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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property
of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No profit has been made...you know the drill.
Of Envy and Darkness
03/14/04
Part10 – By Phenyx
-
“How do I look?” Jarod asked nervously.
Mercedes rose from her position on the couch and smiled. “As handsome as always,” she purred.
Jarod smoothed down his tie with one hand and tugged at his jacket with the other. “The suit isn’t too much is it?” he said with a frown.
“Nonsense,” Mercedes replied as she straightened the pretender’s tie.
Parker watched the scene silently, clenching her jaw in irritation. Why was Mercedes always messing with his tie? It looked much better the way Jarod always tied it, just a fraction of an inch off-center. Never crooked enough to be overtly noticeable, Parker felt that the minute tilt in the silk was the manifestation of Jarod’s boyish side.
It was that boy who gazed across the room at Miss Parker now.
“The suit’s too much,” he said, more as a statement than a question.
Parker rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You could be wearing a burlap sack,” she groaned. “Your mother won’t care.”
“I’m going to change,” Jarod declared. He spun on his heel and practically ran from the room.
“Wait, Jarod!” Mercedes started after him.
“Don’t,” Parker snapped. “He’s a big bundle of nervous energy. Let him burn some of it off by fretting over his clothes.”
Mercedes’ brow furrowed with concern. “I’ve never seen him so,” she paused, searching for the right word. “Restless.”
Parker’s jaw gaped in astonishment. “Are we talking about the same pretender?” she gasped. “This is the guy who will eat sugar straight from the cane and then climb the walls for an hour.”
“He doesn’t let me see that side of his personality,” the African woman said with a sigh.
“Maybe you just choose not to see it,” Parker observed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mercedes’ voice rose.
Sam entered the room, forestalling any response Miss Parker may have made. Tension between the two women had been getting steadily worse in the two days since Major Charles had appeared in the Centre’s lobby. Jarod, too wrapped up by the prospect of finally meeting his mother, was oblivious to the strain. But the sweeper had noticed. It made him decidedly uncomfortable to be in the same room with both ladies.
“Sam,” Parker said as a form of greeting. “What kept you?” she asked, glancing meaningfully at her watch.
“Jarod asked me to change,” the sweeper gestured to the jeans and blue windbreaker that made up his current attire. “He said he didn’t want to spook anyone.”
Parker nodded. “Don’t let him ditch you, Sam. He may try to give you the slip.”
“I’ll do my best,” Sam promised. “But if he really doesn’t want me going...”
“I know,” Parker sighed. “And frankly, I wouldn’t blame him. But we need to be cautious.” Sam nodded his understanding.
“How’s this?” Jarod called as he bounded back into the room. He held his arms out and modeled for his audience. The pretender now wore smooth black jeans and a deep rust colored sweater. He had replaced his polished dress shoes with a favored pair of worn boots. With his disheveled hair and leather jacket, Jarod made for an appealing vision.
“Perfect,” Miss Parker smiled indulgently.
Jarod grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Since the Major’s arrival, the pretender had been practically walking on air. When his father had told him that the rest of his family had found one another, Jarod had whooped for joy. Major Charles had left for Georgia this morning, giving Jarod enough time to rearrange his work schedule before joining his folks for a visit. Parker suspected that the older man had wanted to brief the rest of the family about the Centre’s new chairman.
Glancing at his watch, Jarod rocked anxiously from one foot to the other. “It’s almost time to go,” he said. “I’ll be back Monday.”
“Sure you will,” Parker scoffed. “If you’re not back in a week, I’m sending out a search party.”
The pretender beamed. “Yes, Ma’am,” he snickered gleefully.
Mercedes stepped forward and brushed a stray bit of fluff from Jarod’s shoulder. “I understand your enthusiasm,” she said. “But remember your position. Your behavior should properly reflect your status.”
Jarod straightened, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. For Parker, it was easy to see the pretender donning his role of chairman the way other men pull on a coat. The boy that had been smiling at her a moment ago vanished and was replaced by a formidable businessman.
“Get the best deal you can from the Los Angeles delegation,” he told Mercedes in a crisp voice. “You can increase the offer by three quarters of a percent if pressed. If they ask for more than that, just let them walk.”
