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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Pretender and its characters don’t belong to me. But since those who do own them won’t use them I’ll just borrow them for a while. I refuse to let Jarod and those he loves stagnate, to whither and die.
-
The Door of Memory
Part 2 - By Phenyx
11/14/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod always found airports depressing. In the past, he had walked alone through nearly every air terminal in the country and had come away feeling empty every time. With no one to see him off, no one to greet him, Jarod had envied his fellow passengers. Each goodbye kiss or welcoming embrace he had witnessed sent spears of loneliness through Jarod’s being.
Since reuniting with his family, Jarod had flown to Chicago twice, arranging the consulting work that he did in order to make a living. When he had returned the first time, his mother had been standing at the arrival gate, looking for him. Jarod had burst into tears as he stepped into her arms. That moment of greeting, the dawning realization that someone was waiting for him, served to close many of the wounds inflicted by the Centre.
Yet, despite the fact that Jarod’s life had radically changed, he still found airports to be disheartening. It was too easy for Jarod to see those who were as he had once been. There weren’t a lot of them, but they were always around. The solitary souls, alone in the world, were as obvious to Jarod as a neon sign.
In his other life, Jarod would have sought them out. He would have eased his loneliness by easing theirs, found friendship with another human being for a few hours. But now Jarod let them go. He was too aware of the crushing desolation he would inflict when he abandoned the temporary companion in order to greet those he had truly come for.
Jarod shifted from one foot to the other. His stance exuded a calm exterior far more relaxed than was accurate. He waited patiently in an area cordoned off for just this purpose. At regular intervals, a knot of people would come down the corridor, passing the posted sign “Ticketed passengers only beyond this point.” Several minutes of confusion would ensue as new arrivals searched the waiting crowd, loved ones were found and hugs were exchanged. Then the wave would pass, the scene would settle down and those who remained would continue waiting.
A polite voice filtered from the overhead speakers, announcing the arrival of the flight from Dover. Jarod tensed. He had a sudden urge to run down the corridor and help disembark the passengers. But he stood his ground.
He abruptly regretted not chartering a flight. He knew Parker hated flying commercial airlines and it would have been a simple enough thing to arrange for a private jet. Then again, travel arrangements had already been made by the time Jarod had even learned that Parker was coming. He’d had no say in the matter. Parker was coming on her terms, with no regard for Jarod’s thoughts on the matter, as usual.
Jarod blinked as he realized he was staring at the two people coming down the long walkway. They must have been the first off the plane. Of course, they would have been in first class after all. Sydney walked quickly despite the carryon bag he hauled behind him. Excitement brightened the older man’s eyes.
Parker, her arms folded across her chest, strode with her standard regal purpose. She had nothing with her, not even a purse, and Jarod knew that they would be making a stop at the luggage claim. She had not changed one bit.
Jarod became aware that he was grinning like an idiot. He couldn’t have wiped the smirk off his face if his life depended upon it. Parker’s steely gray eyes swept the waiting area, looking for him Jarod realized with a start. When her hard gaze met his, something amazing happened. She smiled. It was a well-look-what-we-have-here, resigned kind of grin but Jarod could see the twinkle of mischief it brought to her eyes.
That was when it hit him. The feeling that struck him in that moment was as familiar to him as his own skin. His heart seemed to turn over in his chest, plummeting in a perfect swan dive past his fluttering stomach to crash somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. The first time he had felt this way, Jarod had been in a glass room attached to a series of wires. His reaction to her had not altered in thirty years.
What had changed over the decades had been Jarod’s interpretation of it. As a boy, he’d attributed the twisting in his chest to excitement, happiness at the chance to share this special friendship. When he’d been a young man, watching Parker stroll by without comment, Jarod had felt disappointment and pain in the sensation. During the years that she had pursued him, Jarod recognized it as fear, near panic, brought on by her proximity.
What the feeling instilled in Jarod today was much closer to what he had experienced the last time he had suffered such an onslaught. The butterflies in his stomach now had little to do with fear or disappointment. Heat rose to his cheeks as his mind treated him to the image he’d witnessed the last time he’d felt this way.
