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Chapter or Story
The Visit - by MMB
Chapter 6: Reawakenings
Under normal conditions, Sydney had no use for and generally got peeved at being bombarded by “elevator music” when he was shopping. He understood the psychological principle being put to work and didn't appreciate the manipulative concept whatsoever. But then, department stores were in the business of making money - and the music, however subliminal it might be, did seem to give an up-boost to the amount of profit an establishment could hope to net at the end of the day.
But today was different. Today he was putting up with the music because he was generally enjoying his day and the company he was keeping. Parker... not “MISS Parker” anymore... was looking for something light and flowing to wear to the potluck and dance she was attending that evening with Paul Ruiz - and she had convinced him to come along and offer a man's perspective on her selections. Not that he minded much or needed much convincing to come along - his “daughter” was blossoming, and he didn't want to miss one moment of the process.
"What do you think?"
He looked up toward the entrance to the dressing rooms, and then blinked. Parker's choice was a sleeveless and ankle-length number in light floral polyester that hugged her slender shape demurely and then folded provocatively about her legs. Combined with the new haircut that accentuated and invited her natural curls to brush at her shoulders and frame her face, he could hardly recognize her for the razor-sharp and hard-as-nails executive she used to be.
He rose to his feet and smiled one of his truly rare, wide and full smiles that lit every last corner and crevasse of his face. "You look stunning," he finally managed with a shake of his head. "Poor Paul's not going to know what hit him."
Parker gleamed. She'd seen the lights come on in his eyes as she'd walked out, and the expression on his face had been priceless. "The other one is a powder blue - which do you think, Papa..."
"No, no, ma petite. THIS is the one you want - trust me!" His gaze turned into a frank stare of masculine appreciation. The cream color of the dress made the light tan that she'd been working on during warm afternoons on the balcony give her a glow of health that she'd not had for years. To finish the effect, the blue of the small cornflowers in the print made the grey of her eyes look like a hazy morning in August. "Go run and put on the other one so I can see you in it, but do wear THIS one tonight."
She shot him a bright smile and bounced back toward the dressing room and the other dress. What a treat it was to be shopping with her Papa - to have a father's undivided attention and perspective at her command. All her life she'd wanted to be able to have her father's help in guiding her choices - in clothing, in friends, in life in general - only to remain disappointed and ignored, if not outright rejected or abused. It had taken a brush with death and then hitting absolute bottom physically and emotionally to discover that the man she'd been wanting all those years to spend quality time with had NOT been her father but rather the old friend standing patiently at her side all along. He had come for her and literally rescued her from death's door to give her a new life. Now, as far as she was concerned, Sydney - whom she had once cynically called “Freud,” “Dr. Frankenstein,” “Dr. Mengele,” or any number of other scathing epithets over the years - was and would always be “Papa.”
She hung the cream-colored dress back on its hanger and drew the blue one over her head, then looked at herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw as she twisted and turned and viewed herself from various angles, and so she trotted out to show off again with a sparkle in her eye.
"What about this one?" she asked, then spun for him.
Sydney chuckled at her high spirits. "Save that one for the next chess night, sweetheart. You'll have him so distracted, I won't have to work hard to beat him."
"Shame on you," she chided with a grin. "That means I'll have to break down and kibbitz into his ear after all."
"As if you intended doing anything else anyway," he shook his head at her. "Are there any others that you were going to try on?"
"Nope. That's it." She twirled and looked at herself in the tri-mirror. "So you think I should get them both?"
"Absolutely," he answered easily. "And I'll be over there while you change - I saw something I wanted to check out." He gestured noncommittally into the store and then ambled off.
Parker's brows arched as she noted her Papa wandering off through the women's clothing racks, wondering just what it was that he'd seen. She shrugged and headed back toward the dressing room. Shopping for clothing had always been a comfort activity for her - and now, with Papa in tow, it was a sheer joy. She'd found a light denim jacket and two comfortably light shell blouses for an intermediate level of dress - not formal, not severe, but sharp and classy. Something that brought home the fact that she was shopping for a new life that DIDN'T include constantly being a fashion plate.
Her selections had been made with an eye for the kind of dress a working woman wore in this much-different climate. When the time came, she knew she'd feel comfortable wearing them to a job interview. She knew she wasn't physically up to the demands of looking for work quite yet - and, to be honest, she was finally enjoying her Papa's pampering and spoiling - but the time would come soon enough that she'd want to be doing something with her life. She was starting to look forward to her new life, her fresh start; and staying at home for the rest of her life was not a part of that. She slipped quickly back into the light trousers and top that she'd put on that morning grabbed her purse and then draped her purchases over her arm to carry to the checkout counter.
Another hurdle had also been cleared that morning before the shopping trip - the checkbook that now resided in her purse was in the name of “Parker Green” with Papa's address. Eventually she would have a driver's license number printed there too - but not yet. She had however reserved a healthy amount of cash to make purchases like this with until her personalized checks came by mail.
Still nervous about the possibility of having left a paper trail behind for the Centre to follow, she had called and withdrawn the money from her previous account in cash. Because her account had been a sizeable one, she'd called the bank the afternoon before to warn them what she'd be doing so they would have the cash on hand to give her. She'd then turned around and taken that cash into another branch of Sydney's bank and opened several new smaller accounts entirely - two savings accounts as well as a checking account. She still didn't feel entirely safe, but there was a measure of satisfaction knowing that the paper trail on "Miss Parker" ended with the withdrawal. She had also left Sydney behind in the car waiting for her so as to leave no video clues as to how or why she had chosen that bank in the first place.
Sydney was waiting for her at the checkout counter with a bag of his own in his hand. "What's that?" she asked as she deposited the dresses and other tops to be rung up.
"You'll see," he answered cryptically with a smile. "Later." He chuckled as a look of purely mischievous curiosity filled her face and she began to lean. He pulled it behind his back. "And no peeking."
"Papa!"
The clerk smiled to watch the interplay between this father and daughter. These two obviously were very close - few men other than doting fathers or husbands would have shown the patience this distinguished and very cosmopolitan older gentleman had while waiting to see this pretty younger lady try on clothing. The clerk quickly and expertly ran the tags over the barcode reader then announced the final cost while folding the garments to put them in the bags.
Parker paid the woman in cash, amazed at herself for not having blown a fortune like she used to do but still having found quality clothing that made her look good nonetheless. She put her wallet away and took the bag from the clerk, then threaded her hand onto Sydney's arm. "So," she asked with a twinkle in her eye, "where are you taking ME for lunch today?"
"Depends," Sydney replied as the two of them found their way out onto the mezzanine of the vast mall. "How hungry are you?"
"I'd be happy with just a salad or some soup," she answered. "I have a potluck to go to tonight, remember?"
"How could I forget? You've been talking of little else all day..."