The woman’s dark eyes lowered in a slight bow of obedience.
“Let’s go, Sam,” Jarod called over his shoulder as he turned and left the room without a backward glance.
Parker waited until the front door had closed behind the departing men. Then she turned to Mercedes and hissed, “If you ever do that again, I will break every bone in your body.”
Mercedes frowned. She could feel the rage radiating from Miss Parker like heat from a furnace. “Do what?” the black woman asked.
“Scold him for being so excited,” Parker growled. She clenched her hands into fists in a feeble attempt to rein in her anger. “You can’t possibly understand what he’s going through right now.”
“I think I have a reasonable grasp of the situation,” Mercedes replied. “But he must not forget who he is.”
“Who you want him to be, you mean.” The fragile thread of control Miss Parker had on her temper abruptly snapped and her voice took on an icy chill.
“He’s the chairman,” Mercedes reiterated.
Parker stalked threateningly toward the other woman. Her anger blinded her to everything else. Mercedes, whether she knew it or not, was attempting to squelch the very spark that made Jarod special. Parker’s Ice Queen, in all her fury, suddenly resurfaced to protect him. “He isn’t the chairman you were hoping for,” she purred cruelly. “Adama is dead.”
Mercedes flinched as though she’d been slapped.
Miss Parker advanced, seething with rage. “You can’t turn Jarod into your dead husband,” she drawled coldly. “Oh, he will try to be what you want. He is so eager to please that he will really try. But Jarod just can’t replicate Adama’s blind ambition.”
“Stop it, Parker,” Mercedes voice trembled.
“No,” Parker snapped. “I won’t let you use him anymore.”
Dark eyes, bright with fury, glared across the room. “It isn’t like that between us,” Mercedes said.
Stepping closer, Parker continued her onslaught. “Tell me. Whose name do you call out when you’re in bed? How many times have you called him Adama by mistake?”
The dark woman swallowed hard.
“At least once I gather,” Parker’s lips curled in a vicious smirk.
Mercedes’ ire rose to the challenge. “I’ll tell you one thing, Miss Parker,” she cooed. “Jarod never forgets who he is with. It’s my name he whispers in the dark, no one else’s. Certainly not yours.”
Nearly snarling with frustration, Parker reached out and grabbed the other woman’s arm without thinking. The heightened emotions of both women served to strengthen each one’s gift. A snapping tingle of electricity raced up Parker’s arm from the point of contact. Their surroundings abruptly vanished and they were plunged into darkness.
Parker couldn’t see. There was blackness all around. But a familiar scent bombarded her. It was the warm, sweet yet tangy aroma of suede, aftershave and a trace of koolaid-like sugariness. It was Jarod’s scent, one Parker had detected often during the years. But never before had she been so submersed in it. The fragrance surrounded her like a heavy quilt, as though the essence of him was burying her.
Parker felt strong fingers brush lightly across her stomach, along the valley between her breasts and up her neck to caress her lips. The touch seemed so real, so enticing that it brought goose bumps to Parker’s flesh. Her mind cried out, struggling to protect herself from the sensations Mercedes was thrusting into her mind.
Parker lashed out with her own gift, searching, probing the darkness like a blind creature. A voice echoed back at her, the delighted, uninhibited laughter of a boy. The sound lilted through the darkness, circling her again and again. “Cree craw toad’s foot geese walk barefoot,” the child sang.
The timber suddenly deepened into that of a man. “Cute, Parker, “he purred seductively. “Not funny but cute.”
Jarod’s voice continued through their mind. “Missing pieces... You send too much time in graveyards. I remember.“The flow of words increased, overlapping until they tumbled into nonsense. “Remember. It’s supposed to be that way. Read the card. First kiss. I run. Kiss. Storm outside. EndinguptoyouChaseSupposedtobe.”
With a wrenching jolt, Parker blinked and the darkness was gone. She looked up and saw Mercedes leaning against the wall, rubbing her arm were Parker had grabbed her. The other woman gazed at Parker with a look of stunned confusion.
“Why?” Mercedes asked.
