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Author's Notes: THIS IS MY FOLLOW-UP TO 'SERPENTS AND GODS'. WHILE THIS IS NOT AN NC-17 FIC AND THAT ONE IS, IT REALLY ISN'T THAT NECESSARY THAT YOU READ THE FORMER. TO SUMMARIZE THAT STORY, JAROD AND MISS PARKER GET TOGETHER BUT SHE DECIDES SHE NEEDS TO GROW BEFORE THEY CAN "COUPLE-UP." AND EVEN THOUGH I GENERALLY DISLIKE MAMBY-PAMBY FICTION, DAMN IF IT'S NOT AN ENTICING TRAP AT TIMES. LOTS OF HALLMARK MOMENTS IN THIS ONE AND SOME ANGST.
Disclaimer: Characters and premise owned by god-knows-who now but still definitely not me. I don't own them, never have, never will. Anne Rice owns the premise and NBC owns the Pretender and its characters. Don't even try to sue, it would just be needlessly killing trees.
All That Heaven Will Allow
by Keeper March
It's amazing the way things fall apart. The end is sometimes just that, a stopping point. You can build things up in your head to be monumental and when they actually come to pass, they're so trivial. Most things go out with a whimper, not a bang.
She left that place, packed up and moved on without a backward glance. She walked in one Tuesday morning, hugged Sydney, kissed Broots on the cheek and walked into her father's office and said only two words as she handed him her resignation. Game Over.
She thought they'd come running, nameless men in dark suits, hired guns sent to deal with her like they did her mother. She thought her father might even put a bullet in the back of her head himself. But no, she walked out to her car and got in and shut the door and for one complete second, sound didn't exist, only the white-knuckle grip of her fingers on the wheel, so tight her joints ached from the pressure. When she finally released her hold, the sounds all around her came flooding in and she felt like she was hearing the world for the first time.
Her father never came for her, never sent anyone to retrieve her. He was preoccupied with his own survival. When everything came crashing down on him he ended it with a handgun in his mouth, seated behind his massive desk. Only part of it ended with him but a minor blow is usually enough to distract. The rest of the Centre fell with an almost gentle thud. No bells or whistles from the government or press but a quiet, efficient death. She found all of this out later from Sydney after he had relocated to Paris. Her brother also died in the aftermath. With no one to protect his appetites, his enemies dealt with him accordingly. Only his other thumb was ever found. It meant nothing to the authorities but everything to those who knew his past.
The rest of the Centre was an afterthought to her. It wasn't that she didn't care but she couldn't let herself care. After a year she contacted Sydney and found out that he and Broots had fled just in time. If they had left earlier, the Centre would have killed them and if they had waited, they would have been casualties of the fall. Broots had packed up his daughter and moved to the West Coast. He was a dot.com entrepreneur and lacked for nothing even if he didn't have that surprise windfall from Jarod in his bank account.
Sydney and Michelle had moved to Paris and to her surprise, Sydney adopted the Parker baby. He figured he'd been raising pretenders most of his life, why stop now? Besides, he had missed out on raising his own son.
She still hadn't contacted Jarod. She wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing but she knew Sydney would probably know. The last time she saw him had been four years ago. Their last embrace on the airstrip had been one of the defining moments of her life. If ever epiphanies existed, she'd had one that day. She asked him not to try and find her and he'd been as good as his word.
Four years but it seemed like a lifetime ago. She'd made great strides in those four years. She settled in Savannah, Georgia in a house on Wilmington Island. She loved the history and the pace of the South. She loved waking up on deep water as the tide was changing. She renamed herself Parker Oglethorpe after the state founder. She had a new name for a new life.
And even though she didn't have to work, she wanted to. She had a law degree from Harvard that she'd never put to good use and after a month of review, she was qualified to practice in Georgia. She put herself on the fast track and in short time she was an assistant district attorney. She was one of the best lawyers in the city but she had a reputation for not cutting deals, something her office found both rewarding and frustrating. She could slice open a defendant and was merciless on those that exploited the weak and abused, particularly children. The irony of that fact was not lost on her. She had taken up Jarod's banner and pet cause.
She found her life rewarding. She had a job she loved, a circle of friends she adored, and a house that was a sanctuary she couldn't live without. She dated occasionally but never seriously. She didn't know why she didn't contact Jarod yet. She just figured everything had a time and a place.
*****
After she left him, he was set adrift for a while. He wondered and fretted that he should have done something different. But in the end, he realized she was right. They'd both lived for other people so long that they didn't even know themselves. He stopped his pretending. The burden of his past seemed to lift off of him and he didn't feel the need to right wrongs that were never really his. He still helped people but the bitterness, the revenge and spite, were gone from him.
He traveled and graduated from the Sorbonne in record time. He still wasn't above forging some documentation if he knew the time requirements were pointless for someone in his unique position. He had taken a job as a professor of art history and loved interacting with his students. He was well liked by his colleagues. They always marveled at his extensive knowledge of so many other areas. It was a common joke around the faculty that Dr. Jarod Charles was the only art historian who was voted professor of the year by the students and wrote a book on nuclear physics.
He still had issues with his past and the South seemed like the perfect place to relocate to after he had read William Faulkner and Eudora Welty. He'd settled in a historic antebellum home downtown. He could walk to work and it was in one of the numerous garden squares that highlighted the city.
Everything in his life was going well except that he still occasionally missed her. She told him not to contact him so he honored that. He didn't ask Sydney where she was because that would be too great a temptation to see her. He just figured fate would bring them together.
*****
She'd accepted and invitation to a New Year's party. Her good friend Noah Ellison was a fellow A.D.A and even though they were complete opposites, she often accompanied him to big events. While she was content to dwell in anonymity, Noah had an eye towards a political career and used every opportunity to make new ties. She didn't mind that Noah only brought her because he couldn't exactly bring his boyfriend Henry. It was a chance for her to engage in witty conversation, eat hors d'oeuvres, and meet new people.
*****
Renee Mobley had cajoled him into attending she and her husband's New Year's party. They'd worked together on a few Art Guild events and Renee had immediately decided that finding him a wife was going to be one of her new projects. He tried to dissuade her but she and her husband Councilman Mobley were such nice people and they surrounded themselves with such engaging personalities that he couldn't turn them down. So he showed up at the black tie event ready to be charmed by Savannah's finest and unattached.
*****
The reason she loved attending functions with Noah was that he didn't hover over her. He'd grease palms while she talked with everyone else. She'd known Stanton Mobley for years now and it was in fact he that tagged her with the nickname, "The Knife" for the way she sliced through opponents.
She was making light banter with he and his wife when the oddest sensation spread over her. She couldn't name it but something was different, the room seemed somehow changed. She chalked it up to the Cristal and continued teasing Stanton about his racquetball game.
"Oh," smiled Renee, "Dr. Charles is here."
"Darling," intoned Stanton, "must you insist on setting that poor boy up with every woman in Georgia?"
"Well, Sugah, I just like seeing everyone in love the way that we are. Not to mention, a man of a certain age and a certain means should always have a wife. If I hadn't taken pity on you, your guests would be drinking from a keg," she teased with a bat of her eyelashes. "Besides, he's such a nice man, he should be starting a family. Look at it this way, I'm just helping increase the number of future voters."
Parker listened to their affectionate teasing and watched as Renee made a motion to someone over her shoulder.
"Dr. Charles, I'm going to help you start the New Year off right."
"Mrs. Mobley?"
At the sound of his voice, she abruptly turned around.