She rolled her eye, which made him chuckle again - as did her exasperated, "Papa!"
"No, really." Sydney patted the hand at his arm indulgently. "It does me good to see you looking forward to something with this much anticipation. You haven't been this up for a very long time."
"I don't remember the last time I felt this good inside," Parker admitted to him, tightening her hold on his arm. "I'm starting to wonder if this is all a dream, and I'm going to wake up in my own bed in the summerhouse looking forward to another dismal day waiting for Raines to eat me alive."
"That was another lifetime, Parker. You're safe here - and one of these days, you'll start to believe it too."
"God, I hope so." She pulled herself just a bit closer to her Papa and held on just a bit tighter yet. Sydney patted her hand again, wishing that the time would come quickly when just the thought of her former life didn't erode her self-assurance.
They sauntered down the mall until they found the massive food court, where several fast food enterprises of all different kinds catered to the mall clientele. "How about Japanese today," Parker suggested suddenly. "I haven't had good sushi since Tokyo - although today I think I'm more in the mood for a California roll..."
"I'm not much of a fan of sushi," Sydney admitted. "I never did develop a taste for it. So how about you order your California rolls, and then I'll go over there and see what kind of pasta they have today while you find us a table."
"My God!" Parker's hand at his arm suddenly tightened painfully. "Sydney, look!" With a frown at her suddenly reverting to calling him by name, Sydney turned to see what it was that had so shocked her to find three dark suited men walking quickly in their direction with extremely determined looks on their faces.
"It's alright," he soothed, putting his arm around her and pulling her into him so that she could hide her face on his shoulder as the men drew steadily nearer. He could feel her trembling as she watched as one of the men reached inside his jacket for something. "It's not what you think..."
"I can't go back. I can't let them take me back," she whimpered miserably, and suddenly Sydney had to hold onto her tightly to keep her from bolting from his side.
"Hush, sweetheart," he shushed at her firmly. "Don't panic. I'm right here..."
The dark suited man had drawn a cell phone from his jacket and was now speaking to someone on the other end of the line. The trio walked straight up to and then past the older gentleman with the woman in his arms, not once looking either of the mall shopping pair in the face as they passed on either side of them.
"See? They weren't sweepers, Parker - just businessmen," Sydney soothed, running his hand back and forth across her shoulder to help her calm down. "Easy. I told you that you were safe here. You're OK."
He could feel the moment she let go of her tension - she sagged against him limply. "I feel like such a ninny..."
"Withdrawals, Parker, remember?" he reminded her gently, then pushed at her to get her to stand on her own again. "Just because we know where some of them come from doesn't mean you're finished with them yet." Indeed, she'd had yet another of her nightmares the night before - awakening him yet again with her screams and needing to be held and comforted for a while before she could go back to sleep - as had been the pattern for days now. She had calmed faster this time for having had the memory that was causing her such anguish returned to her, although he knew that full recovery from such a horrific experience would take a while yet.
"I can't live like this..."
He took her shoulders firmly in his hands, and his voice was strong and determined. "Yes, you can." His chestnut gaze was warm and encouraging - and almost fiercely protective. "Don't let little setbacks like this one throw you so badly. You're stronger than that. Have a little patience - and a little faith in yourself."
The sparkle had died in her grey eyes. "Can we just go home, please?" she asked softly.
"Uh-unh." Sydney shook his head. "You were going to order some California rolls for yourself, and I was going to have pasta." She opened her mouth to protest, only to have him put a finger over her lips and prevent a single word from escaping. "No. Listen to your Papa now. You're OK - you gave yourself a scare, but you've survived it - and now we're going to have lunch. You don't need to retreat back into a hole and hide all the time anymore. You need to remember how to catch your balance again and keep going."
"I'm really tired..."
"I know, sweetheart - I am too. This has been a big day so far - and for you especially. That's why we need to sit down and take a break - relax and enjoy a nice lunch - not walk half a mile back to the car right away." Sydney took her hand and threaded it into his elbow again. "C'mon - let's order your California rolls."
~~~~~~~~
Papa had been right, Parker thought to herself as she stood patiently breaking the shells from the hard-boiled eggs that she was going to make into Deviled Eggs for the potluck, she had needed to remember how to recover her balance. And as if to prove his statement, much of her energy and good mood had returned in the time it had taken for them to order and then eat their lunch at the mall. She smiled at herself. He had always known her better than she'd known herself - and how she depended on that now!
Rather than allowing her to dwell on her mistaking businessmen for sweepers, Papa had directed their lunchtime discussion to center around the other steps that she still needed to take in order to establish herself in her new life. Consequently, she had made tentative plans for such things as getting a driver's license and perhaps a car of her own - to give herself a sense of autonomy and independence again. The discussion then had moved on to what kind of job she might want to start looking for eventually - and how she would know when she was ready to begin looking.
She peeked around the corner of the kitchen into the living room, where Papa was sitting on the couch with his reading glasses perched on his nose, devouring the daily newspaper as he did everyday at this time. He'd had no objection to any of her plans or the timeframes for them, and he'd been very helpful in helping her think through just what kind of work she was qualified to do. It surprised neither of them to discover that she wanted nothing further to do with the corporate scene - both of them agreeing that the last thing she needed was to willingly step into another Centre-like situation.
One option that occurred to both of them almost immediately was to investigate the security field - make beneficial use of the nearly fifteen years she'd spent in that kind of endeavor. Almost as an afterthought, however, she had reminded him that she had a law degree buried under those nearly fifteen years' worth of disuse. With a sly grin he had suggested that she talk to Paul about whom she should talk to at the university to bring her degree up to date and current to pass the Arizona bar exam.
Paul. She smiled as she began cutting the eggs in half and popping the yolks into a separate bowl, her mind spinning with curiosity and anticipation for the evening. The potluck and dance tonight were a new experience - another small step out of her old life and into the new. Potlucks had always been beneath the Parkers - at least, that was how “Daddy” had trained her. They were for the “little people” who did the work. Never mind how she had noticed that those people always seemed to enjoy those meals where everybody brought something different, a Parker never broke bread with the help just to socialize. But she wasn't a Parker anymore - she was a Green - and Papa was actively encouraging this time with Paul.
A glance at the clock told her she still had an hour before Paul would be by to escort her. Then she looked up and smiled as Papa came around the corner and leaned against the counter to watch her work. "How's it going?" he asked gently.
"Fine," she replied, taking a fork and breaking up the cooked yolks into small crumbs. "I haven't made these since..." She thought for a moment. "I think the last time I made these, it was for Thomas."
Sydney watched her face closely, and the mention of her murdered old flame's name didn't bring the slightest hint of remorse or hurt. The fact gave him hope - at least one bad scar was finally fading, maybe the others would too, in time... "Good memories?"
