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Chapter or Story
The Visit - by MMB
Chapter 8 - Movement
Miss Parker opened her eyes sleepily and then stretched in the early morning light. She felt rested but not completely refreshed because her sleep had been broken - as usual. But she was proud of herself. She'd done it again - caught herself before she'd slipped completely into her nightly bout of terror and awakened herself before she could make any noise to awaken her Papa too. This time, however, Papa had managed to stay asleep rather than rouse out of habit while she had prowled the living room and stared out at the nighttime boulevard for a long time. One day she hoped that she, too, would sleep the night through uninterrupted. But for now, she was content to know that Papa had.
Now that she was genuinely beginning to feel better, she was starting to become quite protective of her Papa's health. She had only just found him - only just started to discover and revel in the joy and security of knowing the unconditional love shared between parent and child - and there was absolutely nothing and nobody in her world right now that was more important to her. All the devotion she'd once showered on the memory of her mother was now pouring out for and on her Papa, and to her delight was being returned to her in full measure. She was happier now than she'd been since her mother's abrupt departure from her life, and all of that happiness was wrapped in an aging body that had already faltered once.
She slipped from beneath her sheet and light blanket and reached for her velour robe. She could smell the first, tenuous wafts from the coffeepot in the kitchen. It didn't surprise her that Papa was already up - he was, she knew, a creature of habit accustomed to rising early in the morning. She zipped the robe, dragged her fingers through her tumbled curls to give them at least the illusion of order, and padded down the hallway and into the kitchen with bare feet. "Sleep well?" she asked pointedly. She deposited a kiss on his cheek as she reached past him into the cupboard for a pair of coffee mugs.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he answered her with an assessing look, not missing the dusting of dark beneath her eyes. "But you didn't, I take it?"
She glanced at him sharply, knowing better than to try to placate him. He simply knew how to read her like an open book - and always had, she had to admit. "I woke up in the middle of the night and had a hard time getting back to sleep," she admitted. "It wasn't anything urgent, though, and I didn't want to awaken you."
"Parker..."
"No," she shook her head at him firmly. "I've lived with nightmares most of my life, Papa. At least NOW I can wake up before they get far enough along that I CAN'T wake up, and end up waking you up with my screaming. That's progress." She turned with a full coffee mug in one hand and ran her free hand over his forearm. "It means you don't have to be on call 24/7 anymore. I'm not on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown anymore, and you deserve a break. Besides, it isn't good for you anyway to not be getting your proper rest." Her determined grey eyes met and held his startled chestnut gaze. "You've taken care of me - now it's my turn to take care of you a little bit."
"I know you mean well, but I'd really rather you did wake me up, ma petite," Sydney insisted, taking up the second mug and filling it with coffee. "Part of the reason you're coming out from under your cloud so successfully is that we've worked on the little problems immediately, the moment they pop up." He frowned at her while he took a seat at the kitchen table. "Sometimes, that moment happens in the middle of the night. You know that."
"I know, but..."
"But..."
"I don't like the way this is wearing you down," she complained truthfully, letting her concern show. "You aren't getting the rest you need, and it's starting to show and worry me."
"Come here." Sydney put out his hand to his daughter, and then tugged when she willingly put her hand in his. "Sit down." He waited patiently until she did as he had asked. "Now listen to me. I told you that I knew what I was getting myself into, didn't I?"
"Papa..."
"No." He shook a finger at her. "It's my turn now. When I told you I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, that included knowing that there was going to come a time during which neither one of us would be getting the kind of rest we needed. It's obvious now that your nightmares hold the keys to a large portion of what nearly killed you - and as hard as they are on you, I need them to help me understand and help you get rid of them. I need to be there when they happen - there is a moment when the underlying problem causing the trouble is just below the surface."
"But it isn't worth it if you wear yourself out and have another heart attack," Parker worried back at him. "I don't think I could live with myself anymore if you were to make yourself ill trying to help me."
"Ma petite worry-wart, I'm not going to have another heart attack," he reassured her and then reached out to pull her head forward so he could kiss her forehead. "But if it would help make you feel any better, I'll start taking a longer nap in the afternoon to make up for the rest I lose in the middle of the night."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes," he chuckled at the seriousness on her face, "I swear, Parker. Now, whose turn is it to make breakfast?"
"This isn't funny, Papa," Parker protested.
"I know it isn't, sweetheart - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. But you don't seem to understand that my just being sleepy isn't going to hurt me half as much as your not getting to the roots of your nightmares will harm you eventually. Promise me you'll call me from now on." He brushed back an errant curl gently. "Neither of us is working and having to keep to a normal schedule, so if we start making a habit of being up a two in the morning, there's nobody to criticize or complain. We BOTH can nap in the afternoon, for that matter."
"Papa..."
The finger wagged again. "Uh-uhn. I promised I'd nap. So in return now, you promise me you'll call me." The finger moved beneath the chin and propped it up so that she couldn't look away. "Promise me."
"I promise," she conceded reluctantly. "It's just... I don't want to lose you..." Her grey eyes were almost frantic. "I can't lose you - not now!"
The unexpectedness as well as the depth and persistence of her worry astounded him. "What started this?"
She shrugged and picked up her coffee to sip at it. "I got to thinking last night when I couldn't get to sleep that this was always about the point..." She sighed. "Every time I start to think everything will be OK, and that it was safe for me to REALLY love someone, something unexpected would come along and then I'd be alone again..."
Sydney shook his head gently. "I should have known that your abandonment issues had only been dealt with superficially. Listen to me, cheri. My health isn't that fragile. I've recovered fully from my heart attack, and my cardiologist has been very satisfied with all my test results since then. I'm not going to suddenly drop..."
"Don't say it," she barked, turning slightly pale. "Don't even think it! Tommy did that, just a few days before he was murdered - told me that nothing was going to happen to him, and that he'd will me all his shirts when he was gone..." God, but it hurt to remember that cavalier remark in the face of what had happened only day's later! "And just look at what happened to him..."
He looked at her compassionately. "This is going to be one of those things that are going to take a long time to prove to you - that we're free of Centre tampering in our lives. There's nothing hanging in your destiny just out of sight that is waiting to steal your life away again, ma petite."
"Call it the Parker Jinx, but it's there," she retorted stubbornly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he sighed and scooted his chair closer to her so that he could put his arm around her shoulder. "You're not a Parker anymore, remember? That life is behind you now. You're MY daughter now, and the Green family doesn't have a jinx." He felt her lean and snuggle into him, and he left his coffee mug on the table so he could wrap his other arm around her to complete the embrace. "You know, if you keep looking over your shoulder for the axe to fall, you'll never fully enjoy what you have right now. You have a whole new life in front of you - let it unfold for you in its own time, don't waste time looking back trying to anticipate disaster."
Parker closed her eyes and savored the embrace that surrounded her and the love behind it like a starving person who'd just been given a huge helping of their favorite food. "I don't know how to do that yet, Papa," she admitted in a small voice.
"You'll learn," Sydney reassured her in a gentle voice. "You'll learn. Give it time."
~~~~~~~~
Parker would never know what inspired her Papa to have turned on the TV to watch the news that particular afternoon. Neither one of them were very impressed with the fare offered on what they both agreed was better called an “idiot box.” Papa did, from time to time, turn on the national news to supplement what he read in the Arizona Republic that was delivered to their doorstep every morning. She generally didn't join him, however. Her interests had yet to stretch too much beyond just settling into living with another person, getting to know her new home community and learning about the issues specific to the region.
So she was totally unprepared to hear him bellow out loudly, "Parker! Get in here NOW!"
Still a little sensitive to her own fears and worries, she found herself dashing in from the kitchen, where she'd been taking care of rinsing dishes. "God! What is it?"
