "It isn't as often as one might think." Jarod shrugged. "Maybe it's because I never had much of a sex life when I was a younger man. Maybe it's because we are so incredibly intimate in so many other ways. Sex seems almost like an afterthought."
"For the most part," Jarod said seriously. "I'm perfectly content just spending time with you, alone like we are now. Talking or walking in the park, or even just sitting together while we watch television," he smiled warmly. "I especially like it when I stretch out on the couch and pillow my head in your lap. You play with my hair in this absent-minded sort of way that feels really nice."
Parker nodded. "You like the normal things," she agreed.
"It's not just that," Jarod frowned. "I like who I am when we are alone together. I don't have to hide anything. I can say just about anything I want."
"You can't do that with your folks, can you?" Parker said knowingly. She had spent a lifetime carefully choosing her words with her own father.
The pretender shook his head. "There is so much I don't want to explain to them. So much that would only frighten and upset them. I don't have to worry about that with you. You have seen every dark and horrific aspect of my personality. You know all there is to know. There are no secrets between us." Jarod sighed. "There is a great deal of security in the knowledge that no matter what I have done, you haven't judged me in any way."
Miss Parker smiled affectionately and patted Jarod's hand. "Our relationship is slightly Oedipal in nature. Do you realize that?"
Jarod nodded slightly. "You do take really good care of me, Parker. You protect me when you can and let me fail when you feel I need to." He smiled. "You've watched me grow up over these past few years."
Parker ran a tender caress over the stubble on Jarod's jaw. "We are a part of each other, you and I. We are more than friends, closer than partners."
After a heartbeat's worth of pause, Jarod added with a growing smile, "But if you're interested in exploring a sexual aspect of our relationship, I'll be more than glad to oblige."
Parker snickered, "I don't doubt that one bit, Pez-head."
With an exaggerated look of disappointment, Jarod teased, "Is that a 'No'?"
"You're not the only one going crazy on occasion, Wonder-boy," Parker purred. "Especially when you walk around half naked like you are now."
A sly grin spread across Jarod's face. "If you like what you see, feel free to take it for a test drive sometime," he growled invitingly.
"Promise me that you won't have a coronary when I take you up on that offer," Parker chuckled as she pushed away from the table.
Jarod's grin spread. "I like ' when '. ' When ' is a good word. So much more optimistic than the word ' if ', wouldn't you agree?"
With a snort, Parker headed for the door. "Get dressed, Jarod. We have a lot to do before we go up to the big house this evening."
A few minutes later, Parker was in her room pulling a shirt over her head. As she pulled her hair out from under the collar and straightened the cotton over her waistband she became aware of a sound coming from down the hall. Jarod was whistling the theme from "Bonanza".
Smiling happily, Parker sat on her bed to slip a pair of canvass shoes on her feet. It was a full minute before she realized that she had begun to hum the tune as well.
--
"Is that straight?" Jarod asked.
"Up on the left just a smidge," Parker ordered.
Jarod frowned in confusion, "What's a smidge?"
Parker rolled her eyes and reached up to tap one end of the painting so that it hung properly on its anchor. Nodding with satisfaction, she glanced around the room appreciatively. The fairy tale painting had been the last item of décor to go up in the room.
"This looks really nice, Jarod," she said proudly.
"You like it?" he asked warily.
"It's perfect," Parker assured him with a soft touch on his arm.
This had been the last room in the house to be renovated. Once the two of them had set to work, the kitchen had been quickly overhauled. They had then moved to the bathrooms, the bedrooms and the living room. Parker and Jarod had each decorated their own bedrooms and baths. A door had been placed in one wall so that Jarod's room now had its own adjoining bathroom.
The living room had been a joint effort and the subject of much debate for the two weeks they had worked on it. But finally they had agreed on a combination of earthy tones ranging from deep gray to tan. Splashes of rust- colored hues, ceramic vases and a spastically designed rug all blended together for a friendly, warm atmosphere.
They had made love a handful of times in the weeks since they had first discussed it in the kitchen. The encounters had been more playful than passionate though thoroughly enjoyable and very satisfying for them both. Overall, their sexuality had not altered the relationship in any way. Jarod and Parker each slept in their own rooms at night. Both were perfectly content with the arrangement.
It had been on the new rug, in front of the fire, that Parker had first voiced her ideas for the last room of the house. The two of them had been curled together in the sleepy aftermath of what Jarod now called "test drives".