The smile on her face was a fond one. "Yeah - considering that Tommy was the one who was the better cook. About the only thing I COULD make when we first got together were Deviled Eggs."
"Could you leave me a couple, so I don't have to feel completely left out?" The exaggerated plaintive tone made her chuckle.
"You could just come to the potluck and have all you wanted," she teased him back, watching the look of mock horror spread.
He shook his head. "And have to fend off Lydia Simmons all evening? I don't think so..." He looked at her indulgently. "Besides, this is your evening to knock Paul for a loop - I don't want to get in the way of that."
"Papa, are you trying to play matchmaker?" Her grey eyes were wide and guileless.
"No," he answered slowly as he watched her spoon the condiments into the yolks casually, obviously measuring by eye, "I just know when a father should be sticking his nose into his daughter's business, and when he should stay out of things."
"I've had too many years of having a father who did nothing BUT stay out of things," she said with a touch of wistfulness. "You may find this hard to believe, but I like the idea of having you watch over my shoulder. Besides," she turned to him with a soft smile, "I was kinda hoping I could talk you into dancing with me later. Please?" Now it was her turn to turn on the plaintive tone.
"You're going to be wanting to dance with Paul, ma petite," he reminded her with a gentle hand to cup her face for a brief moment.
Her eyes dropped to watch what she was doing with mixing the yolks. "Yes," she admitted frankly, "but I'd like a chance to dance with you too. Kind of a celebration of sorts."
"Oh?" His eyebrows rose. "And what are we celebrating?"
"My new life." Grey met chestnut. "Please."
When she put it that way, Sydney could deny her nothing. "For you, ma cheri, only for you." He kissed her cheek. "And only if you'll protect me from Lydia."
Parker laughed out loud at that, and kissed him back. "I think we can keep you fairly well protected from the flowing dowager seeking to entrap you into a marital Hell, Papa."
~~~~~~~~
Sydney pulled his sleeveless sweater-vest over his shirt and suspenders and then walked toward his bathroom to brush his longish silver hair back into impeccable order. He hadn't attended one of these complex functions for months - ever since his casual friendship with the woman Parker called ”the flowing dowager” had somehow put it into her mind that he was good husband material. And frankly, he had missed the socialization with the complex community - after all, it had been at a potluck that he'd met Paul and discovered their mutual passion for chess. Maybe the time had come for him to let Lydia know of his acute lack of interest in her conjugal plans so that he could return to enjoying the active schedule of events the homeowner's association had set up.
Satisfied now that he was appropriately groomed, he reached for the bag from the department store he'd stored in an out-of-the-way corner of his closet and quickly cut the price tag from his purchase with some cuticle scissors. This would compliment Parker's new dress admirably, he thought to himself and smiled. What a treat it was to be able to buy her a gift and not have to worry about its reception.
He glanced at his watch - he had ten minutes before Paul was scheduled to arrive. He carefully put his purchase back into the bag, landed the bag on the end of the bed and then pulled open a dresser drawer to remove a crushed velour jewelry box. He ran his hand over it, remembering how it used to sit on his mother's dresser. It had been returned to him as part of settling Jacob's estate, along with the other items rescued from war-torn Lyons that Jacob had taken for his own. He opened the box and removed one of the few items it still held, then closed it and replaced it in the drawer. The piece of jewelry in one hand, the bag in the other, he opened his bedroom door and walked across the hall to Parker's and knocked.
"Are you decent?"
"Come in, I'm almost ready," her voice called through the door. He pushed the door open to find Parker seated at the vanity brushing her curls. She looked at him through the mirror and smiled as she put down the hairbrush. "You look very dapper tonight, Papa."
"And you look magnificent," he replied with a gaze of pure pride. "And I have something - actually a COUPLE of somethings - for you."
"You mean what was in that bag you wouldn't let me peek into?" she grinned mischievously.
"Yes," he admitted slowly, "but something else first. Do me a favor and close your eyes."
"Papa..."
"Trust me, Parker. Close your eyes."
Without a single thought, Parker closed her eyes with a huff of frustrated curiosity. Sydney moved quietly behind her and dropped the pendant over her head and had the clasp fastened around her neck even as her hand came up to touch the stone tentatively. "Sydney..." she gasped as she opened her eyes and saw the deep sparkle of the blue topaz reflecting the cornflower blue of her dress from amid the circle of tiny diamonds.
"Uh-unh," he shook his head. "Papa. In this new life we're celebrating tonight, you are my daughter. That means that this was your grandmother's - my mother's. Jacob and I weren't able to save many of her nice things after the war, but this..." He smiled softly in reminiscence. "The jewelry box was buried in the debris of our house in Lyons. I think she'd approve of your having it - and it deserves to be worn again by one of the family."
"Papa," she started, almost too choked to speak. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"Thank YOU, Parker," Sydney whispered, dropping a kiss into the fountain of curls on the top of her head, "for giving me a chance to be a father to you. You have no idea how much it means to me to be able to claim you as my own after all this time."
"I have something for you too," Parker managed finally, after swallowing hard against the lump in her throat at the stunningly beautiful pendant and the expression of caring. She turned on her vanity stool and reached for his right hand. "I've been thinking about this all day. This is a part of the life I'm leaving behind me tonight - I'm hoping you'll wear it and remember that we BOTH have a new life now. We're both moving on, and it's only right that it move on as well." She looked down and pulled the square silver ring from her left forefinger that she had worn her entire adult life and slipped it on his right pinky when it turned out too small for his ring finger.
"Parker..." He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You don't have to give me anything..."
She stroked the hand that now wore her ring, and then sandwiched it between her two hands. "You've given me so much. Let me give this to you, Sydney. As Miss Parker, I'll will never ask another favor of you again; because Miss Parker will be disappearing in just a minute or two, and she'll not be coming back again - ever. So, please..."
He pulled his hand from hers and looked at it, then reached up and settled it just a bit more firmly on his finger. "I'll be glad to, Miss Parker. Thank you." His voice cracked a bit on the last phrase, and he too was having to swallow hard against a lump of emotion. Then, when he'd conquered his feelings again, he reached down both hands and drew her to her feet. "And, last but not least..." He reached into the bag that he'd put at his feet and drew out the lightly knit and fringed white shawl shot through with occasional gold threads and draped it about her shoulders. "Le piece de resistance." He stepped back to survey the effect. "You are gorgeous, ma petite. Magnifique."
Parker turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror. The shawl lay about her shoulders as if made for the dress, and the color in her cheeks accented the sparkle of her eyes. "It's beautiful, Papa. Thank you."
There was a knock on the door, and Sydney watched the excitement heighten the color in his daughter's cheeks just that much more. "You get the door, ma petite. I'll go for the eggs."