He had thought the woman standing next to the Mobley's looked familiar but when she turned around, all the air in his lungs somehow disappeared only to quickly rush back in .
"Jarod."
"Parker."
"I?"
"What are you doing?"
"Here?"
The older couple watched the two of them in amusement and confusion. Once he recognized her, Jarod couldn't help but reach for her. He had his hand on her hip and her hand rested on his forearm.
"I, I, I'm an A.D.A. I live fifteen minutes away on Wilmington," she related with shock. "what are you doing here?"
"I live here too. I'm a professor at the SCAD. I live in Johnson Square."
"A professor? Art, right?"
"Yeah," he said with a smile of recognition that she knew his preferences and passions. A comfortable silence ensued in which they both just looked at each other in shock and anticipation.
Sensing the moment was right, Renee broke in.
"So the two of you know each other?"
"We were childhood friends," Parker explained.
"But we haven't seen each other in a while," Jarod finished.
"Well," Renee said with a knowing smile. "Let me make the official reintroduction. Miss Parker Oglethorpe, I'd like to present Dr. Jarod Charles."
"Major Charles, huh?" she asked, a shared secret between the two old friends.
"Yeah, Parker," he said, placing emphasis on her decision to use her last name as her first.
"Well, I can see the two of you have a lot of catching up to do," said Stanton. "We'll leave you to it."
"Thanks," they both murmured, never taking their eyes from each other.
"Well," said Renee as she and her husband walked away arm-in-arm. "I think I can stop worrying about Jarod being unattached."
*****
Seeing her again was too much for him. He wanted to rush out with his feelings, tell her how much he missed her and how often he still thought of her. Instead, he fell back on polite observation.
"Your hair has gotten longer."
She still couldn't believe he was here, in Savannah, with her. He was still so beautiful but he had matured both physically and she could sense mentally and emotionally. She wasn't prepared for his presence. But he let her off the hook by not immediately asking her personal questions.
"Yeah, I didn't have to keep running all over the place so I let it grow out a little."
The reference to their previous roles made him smile.
"Let's go out on the terrace," he suggested.
She assented and gave him her arm as he escorted her into the cool night air. Savannah was having a mild winter so the temperature was such that it wasn't chilly but cooler, almost like an Indian summer. Once they were alone, he couldn't help but stare at her.
"Thank you," she said, turning to look at him.
"For what?"
"Dismantling the Centre. For, for a lot of things."
"Well, it was what you asked me to do. I've never really been able to deny you anything."
They continued to stand there looking at each other. There were so many things they wanted to say, so many questions they felt they had to ask.
"Did you come alone?" he finally managed to ask.
"No," she said and his heart gave a lurch. "My date's boyfriend doesn't like to attend these things." The meaning of that statement was in her eyes.
"I?" he started off but was interrupted by the end of the year countdown. As the crowd roared "Happy New Year," he thought the only thing to do, the appropriate thing to do was to grab her about the waist and kiss her.
She'd been waiting for that kiss all night. It was the culmination of everything the last four years had meant. Anticipation, regret, longing, and appreciation all collided. They kissed like they were each other's lifelines.
When they reluctantly broke apart, he still held her close and she whispered against his lips,
"Happy New Year. Did you make a wish?"
He pulled back a little to look in her eyes.
"There's no need to anymore."
She reluctantly excused herself from him in order to find Noah. When she found him, she politely pulled him aside and told him that she had a ride home.
"What happened? " he asked. "If I knew you were feeling ill or had to leave, we could have."
"No, it's not that. It's, it's just, oh man?"
A smile spread across Noah's face. "I've never seen "The Knife" flustered. You're ditching me for the man of your dreams, aren't you?" he teased.
"Oh Noah. Just as long as you aren't mad."
"I never stand in the way of true love. Or true lust, whichever case this may be. Just be safe."
"I don't have to worry about that," she said as she lightly kissed Noah's cheek. Jarod was waiting for her at the door, his SUV already pulled around to the curb. He walked her to the passenger side and helped her in and then got behind the wheel. He started to drive then it occurred to him that he didn't know where to go.
"Where to?" he asked
"Will you take me to my house?"
She gave him directions and in twenty minutes they were parked in front of her house. He didn't know what would happen next. He wanted to do forty things at once with her. He got out of the car and went around to escort her out of the Suburban.
At her front door, she paused.
"Jarod. I, I want to go slow. I want us to get to know each other as we are now. I don't want us to fall back on our pasts. I, I want to do this the normal way, as if we just met."
"O.K." he said, a little skeptical but willing to try it. "Can I come in for a nightcap?"
"Yes, of course, but no sex," she said in a rush, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.
He paused for a second, "I just wanted coffee."
Once inside her house, he looked around while she prepared their drinks. Her tastes were still the same. She still loved wood paneling and oversize chairs and couches with lots of chenille pillows. Books and various knickknacks were artistically scattered on shelves and tabletops. The house smelled of potpourri and felt as if she really lived in it, like it was an extension of her. To his surprise, she had the stained glass window he made her installed in one of the side windows.
"You have a boat," he remarked as she came back with two mugs of coffee.
"Yes, she replied as he sat on the couch and she in a chair opposite him. "Part of why I chose this house was that it's on deep water so I can go boating and swim. My mother taught me to swim and I've always loved the water."
Suddenly, every question, every emotion they had came pouring out. They stayed up all night talking, about their pasts, about what happened to them.
He loved it, loved hearing about things from her perspective. He loved answering questions about his family and Sydney and Broots.
She loved talking with him. He had greatly matured in the four years they were apart. He had lost some of his guilt but had gained a new perspective.
He was no longer the hopeless little boy he was at thirty but he wasn't jaded and cynical either. It occurred to her that he was a man. That was all, no more, no less. He wasn't a pretender or a lab rat or all of those other definitions anymore. He was just a man who knew himself and the rest of the world well enough not to be bogged down in expectation and disappointment.
They only stopped talking when the sun came streaming into the living room. She insisted that he sleep in her spare bedroom for the night. It was a little awkward, preparing for bed but not with each other. But she really wanted to know who he had become before she could pick up where they left off.
*****
That night started a pattern for them. For the next two weeks, they spent as much time together as possible. Sometimes he would sleep in her spare room and some nights she would stay in his. They quizzed each other on their preferences. She made him watch all her favorite movies and he made her listen to all his favorite songs. He knew her favorite color, her favorite scent and that her favorite fruit was strawberries. They had every meal together, most of them prepared by him. She loved that he had a gourmet kitchen installed in his home and that he was a culinary master. In between teaching his classes, he'd sit in on her trials. He was astounded at how passionate she was yet at the same time he could still catch glimpses of the Ice Queen. She's earned her nickname and loved punishing abusers. She took it hard when a particular child abuse case was thrown out on a technicality but she kept at it and he could see that she loved her job.
They were getting to know each other again and even if he didn't love her before, even if he had met her for the first time two weeks ago, he loved her now, he loved her anew. That thought hit him as he was taking his afternoon jog through the garden district. He had to stop for a minute, so great was the realization. He loved her. Not Miss Parker or the Ice Princess or even Daddy's Angel. He loved Parker Oglethorpe, this wholly different yet familiar person. It was as if all the other incarnations of her had lead to this, this perfect person for him.
He suddenly felt more alive and justified. It was as if the universe was revealing a mystery to him. They had finally arrived at this place, together. Even when he'd hoped and prayed, when he sometimes doubted, fate had come through for them. The magic of it was so overwhelming to him. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little girl playing by the fountain. That shouldn't have surprised him, there were lots of kids running around the park. But something about this child gave him pause.