"Look!" Sydney pointed to the television screen, and Parker's jaw dropped when the very next shot of the newscast moved to a painfully familiar landmark.
Sydney turned up the volume as the camera panned across the imposing façade of the above-ground facility. "The unfolding scandal of influence-peddling, racketeering, tax evasion and fraudulent government contracts has rocked the Delaware State Attorney General's office and has even sparked a probe into the possibility of Federal charges being leveled against The Centre and its CEO, Mr. William Raines." The newscaster's voice droned on in a typical non-emotional narrative, "An anonymous tip regarding tax evasion and fraud put investigators on the trail of Centre activities over six months ago. But the unexpected delivery of documents detailing Centre business practices has now caught the eye of the FBI and its RICO taskforce."
"Federal warrants were served this morning against several of the ranking executives and employees of the company, including CEO Raines and his assistant, a man evidently known only by the surname Lyle. Lyle is also being held without bail on seemingly unrelated murder charges, although part of the investigation into The Centre's business practices apparently is focusing on witness-tampering and obstruction of justice in regards to the deaths of several Asian women over the past five years in several states." The camera re-focused on the newscaster, behind whom the graphic related to the story changed suddenly from a thumbnail picture of the Centre tower to a drawing of a dollar sign. "This latest bombshell from a corporation considered a pillar in the American business community has rocked Wall Street, where the price of the common share on the New York Exchange has fallen to..."
Parker turned her stunned gaze to Sydney. "Impossible."
He swallowed hard, barely daring to believe that The Centre had indeed been standing on such shaky ground that it would collapse like a house of cards under a stiff breeze. "Remember when I found you in the cemetery?" he reminded her in a shocked voice. "I told you The Centre was falling apart - and urged you to get out before you were taken down with it." His eyes returned to the appliance and he muted the volume. "I meant it, but I swear I didn't think it would happen so FAST..."
She moved around the end of the couch and sat down next to her Papa before her knees could refuse to support her. "They said there was an anonymous tip. You don't suppose..."
Sydney shrugged. "It could have come from anyone, Parker. Even from Broots, if what you said about his being nervous about something that he'd found in the Centre mainframe was true. Broots was always a very ethical person, trapped in a very UNethical situation. This could easily be his revenge for what was done to Debbie, you know..."
Yes, Parker thought to herself, the Broots whose face had been pale with rage in the hospital emergency room could very well have been behind this final chapter in The Centre. "Or it could have been Jarod..." she appended as a second thought.
"No matter where it came from, you do realize what this means, don't you?" Parker was still too stunned to answer, so she just gazed at him. "It means, ma petite, that there will be no late-night visits from Raines and Lyle and Willy, shooting up our apartment and killing me. There's no way for your nightmare to become reality."
"What if the investigation..."
"Parker," he smiled at her. "It's over. Between the FBI, the Delaware Attorney General and everybody else who's been offended by The Centre over the years, there's nobody left to come after you. You're free - we're free."
She shook her head. "Not yet, Papa. We can't let down our guard yet. Not until Raines and Lyle and Willy are put away for good. We can't trust that the Triumvirate won't just buy their way out of jail in order to keep the bloodhounds from finding THEM." She shuddered. "And if they think WE'RE the ones responsible for the leak that got everyone in trouble..."
"They're not going to think that..."
"We don't know that. Papa, please..." Her expression had grown almost frantic again. "Remember the other day, I told you that there seemed to be a point in time when it would appear safe to let down my guard - only to have that be the one time when everything was ready to just fall in... Now here it is again... It looks like The Centre is falling apart, and we start to relax our guard, and then..."
He opened his mouth to console her, but she grabbed his forearm. "We need to get out of here - go away for a while."
"Parker," he began his complaint, knowing that she could easily build her anxiety up into a full-fledged panic attack, "there's no need for us to go anywhere. They don't know where we are to begin with - especially you. Besides, you have a date to have dinner with Paul and..."
"We have to protect him too," she pulled at him frantically. "In my nightmares, he always ended up dead too..."
"Hush." Sydney reached out to her and gathered her close before she could spring to her feet. He clung tightly while she struggled against his embrace. "Slow down, and stop panicking. Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Breathe..."
It took a long time, but finally she was quiet against him. "I'm scared," she finally admitted in a tiny voice.
"I noticed," he told her not unkindly. "But you're going to have to face this one, Parker."
"Papa..."
"Uh-uhn. This is not negotiable. The only way for you to truly learn that you don't have to run or be afraid anymore is for you to stop running. You can do this," he told her, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could. "You'll go over to Paul's Sunday and have a nice meal with them, and then Monday you'll get your driver's license."
"That can wait for a while..."
"No, it can't." He put her away from him so that he could look her in the face. "C'mon, Parker. You're stronger than this, and you know it. We Greens are a hardy lot."
"Not when I have so much to lose again," she countered softly.
"You forget that I have as much to lose as you do now," he reminded her gently. "But I refuse to crawl under a rock when the promise of sunshine has such good odds. We'll be OK, Parker. Trust me."
She did trust him - she DID - it was the rest of the world she was suspicious of. Sydney could see that he hadn't convinced her yet, so he just kissed her forehead and let her go. "Listen to me now. We're not going to change our routine at all," he told her firmly. "They've left us alone for this long, there's no reason to believe that they'll bother us now. Besides, we've not done anything. If they WERE watching us, our not running and drawing attention to ourselves would tell them exactly that."
Parker rose and went back out into the kitchen to finish her task, her mind spinning. For once she was seeing the warning signs for herself, signs that Papa wanted her to disregard. She filled the detergent cup in the dishwasher with the powdered soap and set the dial, hearing the machine pick right up and begin to fill with water. She was anxious, antsy. Sitting around the apartment quietly for the rest of the afternoon just wasn't something she could handle.
"I think I'm going to take a walk," she announced to him as he sat on the couch reading the newspaper.
"Are you OK?" he inquired quickly, reading a deeper meaning in her sudden urge for activity.
"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I'm just feeling the need to DO something right now - if I sit around the apartment, I'm going to stew and get myself all worked up. I thought a combination walk and jog around the complex might help me clear my head and put things in perspective." She put out her hand. "Give me the key, and I'll pick up the mail on my way back in."
"I think it's about time we get you your own set of keys," Sydney commented as he fished in his trousers pocket for his key ring. He caught her hand in his as he dropped the keys into her palm. "Don't be gone too long - and take some water with you. It's warm today. Are you SURE you're OK?"
"I'm just jumpy," she admitted. "And I figured that rather than climbing the walls and driving you nuts, I'd take a hike around the perimeter."
"Just don't tire yourself out too much," he cautioned at her. "You know you still don't have all your strength back."
"I'll be fine, Papa - I promise."
~~~~~~~~
Papa was right - it WAS warm outside, much warmer than it had been that morning during their constitutional walk. Parker headed off down the sidewalk, glad that she'd broken down and bought herself a pair of comfortable sneakers several days ago. The breeze in her hair was warmer than skin-temperature, and her legs moved steadily as she walked down the sidewalk to the broad boulevard and then turned left to skirt the very perimeter of the condominium complex.
Palm and palo verde trees lined the sidewalk next to the boulevard, as usual accenting the fact that this was NOT Delaware, but Arizona. This was her life now - THIS, not that viper's pit that she'd seen for the first time in almost a month on a television news broadcast. The idea that Raines and Lyle were currently housed in cells not much bigger than the ones she knew they'd kept Jarod all those years seemed poetic justice in and of itself. Was Papa right? Had she managed to drop off the radar with him at just the right time and in just the right way that the Triumvirate wouldn't come looking for her? How much longer before she could draw a truly free breath?