He paused on the way to the kitchen so as to catch sight of Paul's face when the university professor got his first good look at Parker. The slight drop of the jaw and widening of the eyes were worth it, and the psychiatrist chuckled his way into the kitchen to pull the foil-covered platter from the fridge. "Hello, pretty lady!" he heard the rich baritone chime in pleased surprise. "I swear, you get prettier every time I see you!"
Parker blushed. "Thank you. Uh... Papa decided to come along after all," she continued happily, contented with the reception her outfit had received and his response. Not that she was at all displeased with what had appeared at the front door - Paul was a study in different values of grey, from his trousers to his shirt and tie to the silken vest.
"Did he now?" Paul's steel-grey eyebrows were halfway to his hairline as he saw Sydney emerge from the kitchen bearing the Green family's offering to the potluck. "You're a brave man, Sydney Green, to willingly face the likes of the Dragon Lady Simmons..."
"Oh shut up," Sydney grumbled good-naturedly. "Parker promised me that you two would help defend me from Lydia."
"All you have to do is just tell her a nice, loud, firm “No,” you know..." Paul chuckled at his friend. "You really have to quit worrying about hurting that woman's feelings, Sydney - she doesn't have any to begin with."
"I'm a psychiatrist," Sydney reminded his friend archly, "feelings are what I deal with."
Parker leaned toward him. "Papa, you have a RIGHT to say no to her..." At his thoroughly unconvinced look, she shrugged. "Paul and I will do what we can, though, won't we?" She looked up into Paul's face.
"For you, pretty lady, anything." Paul found himself beginning to get lost in those storm-grey eyes. It was the kind of feeling he hadn't had for a very long time. He looked away to find Sydney watching him with a look of indulgent patience. "She's very persuasive, isn't she?"
The psychiatrist chuckled. "She's had me wrapped around her little finger since she was quite young," he replied far more honestly than Paul could possibly appreciate, then gestured with the foil-wrapped pan. "Shall we?"
"Where's your contribution?" Parker asked as Paul reclaimed her hand at the bottom of the stairs and replaced it at his elbow.
"I've already stopped by the clubhouse and dropped it off," he explained. "After all, I live on the other side of the complex and had to walk by it to get to you."
Parker found herself flabbergasted by the number of people moving in and around the clubhouse, and Paul felt her slight hesitation. "The whole complex comes out for these once a month potlucks and dances," he told her as he slowed to match her pace. "Even the families with kids show up for these."
It was the truth. The homeowner's association had wisely set up tables and chairs on the patio area, and the inside was filled with enough long tables and chairs to approximate a banquet hall. The noise level was higher with the boisterous voices of happy children coming from all parts of the building. "You two save me a place in line," Sydney announced, "while I go deliver these."
Paul straightened to his full height and looked around the hall. "You know, I don't see Lydia at all this evening."
"Is she really as bad as he makes her out to be?" Parker asked as quietly as she could and still make herself heard.
"Not really," Paul laughed. "Most of us who've been here for a while know her to be a slightly daft lady who's wealthy enough to behave outrageously and actually get away with it. Wait until another mature and unattached man moves in - she'll drop your Dad like a hot potato and start hovering over the new guy like a bee over jelly."
Her grey eyes stared up into his twinkling hazel in surprise. "Have you told Papa this?"
"I tried to warn him the first time I met him - before Lydia got to him," her companion admitted, "but I haven't had the heart to try since then. I can't help it if he didn't believe me..."
"You scoundrel!" The grey eyes narrowed slightly. "You're enjoying watching him squirm!"
"There IS that..." Paul smiled a thoroughly wicked smile and then leaned in close. "But please, don't tell him. A new guy, a retired doctor, HAS just moved in - and this guy bought a whole lot closer to her place than your Dad's is. I figure he'll get the message in just a little while when Lydia stops hanging over him and turns her attention to the new guy."
Her lips broke into a tiny smirk. "Alright - I won't say anything for as long as you promise to keep “defending” him with me until he gets it."
Paul laughed a full and hearty laugh then. Sydney's daughter could be as full of mischief as he was! "For you, pretty lady, anything!"
"What did I miss?" Sydney asked as he joined the pair at the table holding the place settings for the meal.
"Nothing," the pair said in unison, then looked at each other and chuckled.
"That's either encouraging, or seriously disturbing," the older man pronounced carefully, his gaze moving smoothly back and forth between the two and finally alighting on Paul. "And knowing you, I have a feeling it's the latter." He looked around at the people at the tables. "Is she here?"
"I haven't seen her," Paul told him truthfully as he handed his friend a paper plate. "Lucky you to have chosen the one potluck that Lydia decides not to make her dramatic appearance..."
"Stop it." Parker swatted at her companion's arm playfully, then reached for the plastic utensils. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Papa. Let's just enjoy the evening."
~~~~~~~~
The music from the jazz pianist and the bass player flowed over the remaining adults in the clubhouse like a cool breeze, and the floor space that had been cleared in front of the musicians contained several couples moving together. The hour was getting late, and most of the children had already been taken off to homework and bed by watchful parents, leaving only those who intended to enjoy the music and dancing occupying the clubhouse. Most of the long tables and chairs had been put away - a communal effort that had cleaned the hall of all signs of hosting a rather large dinner in less than half an hour.
Sydney looked about the room, fully aware that he wasn't the only one in the hall who was watching the pair on the dance floor that was Paul and Parker - they were an incredibly handsome and striking pair after all. Over the course of the evening, several of the eligible ladies, with or without children, had worn expressions of serious disappointment when Paul very obviously and consistently showered his attention on Parker alone. Sydney smiled - Paul was considered quite a catch, and had been gallantly resisting the charms of this resident or that for long since before he had made the professor's acquaintance.
Right now the dancers were swaying gently to the music, with Paul's arms looped loosely around Parker's waist and her arms looped up and over his shoulders, talking softly and occasionally chuckling together over something private. The evening, as far as Sydney was concerned, had been an unqualified success. The banter among the three of them during the meal had flown fast and furious, with Parker this time a full and capable participant in the verbal high jinx - both giving as well as receiving her fair share of ribbing. The relaxed smile that was coming so easily to her face that evening was like a gift - something he'd wanted for her for so long, and finally had seen come to pass.
And now the two dancers seemed to have eyes for no one else in the room as they swayed together to the music, apparently oblivious of the other couples that moved rhythmically with them. He had had a hunch that those two would hit it off, once Parker had recovered enough physically and emotionally to be more herself again. He watched as the flow of conversation between the duo made Parker drop her gaze and lean into Paul with a blushing laugh, and the psychiatrist smiled to himself again, more widely this time. Paul, with his razor-sharp wit and jolly sense of humor, not to mention his charming and thoroughly modern teenaged daughter, would be good for her.
Sydney folded his hands in his lap, and then toyed with the plain and solid silver ring that now graced his right pinky, not yet used to the weight it added to the finger. Yes, they both HAD moved on in their lives.