"Hi," he tentatively ventured.
"Hi," she looked up at him with a smile.
"I'm Jarod. What's your name?"
"I'm named for my mother," she said cryptically. He repeated her statement in his head as the little girl turned and skipped away.
"Wait," he called. "Are you coming back here?"
The little girl stopped for a moment, smiled again and replied, "You'll see me again. You'll see me very soon." Then she skittered away to join the other children. Jarod continued to stand there. Was she a harbinger? Was she a physical prediction? He tried to spot her again in the throng of children now lining up for their teacher. He couldn't pinpoint her, though.
And the more he thought about her, the less definite her features became. He couldn't even remember what color hair she had, just that he would see her again.
He finished his jog and went home to prepare dinner. It was the middle of the week and Parker usually stopped by to have a late supper with him. When seven past, the eight and nine, he got increasingly worried and wondered where Parker might be. It had started to rain over an hour ago and he fretted that she might have been in an accident.
He was just about to make another call to her office when he heard the front door open. She was soaked to the bone and even from the kitchen he could see that she'd been crying. He slowly approached her and quietly asked,
"What happened?"
She looked at him and there was so much pain and despair in her eyes. "Do you remember the Burke case?" she asked. He simply nodded his head knowing she was referring to the child abuse case that was thrown out on a technicality. "They returned the boy to his father a couple of days ago. And, and today the boy was found?" She started to cry all over again. Jarod quickly walked to her and enfolded her in his arms. She was wet and freezing and he could only think about how he wanted her to be warm again. "His father beat him to death," she continued. "I could have stopped it if it wasn't for those damn?, What kind of monster would do that to a child, their own child? You try everything you can but there's still so much evil in the world. I, I need to remember what love is. I need you to," she cut herself off as her lips finally found his.
He wanted to kiss all of her pain away. She was cold and tasted of rain and all he wanted to do was make love to her. He wanted to show her that there was still love in this world, that he loved her.
He pulled their mouths apart.
"I love you, Parker. I love you like I've never loved anyone in my life. I love you here and now, not just what you were and what you meant to me but what you are and what you'll become. Let me make love to you. Let me remind you."
She wrapped her arms tighter around him and gave her silent assent.
*****
She woke up the next morning humming. Literally. She was lying on her back and he had his hand resting on her stomach, talking in a low voice. The sounds he made were vibrating her whole body and she ran a hand across his shoulders to notify him that she was awake.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a groggy voice.
He turned so that he now faced her and lifted himself slightly off her body. He just smiled at her for a second, a wordless and wonderful "good morning."
"I was talking to our daughter."
She looked at him in shock and read his face to find that he was serious.
"Our daughter?"
"Yes. Our daughter," he repeated as he inched his body up so that it was parallel with hers. When his lips reached her, he planted a soft kiss on her bemused mouth.
"Honey," she finally stated when she regained her composure. "We made love twice," she paused when he held up three fingers, "O.K., three times last night. That doesn't guarantee that I'm pregnant and even then, there's only a 50% chance it's a girl. I know you're a genius with simulations and predictions but no one's that good."
"Well," he said with a smile as he toyed with her hair. "All I know is we're going to have a daughter in roughly nine months, so I guess you'd better go ahead and marry me."
She was in shock again. "O.K., first things first. You don't know that I'm pregnant with your daughter and second, that was a really shitty proposal."
"Alright. First, if I'm right, I get to choose our daughter's name and second, I know I should get down on one knee or I should plan some crazy, elaborate proposal, and hell, I don't even have a ring right now but I love you. I can't see my future unless you're in it. I don't want to marry you just because you're about to have my child. I want to marry you because every cell in my being screams for you. Because I've lived four years without you and they didn't feel right because you weren't in them. I want to come home to you every night. I want, I want everyone to know we belong to each other."
She was quiet for a moment. "First, I'll take your bet," she said in a low whisper. "And second, I've had enough of your crazy set-ups and I've had enough of being without you. I thought I'd never love again. I thought I could harden my heart to stop anyone from getting in. But you were already there. It just took the you that exists right now to crack the shell. Of course I'll marry you. I love you---." He cut her off with a kiss.
"Say it again," he asked.
"I love you," she said with a wide smile. "I love you but if you give our daughter some crazy unpronounceable name, I'll have to kill you."
******
Four Years Later
He rarely had nightmares anymore. When they were first married, the first time he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thrashing about, screaming, she didn't know what to do to stop them other than hold him in her arms and whisper soothing words. He used to have them every week but as time went on, they became less and less frequent. It had been six months since the last one and even that one wasn't very bad. She had gotten so used to them that she could sleep through the quieter ones. She'd only realize he'd had one when she'd reach out for him in sleep and he wasn't there or when her left side would suddenly get cooler. She always knew where he went, though. She'd pad down the hall to McCall's room and find him on her window seat, either placidly staring at their sleeping daughter or asleep himself. Tonight was no exception.
He was curled up on McCall's window seat, a blanket wrapped around his lower body, watching the steady rise and fall of their daughter's chest. Watching her sleep at night calmed him. When she was first born, she slept nestled between the two of them. Parker would drift off to sleep but Jarod would stay up the whole night marveling at her. When other new mothers complained about their husbands not getting up for late night feedings, Parker couldn't relate. In fact, she had the opposite problem. She rarely got to give McCall her midnight bottle because Jarod would already be up watching her, waiting for the time to feed her.
He was fascinated with her but not like she was a new toy or an inanimate object. He once told Parker that their daughter was the physical manifestation of everything that was right in this world. He loved her intensely. He had gone on sabbatical from teaching for her first year, then her second, then her third. It was only recently that he returned to teaching but even then only when McCall was also in school. She remembered when she gave birth, of course nine months to the day she and Jarod had first made love, and they asked her what the baby was to be named.
She deferred to Jarod, he had after all won their bet. She'd never forget the look on his face as he cradled his infant daughter and whispered,
"McCall Catherine Charles." Parker still couldn't believe he would choose that name but when he explained to the nurse that it was a much underused and underappreciated family name, she had to smile.
So McCall came into their lives and nothing was the same. She had once read that being a celebrity didn't make you a better or worse person, it just made you more of what you already were. If you were an asshole, fame would make you a royal asshole. That's what McCall did. She made Parker and Jarod more of what they already were. Jarod was an amazing father. He loved doing things with McCall. He'd read to her every night even though McCall, the product of two pretenders, could read at a fifth grade level. He loved taking her places because McCall had inherited his enthusiasm. He experienced his second childhood through her because McCall loved to share her joy of discoveries and Jarod was again able to see the world through her eyes, the newness of it delighting him as it amazed her.
And Parker, he thought Parker would make a good mother but she wasn't just a good mother, she was a phenomenal mother. All the affection for another she had stored up was given to McCall. She greeted everything McCall did with enthusiasm and love. He sometimes liked to bring McCall to the courthouse with him when Parker was arguing a case because he wanted McCall to see how strong her mother was. He also loved when the trial was over and McCall would run into Parker's arms and she would kiss their squirming child all over. Seeing the two of them, the two most important people in his life together like that was one of his many joys. Parker with her dark hair and intense blue eyes cradling their blond child.
McCall's physical features were another pleasant surprise. While she had inherited Jarod's large brown eyes, it was funny how she had curly blond hair instead of being a brunette like her parents. The contrast between some of McCall's features and Parker's always made him chuckle.