The venom in Parker’s anger slipped away. How was she to explain her feelings to this woman, when she could barely fathom them herself? Sighing wearily Parker asked, “Do you love him?”
“He’s a good man,” Mercedes replied. “And I care about him.”
“You don’t love him,” Parker said.
“No,” Mercedes admitted. “He doesn’t love me either.”
Parker shook her head sadly, “But don’t you see? He will try to. In his mind, people who share a bed are supposed to love one another. He will try to love you because he thinks he should.”
The other woman’s dark eyes pooled with moisture. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.
“I know. And I understand, truly I do. But in pretending to be a couple, you are both alone,” Parker argued. “You and Jarod are simply sharing your loneliness. In the long run, you’ll only make matters worse. You will prolong your grief rather than accepting it.”
Mercedes stared at the floor for a long moment, thinking. Parker had turned and was about to leave the room when the other woman spoke. “He deserves more,” she said tenderly.
“He always has,” Parker agreed as she walked away.
--
Jarod hadn’t come back to Delaware on Monday morning. He was currently a full five days overdue. But Parker wasn’t worried. She had promised him a week before she went looking for him. A week he would get.
With a little luck, the pretender wouldn’t reappear for another day or two. Parker needed the extra time to get organized. She wanted to be well situated before Jarod returned and discovered what she had done.
After the argument with Mercedes, Parker had marched to her room, packed her things and moved out. With poor Kurt in tow, she had gone back to her little house on Mountainspring road. The sweeper was now living in the guest room, functioning as her bodyguard around the clock.
It had taken several days to air the house out, and even longer to get it properly cleaned. But Parker had felt that this was for the best. To be honest, it felt sinfully good to be home.
“Where would you like this box, Miss Parker?” Sydney asked. The aging psychiatrist had volunteered his Saturday afternoon to help transport the last of her things from the mansion. Not that Parker really needed the older man’s help, with four burly sweepers at her command. Yet, she was glad to have the company.
“Take it back to the bedroom,” she answered. “Kurt can show you where he’s piling stuff.” Using the soft cloth in her hand, Parker wiped a stray fingerprint off the glass of the picture frame she held. She carefully placed the photo on the mantelpiece with the others.
Taking a step back, Parker admired her collection. There was the favorite picture of her mother standing serenely next to the last photo she’d had taken with her father. She had Debbie’s last school portrait and an old snapshot of Thomas. The newest addition to the lineup was a candid shot of Sydney and Jarod taken at some charity function earlier in the month.
“What are you doing?” a harsh voice growled from behind.
Parker jumped, startled at the abrupt noise. Whirling around, she came face to face with a very irate-looking pretender. She hadn’t heard Jarod come in. “Christ, Jarod,” she gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Answer the question,” the pretender snapped.
Purposely stalling for time, Parker dragged her gaze up and down Jarod’s lean form. He was dressed exactly he had been when she last saw him, in a rust colored sweater and black jeans. She frowned as a disturbing suspicion dawned on her.
“You did change your clothes at least once, didn’t you?” Parker asked in exasperation.
“Yes,” Jarod hissed. “And I brushed my teeth and washed behind my ears. Now would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”
Parker shrugged. “It was time to come home,” she said simply.
Jarod eyed her critically, disbelief evident in his frown.
“We couldn’t live the communal life forever,” she added.
Shaking his head, Jarod said, “There’s more to this. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Parker asked innocently.
“Mercedes packs my things and shuttles me back into my own room,” Jarod cried in exasperation. “And in the same breath, she tells me that you’ve moved out completely.”
“Mercedes did what?” Parker gasped.
“She told me that you left on the very night that I headed for Georgia,” Jarod said. The pretender studied Parker’s reactions carefully, frowning in concentration. “What happened? Did you two argue?” he asked with uncanny insight.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Parker admitted.
“I thought you were close,” Jarod said. “You had shared so much.”
Parker glanced away guiltily. “Some things just aren’t for sharing,” she whispered.
Jarod shook his head with a knowing sigh. “It was me, wasn’t it?” he asked. “You argued about me. That’s why she dumped me.”