"You cart too much stuff back and forth in your briefcase, Jarod," she had whispered while playing with the hair on his chest.
Jarod knew that Parker rarely changed the subject so abruptly without a purpose. So he went along with it to find out what she was after, "If I leave the files at the office, I would be at The Centre eighteen ours a day in order to get everything done. This lets me accomplish things here at home."
"You should have an office here," Parker told him. "That way you would have a place to keep extra files."
Jarod smiled. "Do you want to build an office onto the house, Parker?"
"No," Parker whispered. "I thought you could use the studio."
Jarod had been flabbergasted. "You would let me put my things in your mother's studio?" he asked in shock.
"It needs a good cleaning, and a new coat of paint," Parker said. "You'll need to get some furniture and it probably needs to be rewired so that you can install computers and a phone line."
"Parker," Jarod whispered. "I don't know what to say."
"Say it's a good idea." She answered.
"Are you sure?" he argued.
"Positive," Parker said with a nod. "I've thought about it quite a bit."
Jarod had kissed her then. After a long moment he asked, "Have you picked a color scheme for this office?"
"It's yours, Jarod," she smiled. "You get to pick."
Jarod had taken the assignment very seriously, knowing only too well what this gesture represented. Redesigning and furnishing this room had taken the pretender nearly a month. He had done all the work himself, from the electrical wiring to the new woodwork. On more than one occasion, Jarod had spent all night in the room, sanding or painting or putting up new drywall.
The result was a lovely room with dark mahogany woodwork. The faded pattern on the window seat had not changed. The room had been decorated to match that old scrap of fabric. The two large desks were of modern design, crafted to look old, but equipped with hidden compartments for electronic devices. The desks were situated close to each other, each with an elegant leather chair facing one another.
Along one wall was a work counter with a series of built in drawers for files. On the opposite wall was a large cabinet with double doors that contained a copy and fax machine and an assortment of other office paraphernalia.
The large windows had tieback curtains in a deep emerald color that matched the desk pads. These served to accentuate the green of the dancing frog in the painting that had just been re-hung in its place near the window.
The room was tastefully done, functionally practical and yet distinctly Jarod. On the wall above one desk was a glass-encased cabinet like the ones used by miniature collectors. But rather than holding matchbooks or pewter figures, this case held Jarod's favorite Pez dispensers.
The surface of one desk was empty, waiting for Miss Parker's things. But on the other desk were a silver perpetual motion toy, a bright red plastic slinky and a picture frame. In the frame was the black and white image of the two toddlers sitting in the window seat.
Parker smiled as she turned and looked into the next room. The wall she had once erected to close this area off had now been torn down. In its place was a set of sliding wooden panels. When the doors were open, as they were tonight, the two rooms melded into one. But if privacy was needed, the panels easily slid shut.
"It really looks nice," Parker repeated stepping into a quick embrace.
"I'm glad you like it," Jarod murmured into her hair.
"You are the only one who matters in this, " Parker scolded as she brushed a bit of fluff from his black shirt. "You have to work in it."
"I know," Jarod said. "But I want you to approve."
"Well, I do," Parker reassured him. "It looks fabulous."
"You look fabulous," Jarod grinned.
Parker smoothed her hair nervously. "I hope everything goes well tonight," she fretted. "This could be a disaster."
"Lyle isn't coming," Jarod reassured her. "So what could go wrong?"
Parker scoffed and strode into the dining room to check on the arrangements one more time. They were having a small dinner party. It was the first such gathering that they had held in their home. The only guests in attendance would be family and friends. Not only would Jarod's parents be here, but Sydney and Broots were coming as well. In the past, all interaction between Jarod's two distinct families had been through very brief phone messages.
"They could wind up throttling each other," Parker said in a worried tone.
"Nah," Jarod scoffed. "I made everyone promise to be on their best behavior."
Over the last several weeks, Jarod had found a way to deal with his mother's attempts to direct his decisions. He simply ignored them. Whenever she broached the subject of his moving in with rest of the family, Jarod simply blew her off. More often than not he responded to such inquiries with detailed descriptions of the current work he was doing on the cottage. His mother had quickly gotten the picture and had let the subject drop.