But there was never any doubt that McCall was her mother's daughter for while she had Jarod's happy-go-lucky disposition, she also had Parker's temper and drive. He watched McCall one time try to move a large rock for over an hour and every time he would ask if she needed help, she would tell him that she could do it herself. When she finally gave up and the foulness of her mood was evident, she shot the rock a look that reminded him so much of a look her mother would have given eight years before.
The thing that Parker and McCall did that made him happiest was a private thing just between the two of them. On Thursdays, he would uncover the outdoor hot tub and prepare it for Parker's evening return. When she'd come home, she'd strip off her clothing and soak in the whirlpool while he made dinner. McCall would come downstairs, take off her clothes and join Parker in the hot tub for a while.
McCall would sit in Parker's lap, her little legs clutched to Parker's waist, her arms loose around Parker's neck. The top of her little blond head would rest under Parker's chin and Parker would just hum, the vibrations echoing through McCall. They'd sit like that, pressed close, for about fifteen minutes then Parker would stand with McCall still wrapped around her and put on this huge terrycloth robe. The soft fabric would engulf she and McCall so that only the back of McCall's head would peek through the front. Parker would then recline in the hammock and talk with McCall about her day or week.
McCall would always ask Parker to tell her the story of how she and Jarod met and how she was born. And Parker would always tell her the story, minus a few details that weren't appropriate, and whisper to her that she was the most important thing in their lives.
"So you love me, Mommy?" A question that really wasn't a question for McCall always knew the answer.
"I love you more than all the love in the world. I love you with all that heaven will allow." A secret promise between the two of them, a game they played to let the other know how much these moments meant.
Their bodies would be flush against each other, the breeze slightly swaying the hammock, the slowly dipping sun running counter to the increasing sounds of June bugs. It was the only time of the day that McCall would really calm down and for an hour or so, she and Parker would sleep in each other's arms.
*****
"Did we have another nightmare?" Parker whispered to him, breaking him of his reverie.
"Not really," he whispered back. "It was a small one. It wasn't even about the Centre." He opened the blanket that was wrapped around him and silently invited her into his lap. She crawled in between his legs and closed the blanket, cocooning them in each other's warmth.
"What was life like before we were three?" he asked.
"You sound like Dr. Seuss."
"Life before you and McCall doesn't exist. I remember it like I remember a movie. It happened but not to me, you know?"
"I know. I used to think that I'd make a terrible mom. That my childhood was so fucked up that I couldn't possibly be good at raising a kid. But it seems just the opposite. Everything that was horrible about our childhood, all the love we missed has now come back around to us in the form of that little angel sleeping over there. It's ironic. But I wouldn't trade it. I wouldn't have a normal childhood if it diminished how much you and McCall mean to me." He hugged her closer.
"So how's teaching been?"
"It was a little difficult adjusting to not spending all day with McCall but I like it. I needed to get back to teaching and she needed to socialize with other kids. I don't think she'll have a problem with that, though. But she does get a little frustrated that no one's at her level."
"Well, no one will ever be at her level. She's off the charts. But I want her to have friends her own age and so does she so I think she's learning to deal with the intelligence difference between she and her peers. Oh, I don't have anything pressing tomorrow so I'm going to take McCall out to lunch after I pick her up so we can celebrate her first month of school."
"I have class until one so I can't meet you."
"It's okay. I want this to be a girl thing."
"Oh, we're already starting the exclusive ?girl thing."
"Well, there are Mommy activities and there are Daddy activities and guess which category this falls under."
"Are there any Mommy and Daddy activities?"
"You mean Mommy and Daddy and McCall activities or just Mommy and Daddy?"
"I think," he said as he nuzzled her neck, "I mean Mommy and Daddy activities."
"Hmmm," she said as her hands came to grip his thighs. "I can think of one activity that might interest you."
"Then lead on," he said as she rose, took his hand and led him back to their bedroom.
*****
After his first class, he went back to his office. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books and mementos of his travels. His desk was cluttered with papers and lots of pictures of Parker and McCall. It wasn't unusual for students to stop be unannounced so there was no reason the knock that came from the door should give him pause. But for some reason it did. As soon as he heard it he got an unexpected jolt to his stomach. He rose but could barely get his "Come in" out of his mouth.
When the door opened, there was an unknown man behind the door. Jarod could see he was a detective because of the police badge he wore around his neck.
"Dr. Jarod Charles?" the man asked.
Jarod silently nodded his head, his tongue had ceased to function.
"I'm sorry, Sir. We need you to come downtown."
That was all that registered. Jarod's knees buckled. He knew, he just knew. The last thing he remembered was the resolute thud of his temple hitting the linoleum floor.
******
"Sydney here."
"Hello? This is Dr. Sydney Green. Is anyone there?"
"All my life I thought the Centre would always haunt me. I thought that there was definite evil in the world but that I might be able to stop it."
"Jarod, is that you? What's wrong?"
"I looked over my shoulder for men in dark suits. I believed I stopped them, that we could be happy."
"Jarod, you're scaring me. What has happened?"
"You think there's some monster out to get you when sometimes, it's just random chance. It could have happened to anyone. No one was to blame."
"Dammit, Jarod. Where's Parker?"
"She's gone, Sydney. She and McCall are gone. I thought the Centre would take them from me. It wasn't that at all."
"Oh my god. What happened?"
"It was a car accident. She and McCall were on their way to lunch when the tire from another car blew. Parker tried to react but it was either the other car or the median. It didn't matter. They say they both died instantly. I simmed it out and they're right. McCall probably never knew. They couldn't do anything. Even if I'd been there, I would have been helpless."
"Jarod, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Did you know that McCall was allergic to strawberries? She loved the taste of them but they made her break out. Parker loved them, too. But she didn't want to tempt McCall. We'd sneak them into bed with us at night, though. I would make love to Parker with the taste of strawberries on her lips," he related in a calm, even voice.
"Jarod, I know this is hard for you---."
"Parker once said that McCall was starting to pick up a slight Southern accent. She'd call McCall her ?Magnolia Baby.' I didn't even really notice it until one day when McCall was riding with me on my bike through the garden squares and as she recounted the story of every fountain or statue we passed, she'd have a slight drawl on a few words. Parker said that McCall smelt like magnolias and molasses. Parker smelt like gardenias.
"Jarod, you're scaring me. You have to snap out of it. You have to get a grip on reality. You---."
"I've already made the arrangements. Sydney, I want you to scatter our ashes over the city and the sea. We loved it here. We found happiness here, if only briefly."
"Jarod, what are you talking about? Why are you saying ?our'? Jarod, you have to stop this. You have to grieve and go on."
He mirthlessly chuckled. "Go on. Go on to what? They were my life. If Parker had survived, we could have rebuilt and grieved together. If McCall were still here, I could be strong for her. I could've helped her remember her mother. But both of them." He finally broke down, wailing over the phone, his plaintive cries breaking Sydney's heart. "I know you want me to be strong, Sydney. But why? I will never love again. It wouldn't be fair to anyone else. She and I, we were meant to be. You don't go through what we went through, what we survived, for it not to be fate." He paused for a minute and collected himself. "But I guess with fate come chance."
"Jarod, don't do this."
"Promise me, Sydney. If you love me, if you ever loved her, you'll promise me. Don't try to call the authorities. I've already mixed up the cocktail.
Once I drink it, it will take less than a minute. I want us to be cremated together. Please promise me. It's the last thing I'll ever ask. It's the last thing you can ever do for me."
Through his tears, Sydney promised.
"Thank you. I'll be in our room." He disconnected the line. He was on autopilot. He already had the solution ready. It was waiting on his nightstand in a small plastic cup. A quick gulp, a shot of mortality and he would join them.