Parker grimaced. “I’m sorry if anything I have done has caused you pain, Jarod. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt.”
The pretender leaned wearily against the mantle. “Am I hurt?” he asked aloud. “Should I be hurt? I don’t know. I’ve never been dumped before.” Jarod sighed again as he tried to explain. “She’s so alone. There’s this big empty place in her where her husband used to be. I wanted to fill that spot for her, occupy that void and ease her loneliness.”
“Jarod,” Parker tried to hide the anguish in her voice but was not completely successful.
“But I know that I couldn’t,” the pretender went on. “There were always gaps I could not fill. We were like pieces from two different puzzles. No matter how hard you try, they just won’t fit together properly.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
“Come back to the big house with me Miss Parker,” Jarod pleaded softly.
Parker shook her head.
Finally nodding his acceptance, Jarod smiled sadly. “I really enjoyed living with you, Parker,” he said. “I liked seeing you every day.”
“We’ll see each other at work five days a week. Maybe more,” Parker promised.
The pretender turned and headed for the door. “It won’t be the same,” he said gently.
Parker watched him leave, closing the door softly behind him. “That is the point,” she murmured.
“I’m surprised,” Sydney spoke from behind her.
Rolling her eyes Parker scolded, “Eavesdropping is rude, Syd.”
Sydney continued, ignoring her reprimand. “The man is brilliant, and yet he can not see how you feel about him.”
Parker laughed miserably. “He sees,” she said tenderly. “He always did. But I’ve spent the last decade telling him that he was imagining things, that nothing existed between us but childish fantasies. As a result, he does his best to ignore what is there.”
Stepping toward her, Sydney placed a reassuring hand on Parker’s arm. “You could simply tell him,” the psychiatrist suggested.
“Not yet,” Parker shook her head vehemently. “I won’t have him hopping out of her bed and into mine.”
“You risk losing him,” Sydney said.
“It will be worth it in the long run,” Parker stated confidently. “I have to believe that. We’ve suffered so much and come so far. I have to believe there’s been a reason for it all.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sydney replied.
“I am. I have to be.”
of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No profit has been made...you know the drill.
Of Envy and Darkness
03/14/04
Part10 – By Phenyx
-
“How do I look?” Jarod asked nervously.
Mercedes rose from her position on the couch and smiled. “As handsome as always,” she purred.
Jarod smoothed down his tie with one hand and tugged at his jacket with the other. “The suit isn’t too much is it?” he said with a frown.
“Nonsense,” Mercedes replied as she straightened the pretender’s tie.
Parker watched the scene silently, clenching her jaw in irritation. Why was Mercedes always messing with his tie? It looked much better the way Jarod always tied it, just a fraction of an inch off-center. Never crooked enough to be overtly noticeable, Parker felt that the minute tilt in the silk was the manifestation of Jarod’s boyish side.
It was that boy who gazed across the room at Miss Parker now.
“The suit’s too much,” he said, more as a statement than a question.
Parker rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You could be wearing a burlap sack,” she groaned. “Your mother won’t care.”
“I’m going to change,” Jarod declared. He spun on his heel and practically ran from the room.
“Wait, Jarod!” Mercedes started after him.
“Don’t,” Parker snapped. “He’s a big bundle of nervous energy. Let him burn some of it off by fretting over his clothes.”
Mercedes’ brow furrowed with concern. “I’ve never seen him so,” she paused, searching for the right word. “Restless.”
Parker’s jaw gaped in astonishment. “Are we talking about the same pretender?” she gasped. “This is the guy who will eat sugar straight from the cane and then climb the walls for an hour.”
“He doesn’t let me see that side of his personality,” the African woman said with a sigh.
“Maybe you just choose not to see it,” Parker observed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mercedes’ voice rose.
Sam entered the room, forestalling any response Miss Parker may have made. Tension between the two women had been getting steadily worse in the two days since Major Charles had appeared in the Centre’s lobby. Jarod, too wrapped up by the prospect of finally meeting his mother, was oblivious to the strain. But the sweeper had noticed. It made him decidedly uncomfortable to be in the same room with both ladies.