There was a bus stop bench at the next corner where she'd be turning left again away from the boulevard, and she seated herself and took a long draught from the small drinking water bottle she'd carried with her. She looked around her, and then across the broad expanse of green grass to the balcony that she knew was theirs. Theirs - now there was a concept that had changed for her. Papa's incorporation of her into his life had been quite complete, and the sense of belonging was part of what she was so desperate to defend. She LIKED her new life, what she'd seen of it and the people with whom she was sharing it. She liked it well enough that she was going to do whatever it would take to hang onto it.
Feeling rested again, she rose and began walking steadily down the side street. Only gradually did she realize that she was comfortable walking down that street alone. The fears and insecurities that hounded her thoughts weren't present unless she deliberately invited them into her mind. She wasn't watching every car that passed lest it hold a pack of sweepers bent on retrieval. She wasn't eyeing other pedestrians to see if they were trying to stake her out or follow her. She was Parker Green, walking down the street near her home as if she belonged - and she did.
Understanding flooded her and made her steps falter and finally halt. Her fears were based in habit, conditioned responses to the poisonous environment in which she'd lived most of her life as Miss Parker. Conditioned responses could only be addressed and eventually reversed by conditioning herself to respond in new ways - a process that required time and persistence. That explained Papa's refusal to allow the news to change any part of the life they had now. He was right - she had to re-learn how to interact with life in terms that didn't include fear and suspicion as foundations, and to do it, she'd have to face the situations that she habitually responded to in that way.
She purposefully began putting one foot in front of the other again, determined to finish the circuit of the complex perimeter. As she moved forward, the walk began to take on an almost allegorical meaning. To make any progress at all, she had to face forward and put one foot in front of the other in such a way that she moved in the direction she wanted to go. Yes, this was a new life - and the fears and suspicions that were overwhelming her before belonged to another life completely. To make progress in this new life, she couldn't let them tie her back. She had to face this new life head-on, and to do that, she'd have to dredge up some self-confidence.
"Hey, Parker!" She turned toward the voice. Paul Ruiz was waving at her from the driver's window of a silver mini-SUV. "Fancy meeting you out here."
She looked both ways and then trotted across the street to where he'd pulled the vehicle to the curb and leaned against the car door. "Hi. What's up?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, humor evident in his rich tone. He glanced up and down the street. "Where's your dad?"
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the complex across the street. "He was reading the newspaper at home when I left."
That made the professor's hazel eyes glance up in surprise. "Everything OK? I mean..." he smiled with a little embarrassment, "I rarely see one of you without the other being not far away."
Parker grinned - she HAD been hanging very close to her Papa, once she'd found him. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to take a walk to clear my head." She could see his attaché case on the passenger seat next to him. "You just getting off work?"
"TGIF," he chuckled at her. "Only had the one class today, and no office hours. Decided to head home to enjoy the quiet while Janine is over at her best friend's." He thought for a moment. "Why don't you hop in? I have some apple cider cold in my fridge that might hit the spot for you."
Parker thought for a moment, then smiled. "That sounds good, actually." She moved around the hood of the vehicle while Paul retrieved his attaché case and moved it to the back seat behind him.
He unlocked the door so she could slip in beside him. "Say, I'm not interrupting a good power walk or anything, am I? You said you were trying to clear your head?"
"I think I have things pretty well figured out now," she replied as he put the vehicle into gear and let it begin to move down the street again.
"I'm glad I ran into you. I was kind of hoping that we'd get a chance to get to know each other better without others hanging around."
"You mean like my Papa or your Janine?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"We do both seem to be rather well chaperoned, don't we?" he tossed back. "Were you and your dad always as close?"
Parker shook her head. "Not at all. We're..." She paused, trying to figure out how to explain her situation without shocking or confusing him. "We're just finally really getting to know each other after all these years. We'd lost touch for a while." She looked around her as Paul pulled into an unfamiliar complex drive. "What about you? Janine seems... very territorial."
Paul threw his head back and laughed. "When she told me she'd talked to you the other day, I just about had a litter of cats wondering about the kind of third degree grilling she'd given you - and whether you were still willing to subject yourself to more of the same on Sunday."
She shook her head again gently. "I remember being an only child after my mother died. It was just my daddy and me. I never had to worry much though, he was always working and hardly ever socialized."
"Sydney doesn't strike me as the kind of man who'd let his family drift away while he paid more attention to his work," Paul commented with his brows furrowed in confusion.
She glanced at him. "He was absolutely wrapped up in this one research project for a good number of years. The company he worked for didn't give him much time to think about much else either. I ended up in boarding school, and then went away to college."
"His idea, the boarding school?"
"No," she mused. "Not really." No, if her Papa had been actually in charge of things, she doubted she'd have been foisted off on school administrators or any other hired help - including Sydney, the Centre psychiatrist. If Papa had been her real father, she might very well have been raised within the Centre - but what a different situation it would have been. She took a deep breath, deciding to turn the tables on him again. "How long has it been just the two of you?"
"Almost four years now." Paul maneuvered the car around the corner and into the carport slot that was his with obvious skill. He glanced at his passenger as he turned off the key to the ignition. "Cancer," he said in explanation. "I think it was harder on Janine to actually lose her mother than it was on me - by the time it happened, I just wanted Tina to stop hurting, you know?"
"I'm sorry," Parker put her hand on his forearm. "I didn't mean..."
"Don't worry about it," Paul shook his head at her. "I've managed to touch some sensitive nerves with you a few times too." He reached behind him with one of his long arms and retrieved his attaché case again. "C'mon. Your apple cider awaits, milady."
~~~~~~~~
"Hi, Daddy," a happy voice called out, followed by the slam of the front door to the apartment.
"We're in here," Paul called back, motioning to Parker to stay silent and to stay seated.
"Daddy, you should see the really rad outfit that Michelle's mom got her for..." Janine skidded to a halt as she rounded the corner of the kitchen and caught sight of Parker seated at her kitchen table. "Oh. I didn't know you were here..."
"I ran into her on the way home from the university," Paul explained to his daughter, "and I invited her up for some apple cider." He lifted the half-empty container. "You want some?"
The teen shook her head. Today her black hair was down, and Parker could see that it hung in an abundant mane almost to her waist. "Nah. That's OK."
"You were saying about Michelle..." Paul prodded with a sideways glance at his guest. Parker was sitting and sipping at her cider attentively, but not getting in the way of his discussion with his daughter.
"Oh, yeah..." Janine snapped out of her reverie just as suddenly as she'd slipped into it. "Her mom got her this really rad outfit to go to the Spring Fling Dance next Friday night. AND she got her a new belly button jewel that matches! Can you believe that?"
Paul frowned. "Michelle's folks let her pierce her navel?"
Janine's face folded into an expression of frustration. "Oh, c'mon, Dad. It's the new millennium, and EVERYBODY's got their navel pierced."
"Not you," the steel-headed father announced in a tone of finality. "You're too young..."
"DAAAaaaaad," Janine complained, then gave a sudden glance at Parker as if only realizing she had an audience again. "Maybe we can talk about this later?"
"Sure," Paul replied reasonable, "as long as you realize there's no way in the world I'm going to let you get yours pierced for a good long time."
Janine's green eyes flashed, but she restrained her tongue and flounced from the kitchen. Less than a minute later came the sound of an interior door slamming shut.
"Sorry about that," Paul brought chagrined hazel eyes to bear on Parker's face, only to find her lips crinkling in a smile.
"You're right, she IS a handful," she commented wryly. She shook her head. "No wonder you're turning so grey."
"Oh, thanks a lot," he retorted grumpily.
She glanced down at her wristwatch. "I should probably be going. Papa's probably wondering where I went - I've been gone longer than I thought I would." She rose, and Paul was on his feet immediately. "Thanks for the cider - it tasted very good."