The music ended, and Paul made his way back to the table where Sydney waited while Parker stopped and talked briefly to the pianist first before following. The strains of the next song began, and Parker reached out a hand to her Papa. "C'mon," she urged with a soft light in her eyes. "You're next on my dance card."
"Yes, show us how it's done, old man," Paul teased gently as he stood aside so Sydney could escape from his corner and take his daughter's hand. "I'll be taking notes from here." The professor then sat down in the same corner and crossed his long legs comfortably beneath the table as he settled back into the chair to watch father and daughter take to the dance floor.
Sydney smiled as he recognized the tune. "Moon River?" he asked her gently as she moved into his arms and began to move with him to the music.
"Apropos, don't you think," she replied, curling into her Papa's arms happily and closing her eyes as she leaned her head into his shoulder. "That's the song you were playing in the Sim Lab the day you taught me how to waltz, remember?"
"Mmm-hmmm. I remember."
She felt his lips brush her forehead, and smiled. "I've waited a long time to be able to finish this dance properly."
"As have I, ma petite." Then it had been sweepers who, at Mr. Parker's orders, had interrupted the impromptu dancing lesson to collect her from the Sim Lab where she'd conveniently had very professional babysitting. Now there were no sweepers, no more Mr. Parker or Centre intrigue to interfere. She had come a long way from the half-dead and heartsick shell of a woman he'd found on that dreary day in the Blue Cove Cemetery.
Now her name was Parker Green - and she was HIS daughter. She was wearing his mother's topaz necklace, calling him “Papa” and resting contentedly in his arms as if she'd always known she had a place there. The shadows of that nightmarish Delaware existence were slowly but steadily fading, leaving behind them a woman slowly unfolding into the beautiful creature she had always been meant to be. This truly was a celebration of her new life - and how better to celebrate that new life than to finally finish something left undone in the old one.
Sydney kissed the side of her head again very softly and moved with her gently to the music, finishing at long last a dance that had started decades ago.
Chapter 6: Reawakenings
Under normal conditions, Sydney had no use for and generally got peeved at being bombarded by “elevator music” when he was shopping. He understood the psychological principle being put to work and didn't appreciate the manipulative concept whatsoever. But then, department stores were in the business of making money - and the music, however subliminal it might be, did seem to give an up-boost to the amount of profit an establishment could hope to net at the end of the day.
But today was different. Today he was putting up with the music because he was generally enjoying his day and the company he was keeping. Parker... not “MISS Parker” anymore... was looking for something light and flowing to wear to the potluck and dance she was attending that evening with Paul Ruiz - and she had convinced him to come along and offer a man's perspective on her selections. Not that he minded much or needed much convincing to come along - his “daughter” was blossoming, and he didn't want to miss one moment of the process.
"What do you think?"
He looked up toward the entrance to the dressing rooms, and then blinked. Parker's choice was a sleeveless and ankle-length number in light floral polyester that hugged her slender shape demurely and then folded provocatively about her legs. Combined with the new haircut that accentuated and invited her natural curls to brush at her shoulders and frame her face, he could hardly recognize her for the razor-sharp and hard-as-nails executive she used to be.
He rose to his feet and smiled one of his truly rare, wide and full smiles that lit every last corner and crevasse of his face. "You look stunning," he finally managed with a shake of his head. "Poor Paul's not going to know what hit him."
Parker gleamed. She'd seen the lights come on in his eyes as she'd walked out, and the expression on his face had been priceless. "The other one is a powder blue - which do you think, Papa..."
"No, no, ma petite. THIS is the one you want - trust me!" His gaze turned into a frank stare of masculine appreciation. The cream color of the dress made the light tan that she'd been working on during warm afternoons on the balcony give her a glow of health that she'd not had for years. To finish the effect, the blue of the small cornflowers in the print made the grey of her eyes look like a hazy morning in August. "Go run and put on the other one so I can see you in it, but do wear THIS one tonight."
She shot him a bright smile and bounced back toward the dressing room and the other dress. What a treat it was to be shopping with her Papa - to have a father's undivided attention and perspective at her command. All her life she'd wanted to be able to have her father's help in guiding her choices - in clothing, in friends, in life in general - only to remain disappointed and ignored, if not outright rejected or abused. It had taken a brush with death and then hitting absolute bottom physically and emotionally to discover that the man she'd been wanting all those years to spend quality time with had NOT been her father but rather the old friend standing patiently at her side all along. He had come for her and literally rescued her from death's door to give her a new life. Now, as far as she was concerned, Sydney - whom she had once cynically called “Freud,” “Dr. Frankenstein,” “Dr. Mengele,” or any number of other scathing epithets over the years - was and would always be “Papa.”
She hung the cream-colored dress back on its hanger and drew the blue one over her head, then looked at herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw as she twisted and turned and viewed herself from various angles, and so she trotted out to show off again with a sparkle in her eye.
"What about this one?" she asked, then spun for him.
Sydney chuckled at her high spirits. "Save that one for the next chess night, sweetheart. You'll have him so distracted, I won't have to work hard to beat him."
"Shame on you," she chided with a grin. "That means I'll have to break down and kibbitz into his ear after all."
"As if you intended doing anything else anyway," he shook his head at her. "Are there any others that you were going to try on?"
"Nope. That's it." She twirled and looked at herself in the tri-mirror. "So you think I should get them both?"
"Absolutely," he answered easily. "And I'll be over there while you change - I saw something I wanted to check out." He gestured noncommittally into the store and then ambled off.
Parker's brows arched as she noted her Papa wandering off through the women's clothing racks, wondering just what it was that he'd seen. She shrugged and headed back toward the dressing room. Shopping for clothing had always been a comfort activity for her - and now, with Papa in tow, it was a sheer joy. She'd found a light denim jacket and two comfortably light shell blouses for an intermediate level of dress - not formal, not severe, but sharp and classy. Something that brought home the fact that she was shopping for a new life that DIDN'T include constantly being a fashion plate.
Her selections had been made with an eye for the kind of dress a working woman wore in this much-different climate. When the time came, she knew she'd feel comfortable wearing them to a job interview. She knew she wasn't physically up to the demands of looking for work quite yet - and, to be honest, she was finally enjoying her Papa's pampering and spoiling - but the time would come soon enough that she'd want to be doing something with her life. She was starting to look forward to her new life, her fresh start; and staying at home for the rest of her life was not a part of that. She slipped quickly back into the light trousers and top that she'd put on that morning grabbed her purse and then draped her purchases over her arm to carry to the checkout counter.
Another hurdle had also been cleared that morning before the shopping trip - the checkbook that now resided in her purse was in the name of “Parker Green” with Papa's address. Eventually she would have a driver's license number printed there too - but not yet. She had however reserved a healthy amount of cash to make purchases like this with until her personalized checks came by mail.