"I thought I could chase all our demons away," he said to the empty room. "But there are some demons you can't see. I'll be with you soon." He picked up the cup and downed the fatal mixture. He laid down on their bed, the smell of strawberries, magnolias, and gardenias surrounding him.
"I can't go on without you. I love you too much. I love you more than heaven will allow."
THE END
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Disclaimer: Characters and premise owned by god-knows-who now but still definitely not me. I don't own them, never have, never will. Anne Rice owns the premise and NBC owns the Pretender and its characters. Don't even try to sue, it would just be needlessly killing trees.
All That Heaven Will Allow
by Keeper March
It's amazing the way things fall apart. The end is sometimes just that, a stopping point. You can build things up in your head to be monumental and when they actually come to pass, they're so trivial. Most things go out with a whimper, not a bang.
She left that place, packed up and moved on without a backward glance. She walked in one Tuesday morning, hugged Sydney, kissed Broots on the cheek and walked into her father's office and said only two words as she handed him her resignation. Game Over.
She thought they'd come running, nameless men in dark suits, hired guns sent to deal with her like they did her mother. She thought her father might even put a bullet in the back of her head himself. But no, she walked out to her car and got in and shut the door and for one complete second, sound didn't exist, only the white-knuckle grip of her fingers on the wheel, so tight her joints ached from the pressure. When she finally released her hold, the sounds all around her came flooding in and she felt like she was hearing the world for the first time.
Her father never came for her, never sent anyone to retrieve her. He was preoccupied with his own survival. When everything came crashing down on him he ended it with a handgun in his mouth, seated behind his massive desk. Only part of it ended with him but a minor blow is usually enough to distract. The rest of the Centre fell with an almost gentle thud. No bells or whistles from the government or press but a quiet, efficient death. She found all of this out later from Sydney after he had relocated to Paris. Her brother also died in the aftermath. With no one to protect his appetites, his enemies dealt with him accordingly. Only his other thumb was ever found. It meant nothing to the authorities but everything to those who knew his past.
The rest of the Centre was an afterthought to her. It wasn't that she didn't care but she couldn't let herself care. After a year she contacted Sydney and found out that he and Broots had fled just in time. If they had left earlier, the Centre would have killed them and if they had waited, they would have been casualties of the fall. Broots had packed up his daughter and moved to the West Coast. He was a dot.com entrepreneur and lacked for nothing even if he didn't have that surprise windfall from Jarod in his bank account.
Sydney and Michelle had moved to Paris and to her surprise, Sydney adopted the Parker baby. He figured he'd been raising pretenders most of his life, why stop now? Besides, he had missed out on raising his own son.
She still hadn't contacted Jarod. She wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing but she knew Sydney would probably know. The last time she saw him had been four years ago. Their last embrace on the airstrip had been one of the defining moments of her life. If ever epiphanies existed, she'd had one that day. She asked him not to try and find her and he'd been as good as his word.
Four years but it seemed like a lifetime ago. She'd made great strides in those four years. She settled in Savannah, Georgia in a house on Wilmington Island. She loved the history and the pace of the South. She loved waking up on deep water as the tide was changing. She renamed herself Parker Oglethorpe after the state founder. She had a new name for a new life.
And even though she didn't have to work, she wanted to. She had a law degree from Harvard that she'd never put to good use and after a month of review, she was qualified to practice in Georgia. She put herself on the fast track and in short time she was an assistant district attorney. She was one of the best lawyers in the city but she had a reputation for not cutting deals, something her office found both rewarding and frustrating. She could slice open a defendant and was merciless on those that exploited the weak and abused, particularly children. The irony of that fact was not lost on her. She had taken up Jarod's banner and pet cause.
She found her life rewarding. She had a job she loved, a circle of friends she adored, and a house that was a sanctuary she couldn't live without. She dated occasionally but never seriously. She didn't know why she didn't contact Jarod yet. She just figured everything had a time and a place.
*****
After she left him, he was set adrift for a while. He wondered and fretted that he should have done something different. But in the end, he realized she was right. They'd both lived for other people so long that they didn't even know themselves. He stopped his pretending. The burden of his past seemed to lift off of him and he didn't feel the need to right wrongs that were never really his. He still helped people but the bitterness, the revenge and spite, were gone from him.
He traveled and graduated from the Sorbonne in record time. He still wasn't above forging some documentation if he knew the time requirements were pointless for someone in his unique position. He had taken a job as a professor of art history and loved interacting with his students. He was well liked by his colleagues. They always marveled at his extensive knowledge of so many other areas. It was a common joke around the faculty that Dr. Jarod Charles was the only art historian who was voted professor of the year by the students and wrote a book on nuclear physics.
He still had issues with his past and the South seemed like the perfect place to relocate to after he had read William Faulkner and Eudora Welty. He'd settled in a historic antebellum home downtown. He could walk to work and it was in one of the numerous garden squares that highlighted the city.
Everything in his life was going well except that he still occasionally missed her. She told him not to contact him so he honored that. He didn't ask Sydney where she was because that would be too great a temptation to see her. He just figured fate would bring them together.
*****
She'd accepted and invitation to a New Year's party. Her good friend Noah Ellison was a fellow A.D.A and even though they were complete opposites, she often accompanied him to big events. While she was content to dwell in anonymity, Noah had an eye towards a political career and used every opportunity to make new ties. She didn't mind that Noah only brought her because he couldn't exactly bring his boyfriend Henry. It was a chance for her to engage in witty conversation, eat hors d'oeuvres, and meet new people.
*****
Renee Mobley had cajoled him into attending she and her husband's New Year's party. They'd worked together on a few Art Guild events and Renee had immediately decided that finding him a wife was going to be one of her new projects. He tried to dissuade her but she and her husband Councilman Mobley were such nice people and they surrounded themselves with such engaging personalities that he couldn't turn them down. So he showed up at the black tie event ready to be charmed by Savannah's finest and unattached.
*****
The reason she loved attending functions with Noah was that he didn't hover over her. He'd grease palms while she talked with everyone else. She'd known Stanton Mobley for years now and it was in fact he that tagged her with the nickname, "The Knife" for the way she sliced through opponents.
She was making light banter with he and his wife when the oddest sensation spread over her. She couldn't name it but something was different, the room seemed somehow changed. She chalked it up to the Cristal and continued teasing Stanton about his racquetball game.
"Oh," smiled Renee, "Dr. Charles is here."
"Darling," intoned Stanton, "must you insist on setting that poor boy up with every woman in Georgia?"
"Well, Sugah, I just like seeing everyone in love the way that we are. Not to mention, a man of a certain age and a certain means should always have a wife. If I hadn't taken pity on you, your guests would be drinking from a keg," she teased with a bat of her eyelashes. "Besides, he's such a nice man, he should be starting a family. Look at it this way, I'm just helping increase the number of future voters."
Parker listened to their affectionate teasing and watched as Renee made a motion to someone over her shoulder.
"Dr. Charles, I'm going to help you start the New Year off right."
"Mrs. Mobley?"
At the sound of his voice, she abruptly turned around.
He had thought the woman standing next to the Mobley's looked familiar but when she turned around, all the air in his lungs somehow disappeared only to quickly rush back in .
"Jarod."
"Parker."
"I?"
"What are you doing?"
"Here?"
The older couple watched the two of them in amusement and confusion. Once he recognized her, Jarod couldn't help but reach for her. He had his hand on her hip and her hand rested on his forearm.