"Thanks for joining me," Paul replied, a hand at Parker's back to escort her to his door. "You've made the afternoon very enjoyable indeed. Say - would you mind if I walked back to your place with you? I need to get our mail anyway..."
"Me too," she answered with a smile over her shoulder. The hour she'd spent in his company had been a comfortable one where they had both gotten to know the other a little better. The more time she spent with the fellow, the more she was enjoying his company - and having that company for a little while longer wasn't a bad thing. "By all means. It will be nice to have company."
Paul let her lead the way down the stairs and then easily caught up to her and claimed her hand for his arm. "So, when are you going to talk to David Prouse in the Law Department?"
"I have an appointment with him on Tuesday of this next week," Parker told him, finding his having her hand tucked away in much the same way Papa did brought him closer to her - and had her heart beating just a little bit faster. This is ridiculous, she told herself. She wasn't a schoolgirl to be made breathless with a schoolyard crush...
"What time?"
"Mid-afternoon, I think."
He bent down towards her head slightly. "Good. Maybe we could get some lunch together at the Student Union. Their cafeteria there serves remarkably good stuff."
She looked up at him with eyebrows raised slightly. "You have a nice lunch-time break on Tuesdays?"
"Amazing, isn't it?" he grinned back at her, his eyes sparkling. "What do you say?"
"I suppose if I'm going to be attending this school, it wouldn't hurt to check out the amenities," she smirked back at him. "You're on. What time do you want me there, and where do you want to meet?"
Paul pulled her to a halt in front of a cement cube containing mailboxes just like the one on the other side of the complex where she and Papa got their mail. "Meet me in the union lobby at noon - I'll have to show you how to find the cafeteria." He inserted his mail key and opened the little door. "Junk mail," he grumbled as he fished several large and obvious advertising brochures from the tiny space. Of the wad of envelopes he pulled out, he dropped over half of them into the nearby trash receptacle immediately and then reclaimed her hand for his elbow again. "Now, on to YOUR side of the world."
Parker giggled as they started walking toward the clubhouse again. His sense of humor was contagious, and he'd had her in stitches several times during their leisurely discussion at his kitchen table. After the scare earlier that afternoon, she hadn't realized how much she had needed the lift his gift of laughter had provided. She heard his low and soft chuckle and knew that he was enjoying himself immensely - and evidently enjoyed her company as much as she was enjoying his.
"I'll have to remember you have Friday afternoons free - maybe the next glass of cider can be on me," she suggested, feeling almost shy in the invitation.
"I'd like that," Paul said gently, his hand pressing hers against his arm. "I was serious when I told you that I'd like to see more of you - a LOT more."
"Have you talked this over with Janine?" she asked, finally giving voice to her one reservation about what seemed to be the direction they were moving without any hesitation at all.
"Some. She was downright furious about the whole idea until you talked to her - I think your understanding exactly what she was going through made an impression." He fell silent while he pondered his explanation. "When Tina died, it was weeks before she would fall asleep in her bed by herself - I had to hold her and rock her to sleep and then carry her to bed. She and her mother were very close, and she was devastated."
"That sounds like me," Parker nodded. "When my mother died, I was so lost..."
Paul cleared his throat. He'd once wondered what it would take to get this intriguing woman to open up to him a little. Evidently shared heartache was one way. "Anyway, while she learned to go to sleep by herself eventually, and lately has gotten brave enough to spend more time with her friends going to movies and going to the mall for window-shopping sprees, she really hasn't figured out how to let me go yet."
"You don't have to explain," she reached over with her other hand and patted his. "Been there, done that."
He looked down at her with warm, hazel eyes. "Yes," he remarked slowly, "I suppose you have."
"So what does she think now?" Parker blushed and looked down at the sidewalk, finding the direct impact of his warm gaze disconcerting.
"I think you've made her curious, frankly. You were about as non-threatening as anybody could be in such a situation - and you treated her with respect." Paul's voice clearly communicated his pleasure at the situation as it stood. "She's actually told me she's looking forward to Sunday - although from what you saw today, that might be a little hard to believe."
"She wasn't expecting me to be in her kitchen," she reminded him. "Something tells me you were going to be fighting the battle of "but Daaaa-aaad" on navel piercings and all kinds of other pop culture ways for her to rebel whether I was sitting there or not."
"You're probably right," he chuckled ruefully. "And this Michelle she mentioned? Her mother is SUCH a flake..."
Parker laughed out loud this time. "Don't EVER let her hear you say that..."
"I don't have a death wish," he chuckled louder. "Trust me."
By this time, they had passed the clubhouse and had arrived at the cement block with mailboxes. Parker turned the key and retrieved the three white envelopes from within. "How do you manage not to have the junk mail?" he asked, astounded.
"Simple," she replied. "We haven't been here long enough for the marketers to find us yet. Give it another year..."
"So..." he tucked her hand away again as they began to move toward the building where Sydney had made his home, "what time will you be by on Sunday?"
"What time do you want me there?" she asked back, touched and amused at the possessive treatment he was giving her hand.
"I asked first," he grinned at her.
"You're the host. You set the conditions," she retorted.
"How about two o'clock in the afternoon, then," he responded after thinking for a bit. "That way we can have the afternoon AND dinner hour."
"Are you sure you're going to want me in your hair for the better part of the day?"
"If I thought I could pry you loose of your father at ten o'clock in the morning, I'd have asked for that instead." Paul's voice was rich and warm. "I told you, I want more of your company. You wouldn't be in my hair, no matter how long you stayed."
"Paul..."
"I mean it." He pulled her to a stop in front of the stairway that led up to her apartment door. "You're the first woman in a very long time who has climbed into my mind and stayed there. You're beautiful and funny and..." He pulled at her hand to get her to look up at him when she dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "...AND intelligent. You fascinate me, Parker Green."
"You're no slouch yourself, you know," she responded finally, her voice soft. "You make me laugh and keep me on my toes. I haven't had anyone do that for..." Jarod's face flashed through her mind. "...for a very long time. You are a very special person."
Hazel eyes dove deep into storm-cloud grey as a big hand came up and framed her face with a gentle touch. Parker found herself having to fight to keep from leaning into the soft caress, having to fight to keep from getting lost in the multicolored gaze. "I... should go in..." she managed finally. "Papa's probably wondering..."
"I suppose..." Paul said softly, and then gave into the temptation to bend down and just barely brush his lips across her cheek. "Sunday. Two o'clock."
"At two," she agreed in a whisper.
"Don't be late." He forced himself to step back from her. "See you then, pretty lady." He gave her a quick wave before turning about and heading home.
Parker watched him for a long moment and then mounted the stairs. "I'm back," she announced as she came through the door.
Sydney looked up from a psychiatric journal he'd been reading at for the last few days, obviously quite expectant. "You were longer than I thought you'd be," he began, then saw the color in her cheeks. "Ah," he smiled. "At least the walk did you some good."
"You could say that."
"Are you still so jumpy?"
Parker's face softened and her lips curled in a gentle smile. "Nope. Not at all." She blinked and wiped the expression from her face. "I ran into Paul, and he invited me up for a glass of cider - and I lost track of time a little bit. I didn't mean to worry you."
Sydney smiled as he contemplated the cause for the change in her attitude. "I need to remember that you're a big girl who can take care of herself," he told her. "You don't need to ask my permission to visit with your friends - especially if doing so will do you so much good."
She moved into the living room far enough that she could bend over the back of the couch and drop a kiss on the top of Papa's head. "Still," she told him, "it's nice to know someone cares enough TO worry a little. I love you, Papa."
"I love you too, ma petite," he answered, glad to see her in such a better mood. "And I'm glad to see that your time with Paul evidently helped you clear your mind."
Parker's face softened again as she remembered the soft touch and tenuous brush of lips to cheek. And Sunday was still two days away. "Oh yeah," she responded, bemused. "It helped a lot."