Still nervous about the possibility of having left a paper trail behind for the Centre to follow, she had called and withdrawn the money from her previous account in cash. Because her account had been a sizeable one, she'd called the bank the afternoon before to warn them what she'd be doing so they would have the cash on hand to give her. She'd then turned around and taken that cash into another branch of Sydney's bank and opened several new smaller accounts entirely - two savings accounts as well as a checking account. She still didn't feel entirely safe, but there was a measure of satisfaction knowing that the paper trail on "Miss Parker" ended with the withdrawal. She had also left Sydney behind in the car waiting for her so as to leave no video clues as to how or why she had chosen that bank in the first place.
Sydney was waiting for her at the checkout counter with a bag of his own in his hand. "What's that?" she asked as she deposited the dresses and other tops to be rung up.
"You'll see," he answered cryptically with a smile. "Later." He chuckled as a look of purely mischievous curiosity filled her face and she began to lean. He pulled it behind his back. "And no peeking."
"Papa!"
The clerk smiled to watch the interplay between this father and daughter. These two obviously were very close - few men other than doting fathers or husbands would have shown the patience this distinguished and very cosmopolitan older gentleman had while waiting to see this pretty younger lady try on clothing. The clerk quickly and expertly ran the tags over the barcode reader then announced the final cost while folding the garments to put them in the bags.
Parker paid the woman in cash, amazed at herself for not having blown a fortune like she used to do but still having found quality clothing that made her look good nonetheless. She put her wallet away and took the bag from the clerk, then threaded her hand onto Sydney's arm. "So," she asked with a twinkle in her eye, "where are you taking ME for lunch today?"
"Depends," Sydney replied as the two of them found their way out onto the mezzanine of the vast mall. "How hungry are you?"
"I'd be happy with just a salad or some soup," she answered. "I have a potluck to go to tonight, remember?"
"How could I forget? You've been talking of little else all day..."
She rolled her eye, which made him chuckle again - as did her exasperated, "Papa!"
"No, really." Sydney patted the hand at his arm indulgently. "It does me good to see you looking forward to something with this much anticipation. You haven't been this up for a very long time."
"I don't remember the last time I felt this good inside," Parker admitted to him, tightening her hold on his arm. "I'm starting to wonder if this is all a dream, and I'm going to wake up in my own bed in the summerhouse looking forward to another dismal day waiting for Raines to eat me alive."
"That was another lifetime, Parker. You're safe here - and one of these days, you'll start to believe it too."
"God, I hope so." She pulled herself just a bit closer to her Papa and held on just a bit tighter yet. Sydney patted her hand again, wishing that the time would come quickly when just the thought of her former life didn't erode her self-assurance.
They sauntered down the mall until they found the massive food court, where several fast food enterprises of all different kinds catered to the mall clientele. "How about Japanese today," Parker suggested suddenly. "I haven't had good sushi since Tokyo - although today I think I'm more in the mood for a California roll..."
"I'm not much of a fan of sushi," Sydney admitted. "I never did develop a taste for it. So how about you order your California rolls, and then I'll go over there and see what kind of pasta they have today while you find us a table."
"My God!" Parker's hand at his arm suddenly tightened painfully. "Sydney, look!" With a frown at her suddenly reverting to calling him by name, Sydney turned to see what it was that had so shocked her to find three dark suited men walking quickly in their direction with extremely determined looks on their faces.
"It's alright," he soothed, putting his arm around her and pulling her into him so that she could hide her face on his shoulder as the men drew steadily nearer. He could feel her trembling as she watched as one of the men reached inside his jacket for something. "It's not what you think..."
"I can't go back. I can't let them take me back," she whimpered miserably, and suddenly Sydney had to hold onto her tightly to keep her from bolting from his side.
"Hush, sweetheart," he shushed at her firmly. "Don't panic. I'm right here..."
The dark suited man had drawn a cell phone from his jacket and was now speaking to someone on the other end of the line. The trio walked straight up to and then past the older gentleman with the woman in his arms, not once looking either of the mall shopping pair in the face as they passed on either side of them.
"See? They weren't sweepers, Parker - just businessmen," Sydney soothed, running his hand back and forth across her shoulder to help her calm down. "Easy. I told you that you were safe here. You're OK."
He could feel the moment she let go of her tension - she sagged against him limply. "I feel like such a ninny..."
"Withdrawals, Parker, remember?" he reminded her gently, then pushed at her to get her to stand on her own again. "Just because we know where some of them come from doesn't mean you're finished with them yet." Indeed, she'd had yet another of her nightmares the night before - awakening him yet again with her screams and needing to be held and comforted for a while before she could go back to sleep - as had been the pattern for days now. She had calmed faster this time for having had the memory that was causing her such anguish returned to her, although he knew that full recovery from such a horrific experience would take a while yet.
"I can't live like this..."
He took her shoulders firmly in his hands, and his voice was strong and determined. "Yes, you can." His chestnut gaze was warm and encouraging - and almost fiercely protective. "Don't let little setbacks like this one throw you so badly. You're stronger than that. Have a little patience - and a little faith in yourself."
The sparkle had died in her grey eyes. "Can we just go home, please?" she asked softly.
"Uh-unh." Sydney shook his head. "You were going to order some California rolls for yourself, and I was going to have pasta." She opened her mouth to protest, only to have him put a finger over her lips and prevent a single word from escaping. "No. Listen to your Papa now. You're OK - you gave yourself a scare, but you've survived it - and now we're going to have lunch. You don't need to retreat back into a hole and hide all the time anymore. You need to remember how to catch your balance again and keep going."
"I'm really tired..."
"I know, sweetheart - I am too. This has been a big day so far - and for you especially. That's why we need to sit down and take a break - relax and enjoy a nice lunch - not walk half a mile back to the car right away." Sydney took her hand and threaded it into his elbow again. "C'mon - let's order your California rolls."
~~~~~~~~
Papa had been right, Parker thought to herself as she stood patiently breaking the shells from the hard-boiled eggs that she was going to make into Deviled Eggs for the potluck, she had needed to remember how to recover her balance. And as if to prove his statement, much of her energy and good mood had returned in the time it had taken for them to order and then eat their lunch at the mall. She smiled at herself. He had always known her better than she'd known herself - and how she depended on that now!
Rather than allowing her to dwell on her mistaking businessmen for sweepers, Papa had directed their lunchtime discussion to center around the other steps that she still needed to take in order to establish herself in her new life. Consequently, she had made tentative plans for such things as getting a driver's license and perhaps a car of her own - to give herself a sense of autonomy and independence again. The discussion then had moved on to what kind of job she might want to start looking for eventually - and how she would know when she was ready to begin looking.