"I, I, I'm an A.D.A. I live fifteen minutes away on Wilmington," she related with shock. "what are you doing here?"
"I live here too. I'm a professor at the SCAD. I live in Johnson Square."
"A professor? Art, right?"
"Yeah," he said with a smile of recognition that she knew his preferences and passions. A comfortable silence ensued in which they both just looked at each other in shock and anticipation.
Sensing the moment was right, Renee broke in.
"So the two of you know each other?"
"We were childhood friends," Parker explained.
"But we haven't seen each other in a while," Jarod finished.
"Well," Renee said with a knowing smile. "Let me make the official reintroduction. Miss Parker Oglethorpe, I'd like to present Dr. Jarod Charles."
"Major Charles, huh?" she asked, a shared secret between the two old friends.
"Yeah, Parker," he said, placing emphasis on her decision to use her last name as her first.
"Well, I can see the two of you have a lot of catching up to do," said Stanton. "We'll leave you to it."
"Thanks," they both murmured, never taking their eyes from each other.
"Well," said Renee as she and her husband walked away arm-in-arm. "I think I can stop worrying about Jarod being unattached."
*****
Seeing her again was too much for him. He wanted to rush out with his feelings, tell her how much he missed her and how often he still thought of her. Instead, he fell back on polite observation.
"Your hair has gotten longer."
She still couldn't believe he was here, in Savannah, with her. He was still so beautiful but he had matured both physically and she could sense mentally and emotionally. She wasn't prepared for his presence. But he let her off the hook by not immediately asking her personal questions.
"Yeah, I didn't have to keep running all over the place so I let it grow out a little."
The reference to their previous roles made him smile.
"Let's go out on the terrace," he suggested.
She assented and gave him her arm as he escorted her into the cool night air. Savannah was having a mild winter so the temperature was such that it wasn't chilly but cooler, almost like an Indian summer. Once they were alone, he couldn't help but stare at her.
"Thank you," she said, turning to look at him.
"For what?"
"Dismantling the Centre. For, for a lot of things."
"Well, it was what you asked me to do. I've never really been able to deny you anything."
They continued to stand there looking at each other. There were so many things they wanted to say, so many questions they felt they had to ask.
"Did you come alone?" he finally managed to ask.
"No," she said and his heart gave a lurch. "My date's boyfriend doesn't like to attend these things." The meaning of that statement was in her eyes.
"I?" he started off but was interrupted by the end of the year countdown. As the crowd roared "Happy New Year," he thought the only thing to do, the appropriate thing to do was to grab her about the waist and kiss her.
She'd been waiting for that kiss all night. It was the culmination of everything the last four years had meant. Anticipation, regret, longing, and appreciation all collided. They kissed like they were each other's lifelines.
When they reluctantly broke apart, he still held her close and she whispered against his lips,
"Happy New Year. Did you make a wish?"
He pulled back a little to look in her eyes.
"There's no need to anymore."
She reluctantly excused herself from him in order to find Noah. When she found him, she politely pulled him aside and told him that she had a ride home.
"What happened? " he asked. "If I knew you were feeling ill or had to leave, we could have."
"No, it's not that. It's, it's just, oh man?"
A smile spread across Noah's face. "I've never seen "The Knife" flustered. You're ditching me for the man of your dreams, aren't you?" he teased.
"Oh Noah. Just as long as you aren't mad."
"I never stand in the way of true love. Or true lust, whichever case this may be. Just be safe."
"I don't have to worry about that," she said as she lightly kissed Noah's cheek. Jarod was waiting for her at the door, his SUV already pulled around to the curb. He walked her to the passenger side and helped her in and then got behind the wheel. He started to drive then it occurred to him that he didn't know where to go.
"Where to?" he asked
"Will you take me to my house?"
She gave him directions and in twenty minutes they were parked in front of her house. He didn't know what would happen next. He wanted to do forty things at once with her. He got out of the car and went around to escort her out of the Suburban.
At her front door, she paused.
"Jarod. I, I want to go slow. I want us to get to know each other as we are now. I don't want us to fall back on our pasts. I, I want to do this the normal way, as if we just met."
"O.K." he said, a little skeptical but willing to try it. "Can I come in for a nightcap?"
"Yes, of course, but no sex," she said in a rush, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.
He paused for a second, "I just wanted coffee."
Once inside her house, he looked around while she prepared their drinks. Her tastes were still the same. She still loved wood paneling and oversize chairs and couches with lots of chenille pillows. Books and various knickknacks were artistically scattered on shelves and tabletops. The house smelled of potpourri and felt as if she really lived in it, like it was an extension of her. To his surprise, she had the stained glass window he made her installed in one of the side windows.
"You have a boat," he remarked as she came back with two mugs of coffee.
"Yes, she replied as he sat on the couch and she in a chair opposite him. "Part of why I chose this house was that it's on deep water so I can go boating and swim. My mother taught me to swim and I've always loved the water."
Suddenly, every question, every emotion they had came pouring out. They stayed up all night talking, about their pasts, about what happened to them.
He loved it, loved hearing about things from her perspective. He loved answering questions about his family and Sydney and Broots.
She loved talking with him. He had greatly matured in the four years they were apart. He had lost some of his guilt but had gained a new perspective.
He was no longer the hopeless little boy he was at thirty but he wasn't jaded and cynical either. It occurred to her that he was a man. That was all, no more, no less. He wasn't a pretender or a lab rat or all of those other definitions anymore. He was just a man who knew himself and the rest of the world well enough not to be bogged down in expectation and disappointment.
They only stopped talking when the sun came streaming into the living room. She insisted that he sleep in her spare bedroom for the night. It was a little awkward, preparing for bed but not with each other. But she really wanted to know who he had become before she could pick up where they left off.
*****
That night started a pattern for them. For the next two weeks, they spent as much time together as possible. Sometimes he would sleep in her spare room and some nights she would stay in his. They quizzed each other on their preferences. She made him watch all her favorite movies and he made her listen to all his favorite songs. He knew her favorite color, her favorite scent and that her favorite fruit was strawberries. They had every meal together, most of them prepared by him. She loved that he had a gourmet kitchen installed in his home and that he was a culinary master. In between teaching his classes, he'd sit in on her trials. He was astounded at how passionate she was yet at the same time he could still catch glimpses of the Ice Queen. She's earned her nickname and loved punishing abusers. She took it hard when a particular child abuse case was thrown out on a technicality but she kept at it and he could see that she loved her job.
They were getting to know each other again and even if he didn't love her before, even if he had met her for the first time two weeks ago, he loved her now, he loved her anew. That thought hit him as he was taking his afternoon jog through the garden district. He had to stop for a minute, so great was the realization. He loved her. Not Miss Parker or the Ice Princess or even Daddy's Angel. He loved Parker Oglethorpe, this wholly different yet familiar person. It was as if all the other incarnations of her had lead to this, this perfect person for him.
He suddenly felt more alive and justified. It was as if the universe was revealing a mystery to him. They had finally arrived at this place, together. Even when he'd hoped and prayed, when he sometimes doubted, fate had come through for them. The magic of it was so overwhelming to him. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little girl playing by the fountain. That shouldn't have surprised him, there were lots of kids running around the park. But something about this child gave him pause.
"Hi," he tentatively ventured.
"Hi," she looked up at him with a smile.
"I'm Jarod. What's your name?"
"I'm named for my mother," she said cryptically. He repeated her statement in his head as the little girl turned and skipped away.
"Wait," he called. "Are you coming back here?"