“Sam,” Parker said as a form of greeting. “What kept you?” she asked, glancing meaningfully at her watch.
“Jarod asked me to change,” the sweeper gestured to the jeans and blue windbreaker that made up his current attire. “He said he didn’t want to spook anyone.”
Parker nodded. “Don’t let him ditch you, Sam. He may try to give you the slip.”
“I’ll do my best,” Sam promised. “But if he really doesn’t want me going...”
“I know,” Parker sighed. “And frankly, I wouldn’t blame him. But we need to be cautious.” Sam nodded his understanding.
“How’s this?” Jarod called as he bounded back into the room. He held his arms out and modeled for his audience. The pretender now wore smooth black jeans and a deep rust colored sweater. He had replaced his polished dress shoes with a favored pair of worn boots. With his disheveled hair and leather jacket, Jarod made for an appealing vision.
“Perfect,” Miss Parker smiled indulgently.
Jarod grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Since the Major’s arrival, the pretender had been practically walking on air. When his father had told him that the rest of his family had found one another, Jarod had whooped for joy. Major Charles had left for Georgia this morning, giving Jarod enough time to rearrange his work schedule before joining his folks for a visit. Parker suspected that the older man had wanted to brief the rest of the family about the Centre’s new chairman.
Glancing at his watch, Jarod rocked anxiously from one foot to the other. “It’s almost time to go,” he said. “I’ll be back Monday.”
“Sure you will,” Parker scoffed. “If you’re not back in a week, I’m sending out a search party.”
The pretender beamed. “Yes, Ma’am,” he snickered gleefully.
Mercedes stepped forward and brushed a stray bit of fluff from Jarod’s shoulder. “I understand your enthusiasm,” she said. “But remember your position. Your behavior should properly reflect your status.”
Jarod straightened, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. For Parker, it was easy to see the pretender donning his role of chairman the way other men pull on a coat. The boy that had been smiling at her a moment ago vanished and was replaced by a formidable businessman.
“Get the best deal you can from the Los Angeles delegation,” he told Mercedes in a crisp voice. “You can increase the offer by three quarters of a percent if pressed. If they ask for more than that, just let them walk.”
The woman’s dark eyes lowered in a slight bow of obedience.
“Let’s go, Sam,” Jarod called over his shoulder as he turned and left the room without a backward glance.
Parker waited until the front door had closed behind the departing men. Then she turned to Mercedes and hissed, “If you ever do that again, I will break every bone in your body.”
Mercedes frowned. She could feel the rage radiating from Miss Parker like heat from a furnace. “Do what?” the black woman asked.
“Scold him for being so excited,” Parker growled. She clenched her hands into fists in a feeble attempt to rein in her anger. “You can’t possibly understand what he’s going through right now.”
“I think I have a reasonable grasp of the situation,” Mercedes replied. “But he must not forget who he is.”
“Who you want him to be, you mean.” The fragile thread of control Miss Parker had on her temper abruptly snapped and her voice took on an icy chill.
“He’s the chairman,” Mercedes reiterated.
Parker stalked threateningly toward the other woman. Her anger blinded her to everything else. Mercedes, whether she knew it or not, was attempting to squelch the very spark that made Jarod special. Parker’s Ice Queen, in all her fury, suddenly resurfaced to protect him. “He isn’t the chairman you were hoping for,” she purred cruelly. “Adama is dead.”
Mercedes flinched as though she’d been slapped.
Miss Parker advanced, seething with rage. “You can’t turn Jarod into your dead husband,” she drawled coldly. “Oh, he will try to be what you want. He is so eager to please that he will really try. But Jarod just can’t replicate Adama’s blind ambition.”
“Stop it, Parker,” Mercedes voice trembled.
“No,” Parker snapped. “I won’t let you use him anymore.”
Dark eyes, bright with fury, glared across the room. “It isn’t like that between us,” Mercedes said.
Stepping closer, Parker continued her onslaught. “Tell me. Whose name do you call out when you’re in bed? How many times have you called him Adama by mistake?”
The dark woman swallowed hard.
“At least once I gather,” Parker’s lips curled in a vicious smirk.