Parker had been silhouetted behind a screen, removing her shirt with agonizing slowness. Her slender body had been visible and yet not. She had been tantalizingly close, yet too far way to touch. The sensation he’d felt that day had been pure lust. Jarod had wanted her. If Ocee had not interrupted them, Jarod would have taken everything Parker was willing to give.
Jarod found himself wanting to erase the two years that separated them. He wanted to forget the dismal goodbye they had shared over the phone. He wanted to ignore the pain-filled moments in that damned limousine. He wanted to go back to the cabin, sitting in front of the fire, while Parker looked at him with softness in her eyes.
“You are always with me,” her voice whispered through his mind. “Always,” he vowed silently. Be it a hundred years or a million miles, no separation would ever sever the connection Jarod felt with this woman. He wished she could feel the same for him.
“Jarod!” Sydney called with an enthusiastic wave.
Then Jarod was among those he had once envied, rushing from his post to hug the older man. It felt good, really good, to wrap his arms around the man who had raised him. Sydney’s voice, gruff with emotion, was warm and filled with sincere affection.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Sydney said. With a firm pat on the back, he pulled away and took a hard look as his protégé. “You look well, Jarod.”
“I am,” Jarod smiled. “I’m happy. But I have missed you.” He glanced at Parker and she arched one perfect eyebrow at him.
“You’ve cut your hair,” she declared.
Jarod ran one hand across his head and shrugged. “Looks more respectable this way.” Frankly it astonished him that she had noticed.
“Sure,” she drawled knowingly. “You probably got tired of pushing it out of your eyes.”
Jarod chuckled, preferring to laugh rather than examine how well she knew him. “It’s nice to see you too Miss Parker,” he said with a mocking bow.
“Yea. Right.” Her tone seemed to indicate disbelief.
Tossing her a sidelong glance, Jarod teased. “Are you armed?”
“Too much trouble getting a firearm through security these days,” she answered with a shake of her head.
Jarod laughed again. “Then I really am glad to see you Miss Parker.” Before he could think about it too closely, Jarod gave in to an impulse, leaning forward to kiss Parker’s cheek. He half expected her to deck him for it, but the flowery tantalizing aroma that briefly surrounded him was well worth a black eye.
Jarod felt Parker stiffen at the contact and he braced himself for a blow. But she didn’t hit him. With his heart thudding painfully, Jarod tried to fathom what was going on behind those hard eyes. An emotion flashed across Parker’s face, too quickly for him to fully interpret it. Stepping back, Jarod put some space between them before she could push him away.
An uncomfortable tension rose, weaving its way around the trio. Within seconds, Jarod’s mind had flashed through a half dozen ways of handling the awkward situation. He chose an old standard. He grinned his most appealing smile, shrugged innocently and quickly changed the subject.
“Should we fetch your bags?” Jarod asked benignly. “Or shall we divide and conquer? You can grab your luggage while I bring the car around.”
Parker made a rude noise. “No way am I letting you out of my sight, Rat. I have no desire to be stranded on the edge of America’s back forty.”
“Parker,” Jarod gasped dramatically. “I wouldn’t dream of abandoning you here.” He paused momentarily for effect. “It will be far more effective when I kick you out of the car in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’re still a smart-ass, aren’t you?” she asked.
The cocky grin on Jarod’s face didn’t falter. “My mother calls it boyish charm.”
“I’ll have to dispel that misconception for her while I’m here,” Parker grumped.
Jarod’s delight bubbled forth in laughter. “Good luck,” he said as he began to walk in the direction of the luggage carousels. “My mother thinks I’m pretty wonderful.”
“I’m sure I can come up with a few tales that may dent your image,” she purred. “I could always make up something truly horrid.”
Turning so that he could look at his companions while he walked backward, Jarod said, “You wouldn’t lie to my family would you Parker?”
“I have to do something to even the scales,” Parker answered. “Lord only knows what kind of delusional information you’ve given them about us.”
“I have always been painfully honest in that regard,” Jarod promised. “I assure you, I’ve told my parents nothing that wasn’t absolutely true.”