The little girl stopped for a moment, smiled again and replied, "You'll see me again. You'll see me very soon." Then she skittered away to join the other children. Jarod continued to stand there. Was she a harbinger? Was she a physical prediction? He tried to spot her again in the throng of children now lining up for their teacher. He couldn't pinpoint her, though.
And the more he thought about her, the less definite her features became. He couldn't even remember what color hair she had, just that he would see her again.
He finished his jog and went home to prepare dinner. It was the middle of the week and Parker usually stopped by to have a late supper with him. When seven past, the eight and nine, he got increasingly worried and wondered where Parker might be. It had started to rain over an hour ago and he fretted that she might have been in an accident.
He was just about to make another call to her office when he heard the front door open. She was soaked to the bone and even from the kitchen he could see that she'd been crying. He slowly approached her and quietly asked,
"What happened?"
She looked at him and there was so much pain and despair in her eyes. "Do you remember the Burke case?" she asked. He simply nodded his head knowing she was referring to the child abuse case that was thrown out on a technicality. "They returned the boy to his father a couple of days ago. And, and today the boy was found?" She started to cry all over again. Jarod quickly walked to her and enfolded her in his arms. She was wet and freezing and he could only think about how he wanted her to be warm again. "His father beat him to death," she continued. "I could have stopped it if it wasn't for those damn?, What kind of monster would do that to a child, their own child? You try everything you can but there's still so much evil in the world. I, I need to remember what love is. I need you to," she cut herself off as her lips finally found his.
He wanted to kiss all of her pain away. She was cold and tasted of rain and all he wanted to do was make love to her. He wanted to show her that there was still love in this world, that he loved her.
He pulled their mouths apart.
"I love you, Parker. I love you like I've never loved anyone in my life. I love you here and now, not just what you were and what you meant to me but what you are and what you'll become. Let me make love to you. Let me remind you."
She wrapped her arms tighter around him and gave her silent assent.
*****
She woke up the next morning humming. Literally. She was lying on her back and he had his hand resting on her stomach, talking in a low voice. The sounds he made were vibrating her whole body and she ran a hand across his shoulders to notify him that she was awake.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a groggy voice.
He turned so that he now faced her and lifted himself slightly off her body. He just smiled at her for a second, a wordless and wonderful "good morning."
"I was talking to our daughter."
She looked at him in shock and read his face to find that he was serious.
"Our daughter?"
"Yes. Our daughter," he repeated as he inched his body up so that it was parallel with hers. When his lips reached her, he planted a soft kiss on her bemused mouth.
"Honey," she finally stated when she regained her composure. "We made love twice," she paused when he held up three fingers, "O.K., three times last night. That doesn't guarantee that I'm pregnant and even then, there's only a 50% chance it's a girl. I know you're a genius with simulations and predictions but no one's that good."
"Well," he said with a smile as he toyed with her hair. "All I know is we're going to have a daughter in roughly nine months, so I guess you'd better go ahead and marry me."
She was in shock again. "O.K., first things first. You don't know that I'm pregnant with your daughter and second, that was a really shitty proposal."
"Alright. First, if I'm right, I get to choose our daughter's name and second, I know I should get down on one knee or I should plan some crazy, elaborate proposal, and hell, I don't even have a ring right now but I love you. I can't see my future unless you're in it. I don't want to marry you just because you're about to have my child. I want to marry you because every cell in my being screams for you. Because I've lived four years without you and they didn't feel right because you weren't in them. I want to come home to you every night. I want, I want everyone to know we belong to each other."
She was quiet for a moment. "First, I'll take your bet," she said in a low whisper. "And second, I've had enough of your crazy set-ups and I've had enough of being without you. I thought I'd never love again. I thought I could harden my heart to stop anyone from getting in. But you were already there. It just took the you that exists right now to crack the shell. Of course I'll marry you. I love you---." He cut her off with a kiss.
"Say it again," he asked.
"I love you," she said with a wide smile. "I love you but if you give our daughter some crazy unpronounceable name, I'll have to kill you."
******
Four Years Later
He rarely had nightmares anymore. When they were first married, the first time he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thrashing about, screaming, she didn't know what to do to stop them other than hold him in her arms and whisper soothing words. He used to have them every week but as time went on, they became less and less frequent. It had been six months since the last one and even that one wasn't very bad. She had gotten so used to them that she could sleep through the quieter ones. She'd only realize he'd had one when she'd reach out for him in sleep and he wasn't there or when her left side would suddenly get cooler. She always knew where he went, though. She'd pad down the hall to McCall's room and find him on her window seat, either placidly staring at their sleeping daughter or asleep himself. Tonight was no exception.
He was curled up on McCall's window seat, a blanket wrapped around his lower body, watching the steady rise and fall of their daughter's chest. Watching her sleep at night calmed him. When she was first born, she slept nestled between the two of them. Parker would drift off to sleep but Jarod would stay up the whole night marveling at her. When other new mothers complained about their husbands not getting up for late night feedings, Parker couldn't relate. In fact, she had the opposite problem. She rarely got to give McCall her midnight bottle because Jarod would already be up watching her, waiting for the time to feed her.
He was fascinated with her but not like she was a new toy or an inanimate object. He once told Parker that their daughter was the physical manifestation of everything that was right in this world. He loved her intensely. He had gone on sabbatical from teaching for her first year, then her second, then her third. It was only recently that he returned to teaching but even then only when McCall was also in school. She remembered when she gave birth, of course nine months to the day she and Jarod had first made love, and they asked her what the baby was to be named.
She deferred to Jarod, he had after all won their bet. She'd never forget the look on his face as he cradled his infant daughter and whispered,
"McCall Catherine Charles." Parker still couldn't believe he would choose that name but when he explained to the nurse that it was a much underused and underappreciated family name, she had to smile.
So McCall came into their lives and nothing was the same. She had once read that being a celebrity didn't make you a better or worse person, it just made you more of what you already were. If you were an asshole, fame would make you a royal asshole. That's what McCall did. She made Parker and Jarod more of what they already were. Jarod was an amazing father. He loved doing things with McCall. He'd read to her every night even though McCall, the product of two pretenders, could read at a fifth grade level. He loved taking her places because McCall had inherited his enthusiasm. He experienced his second childhood through her because McCall loved to share her joy of discoveries and Jarod was again able to see the world through her eyes, the newness of it delighting him as it amazed her.
And Parker, he thought Parker would make a good mother but she wasn't just a good mother, she was a phenomenal mother. All the affection for another she had stored up was given to McCall. She greeted everything McCall did with enthusiasm and love. He sometimes liked to bring McCall to the courthouse with him when Parker was arguing a case because he wanted McCall to see how strong her mother was. He also loved when the trial was over and McCall would run into Parker's arms and she would kiss their squirming child all over. Seeing the two of them, the two most important people in his life together like that was one of his many joys. Parker with her dark hair and intense blue eyes cradling their blond child.
McCall's physical features were another pleasant surprise. While she had inherited Jarod's large brown eyes, it was funny how she had curly blond hair instead of being a brunette like her parents. The contrast between some of McCall's features and Parker's always made him chuckle.
But there was never any doubt that McCall was her mother's daughter for while she had Jarod's happy-go-lucky disposition, she also had Parker's temper and drive. He watched McCall one time try to move a large rock for over an hour and every time he would ask if she needed help, she would tell him that she could do it herself. When she finally gave up and the foulness of her mood was evident, she shot the rock a look that reminded him so much of a look her mother would have given eight years before.