Chapter 8 - Movement
Miss Parker opened her eyes sleepily and then stretched in the early morning light. She felt rested but not completely refreshed because her sleep had been broken - as usual. But she was proud of herself. She'd done it again - caught herself before she'd slipped completely into her nightly bout of terror and awakened herself before she could make any noise to awaken her Papa too. This time, however, Papa had managed to stay asleep rather than rouse out of habit while she had prowled the living room and stared out at the nighttime boulevard for a long time. One day she hoped that she, too, would sleep the night through uninterrupted. But for now, she was content to know that Papa had.
Now that she was genuinely beginning to feel better, she was starting to become quite protective of her Papa's health. She had only just found him - only just started to discover and revel in the joy and security of knowing the unconditional love shared between parent and child - and there was absolutely nothing and nobody in her world right now that was more important to her. All the devotion she'd once showered on the memory of her mother was now pouring out for and on her Papa, and to her delight was being returned to her in full measure. She was happier now than she'd been since her mother's abrupt departure from her life, and all of that happiness was wrapped in an aging body that had already faltered once.
She slipped from beneath her sheet and light blanket and reached for her velour robe. She could smell the first, tenuous wafts from the coffeepot in the kitchen. It didn't surprise her that Papa was already up - he was, she knew, a creature of habit accustomed to rising early in the morning. She zipped the robe, dragged her fingers through her tumbled curls to give them at least the illusion of order, and padded down the hallway and into the kitchen with bare feet. "Sleep well?" she asked pointedly. She deposited a kiss on his cheek as she reached past him into the cupboard for a pair of coffee mugs.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he answered her with an assessing look, not missing the dusting of dark beneath her eyes. "But you didn't, I take it?"
She glanced at him sharply, knowing better than to try to placate him. He simply knew how to read her like an open book - and always had, she had to admit. "I woke up in the middle of the night and had a hard time getting back to sleep," she admitted. "It wasn't anything urgent, though, and I didn't want to awaken you."
"Parker..."
"No," she shook her head at him firmly. "I've lived with nightmares most of my life, Papa. At least NOW I can wake up before they get far enough along that I CAN'T wake up, and end up waking you up with my screaming. That's progress." She turned with a full coffee mug in one hand and ran her free hand over his forearm. "It means you don't have to be on call 24/7 anymore. I'm not on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown anymore, and you deserve a break. Besides, it isn't good for you anyway to not be getting your proper rest." Her determined grey eyes met and held his startled chestnut gaze. "You've taken care of me - now it's my turn to take care of you a little bit."
"I know you mean well, but I'd really rather you did wake me up, ma petite," Sydney insisted, taking up the second mug and filling it with coffee. "Part of the reason you're coming out from under your cloud so successfully is that we've worked on the little problems immediately, the moment they pop up." He frowned at her while he took a seat at the kitchen table. "Sometimes, that moment happens in the middle of the night. You know that."
"I know, but..."
"But..."
"I don't like the way this is wearing you down," she complained truthfully, letting her concern show. "You aren't getting the rest you need, and it's starting to show and worry me."
"Come here." Sydney put out his hand to his daughter, and then tugged when she willingly put her hand in his. "Sit down." He waited patiently until she did as he had asked. "Now listen to me. I told you that I knew what I was getting myself into, didn't I?"
"Papa..."
"No." He shook a finger at her. "It's my turn now. When I told you I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, that included knowing that there was going to come a time during which neither one of us would be getting the kind of rest we needed. It's obvious now that your nightmares hold the keys to a large portion of what nearly killed you - and as hard as they are on you, I need them to help me understand and help you get rid of them. I need to be there when they happen - there is a moment when the underlying problem causing the trouble is just below the surface."
"But it isn't worth it if you wear yourself out and have another heart attack," Parker worried back at him. "I don't think I could live with myself anymore if you were to make yourself ill trying to help me."
"Ma petite worry-wart, I'm not going to have another heart attack," he reassured her and then reached out to pull her head forward so he could kiss her forehead. "But if it would help make you feel any better, I'll start taking a longer nap in the afternoon to make up for the rest I lose in the middle of the night."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes," he chuckled at the seriousness on her face, "I swear, Parker. Now, whose turn is it to make breakfast?"
"This isn't funny, Papa," Parker protested.
"I know it isn't, sweetheart - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. But you don't seem to understand that my just being sleepy isn't going to hurt me half as much as your not getting to the roots of your nightmares will harm you eventually. Promise me you'll call me from now on." He brushed back an errant curl gently. "Neither of us is working and having to keep to a normal schedule, so if we start making a habit of being up a two in the morning, there's nobody to criticize or complain. We BOTH can nap in the afternoon, for that matter."
"Papa..."
The finger wagged again. "Uh-uhn. I promised I'd nap. So in return now, you promise me you'll call me." The finger moved beneath the chin and propped it up so that she couldn't look away. "Promise me."
"I promise," she conceded reluctantly. "It's just... I don't want to lose you..." Her grey eyes were almost frantic. "I can't lose you - not now!"
The unexpectedness as well as the depth and persistence of her worry astounded him. "What started this?"
She shrugged and picked up her coffee to sip at it. "I got to thinking last night when I couldn't get to sleep that this was always about the point..." She sighed. "Every time I start to think everything will be OK, and that it was safe for me to REALLY love someone, something unexpected would come along and then I'd be alone again..."
Sydney shook his head gently. "I should have known that your abandonment issues had only been dealt with superficially. Listen to me, cheri. My health isn't that fragile. I've recovered fully from my heart attack, and my cardiologist has been very satisfied with all my test results since then. I'm not going to suddenly drop..."
"Don't say it," she barked, turning slightly pale. "Don't even think it! Tommy did that, just a few days before he was murdered - told me that nothing was going to happen to him, and that he'd will me all his shirts when he was gone..." God, but it hurt to remember that cavalier remark in the face of what had happened only day's later! "And just look at what happened to him..."
He looked at her compassionately. "This is going to be one of those things that are going to take a long time to prove to you - that we're free of Centre tampering in our lives. There's nothing hanging in your destiny just out of sight that is waiting to steal your life away again, ma petite."
"Call it the Parker Jinx, but it's there," she retorted stubbornly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he sighed and scooted his chair closer to her so that he could put his arm around her shoulder. "You're not a Parker anymore, remember? That life is behind you now. You're MY daughter now, and the Green family doesn't have a jinx." He felt her lean and snuggle into him, and he left his coffee mug on the table so he could wrap his other arm around her to complete the embrace. "You know, if you keep looking over your shoulder for the axe to fall, you'll never fully enjoy what you have right now. You have a whole new life in front of you - let it unfold for you in its own time, don't waste time looking back trying to anticipate disaster."
Parker closed her eyes and savored the embrace that surrounded her and the love behind it like a starving person who'd just been given a huge helping of their favorite food. "I don't know how to do that yet, Papa," she admitted in a small voice.
"You'll learn," Sydney reassured her in a gentle voice. "You'll learn. Give it time."
~~~~~~~~
Parker would never know what inspired her Papa to have turned on the TV to watch the news that particular afternoon. Neither one of them were very impressed with the fare offered on what they both agreed was better called an “idiot box.” Papa did, from time to time, turn on the national news to supplement what he read in the Arizona Republic that was delivered to their doorstep every morning. She generally didn't join him, however. Her interests had yet to stretch too much beyond just settling into living with another person, getting to know her new home community and learning about the issues specific to the region.
So she was totally unprepared to hear him bellow out loudly, "Parker! Get in here NOW!"
Still a little sensitive to her own fears and worries, she found herself dashing in from the kitchen, where she'd been taking care of rinsing dishes. "God! What is it?"