The same was true regarding Emily's new job at The Centre. Jarod had placed her in the media department as a low level assistant. Emily would be given plenty of opportunities to advance her position within the corporate structure. But Jarod had made in quite clear that she would need to earn any promotions. They would not be handed to her.
A plump, dark haired woman cleared her throat discretely to get Miss Parker's attention.
"Yes, Caren?" Parker said in acknowledgement.
"Carl has just arrived with the pastries for desert, Madam," the woman said.
"Thank god," Parker sighed. Entertaining a house full of people was stressful enough. Parker couldn't imagine how harrowing it would have been if she had not decided to have the food catered.
"I found the mail on the kitchen counter. Ma'am," the girl added. "Thought you might like to put it safely away."
"I'll take care of it," Jarod offered, taking the small stack and strolling back toward the office.
The doorbell rang and Parker hurried to open the door. As Broots and his daughter, Debbie, crossed the threshold, Parker turned and saw Jarod leaning casually against his desk. He had a letter opener in one hand and a torn envelop in the other. The pretender was perusing a credit card bill.
Parker smiled happily to herself. Jarod looked so relaxed, so sure of himself. He seemed to be coming to terms with the life he now led. Jarod seemed to be happy. He was at home.
Granted, there would always be times when the darkness of their past would rise up and haunt them. Jarod's sudden aversion to small children was a prime example. For reasons that he had yet to discuss, the pretender had abruptly decided he would never have a family of his own.
"This branch of the Parker family tree has been trimmed," he would say coldly.
In what Parker guessed was a subconscious effort to avoid what he could not have, Jarod had become very sensitive to the presence of children. Jarod and his corporation donated millions to fight for children's rights and he had started the Timothy Foundation to help parents find missing children. But the pretender was easily irritated whenever youngsters were actually in his presence.
Parker understood. She had come to the same conclusion herself quite some time ago. She could not picture herself as someone's mother any more than she could imagine becoming a nun. No child of hers would ever grow up in the shadows of The Centre.
As Parker answered another knock at the door, she caught Jarod's eye and smiled. The pretender's face lit up and his eyes twinkled as he beamed back at her. Parker chuckled.
Yes, there would always be dark days. There would always be nightmares and irrational fears for them both. But together Jarod and Parker could find their way. And one day, one day soon, the good days would begin to come more often than the bad.
Perhaps they already did.
The King and the Pawn
Refuge
By Phenyx
The sun was high when Parker finally stretched and woke the next morning. She found herself alone in Jarod's room. One half of the bedspread had been gently folded over to cover her, wrapping her in a warm cocoon. With a yawn, Parker ran her fingers through her hair and wandered down the hall to the bathroom.
After a long hot shower, Parker wrapped herself in a plain cotton robe and headed for the kitchen for coffee and something to eat. Halfway to her destination, she found Jarod stretched out in front of the television, fast asleep. CNN news was scrolling through the headlines of the day on the TV screen while a bubbly blond haired girl regaled the audience with the most recent weather update for the country. A mug, half full of cold coffee, sat on a nearby end table along with an empty cereal bowl and three neatly stacked piles of various envelopes.
A quick glance made it obvious that Jarod had gone through the mail, carefully sorting each piece and categorizing them into stacks. One stack for bills, one for junk, and one for miscellaneous items. Nothing had been opened, for they were all addressed to Miss Parker or to occupant.
As Parker gazed down at the sleeping pretender and the heaps of correspondence at his side, she frowned sadly. Jarod had been in residence for nearly a year now, and yet he was so very conscious of the fact that nothing outside of his bedroom belonged to him. Aside from the actual presence of the man sleeping on the furniture, Parker could find no indication in the entire room that anyone else lived here.
Parker headed to the kitchen with these thoughts heavy on her mind. The conversation they had shared last night made it apparent that Jarod was beginning to feel a stability in this house. It was a feeling of constancy that Jarod didn't think he was entitled to claim.
Pouring herself some coffee, Parker sipped at her mug and stared thoughtfully out the window. Admittedly, Parker's attitude had always been that Jarod could stay until he was ready to leave, whenever that may be. She realized now that she needed to change her thinking on the issue. To be honest, she enjoyed Jarod's company most of the time. The mere thought of being forced to live alone again made her skin crawl.
Jarod didn't want to leave. Parker wouldn't make him. It was time to make the house 'theirs' and not just 'hers'.