Mercedes’ ire rose to the challenge. “I’ll tell you one thing, Miss Parker,” she cooed. “Jarod never forgets who he is with. It’s my name he whispers in the dark, no one else’s. Certainly not yours.”
Nearly snarling with frustration, Parker reached out and grabbed the other woman’s arm without thinking. The heightened emotions of both women served to strengthen each one’s gift. A snapping tingle of electricity raced up Parker’s arm from the point of contact. Their surroundings abruptly vanished and they were plunged into darkness.
Parker couldn’t see. There was blackness all around. But a familiar scent bombarded her. It was the warm, sweet yet tangy aroma of suede, aftershave and a trace of koolaid-like sugariness. It was Jarod’s scent, one Parker had detected often during the years. But never before had she been so submersed in it. The fragrance surrounded her like a heavy quilt, as though the essence of him was burying her.
Parker felt strong fingers brush lightly across her stomach, along the valley between her breasts and up her neck to caress her lips. The touch seemed so real, so enticing that it brought goose bumps to Parker’s flesh. Her mind cried out, struggling to protect herself from the sensations Mercedes was thrusting into her mind.
Parker lashed out with her own gift, searching, probing the darkness like a blind creature. A voice echoed back at her, the delighted, uninhibited laughter of a boy. The sound lilted through the darkness, circling her again and again. “Cree craw toad’s foot geese walk barefoot,” the child sang.
The timber suddenly deepened into that of a man. “Cute, Parker, “he purred seductively. “Not funny but cute.”
Jarod’s voice continued through their mind. “Missing pieces... You send too much time in graveyards. I remember.“The flow of words increased, overlapping until they tumbled into nonsense. “Remember. It’s supposed to be that way. Read the card. First kiss. I run. Kiss. Storm outside. EndinguptoyouChaseSupposedtobe.”
With a wrenching jolt, Parker blinked and the darkness was gone. She looked up and saw Mercedes leaning against the wall, rubbing her arm were Parker had grabbed her. The other woman gazed at Parker with a look of stunned confusion.
“Why?” Mercedes asked.
The venom in Parker’s anger slipped away. How was she to explain her feelings to this woman, when she could barely fathom them herself? Sighing wearily Parker asked, “Do you love him?”
“He’s a good man,” Mercedes replied. “And I care about him.”
“You don’t love him,” Parker said.
“No,” Mercedes admitted. “He doesn’t love me either.”
Parker shook her head sadly, “But don’t you see? He will try to. In his mind, people who share a bed are supposed to love one another. He will try to love you because he thinks he should.”
The other woman’s dark eyes pooled with moisture. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.
“I know. And I understand, truly I do. But in pretending to be a couple, you are both alone,” Parker argued. “You and Jarod are simply sharing your loneliness. In the long run, you’ll only make matters worse. You will prolong your grief rather than accepting it.”
Mercedes stared at the floor for a long moment, thinking. Parker had turned and was about to leave the room when the other woman spoke. “He deserves more,” she said tenderly.
“He always has,” Parker agreed as she walked away.
--
Jarod hadn’t come back to Delaware on Monday morning. He was currently a full five days overdue. But Parker wasn’t worried. She had promised him a week before she went looking for him. A week he would get.
With a little luck, the pretender wouldn’t reappear for another day or two. Parker needed the extra time to get organized. She wanted to be well situated before Jarod returned and discovered what she had done.
After the argument with Mercedes, Parker had marched to her room, packed her things and moved out. With poor Kurt in tow, she had gone back to her little house on Mountainspring road. The sweeper was now living in the guest room, functioning as her bodyguard around the clock.
It had taken several days to air the house out, and even longer to get it properly cleaned. But Parker had felt that this was for the best. To be honest, it felt sinfully good to be home.
“Where would you like this box, Miss Parker?” Sydney asked. The aging psychiatrist had volunteered his Saturday afternoon to help transport the last of her things from the mansion. Not that Parker really needed the older man’s help, with four burly sweepers at her command. Yet, she was glad to have the company.