"Look!" Sydney pointed to the television screen, and Parker's jaw dropped when the very next shot of the newscast moved to a painfully familiar landmark.
Sydney turned up the volume as the camera panned across the imposing façade of the above-ground facility. "The unfolding scandal of influence-peddling, racketeering, tax evasion and fraudulent government contracts has rocked the Delaware State Attorney General's office and has even sparked a probe into the possibility of Federal charges being leveled against The Centre and its CEO, Mr. William Raines." The newscaster's voice droned on in a typical non-emotional narrative, "An anonymous tip regarding tax evasion and fraud put investigators on the trail of Centre activities over six months ago. But the unexpected delivery of documents detailing Centre business practices has now caught the eye of the FBI and its RICO taskforce."
"Federal warrants were served this morning against several of the ranking executives and employees of the company, including CEO Raines and his assistant, a man evidently known only by the surname Lyle. Lyle is also being held without bail on seemingly unrelated murder charges, although part of the investigation into The Centre's business practices apparently is focusing on witness-tampering and obstruction of justice in regards to the deaths of several Asian women over the past five years in several states." The camera re-focused on the newscaster, behind whom the graphic related to the story changed suddenly from a thumbnail picture of the Centre tower to a drawing of a dollar sign. "This latest bombshell from a corporation considered a pillar in the American business community has rocked Wall Street, where the price of the common share on the New York Exchange has fallen to..."
Parker turned her stunned gaze to Sydney. "Impossible."
He swallowed hard, barely daring to believe that The Centre had indeed been standing on such shaky ground that it would collapse like a house of cards under a stiff breeze. "Remember when I found you in the cemetery?" he reminded her in a shocked voice. "I told you The Centre was falling apart - and urged you to get out before you were taken down with it." His eyes returned to the appliance and he muted the volume. "I meant it, but I swear I didn't think it would happen so FAST..."
She moved around the end of the couch and sat down next to her Papa before her knees could refuse to support her. "They said there was an anonymous tip. You don't suppose..."
Sydney shrugged. "It could have come from anyone, Parker. Even from Broots, if what you said about his being nervous about something that he'd found in the Centre mainframe was true. Broots was always a very ethical person, trapped in a very UNethical situation. This could easily be his revenge for what was done to Debbie, you know..."
Yes, Parker thought to herself, the Broots whose face had been pale with rage in the hospital emergency room could very well have been behind this final chapter in The Centre. "Or it could have been Jarod..." she appended as a second thought.
"No matter where it came from, you do realize what this means, don't you?" Parker was still too stunned to answer, so she just gazed at him. "It means, ma petite, that there will be no late-night visits from Raines and Lyle and Willy, shooting up our apartment and killing me. There's no way for your nightmare to become reality."
"What if the investigation..."
"Parker," he smiled at her. "It's over. Between the FBI, the Delaware Attorney General and everybody else who's been offended by The Centre over the years, there's nobody left to come after you. You're free - we're free."
She shook her head. "Not yet, Papa. We can't let down our guard yet. Not until Raines and Lyle and Willy are put away for good. We can't trust that the Triumvirate won't just buy their way out of jail in order to keep the bloodhounds from finding THEM." She shuddered. "And if they think WE'RE the ones responsible for the leak that got everyone in trouble..."
"They're not going to think that..."
"We don't know that. Papa, please..." Her expression had grown almost frantic again. "Remember the other day, I told you that there seemed to be a point in time when it would appear safe to let down my guard - only to have that be the one time when everything was ready to just fall in... Now here it is again... It looks like The Centre is falling apart, and we start to relax our guard, and then..."
He opened his mouth to console her, but she grabbed his forearm. "We need to get out of here - go away for a while."
"Parker," he began his complaint, knowing that she could easily build her anxiety up into a full-fledged panic attack, "there's no need for us to go anywhere. They don't know where we are to begin with - especially you. Besides, you have a date to have dinner with Paul and..."
"We have to protect him too," she pulled at him frantically. "In my nightmares, he always ended up dead too..."
"Hush." Sydney reached out to her and gathered her close before she could spring to her feet. He clung tightly while she struggled against his embrace. "Slow down, and stop panicking. Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Breathe..."
It took a long time, but finally she was quiet against him. "I'm scared," she finally admitted in a tiny voice.
"I noticed," he told her not unkindly. "But you're going to have to face this one, Parker."
"Papa..."
"Uh-uhn. This is not negotiable. The only way for you to truly learn that you don't have to run or be afraid anymore is for you to stop running. You can do this," he told her, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could. "You'll go over to Paul's Sunday and have a nice meal with them, and then Monday you'll get your driver's license."
"That can wait for a while..."
"No, it can't." He put her away from him so that he could look her in the face. "C'mon, Parker. You're stronger than this, and you know it. We Greens are a hardy lot."
"Not when I have so much to lose again," she countered softly.
"You forget that I have as much to lose as you do now," he reminded her gently. "But I refuse to crawl under a rock when the promise of sunshine has such good odds. We'll be OK, Parker. Trust me."
She did trust him - she DID - it was the rest of the world she was suspicious of. Sydney could see that he hadn't convinced her yet, so he just kissed her forehead and let her go. "Listen to me now. We're not going to change our routine at all," he told her firmly. "They've left us alone for this long, there's no reason to believe that they'll bother us now. Besides, we've not done anything. If they WERE watching us, our not running and drawing attention to ourselves would tell them exactly that."
Parker rose and went back out into the kitchen to finish her task, her mind spinning. For once she was seeing the warning signs for herself, signs that Papa wanted her to disregard. She filled the detergent cup in the dishwasher with the powdered soap and set the dial, hearing the machine pick right up and begin to fill with water. She was anxious, antsy. Sitting around the apartment quietly for the rest of the afternoon just wasn't something she could handle.
"I think I'm going to take a walk," she announced to him as he sat on the couch reading the newspaper.
"Are you OK?" he inquired quickly, reading a deeper meaning in her sudden urge for activity.
"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I'm just feeling the need to DO something right now - if I sit around the apartment, I'm going to stew and get myself all worked up. I thought a combination walk and jog around the complex might help me clear my head and put things in perspective." She put out her hand. "Give me the key, and I'll pick up the mail on my way back in."
"I think it's about time we get you your own set of keys," Sydney commented as he fished in his trousers pocket for his key ring. He caught her hand in his as he dropped the keys into her palm. "Don't be gone too long - and take some water with you. It's warm today. Are you SURE you're OK?"
"I'm just jumpy," she admitted. "And I figured that rather than climbing the walls and driving you nuts, I'd take a hike around the perimeter."
"Just don't tire yourself out too much," he cautioned at her. "You know you still don't have all your strength back."
"I'll be fine, Papa - I promise."
~~~~~~~~
Papa was right - it WAS warm outside, much warmer than it had been that morning during their constitutional walk. Parker headed off down the sidewalk, glad that she'd broken down and bought herself a pair of comfortable sneakers several days ago. The breeze in her hair was warmer than skin-temperature, and her legs moved steadily as she walked down the sidewalk to the broad boulevard and then turned left to skirt the very perimeter of the condominium complex.
Palm and palo verde trees lined the sidewalk next to the boulevard, as usual accenting the fact that this was NOT Delaware, but Arizona. This was her life now - THIS, not that viper's pit that she'd seen for the first time in almost a month on a television news broadcast. The idea that Raines and Lyle were currently housed in cells not much bigger than the ones she knew they'd kept Jarod all those years seemed poetic justice in and of itself. Was Papa right? Had she managed to drop off the radar with him at just the right time and in just the right way that the Triumvirate wouldn't come looking for her? How much longer before she could draw a truly free breath?