But convincing Jarod of this on an emotional level would be difficult. Jarod had been displaced and outcast for a very long time. Although he already felt an attachment, a belonging, in this old house, learning to accept the permanence of it would be a struggle.
Parker needed to find a symbol of Jarod's claim on their home, something that was uniquely his. Or even better, she needed to find something that they had created together.
As Miss Parker began to prepare herself a late breakfast, she began to wonder if perhaps it was time to redecorate the house. The place hadn't been given a good overhaul since she had moved into it years ago. She had wanted to keep the memory of her mother alive by keeping her sanctuary just as it had been.
The more Parker thought about it, the better the idea sounded. The décor was too dark and she wanted a change. Her life had altered drastically since Jarod had come back to Delaware. As a result, Parker's attitude had become brighter and she no longer felt the need to wallow in the dark to feel some connection to her mother.
Munching on a piece of fruit while her bagel toasted, Parker was still lost in thought when a sleepy eyed Jarod wandered into the room.
Scratching at the hair on his bare chest, Jarod yawned, "Good morning. Or is it good afternoon?"
"Still morning for a little while," Parker smiled.
Jarod frowned slightly as he dumped the cold liquid from his cup and filled it with fresh coffee. "You have that look on your face, Parker," he scolded. "What's going on?"
"What look?" she cried defensively.
Jarod sat in a chair at the table with Parker and said, "That thoughtful, list-making look."
Parker raised her brows questioningly.
"You're making lists of things to do in your head," Jarod explained.
Parker smirked, "Maybe."
With a soft chuckle Jarod said, "You really do have control issues, Miss Parker."
"Look who's talking, Buster," she replied laughingly.
Snatching a bagel for himself from the package, Jarod began to eat as he asked, "So what is on the agenda for today?"
Parker nodded, "We need to pay some bills. That stack of mail is huge," she complained. "I'd appreciate your help getting that done as soon as we can."
"Sure," Jarod said.
They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes. Parker was chewing thoughtfully and staring at the wall when she said slowly, "I think I have decided that I hate this wallpaper."
Jarod blinked at her, startled by the sudden comment. He gazed intently at the design for a moment before responding, "It seems to be a simple enough pattern. A little worn perhaps."
"Those tiny little flowers have been there for as long as I can remember," Parker said. "I'm tired of flowers."
"Okay," Jarod replied slowly.
"Do you think we will have any trouble getting the paper off the wall?" Parker asked nonchalantly.
Jarod's eyebrows rose slightly. "Not if it is that old," he said. "There's a place it town that rents steamers made for removing wallpaper. But it's a very messy job."
Parker paused for a long moment before asking, "So what do you think, just paint it white? Or should we hang a new design?"
Jarod smiled as he realized where this conversation was going. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm the manual labor in this equation?"
"I'm not tall enough to reach the corners," Parker complained.
"That's what ladders are for," Jarod said.
Parker smiled tauntingly, "But I don't need a ladder, Jarod. I have you."
They were both chortling in amusement when the phone ran a moment later.
As Parker started to move toward the ringing device, Jarod put out a hand to stop her. "Let the machine get it," he commanded in an icy voice.
Parker sat back down cautiously. Jarod's good humor slipped into nothingness when his mother's voice floated out of the answering machine in the next room.
"Good morning, Dear," the older woman called cheerfully. "I guess you must still be asleep. I'm sure you're jet lagged but we have all missed you so much. I'm preparing a big welcome home dinner for you. So I want you to get plenty of rest this afternoon at come by at around six. See you then sweetheart. Bye!"
There was a distinctive click of sound as the connection ended.
Parker watched warily as Jarod stood and went to the sink to rinse out his cup.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Parker asked.
Jarod sighed and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Talk about what?" he replied.
"What happened when you last visited your parents, Jarod?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "We argued. That's all."
Parker folded her arms and sat back. "Well, whatever you disagreed about, your mother doesn't sound like she's still upset."
Jarod pushed away from the counter angrily and began clearing off the table. "I'm still upset," he grumbled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Parker repeated.
Jarod slammed the refrigerator door after replacing the butter. "No," he growled. With a heavy sigh, he sank into the chair, propped his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "Yes," he whispered in a small voice.
Parker waited. Jarod was ready to talk now. All she needed to do was wait for him to find the words.
He sighed again. "My mother wants me to give Emily a job. Teach her about the family business so to speak."