“That is what worries me,” she replied.
Jarod laughed. He could see that Miss Parker was only half-joking. She was really concerned about this meeting with his parents. Oddly enough, her anxiety seemed to ease Jarod’s own. If Parker cared what his family thought of her, she wasn’t likely to start ripping into them as he had feared she might. Parker on her best behavior could be an enchanting creature. On a bad day, she was the coldest bitch Jarod had ever had the misfortune to meet. He was glad that his mother would be exposed to Parker’s better side.
The next several minutes were occupied by the mundane task of finding suitcases and trekking to Jarod’s car. They were turning onto the freeway before Parker asked pointedly, “Tell me about this girl.”
“Heather?” Jarod asked.
Parker nodded.
Jarod smiled tenderly as he thought of his brother’s betrothed. “She is very nice,” he said.
“That much I had assumed,” Parker bit in exasperation. “Does she understand the situation?”
“What situation?” Jarod tried for ignorance, knowing it wouldn’t work.
Parker’s sigh of impatience told Jarod that he’d been right. Playing stupid was futile with this woman around.
“She doesn’t really understand Ethan’s gift,” Jarod explained. “Then again, none of us do. But she doesn’t let it frighten her. She accepts it.”
Parker glared at Jarod, silently pressing for more information.
Jarod sighed. “She is a little more needy than you’ll appreciate,” he admitted.
“Needy?” Parker frowned.
“Heather is petite. She has a soft, almost fragile, personality.” Jarod shrugged. “She tends to defer to others.”
“Ethan needs someone who is able to take care of him,” Parker said.
“Actually,” Jarod began. “He seems to thrive on taking care of her. They compliment each other. Together they become an entity stronger than the sum of their individual parts. Watching them together has an allure that I can’t quite explain. It’s like,” he paused, trying to find words to explain the draw he felt toward the couple. “It’s like watching love bloom.”
“You like her,” Parker’s remark was a statement, not a question.
“I like her very much,” Jarod smiled. “Ethan is a lucky man.”
“Do I detect envy in your voice, Jarod?” Sydney asked from the back seat.
“Some,” Jarod admitted. “But it’s not like I’m panting after my brother’s almost-wife. It is what they’ve found together that I envy. Heather’s very sweet but she’s not my type.”
“And what is your type, exactly?” Parker asked.
Jarod shot her a mischievous glance. “Someone vying for sainthood?” he drawled playfully.
Parker snickered.
“An heiress to some huge ice cream empire?” Jarod tried again.
Miss Parker’s genuine smile urged Jarod on.
“A junk-food obsessed, sex maniac?” Jarod said hopefully.
Without batting an eyelash, Parker asked, “All of the above?”
“That will work,” Jarod said with a grin then added, “But I’d prefer a girl with no knowledge of firearms or handcuffs.”
“What have you got against handcuffs?” Parker sniffed, arching one brow regally.
“I never met a pair of shackles I really cared for,” Jarod admitted.
Parker smiled slyly. “You’ve just never met a girl who knew how to use them properly,” she said with a suggestive huskiness in her voice.
Sydney abruptly cleared his throat, indicating embarrassment.
“Uh-oh,” Jarod mumbled. Aloud he said, “We seem to be deviating from the specified rules of the game, Miss Parker.”
“Rules?” she asked softly.
Jarod nodded. “I run, you chase. I taunt, you threaten.”
“The game has changed Jarod,” Parker said. “Those rules don’t apply anymore.”
Jarod shot her a questioning glance. “Then I suppose we’ll need to define new boundaries.”
“Maybe I’ll get to set a few this time around,” Parker growled.
She was making this too easy for him, Jarod thought. His smile grew as he teased her. “You’ve always made the rules Miss Parker,” he said in a playfully condescending tone. “But you know what they say.” Jarod took his eyes from the road long enough to catch her doubtful glare. “Rules were made to be broken.”
“You would know,” she sighed.
“I could never ignore a challenge.” Jarod laughed. What remained of his nervousness vanished abruptly. He knew that there were still some awkward moments in store for them over the next few days. But Jarod didn’t care.