She peeked around the corner of the kitchen into the living room, where Papa was sitting on the couch with his reading glasses perched on his nose, devouring the daily newspaper as he did everyday at this time. He'd had no objection to any of her plans or the timeframes for them, and he'd been very helpful in helping her think through just what kind of work she was qualified to do. It surprised neither of them to discover that she wanted nothing further to do with the corporate scene - both of them agreeing that the last thing she needed was to willingly step into another Centre-like situation.
One option that occurred to both of them almost immediately was to investigate the security field - make beneficial use of the nearly fifteen years she'd spent in that kind of endeavor. Almost as an afterthought, however, she had reminded him that she had a law degree buried under those nearly fifteen years' worth of disuse. With a sly grin he had suggested that she talk to Paul about whom she should talk to at the university to bring her degree up to date and current to pass the Arizona bar exam.
Paul. She smiled as she began cutting the eggs in half and popping the yolks into a separate bowl, her mind spinning with curiosity and anticipation for the evening. The potluck and dance tonight were a new experience - another small step out of her old life and into the new. Potlucks had always been beneath the Parkers - at least, that was how “Daddy” had trained her. They were for the “little people” who did the work. Never mind how she had noticed that those people always seemed to enjoy those meals where everybody brought something different, a Parker never broke bread with the help just to socialize. But she wasn't a Parker anymore - she was a Green - and Papa was actively encouraging this time with Paul.
A glance at the clock told her she still had an hour before Paul would be by to escort her. Then she looked up and smiled as Papa came around the corner and leaned against the counter to watch her work. "How's it going?" he asked gently.
"Fine," she replied, taking a fork and breaking up the cooked yolks into small crumbs. "I haven't made these since..." She thought for a moment. "I think the last time I made these, it was for Thomas."
Sydney watched her face closely, and the mention of her murdered old flame's name didn't bring the slightest hint of remorse or hurt. The fact gave him hope - at least one bad scar was finally fading, maybe the others would too, in time... "Good memories?"
The smile on her face was a fond one. "Yeah - considering that Tommy was the one who was the better cook. About the only thing I COULD make when we first got together were Deviled Eggs."
"Could you leave me a couple, so I don't have to feel completely left out?" The exaggerated plaintive tone made her chuckle.
"You could just come to the potluck and have all you wanted," she teased him back, watching the look of mock horror spread.
He shook his head. "And have to fend off Lydia Simmons all evening? I don't think so..." He looked at her indulgently. "Besides, this is your evening to knock Paul for a loop - I don't want to get in the way of that."
"Papa, are you trying to play matchmaker?" Her grey eyes were wide and guileless.
"No," he answered slowly as he watched her spoon the condiments into the yolks casually, obviously measuring by eye, "I just know when a father should be sticking his nose into his daughter's business, and when he should stay out of things."
"I've had too many years of having a father who did nothing BUT stay out of things," she said with a touch of wistfulness. "You may find this hard to believe, but I like the idea of having you watch over my shoulder. Besides," she turned to him with a soft smile, "I was kinda hoping I could talk you into dancing with me later. Please?" Now it was her turn to turn on the plaintive tone.
"You're going to be wanting to dance with Paul, ma petite," he reminded her with a gentle hand to cup her face for a brief moment.
Her eyes dropped to watch what she was doing with mixing the yolks. "Yes," she admitted frankly, "but I'd like a chance to dance with you too. Kind of a celebration of sorts."
"Oh?" His eyebrows rose. "And what are we celebrating?"
"My new life." Grey met chestnut. "Please."
When she put it that way, Sydney could deny her nothing. "For you, ma cheri, only for you." He kissed her cheek. "And only if you'll protect me from Lydia."
Parker laughed out loud at that, and kissed him back. "I think we can keep you fairly well protected from the flowing dowager seeking to entrap you into a marital Hell, Papa."
~~~~~~~~
Sydney pulled his sleeveless sweater-vest over his shirt and suspenders and then walked toward his bathroom to brush his longish silver hair back into impeccable order. He hadn't attended one of these complex functions for months - ever since his casual friendship with the woman Parker called ”the flowing dowager” had somehow put it into her mind that he was good husband material. And frankly, he had missed the socialization with the complex community - after all, it had been at a potluck that he'd met Paul and discovered their mutual passion for chess. Maybe the time had come for him to let Lydia know of his acute lack of interest in her conjugal plans so that he could return to enjoying the active schedule of events the homeowner's association had set up.
Satisfied now that he was appropriately groomed, he reached for the bag from the department store he'd stored in an out-of-the-way corner of his closet and quickly cut the price tag from his purchase with some cuticle scissors. This would compliment Parker's new dress admirably, he thought to himself and smiled. What a treat it was to be able to buy her a gift and not have to worry about its reception.
He glanced at his watch - he had ten minutes before Paul was scheduled to arrive. He carefully put his purchase back into the bag, landed the bag on the end of the bed and then pulled open a dresser drawer to remove a crushed velour jewelry box. He ran his hand over it, remembering how it used to sit on his mother's dresser. It had been returned to him as part of settling Jacob's estate, along with the other items rescued from war-torn Lyons that Jacob had taken for his own. He opened the box and removed one of the few items it still held, then closed it and replaced it in the drawer. The piece of jewelry in one hand, the bag in the other, he opened his bedroom door and walked across the hall to Parker's and knocked.
"Are you decent?"
"Come in, I'm almost ready," her voice called through the door. He pushed the door open to find Parker seated at the vanity brushing her curls. She looked at him through the mirror and smiled as she put down the hairbrush. "You look very dapper tonight, Papa."
"And you look magnificent," he replied with a gaze of pure pride. "And I have something - actually a COUPLE of somethings - for you."
"You mean what was in that bag you wouldn't let me peek into?" she grinned mischievously.
"Yes," he admitted slowly, "but something else first. Do me a favor and close your eyes."
"Papa..."
"Trust me, Parker. Close your eyes."
Without a single thought, Parker closed her eyes with a huff of frustrated curiosity. Sydney moved quietly behind her and dropped the pendant over her head and had the clasp fastened around her neck even as her hand came up to touch the stone tentatively. "Sydney..." she gasped as she opened her eyes and saw the deep sparkle of the blue topaz reflecting the cornflower blue of her dress from amid the circle of tiny diamonds.
"Uh-unh," he shook his head. "Papa. In this new life we're celebrating tonight, you are my daughter. That means that this was your grandmother's - my mother's. Jacob and I weren't able to save many of her nice things after the war, but this..." He smiled softly in reminiscence. "The jewelry box was buried in the debris of our house in Lyons. I think she'd approve of your having it - and it deserves to be worn again by one of the family."
"Papa," she started, almost too choked to speak. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"Thank YOU, Parker," Sydney whispered, dropping a kiss into the fountain of curls on the top of her head, "for giving me a chance to be a father to you. You have no idea how much it means to me to be able to claim you as my own after all this time."