Parker nodded, "We can find something for her, in H.R perhaps. Or even better, with her journalism background maybe she'd do well in media relations"
"That's what I thought," Jarod said morosely. "But as it turns out, they already have a position in mind for her."
"Well?" Parker urged.
"They think I need someone to help with the day to day minutia of running the corporation. Someone to take the meetings I can't fit into my schedule, decide what little emergencies require my attention, host company functions and such like," Jarod explained.
"I see," Parker said slowly, beginning to understand. "And you told your parents that you didn't need someone to do those things for you."
Jarod nodded. "You are there to do those things for me," he said in a low voice.
"Emily has no experience with the people at The Centre," Parker expounded. "She wouldn't have the first idea of how to get anything done."
"I know that," Jarod griped. "Hell, look at what I've thrown at you in the last month. No one else could have accomplished what you did."
Parker blinked at the pretender in astonishment. "Are you telling me that you were purposely being difficult to see if I could hack it?"
Jarod looked at her sheepishly, "Maybe just a bit."
"Damn it, Jarod," Parker began.
"But I had to know," Jarod interrupted. Seeing Parker's frown, the pretender sighed once more. "My mother claims that I let you have the job in return for sexual favors," he said miserably.
Parker tried hard to hide a smirk. "Did you tell her that we don't sleep together?"
"Where I sleep and whom I chose to sleep with is none of my mother's business," Jarod hissed between clenched teeth.
"Well, she isn't alone, you know," Parker said gently. "Seeing as we are literally living together, I'm sure the general assumption is that we have sex."
"But we don't," Jarod cried in exasperation.
"Do you want to?" Parker asked mildly.
The startled look on Jarod's face was so comical, that Parker nearly burst out laughing.
Placing her hand over one of Jarod's, Parker said gently, "It's about time we talked about this don't you think?"
Jarod wrapped Parker's hands in both of his own and gazed at her for a long moment. Parker could see the astonishment slip away to be replaced by serious thought and reflection on the subject.
"Sometimes," Jarod began slowly. "There are times when you are so beautiful, so sensually attractive, it makes me crazy. But," he tilted his head thoughtfully. "It isn't as often as one might think." Jarod shrugged. "Maybe it's because I never had much of a sex life when I was a younger man. Maybe it's because we are so incredibly intimate in so many other ways. Sex seems almost like an afterthought."
"For the most part," Jarod said seriously. "I'm perfectly content just spending time with you, alone like we are now. Talking or walking in the park, or even just sitting together while we watch television," he smiled warmly. "I especially like it when I stretch out on the couch and pillow my head in your lap. You play with my hair in this absent-minded sort of way that feels really nice."
Parker nodded. "You like the normal things," she agreed.
"It's not just that," Jarod frowned. "I like who I am when we are alone together. I don't have to hide anything. I can say just about anything I want."
"You can't do that with your folks, can you?" Parker said knowingly. She had spent a lifetime carefully choosing her words with her own father.
The pretender shook his head. "There is so much I don't want to explain to them. So much that would only frighten and upset them. I don't have to worry about that with you. You have seen every dark and horrific aspect of my personality. You know all there is to know. There are no secrets between us." Jarod sighed. "There is a great deal of security in the knowledge that no matter what I have done, you haven't judged me in any way."
Miss Parker smiled affectionately and patted Jarod's hand. "Our relationship is slightly Oedipal in nature. Do you realize that?"
Jarod nodded slightly. "You do take really good care of me, Parker. You protect me when you can and let me fail when you feel I need to." He smiled. "You've watched me grow up over these past few years."
Parker ran a tender caress over the stubble on Jarod's jaw. "We are a part of each other, you and I. We are more than friends, closer than partners."
After a heartbeat's worth of pause, Jarod added with a growing smile, "But if you're interested in exploring a sexual aspect of our relationship, I'll be more than glad to oblige."
Parker snickered, "I don't doubt that one bit, Pez-head."
With an exaggerated look of disappointment, Jarod teased, "Is that a 'No'?"
"You're not the only one going crazy on occasion, Wonder-boy," Parker purred. "Especially when you walk around half naked like you are now."
A sly grin spread across Jarod's face. "If you like what you see, feel free to take it for a test drive sometime," he growled invitingly.
"Promise me that you won't have a coronary when I take you up on that offer," Parker chuckled as she pushed away from the table.