He was having fun.
-
The Door of Memory
Part 2 - By Phenyx
11/14/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod always found airports depressing. In the past, he had walked alone through nearly every air terminal in the country and had come away feeling empty every time. With no one to see him off, no one to greet him, Jarod had envied his fellow passengers. Each goodbye kiss or welcoming embrace he had witnessed sent spears of loneliness through Jarod’s being.
Since reuniting with his family, Jarod had flown to Chicago twice, arranging the consulting work that he did in order to make a living. When he had returned the first time, his mother had been standing at the arrival gate, looking for him. Jarod had burst into tears as he stepped into her arms. That moment of greeting, the dawning realization that someone was waiting for him, served to close many of the wounds inflicted by the Centre.
Yet, despite the fact that Jarod’s life had radically changed, he still found airports to be disheartening. It was too easy for Jarod to see those who were as he had once been. There weren’t a lot of them, but they were always around. The solitary souls, alone in the world, were as obvious to Jarod as a neon sign.
In his other life, Jarod would have sought them out. He would have eased his loneliness by easing theirs, found friendship with another human being for a few hours. But now Jarod let them go. He was too aware of the crushing desolation he would inflict when he abandoned the temporary companion in order to greet those he had truly come for.
Jarod shifted from one foot to the other. His stance exuded a calm exterior far more relaxed than was accurate. He waited patiently in an area cordoned off for just this purpose. At regular intervals, a knot of people would come down the corridor, passing the posted sign “Ticketed passengers only beyond this point.” Several minutes of confusion would ensue as new arrivals searched the waiting crowd, loved ones were found and hugs were exchanged. Then the wave would pass, the scene would settle down and those who remained would continue waiting.
A polite voice filtered from the overhead speakers, announcing the arrival of the flight from Dover. Jarod tensed. He had a sudden urge to run down the corridor and help disembark the passengers. But he stood his ground.
He abruptly regretted not chartering a flight. He knew Parker hated flying commercial airlines and it would have been a simple enough thing to arrange for a private jet. Then again, travel arrangements had already been made by the time Jarod had even learned that Parker was coming. He’d had no say in the matter. Parker was coming on her terms, with no regard for Jarod’s thoughts on the matter, as usual.
Jarod blinked as he realized he was staring at the two people coming down the long walkway. They must have been the first off the plane. Of course, they would have been in first class after all. Sydney walked quickly despite the carryon bag he hauled behind him. Excitement brightened the older man’s eyes.
Parker, her arms folded across her chest, strode with her standard regal purpose. She had nothing with her, not even a purse, and Jarod knew that they would be making a stop at the luggage claim. She had not changed one bit.
Jarod became aware that he was grinning like an idiot. He couldn’t have wiped the smirk off his face if his life depended upon it. Parker’s steely gray eyes swept the waiting area, looking for him Jarod realized with a start. When her hard gaze met his, something amazing happened. She smiled. It was a well-look-what-we-have-here, resigned kind of grin but Jarod could see the twinkle of mischief it brought to her eyes.
That was when it hit him. The feeling that struck him in that moment was as familiar to him as his own skin. His heart seemed to turn over in his chest, plummeting in a perfect swan dive past his fluttering stomach to crash somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. The first time he had felt this way, Jarod had been in a glass room attached to a series of wires. His reaction to her had not altered in thirty years.
What had changed over the decades had been Jarod’s interpretation of it. As a boy, he’d attributed the twisting in his chest to excitement, happiness at the chance to share this special friendship. When he’d been a young man, watching Parker stroll by without comment, Jarod had felt disappointment and pain in the sensation. During the years that she had pursued him, Jarod recognized it as fear, near panic, brought on by her proximity.
What the feeling instilled in Jarod today was much closer to what he had experienced the last time he had suffered such an onslaught. The butterflies in his stomach now had little to do with fear or disappointment. Heat rose to his cheeks as his mind treated him to the image he’d witnessed the last time he’d felt this way.