“Take it back to the bedroom,” she answered. “Kurt can show you where he’s piling stuff.” Using the soft cloth in her hand, Parker wiped a stray fingerprint off the glass of the picture frame she held. She carefully placed the photo on the mantelpiece with the others.
Taking a step back, Parker admired her collection. There was the favorite picture of her mother standing serenely next to the last photo she’d had taken with her father. She had Debbie’s last school portrait and an old snapshot of Thomas. The newest addition to the lineup was a candid shot of Sydney and Jarod taken at some charity function earlier in the month.
“What are you doing?” a harsh voice growled from behind.
Parker jumped, startled at the abrupt noise. Whirling around, she came face to face with a very irate-looking pretender. She hadn’t heard Jarod come in. “Christ, Jarod,” she gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Answer the question,” the pretender snapped.
Purposely stalling for time, Parker dragged her gaze up and down Jarod’s lean form. He was dressed exactly he had been when she last saw him, in a rust colored sweater and black jeans. She frowned as a disturbing suspicion dawned on her.
“You did change your clothes at least once, didn’t you?” Parker asked in exasperation.
“Yes,” Jarod hissed. “And I brushed my teeth and washed behind my ears. Now would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”
Parker shrugged. “It was time to come home,” she said simply.
Jarod eyed her critically, disbelief evident in his frown.
“We couldn’t live the communal life forever,” she added.
Shaking his head, Jarod said, “There’s more to this. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Parker asked innocently.
“Mercedes packs my things and shuttles me back into my own room,” Jarod cried in exasperation. “And in the same breath, she tells me that you’ve moved out completely.”
“Mercedes did what?” Parker gasped.
“She told me that you left on the very night that I headed for Georgia,” Jarod said. The pretender studied Parker’s reactions carefully, frowning in concentration. “What happened? Did you two argue?” he asked with uncanny insight.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Parker admitted.
“I thought you were close,” Jarod said. “You had shared so much.”
Parker glanced away guiltily. “Some things just aren’t for sharing,” she whispered.
Jarod shook his head with a knowing sigh. “It was me, wasn’t it?” he asked. “You argued about me. That’s why she dumped me.”
Parker grimaced. “I’m sorry if anything I have done has caused you pain, Jarod. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt.”
The pretender leaned wearily against the mantle. “Am I hurt?” he asked aloud. “Should I be hurt? I don’t know. I’ve never been dumped before.” Jarod sighed again as he tried to explain. “She’s so alone. There’s this big empty place in her where her husband used to be. I wanted to fill that spot for her, occupy that void and ease her loneliness.”
“Jarod,” Parker tried to hide the anguish in her voice but was not completely successful.
“But I know that I couldn’t,” the pretender went on. “There were always gaps I could not fill. We were like pieces from two different puzzles. No matter how hard you try, they just won’t fit together properly.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
“Come back to the big house with me Miss Parker,” Jarod pleaded softly.
Parker shook her head.
Finally nodding his acceptance, Jarod smiled sadly. “I really enjoyed living with you, Parker,” he said. “I liked seeing you every day.”
“We’ll see each other at work five days a week. Maybe more,” Parker promised.
The pretender turned and headed for the door. “It won’t be the same,” he said gently.
Parker watched him leave, closing the door softly behind him. “That is the point,” she murmured.
“I’m surprised,” Sydney spoke from behind her.
Rolling her eyes Parker scolded, “Eavesdropping is rude, Syd.”
Sydney continued, ignoring her reprimand. “The man is brilliant, and yet he can not see how you feel about him.”
Parker laughed miserably. “He sees,” she said tenderly. “He always did. But I’ve spent the last decade telling him that he was imagining things, that nothing existed between us but childish fantasies. As a result, he does his best to ignore what is there.”
Stepping toward her, Sydney placed a reassuring hand on Parker’s arm. “You could simply tell him,” the psychiatrist suggested.
“Not yet,” Parker shook her head vehemently. “I won’t have him hopping out of her bed and into mine.”
“You risk losing him,” Sydney said.
“It will be worth it in the long run,” Parker stated confidently. “I have to believe that. We’ve suffered so much and come so far. I have to believe there’s been a reason for it all.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sydney replied.
“I am. I have to be.”