Jarod's grin spread. "I like ' when '. ' When ' is a good word. So much more optimistic than the word ' if ', wouldn't you agree?"
With a snort, Parker headed for the door. "Get dressed, Jarod. We have a lot to do before we go up to the big house this evening."
A few minutes later, Parker was in her room pulling a shirt over her head. As she pulled her hair out from under the collar and straightened the cotton over her waistband she became aware of a sound coming from down the hall. Jarod was whistling the theme from "Bonanza".
Smiling happily, Parker sat on her bed to slip a pair of canvass shoes on her feet. It was a full minute before she realized that she had begun to hum the tune as well.
--
"Is that straight?" Jarod asked.
"Up on the left just a smidge," Parker ordered.
Jarod frowned in confusion, "What's a smidge?"
Parker rolled her eyes and reached up to tap one end of the painting so that it hung properly on its anchor. Nodding with satisfaction, she glanced around the room appreciatively. The fairy tale painting had been the last item of décor to go up in the room.
"This looks really nice, Jarod," she said proudly.
"You like it?" he asked warily.
"It's perfect," Parker assured him with a soft touch on his arm.
This had been the last room in the house to be renovated. Once the two of them had set to work, the kitchen had been quickly overhauled. They had then moved to the bathrooms, the bedrooms and the living room. Parker and Jarod had each decorated their own bedrooms and baths. A door had been placed in one wall so that Jarod's room now had its own adjoining bathroom.
The living room had been a joint effort and the subject of much debate for the two weeks they had worked on it. But finally they had agreed on a combination of earthy tones ranging from deep gray to tan. Splashes of rust- colored hues, ceramic vases and a spastically designed rug all blended together for a friendly, warm atmosphere.
They had made love a handful of times in the weeks since they had first discussed it in the kitchen. The encounters had been more playful than passionate though thoroughly enjoyable and very satisfying for them both. Overall, their sexuality had not altered the relationship in any way. Jarod and Parker each slept in their own rooms at night. Both were perfectly content with the arrangement.
It had been on the new rug, in front of the fire, that Parker had first voiced her ideas for the last room of the house. The two of them had been curled together in the sleepy aftermath of what Jarod now called "test drives".
"You cart too much stuff back and forth in your briefcase, Jarod," she had whispered while playing with the hair on his chest.
Jarod knew that Parker rarely changed the subject so abruptly without a purpose. So he went along with it to find out what she was after, "If I leave the files at the office, I would be at The Centre eighteen ours a day in order to get everything done. This lets me accomplish things here at home."
"You should have an office here," Parker told him. "That way you would have a place to keep extra files."
Jarod smiled. "Do you want to build an office onto the house, Parker?"
"No," Parker whispered. "I thought you could use the studio."
Jarod had been flabbergasted. "You would let me put my things in your mother's studio?" he asked in shock.
"It needs a good cleaning, and a new coat of paint," Parker said. "You'll need to get some furniture and it probably needs to be rewired so that you can install computers and a phone line."
"Parker," Jarod whispered. "I don't know what to say."
"Say it's a good idea." She answered.
"Are you sure?" he argued.
"Positive," Parker said with a nod. "I've thought about it quite a bit."
Jarod had kissed her then. After a long moment he asked, "Have you picked a color scheme for this office?"
"It's yours, Jarod," she smiled. "You get to pick."
Jarod had taken the assignment very seriously, knowing only too well what this gesture represented. Redesigning and furnishing this room had taken the pretender nearly a month. He had done all the work himself, from the electrical wiring to the new woodwork. On more than one occasion, Jarod had spent all night in the room, sanding or painting or putting up new drywall.
The result was a lovely room with dark mahogany woodwork. The faded pattern on the window seat had not changed. The room had been decorated to match that old scrap of fabric. The two large desks were of modern design, crafted to look old, but equipped with hidden compartments for electronic devices. The desks were situated close to each other, each with an elegant leather chair facing one another.
Along one wall was a work counter with a series of built in drawers for files. On the opposite wall was a large cabinet with double doors that contained a copy and fax machine and an assortment of other office paraphernalia.
The large windows had tieback curtains in a deep emerald color that matched the desk pads. These served to accentuate the green of the dancing frog in the painting that had just been re-hung in its place near the window.