Parker had been silhouetted behind a screen, removing her shirt with agonizing slowness. Her slender body had been visible and yet not. She had been tantalizingly close, yet too far way to touch. The sensation he’d felt that day had been pure lust. Jarod had wanted her. If Ocee had not interrupted them, Jarod would have taken everything Parker was willing to give.
Jarod found himself wanting to erase the two years that separated them. He wanted to forget the dismal goodbye they had shared over the phone. He wanted to ignore the pain-filled moments in that damned limousine. He wanted to go back to the cabin, sitting in front of the fire, while Parker looked at him with softness in her eyes.
“You are always with me,” her voice whispered through his mind. “Always,” he vowed silently. Be it a hundred years or a million miles, no separation would ever sever the connection Jarod felt with this woman. He wished she could feel the same for him.
“Jarod!” Sydney called with an enthusiastic wave.
Then Jarod was among those he had once envied, rushing from his post to hug the older man. It felt good, really good, to wrap his arms around the man who had raised him. Sydney’s voice, gruff with emotion, was warm and filled with sincere affection.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Sydney said. With a firm pat on the back, he pulled away and took a hard look as his protégé. “You look well, Jarod.”
“I am,” Jarod smiled. “I’m happy. But I have missed you.” He glanced at Parker and she arched one perfect eyebrow at him.
“You’ve cut your hair,” she declared.
Jarod ran one hand across his head and shrugged. “Looks more respectable this way.” Frankly it astonished him that she had noticed.
“Sure,” she drawled knowingly. “You probably got tired of pushing it out of your eyes.”
Jarod chuckled, preferring to laugh rather than examine how well she knew him. “It’s nice to see you too Miss Parker,” he said with a mocking bow.
“Yea. Right.” Her tone seemed to indicate disbelief.
Tossing her a sidelong glance, Jarod teased. “Are you armed?”
“Too much trouble getting a firearm through security these days,” she answered with a shake of her head.
Jarod laughed again. “Then I really am glad to see you Miss Parker.” Before he could think about it too closely, Jarod gave in to an impulse, leaning forward to kiss Parker’s cheek. He half expected her to deck him for it, but the flowery tantalizing aroma that briefly surrounded him was well worth a black eye.
Jarod felt Parker stiffen at the contact and he braced himself for a blow. But she didn’t hit him. With his heart thudding painfully, Jarod tried to fathom what was going on behind those hard eyes. An emotion flashed across Parker’s face, too quickly for him to fully interpret it. Stepping back, Jarod put some space between them before she could push him away.
An uncomfortable tension rose, weaving its way around the trio. Within seconds, Jarod’s mind had flashed through a half dozen ways of handling the awkward situation. He chose an old standard. He grinned his most appealing smile, shrugged innocently and quickly changed the subject.
“Should we fetch your bags?” Jarod asked benignly. “Or shall we divide and conquer? You can grab your luggage while I bring the car around.”
Parker made a rude noise. “No way am I letting you out of my sight, Rat. I have no desire to be stranded on the edge of America’s back forty.”
“Parker,” Jarod gasped dramatically. “I wouldn’t dream of abandoning you here.” He paused momentarily for effect. “It will be far more effective when I kick you out of the car in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’re still a smart-ass, aren’t you?” she asked.
The cocky grin on Jarod’s face didn’t falter. “My mother calls it boyish charm.”
“I’ll have to dispel that misconception for her while I’m here,” Parker grumped.
Jarod’s delight bubbled forth in laughter. “Good luck,” he said as he began to walk in the direction of the luggage carousels. “My mother thinks I’m pretty wonderful.”
“I’m sure I can come up with a few tales that may dent your image,” she purred. “I could always make up something truly horrid.”
Turning so that he could look at his companions while he walked backward, Jarod said, “You wouldn’t lie to my family would you Parker?”
“I have to do something to even the scales,” Parker answered. “Lord only knows what kind of delusional information you’ve given them about us.”
“I have always been painfully honest in that regard,” Jarod promised. “I assure you, I’ve told my parents nothing that wasn’t absolutely true.”
“That is what worries me,” she replied.