There was a bus stop bench at the next corner where she'd be turning left again away from the boulevard, and she seated herself and took a long draught from the small drinking water bottle she'd carried with her. She looked around her, and then across the broad expanse of green grass to the balcony that she knew was theirs. Theirs - now there was a concept that had changed for her. Papa's incorporation of her into his life had been quite complete, and the sense of belonging was part of what she was so desperate to defend. She LIKED her new life, what she'd seen of it and the people with whom she was sharing it. She liked it well enough that she was going to do whatever it would take to hang onto it.
Feeling rested again, she rose and began walking steadily down the side street. Only gradually did she realize that she was comfortable walking down that street alone. The fears and insecurities that hounded her thoughts weren't present unless she deliberately invited them into her mind. She wasn't watching every car that passed lest it hold a pack of sweepers bent on retrieval. She wasn't eyeing other pedestrians to see if they were trying to stake her out or follow her. She was Parker Green, walking down the street near her home as if she belonged - and she did.
Understanding flooded her and made her steps falter and finally halt. Her fears were based in habit, conditioned responses to the poisonous environment in which she'd lived most of her life as Miss Parker. Conditioned responses could only be addressed and eventually reversed by conditioning herself to respond in new ways - a process that required time and persistence. That explained Papa's refusal to allow the news to change any part of the life they had now. He was right - she had to re-learn how to interact with life in terms that didn't include fear and suspicion as foundations, and to do it, she'd have to face the situations that she habitually responded to in that way.
She purposefully began putting one foot in front of the other again, determined to finish the circuit of the complex perimeter. As she moved forward, the walk began to take on an almost allegorical meaning. To make any progress at all, she had to face forward and put one foot in front of the other in such a way that she moved in the direction she wanted to go. Yes, this was a new life - and the fears and suspicions that were overwhelming her before belonged to another life completely. To make progress in this new life, she couldn't let them tie her back. She had to face this new life head-on, and to do that, she'd have to dredge up some self-confidence.
"Hey, Parker!" She turned toward the voice. Paul Ruiz was waving at her from the driver's window of a silver mini-SUV. "Fancy meeting you out here."
She looked both ways and then trotted across the street to where he'd pulled the vehicle to the curb and leaned against the car door. "Hi. What's up?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, humor evident in his rich tone. He glanced up and down the street. "Where's your dad?"
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the complex across the street. "He was reading the newspaper at home when I left."
That made the professor's hazel eyes glance up in surprise. "Everything OK? I mean..." he smiled with a little embarrassment, "I rarely see one of you without the other being not far away."
Parker grinned - she HAD been hanging very close to her Papa, once she'd found him. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to take a walk to clear my head." She could see his attaché case on the passenger seat next to him. "You just getting off work?"
"TGIF," he chuckled at her. "Only had the one class today, and no office hours. Decided to head home to enjoy the quiet while Janine is over at her best friend's." He thought for a moment. "Why don't you hop in? I have some apple cider cold in my fridge that might hit the spot for you."
Parker thought for a moment, then smiled. "That sounds good, actually." She moved around the hood of the vehicle while Paul retrieved his attaché case and moved it to the back seat behind him.
He unlocked the door so she could slip in beside him. "Say, I'm not interrupting a good power walk or anything, am I? You said you were trying to clear your head?"
"I think I have things pretty well figured out now," she replied as he put the vehicle into gear and let it begin to move down the street again.
"I'm glad I ran into you. I was kind of hoping that we'd get a chance to get to know each other better without others hanging around."
"You mean like my Papa or your Janine?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"We do both seem to be rather well chaperoned, don't we?" he tossed back. "Were you and your dad always as close?"
Parker shook her head. "Not at all. We're..." She paused, trying to figure out how to explain her situation without shocking or confusing him. "We're just finally really getting to know each other after all these years. We'd lost touch for a while." She looked around her as Paul pulled into an unfamiliar complex drive. "What about you? Janine seems... very territorial."
Paul threw his head back and laughed. "When she told me she'd talked to you the other day, I just about had a litter of cats wondering about the kind of third degree grilling she'd given you - and whether you were still willing to subject yourself to more of the same on Sunday."
She shook her head again gently. "I remember being an only child after my mother died. It was just my daddy and me. I never had to worry much though, he was always working and hardly ever socialized."
"Sydney doesn't strike me as the kind of man who'd let his family drift away while he paid more attention to his work," Paul commented with his brows furrowed in confusion.
She glanced at him. "He was absolutely wrapped up in this one research project for a good number of years. The company he worked for didn't give him much time to think about much else either. I ended up in boarding school, and then went away to college."
"His idea, the boarding school?"
"No," she mused. "Not really." No, if her Papa had been actually in charge of things, she doubted she'd have been foisted off on school administrators or any other hired help - including Sydney, the Centre psychiatrist. If Papa had been her real father, she might very well have been raised within the Centre - but what a different situation it would have been. She took a deep breath, deciding to turn the tables on him again. "How long has it been just the two of you?"
"Almost four years now." Paul maneuvered the car around the corner and into the carport slot that was his with obvious skill. He glanced at his passenger as he turned off the key to the ignition. "Cancer," he said in explanation. "I think it was harder on Janine to actually lose her mother than it was on me - by the time it happened, I just wanted Tina to stop hurting, you know?"
"I'm sorry," Parker put her hand on his forearm. "I didn't mean..."
"Don't worry about it," Paul shook his head at her. "I've managed to touch some sensitive nerves with you a few times too." He reached behind him with one of his long arms and retrieved his attaché case again. "C'mon. Your apple cider awaits, milady."
~~~~~~~~
"Hi, Daddy," a happy voice called out, followed by the slam of the front door to the apartment.
"We're in here," Paul called back, motioning to Parker to stay silent and to stay seated.
"Daddy, you should see the really rad outfit that Michelle's mom got her for..." Janine skidded to a halt as she rounded the corner of the kitchen and caught sight of Parker seated at her kitchen table. "Oh. I didn't know you were here..."
"I ran into her on the way home from the university," Paul explained to his daughter, "and I invited her up for some apple cider." He lifted the half-empty container. "You want some?"
The teen shook her head. Today her black hair was down, and Parker could see that it hung in an abundant mane almost to her waist. "Nah. That's OK."
"You were saying about Michelle..." Paul prodded with a sideways glance at his guest. Parker was sitting and sipping at her cider attentively, but not getting in the way of his discussion with his daughter.
"Oh, yeah..." Janine snapped out of her reverie just as suddenly as she'd slipped into it. "Her mom got her this really rad outfit to go to the Spring Fling Dance next Friday night. AND she got her a new belly button jewel that matches! Can you believe that?"
Paul frowned. "Michelle's folks let her pierce her navel?"
Janine's face folded into an expression of frustration. "Oh, c'mon, Dad. It's the new millennium, and EVERYBODY's got their navel pierced."
"Not you," the steel-headed father announced in a tone of finality. "You're too young..."
"DAAAaaaaad," Janine complained, then gave a sudden glance at Parker as if only realizing she had an audience again. "Maybe we can talk about this later?"
"Sure," Paul replied reasonable, "as long as you realize there's no way in the world I'm going to let you get yours pierced for a good long time."
Janine's green eyes flashed, but she restrained her tongue and flounced from the kitchen. Less than a minute later came the sound of an interior door slamming shut.
"Sorry about that," Paul brought chagrined hazel eyes to bear on Parker's face, only to find her lips crinkling in a smile.
"You're right, she IS a handful," she commented wryly. She shook her head. "No wonder you're turning so grey."
"Oh, thanks a lot," he retorted grumpily.
She glanced down at her wristwatch. "I should probably be going. Papa's probably wondering where I went - I've been gone longer than I thought I would." She rose, and Paul was on his feet immediately. "Thanks for the cider - it tasted very good."
"Thanks for joining me," Paul replied, a hand at Parker's back to escort her to his door. "You've made the afternoon very enjoyable indeed. Say - would you mind if I walked back to your place with you? I need to get our mail anyway..."