The thing that Parker and McCall did that made him happiest was a private thing just between the two of them. On Thursdays, he would uncover the outdoor hot tub and prepare it for Parker's evening return. When she'd come home, she'd strip off her clothing and soak in the whirlpool while he made dinner. McCall would come downstairs, take off her clothes and join Parker in the hot tub for a while.
McCall would sit in Parker's lap, her little legs clutched to Parker's waist, her arms loose around Parker's neck. The top of her little blond head would rest under Parker's chin and Parker would just hum, the vibrations echoing through McCall. They'd sit like that, pressed close, for about fifteen minutes then Parker would stand with McCall still wrapped around her and put on this huge terrycloth robe. The soft fabric would engulf she and McCall so that only the back of McCall's head would peek through the front. Parker would then recline in the hammock and talk with McCall about her day or week.
McCall would always ask Parker to tell her the story of how she and Jarod met and how she was born. And Parker would always tell her the story, minus a few details that weren't appropriate, and whisper to her that she was the most important thing in their lives.
"So you love me, Mommy?" A question that really wasn't a question for McCall always knew the answer.
"I love you more than all the love in the world. I love you with all that heaven will allow." A secret promise between the two of them, a game they played to let the other know how much these moments meant.
Their bodies would be flush against each other, the breeze slightly swaying the hammock, the slowly dipping sun running counter to the increasing sounds of June bugs. It was the only time of the day that McCall would really calm down and for an hour or so, she and Parker would sleep in each other's arms.
*****
"Did we have another nightmare?" Parker whispered to him, breaking him of his reverie.
"Not really," he whispered back. "It was a small one. It wasn't even about the Centre." He opened the blanket that was wrapped around him and silently invited her into his lap. She crawled in between his legs and closed the blanket, cocooning them in each other's warmth.
"What was life like before we were three?" he asked.
"You sound like Dr. Seuss."
"Life before you and McCall doesn't exist. I remember it like I remember a movie. It happened but not to me, you know?"
"I know. I used to think that I'd make a terrible mom. That my childhood was so fucked up that I couldn't possibly be good at raising a kid. But it seems just the opposite. Everything that was horrible about our childhood, all the love we missed has now come back around to us in the form of that little angel sleeping over there. It's ironic. But I wouldn't trade it. I wouldn't have a normal childhood if it diminished how much you and McCall mean to me." He hugged her closer.
"So how's teaching been?"
"It was a little difficult adjusting to not spending all day with McCall but I like it. I needed to get back to teaching and she needed to socialize with other kids. I don't think she'll have a problem with that, though. But she does get a little frustrated that no one's at her level."
"Well, no one will ever be at her level. She's off the charts. But I want her to have friends her own age and so does she so I think she's learning to deal with the intelligence difference between she and her peers. Oh, I don't have anything pressing tomorrow so I'm going to take McCall out to lunch after I pick her up so we can celebrate her first month of school."
"I have class until one so I can't meet you."
"It's okay. I want this to be a girl thing."
"Oh, we're already starting the exclusive ?girl thing."
"Well, there are Mommy activities and there are Daddy activities and guess which category this falls under."
"Are there any Mommy and Daddy activities?"
"You mean Mommy and Daddy and McCall activities or just Mommy and Daddy?"
"I think," he said as he nuzzled her neck, "I mean Mommy and Daddy activities."
"Hmmm," she said as her hands came to grip his thighs. "I can think of one activity that might interest you."
"Then lead on," he said as she rose, took his hand and led him back to their bedroom.
*****
After his first class, he went back to his office. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books and mementos of his travels. His desk was cluttered with papers and lots of pictures of Parker and McCall. It wasn't unusual for students to stop be unannounced so there was no reason the knock that came from the door should give him pause. But for some reason it did. As soon as he heard it he got an unexpected jolt to his stomach. He rose but could barely get his "Come in" out of his mouth.
When the door opened, there was an unknown man behind the door. Jarod could see he was a detective because of the police badge he wore around his neck.
"Dr. Jarod Charles?" the man asked.
Jarod silently nodded his head, his tongue had ceased to function.
"I'm sorry, Sir. We need you to come downtown."
That was all that registered. Jarod's knees buckled. He knew, he just knew. The last thing he remembered was the resolute thud of his temple hitting the linoleum floor.
******
"Sydney here."
"Hello? This is Dr. Sydney Green. Is anyone there?"
"All my life I thought the Centre would always haunt me. I thought that there was definite evil in the world but that I might be able to stop it."
"Jarod, is that you? What's wrong?"
"I looked over my shoulder for men in dark suits. I believed I stopped them, that we could be happy."
"Jarod, you're scaring me. What has happened?"
"You think there's some monster out to get you when sometimes, it's just random chance. It could have happened to anyone. No one was to blame."
"Dammit, Jarod. Where's Parker?"
"She's gone, Sydney. She and McCall are gone. I thought the Centre would take them from me. It wasn't that at all."
"Oh my god. What happened?"
"It was a car accident. She and McCall were on their way to lunch when the tire from another car blew. Parker tried to react but it was either the other car or the median. It didn't matter. They say they both died instantly. I simmed it out and they're right. McCall probably never knew. They couldn't do anything. Even if I'd been there, I would have been helpless."
"Jarod, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Did you know that McCall was allergic to strawberries? She loved the taste of them but they made her break out. Parker loved them, too. But she didn't want to tempt McCall. We'd sneak them into bed with us at night, though. I would make love to Parker with the taste of strawberries on her lips," he related in a calm, even voice.
"Jarod, I know this is hard for you---."
"Parker once said that McCall was starting to pick up a slight Southern accent. She'd call McCall her ?Magnolia Baby.' I didn't even really notice it until one day when McCall was riding with me on my bike through the garden squares and as she recounted the story of every fountain or statue we passed, she'd have a slight drawl on a few words. Parker said that McCall smelt like magnolias and molasses. Parker smelt like gardenias.
"Jarod, you're scaring me. You have to snap out of it. You have to get a grip on reality. You---."
"I've already made the arrangements. Sydney, I want you to scatter our ashes over the city and the sea. We loved it here. We found happiness here, if only briefly."
"Jarod, what are you talking about? Why are you saying ?our'? Jarod, you have to stop this. You have to grieve and go on."
He mirthlessly chuckled. "Go on. Go on to what? They were my life. If Parker had survived, we could have rebuilt and grieved together. If McCall were still here, I could be strong for her. I could've helped her remember her mother. But both of them." He finally broke down, wailing over the phone, his plaintive cries breaking Sydney's heart. "I know you want me to be strong, Sydney. But why? I will never love again. It wouldn't be fair to anyone else. She and I, we were meant to be. You don't go through what we went through, what we survived, for it not to be fate." He paused for a minute and collected himself. "But I guess with fate come chance."
"Jarod, don't do this."
"Promise me, Sydney. If you love me, if you ever loved her, you'll promise me. Don't try to call the authorities. I've already mixed up the cocktail.
Once I drink it, it will take less than a minute. I want us to be cremated together. Please promise me. It's the last thing I'll ever ask. It's the last thing you can ever do for me."
Through his tears, Sydney promised.
"Thank you. I'll be in our room." He disconnected the line. He was on autopilot. He already had the solution ready. It was waiting on his nightstand in a small plastic cup. A quick gulp, a shot of mortality and he would join them.
"I thought I could chase all our demons away," he said to the empty room. "But there are some demons you can't see. I'll be with you soon." He picked up the cup and downed the fatal mixture. He laid down on their bed, the smell of strawberries, magnolias, and gardenias surrounding him.
"I can't go on without you. I love you too much. I love you more than heaven will allow."
THE END
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