Jarod laughed. He could see that Miss Parker was only half-joking. She was really concerned about this meeting with his parents. Oddly enough, her anxiety seemed to ease Jarod’s own. If Parker cared what his family thought of her, she wasn’t likely to start ripping into them as he had feared she might. Parker on her best behavior could be an enchanting creature. On a bad day, she was the coldest bitch Jarod had ever had the misfortune to meet. He was glad that his mother would be exposed to Parker’s better side.
The next several minutes were occupied by the mundane task of finding suitcases and trekking to Jarod’s car. They were turning onto the freeway before Parker asked pointedly, “Tell me about this girl.”
“Heather?” Jarod asked.
Parker nodded.
Jarod smiled tenderly as he thought of his brother’s betrothed. “She is very nice,” he said.
“That much I had assumed,” Parker bit in exasperation. “Does she understand the situation?”
“What situation?” Jarod tried for ignorance, knowing it wouldn’t work.
Parker’s sigh of impatience told Jarod that he’d been right. Playing stupid was futile with this woman around.
“She doesn’t really understand Ethan’s gift,” Jarod explained. “Then again, none of us do. But she doesn’t let it frighten her. She accepts it.”
Parker glared at Jarod, silently pressing for more information.
Jarod sighed. “She is a little more needy than you’ll appreciate,” he admitted.
“Needy?” Parker frowned.
“Heather is petite. She has a soft, almost fragile, personality.” Jarod shrugged. “She tends to defer to others.”
“Ethan needs someone who is able to take care of him,” Parker said.
“Actually,” Jarod began. “He seems to thrive on taking care of her. They compliment each other. Together they become an entity stronger than the sum of their individual parts. Watching them together has an allure that I can’t quite explain. It’s like,” he paused, trying to find words to explain the draw he felt toward the couple. “It’s like watching love bloom.”
“You like her,” Parker’s remark was a statement, not a question.
“I like her very much,” Jarod smiled. “Ethan is a lucky man.”
“Do I detect envy in your voice, Jarod?” Sydney asked from the back seat.
“Some,” Jarod admitted. “But it’s not like I’m panting after my brother’s almost-wife. It is what they’ve found together that I envy. Heather’s very sweet but she’s not my type.”
“And what is your type, exactly?” Parker asked.
Jarod shot her a mischievous glance. “Someone vying for sainthood?” he drawled playfully.
Parker snickered.
“An heiress to some huge ice cream empire?” Jarod tried again.
Miss Parker’s genuine smile urged Jarod on.
“A junk-food obsessed, sex maniac?” Jarod said hopefully.
Without batting an eyelash, Parker asked, “All of the above?”
“That will work,” Jarod said with a grin then added, “But I’d prefer a girl with no knowledge of firearms or handcuffs.”
“What have you got against handcuffs?” Parker sniffed, arching one brow regally.
“I never met a pair of shackles I really cared for,” Jarod admitted.
Parker smiled slyly. “You’ve just never met a girl who knew how to use them properly,” she said with a suggestive huskiness in her voice.
Sydney abruptly cleared his throat, indicating embarrassment.
“Uh-oh,” Jarod mumbled. Aloud he said, “We seem to be deviating from the specified rules of the game, Miss Parker.”
“Rules?” she asked softly.
Jarod nodded. “I run, you chase. I taunt, you threaten.”
“The game has changed Jarod,” Parker said. “Those rules don’t apply anymore.”
Jarod shot her a questioning glance. “Then I suppose we’ll need to define new boundaries.”
“Maybe I’ll get to set a few this time around,” Parker growled.
She was making this too easy for him, Jarod thought. His smile grew as he teased her. “You’ve always made the rules Miss Parker,” he said in a playfully condescending tone. “But you know what they say.” Jarod took his eyes from the road long enough to catch her doubtful glare. “Rules were made to be broken.”
“You would know,” she sighed.
“I could never ignore a challenge.” Jarod laughed. What remained of his nervousness vanished abruptly. He knew that there were still some awkward moments in store for them over the next few days. But Jarod didn’t care.
He was having fun.