"Me too," she answered with a smile over her shoulder. The hour she'd spent in his company had been a comfortable one where they had both gotten to know the other a little better. The more time she spent with the fellow, the more she was enjoying his company - and having that company for a little while longer wasn't a bad thing. "By all means. It will be nice to have company."
Paul let her lead the way down the stairs and then easily caught up to her and claimed her hand for his arm. "So, when are you going to talk to David Prouse in the Law Department?"
"I have an appointment with him on Tuesday of this next week," Parker told him, finding his having her hand tucked away in much the same way Papa did brought him closer to her - and had her heart beating just a little bit faster. This is ridiculous, she told herself. She wasn't a schoolgirl to be made breathless with a schoolyard crush...
"What time?"
"Mid-afternoon, I think."
He bent down towards her head slightly. "Good. Maybe we could get some lunch together at the Student Union. Their cafeteria there serves remarkably good stuff."
She looked up at him with eyebrows raised slightly. "You have a nice lunch-time break on Tuesdays?"
"Amazing, isn't it?" he grinned back at her, his eyes sparkling. "What do you say?"
"I suppose if I'm going to be attending this school, it wouldn't hurt to check out the amenities," she smirked back at him. "You're on. What time do you want me there, and where do you want to meet?"
Paul pulled her to a halt in front of a cement cube containing mailboxes just like the one on the other side of the complex where she and Papa got their mail. "Meet me in the union lobby at noon - I'll have to show you how to find the cafeteria." He inserted his mail key and opened the little door. "Junk mail," he grumbled as he fished several large and obvious advertising brochures from the tiny space. Of the wad of envelopes he pulled out, he dropped over half of them into the nearby trash receptacle immediately and then reclaimed her hand for his elbow again. "Now, on to YOUR side of the world."
Parker giggled as they started walking toward the clubhouse again. His sense of humor was contagious, and he'd had her in stitches several times during their leisurely discussion at his kitchen table. After the scare earlier that afternoon, she hadn't realized how much she had needed the lift his gift of laughter had provided. She heard his low and soft chuckle and knew that he was enjoying himself immensely - and evidently enjoyed her company as much as she was enjoying his.
"I'll have to remember you have Friday afternoons free - maybe the next glass of cider can be on me," she suggested, feeling almost shy in the invitation.
"I'd like that," Paul said gently, his hand pressing hers against his arm. "I was serious when I told you that I'd like to see more of you - a LOT more."
"Have you talked this over with Janine?" she asked, finally giving voice to her one reservation about what seemed to be the direction they were moving without any hesitation at all.
"Some. She was downright furious about the whole idea until you talked to her - I think your understanding exactly what she was going through made an impression." He fell silent while he pondered his explanation. "When Tina died, it was weeks before she would fall asleep in her bed by herself - I had to hold her and rock her to sleep and then carry her to bed. She and her mother were very close, and she was devastated."
"That sounds like me," Parker nodded. "When my mother died, I was so lost..."
Paul cleared his throat. He'd once wondered what it would take to get this intriguing woman to open up to him a little. Evidently shared heartache was one way. "Anyway, while she learned to go to sleep by herself eventually, and lately has gotten brave enough to spend more time with her friends going to movies and going to the mall for window-shopping sprees, she really hasn't figured out how to let me go yet."
"You don't have to explain," she reached over with her other hand and patted his. "Been there, done that."
He looked down at her with warm, hazel eyes. "Yes," he remarked slowly, "I suppose you have."
"So what does she think now?" Parker blushed and looked down at the sidewalk, finding the direct impact of his warm gaze disconcerting.
"I think you've made her curious, frankly. You were about as non-threatening as anybody could be in such a situation - and you treated her with respect." Paul's voice clearly communicated his pleasure at the situation as it stood. "She's actually told me she's looking forward to Sunday - although from what you saw today, that might be a little hard to believe."
"She wasn't expecting me to be in her kitchen," she reminded him. "Something tells me you were going to be fighting the battle of "but Daaaa-aaad" on navel piercings and all kinds of other pop culture ways for her to rebel whether I was sitting there or not."
"You're probably right," he chuckled ruefully. "And this Michelle she mentioned? Her mother is SUCH a flake..."
Parker laughed out loud this time. "Don't EVER let her hear you say that..."
"I don't have a death wish," he chuckled louder. "Trust me."
By this time, they had passed the clubhouse and had arrived at the cement block with mailboxes. Parker turned the key and retrieved the three white envelopes from within. "How do you manage not to have the junk mail?" he asked, astounded.
"Simple," she replied. "We haven't been here long enough for the marketers to find us yet. Give it another year..."
"So..." he tucked her hand away again as they began to move toward the building where Sydney had made his home, "what time will you be by on Sunday?"
"What time do you want me there?" she asked back, touched and amused at the possessive treatment he was giving her hand.
"I asked first," he grinned at her.
"You're the host. You set the conditions," she retorted.
"How about two o'clock in the afternoon, then," he responded after thinking for a bit. "That way we can have the afternoon AND dinner hour."
"Are you sure you're going to want me in your hair for the better part of the day?"
"If I thought I could pry you loose of your father at ten o'clock in the morning, I'd have asked for that instead." Paul's voice was rich and warm. "I told you, I want more of your company. You wouldn't be in my hair, no matter how long you stayed."
"Paul..."
"I mean it." He pulled her to a stop in front of the stairway that led up to her apartment door. "You're the first woman in a very long time who has climbed into my mind and stayed there. You're beautiful and funny and..." He pulled at her hand to get her to look up at him when she dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "...AND intelligent. You fascinate me, Parker Green."
"You're no slouch yourself, you know," she responded finally, her voice soft. "You make me laugh and keep me on my toes. I haven't had anyone do that for..." Jarod's face flashed through her mind. "...for a very long time. You are a very special person."
Hazel eyes dove deep into storm-cloud grey as a big hand came up and framed her face with a gentle touch. Parker found herself having to fight to keep from leaning into the soft caress, having to fight to keep from getting lost in the multicolored gaze. "I... should go in..." she managed finally. "Papa's probably wondering..."
"I suppose..." Paul said softly, and then gave into the temptation to bend down and just barely brush his lips across her cheek. "Sunday. Two o'clock."
"At two," she agreed in a whisper.
"Don't be late." He forced himself to step back from her. "See you then, pretty lady." He gave her a quick wave before turning about and heading home.
Parker watched him for a long moment and then mounted the stairs. "I'm back," she announced as she came through the door.
Sydney looked up from a psychiatric journal he'd been reading at for the last few days, obviously quite expectant. "You were longer than I thought you'd be," he began, then saw the color in her cheeks. "Ah," he smiled. "At least the walk did you some good."
"You could say that."
"Are you still so jumpy?"
Parker's face softened and her lips curled in a gentle smile. "Nope. Not at all." She blinked and wiped the expression from her face. "I ran into Paul, and he invited me up for a glass of cider - and I lost track of time a little bit. I didn't mean to worry you."
Sydney smiled as he contemplated the cause for the change in her attitude. "I need to remember that you're a big girl who can take care of herself," he told her. "You don't need to ask my permission to visit with your friends - especially if doing so will do you so much good."
She moved into the living room far enough that she could bend over the back of the couch and drop a kiss on the top of Papa's head. "Still," she told him, "it's nice to know someone cares enough TO worry a little. I love you, Papa."
"I love you too, ma petite," he answered, glad to see her in such a better mood. "And I'm glad to see that your time with Paul evidently helped you clear your mind."
Parker's face softened again as she remembered the soft touch and tenuous brush of lips to cheek. And Sunday was still two days away. "Oh yeah," she responded, bemused. "It helped a lot."