The room was tastefully done, functionally practical and yet distinctly Jarod. On the wall above one desk was a glass-encased cabinet like the ones used by miniature collectors. But rather than holding matchbooks or pewter figures, this case held Jarod's favorite Pez dispensers.
The surface of one desk was empty, waiting for Miss Parker's things. But on the other desk were a silver perpetual motion toy, a bright red plastic slinky and a picture frame. In the frame was the black and white image of the two toddlers sitting in the window seat.
Parker smiled as she turned and looked into the next room. The wall she had once erected to close this area off had now been torn down. In its place was a set of sliding wooden panels. When the doors were open, as they were tonight, the two rooms melded into one. But if privacy was needed, the panels easily slid shut.
"It really looks nice," Parker repeated stepping into a quick embrace.
"I'm glad you like it," Jarod murmured into her hair.
"You are the only one who matters in this, " Parker scolded as she brushed a bit of fluff from his black shirt. "You have to work in it."
"I know," Jarod said. "But I want you to approve."
"Well, I do," Parker reassured him. "It looks fabulous."
"You look fabulous," Jarod grinned.
Parker smoothed her hair nervously. "I hope everything goes well tonight," she fretted. "This could be a disaster."
"Lyle isn't coming," Jarod reassured her. "So what could go wrong?"
Parker scoffed and strode into the dining room to check on the arrangements one more time. They were having a small dinner party. It was the first such gathering that they had held in their home. The only guests in attendance would be family and friends. Not only would Jarod's parents be here, but Sydney and Broots were coming as well. In the past, all interaction between Jarod's two distinct families had been through very brief phone messages.
"They could wind up throttling each other," Parker said in a worried tone.
"Nah," Jarod scoffed. "I made everyone promise to be on their best behavior."
Over the last several weeks, Jarod had found a way to deal with his mother's attempts to direct his decisions. He simply ignored them. Whenever she broached the subject of his moving in with rest of the family, Jarod simply blew her off. More often than not he responded to such inquiries with detailed descriptions of the current work he was doing on the cottage. His mother had quickly gotten the picture and had let the subject drop.
The same was true regarding Emily's new job at The Centre. Jarod had placed her in the media department as a low level assistant. Emily would be given plenty of opportunities to advance her position within the corporate structure. But Jarod had made in quite clear that she would need to earn any promotions. They would not be handed to her.
A plump, dark haired woman cleared her throat discretely to get Miss Parker's attention.
"Yes, Caren?" Parker said in acknowledgement.
"Carl has just arrived with the pastries for desert, Madam," the woman said.
"Thank god," Parker sighed. Entertaining a house full of people was stressful enough. Parker couldn't imagine how harrowing it would have been if she had not decided to have the food catered.
"I found the mail on the kitchen counter. Ma'am," the girl added. "Thought you might like to put it safely away."
"I'll take care of it," Jarod offered, taking the small stack and strolling back toward the office.
The doorbell rang and Parker hurried to open the door. As Broots and his daughter, Debbie, crossed the threshold, Parker turned and saw Jarod leaning casually against his desk. He had a letter opener in one hand and a torn envelop in the other. The pretender was perusing a credit card bill.
Parker smiled happily to herself. Jarod looked so relaxed, so sure of himself. He seemed to be coming to terms with the life he now led. Jarod seemed to be happy. He was at home.
Granted, there would always be times when the darkness of their past would rise up and haunt them. Jarod's sudden aversion to small children was a prime example. For reasons that he had yet to discuss, the pretender had abruptly decided he would never have a family of his own.
"This branch of the Parker family tree has been trimmed," he would say coldly.
In what Parker guessed was a subconscious effort to avoid what he could not have, Jarod had become very sensitive to the presence of children. Jarod and his corporation donated millions to fight for children's rights and he had started the Timothy Foundation to help parents find missing children. But the pretender was easily irritated whenever youngsters were actually in his presence.
Parker understood. She had come to the same conclusion herself quite some time ago. She could not picture herself as someone's mother any more than she could imagine becoming a nun. No child of hers would ever grow up in the shadows of The Centre.
As Parker answered another knock at the door, she caught Jarod's eye and smiled. The pretender's face lit up and his eyes twinkled as he beamed back at her. Parker chuckled.
Yes, there would always be dark days. There would always be nightmares and irrational fears for them both. But together Jarod and Parker could find their way. And one day, one day soon, the good days would begin to come more often than the bad.
Perhaps they already did.