"I have something for you too," Parker managed finally, after swallowing hard against the lump in her throat at the stunningly beautiful pendant and the expression of caring. She turned on her vanity stool and reached for his right hand. "I've been thinking about this all day. This is a part of the life I'm leaving behind me tonight - I'm hoping you'll wear it and remember that we BOTH have a new life now. We're both moving on, and it's only right that it move on as well." She looked down and pulled the square silver ring from her left forefinger that she had worn her entire adult life and slipped it on his right pinky when it turned out too small for his ring finger.
"Parker..." He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You don't have to give me anything..."
She stroked the hand that now wore her ring, and then sandwiched it between her two hands. "You've given me so much. Let me give this to you, Sydney. As Miss Parker, I'll will never ask another favor of you again; because Miss Parker will be disappearing in just a minute or two, and she'll not be coming back again - ever. So, please..."
He pulled his hand from hers and looked at it, then reached up and settled it just a bit more firmly on his finger. "I'll be glad to, Miss Parker. Thank you." His voice cracked a bit on the last phrase, and he too was having to swallow hard against a lump of emotion. Then, when he'd conquered his feelings again, he reached down both hands and drew her to her feet. "And, last but not least..." He reached into the bag that he'd put at his feet and drew out the lightly knit and fringed white shawl shot through with occasional gold threads and draped it about her shoulders. "Le piece de resistance." He stepped back to survey the effect. "You are gorgeous, ma petite. Magnifique."
Parker turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror. The shawl lay about her shoulders as if made for the dress, and the color in her cheeks accented the sparkle of her eyes. "It's beautiful, Papa. Thank you."
There was a knock on the door, and Sydney watched the excitement heighten the color in his daughter's cheeks just that much more. "You get the door, ma petite. I'll go for the eggs."
He paused on the way to the kitchen so as to catch sight of Paul's face when the university professor got his first good look at Parker. The slight drop of the jaw and widening of the eyes were worth it, and the psychiatrist chuckled his way into the kitchen to pull the foil-covered platter from the fridge. "Hello, pretty lady!" he heard the rich baritone chime in pleased surprise. "I swear, you get prettier every time I see you!"
Parker blushed. "Thank you. Uh... Papa decided to come along after all," she continued happily, contented with the reception her outfit had received and his response. Not that she was at all displeased with what had appeared at the front door - Paul was a study in different values of grey, from his trousers to his shirt and tie to the silken vest.
"Did he now?" Paul's steel-grey eyebrows were halfway to his hairline as he saw Sydney emerge from the kitchen bearing the Green family's offering to the potluck. "You're a brave man, Sydney Green, to willingly face the likes of the Dragon Lady Simmons..."
"Oh shut up," Sydney grumbled good-naturedly. "Parker promised me that you two would help defend me from Lydia."
"All you have to do is just tell her a nice, loud, firm “No,” you know..." Paul chuckled at his friend. "You really have to quit worrying about hurting that woman's feelings, Sydney - she doesn't have any to begin with."
"I'm a psychiatrist," Sydney reminded his friend archly, "feelings are what I deal with."
Parker leaned toward him. "Papa, you have a RIGHT to say no to her..." At his thoroughly unconvinced look, she shrugged. "Paul and I will do what we can, though, won't we?" She looked up into Paul's face.
"For you, pretty lady, anything." Paul found himself beginning to get lost in those storm-grey eyes. It was the kind of feeling he hadn't had for a very long time. He looked away to find Sydney watching him with a look of indulgent patience. "She's very persuasive, isn't she?"
The psychiatrist chuckled. "She's had me wrapped around her little finger since she was quite young," he replied far more honestly than Paul could possibly appreciate, then gestured with the foil-wrapped pan. "Shall we?"
"Where's your contribution?" Parker asked as Paul reclaimed her hand at the bottom of the stairs and replaced it at his elbow.
"I've already stopped by the clubhouse and dropped it off," he explained. "After all, I live on the other side of the complex and had to walk by it to get to you."
Parker found herself flabbergasted by the number of people moving in and around the clubhouse, and Paul felt her slight hesitation. "The whole complex comes out for these once a month potlucks and dances," he told her as he slowed to match her pace. "Even the families with kids show up for these."
It was the truth. The homeowner's association had wisely set up tables and chairs on the patio area, and the inside was filled with enough long tables and chairs to approximate a banquet hall. The noise level was higher with the boisterous voices of happy children coming from all parts of the building. "You two save me a place in line," Sydney announced, "while I go deliver these."
Paul straightened to his full height and looked around the hall. "You know, I don't see Lydia at all this evening."
"Is she really as bad as he makes her out to be?" Parker asked as quietly as she could and still make herself heard.
"Not really," Paul laughed. "Most of us who've been here for a while know her to be a slightly daft lady who's wealthy enough to behave outrageously and actually get away with it. Wait until another mature and unattached man moves in - she'll drop your Dad like a hot potato and start hovering over the new guy like a bee over jelly."
Her grey eyes stared up into his twinkling hazel in surprise. "Have you told Papa this?"
"I tried to warn him the first time I met him - before Lydia got to him," her companion admitted, "but I haven't had the heart to try since then. I can't help it if he didn't believe me..."
"You scoundrel!" The grey eyes narrowed slightly. "You're enjoying watching him squirm!"
"There IS that..." Paul smiled a thoroughly wicked smile and then leaned in close. "But please, don't tell him. A new guy, a retired doctor, HAS just moved in - and this guy bought a whole lot closer to her place than your Dad's is. I figure he'll get the message in just a little while when Lydia stops hanging over him and turns her attention to the new guy."
Her lips broke into a tiny smirk. "Alright - I won't say anything for as long as you promise to keep “defending” him with me until he gets it."
Paul laughed a full and hearty laugh then. Sydney's daughter could be as full of mischief as he was! "For you, pretty lady, anything!"
"What did I miss?" Sydney asked as he joined the pair at the table holding the place settings for the meal.
"Nothing," the pair said in unison, then looked at each other and chuckled.
"That's either encouraging, or seriously disturbing," the older man pronounced carefully, his gaze moving smoothly back and forth between the two and finally alighting on Paul. "And knowing you, I have a feeling it's the latter." He looked around at the people at the tables. "Is she here?"
"I haven't seen her," Paul told him truthfully as he handed his friend a paper plate. "Lucky you to have chosen the one potluck that Lydia decides not to make her dramatic appearance..."
"Stop it." Parker swatted at her companion's arm playfully, then reached for the plastic utensils. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Papa. Let's just enjoy the evening."
~~~~~~~~
The music from the jazz pianist and the bass player flowed over the remaining adults in the clubhouse like a cool breeze, and the floor space that had been cleared in front of the musicians contained several couples moving together. The hour was getting late, and most of the children had already been taken off to homework and bed by watchful parents, leaving only those who intended to enjoy the music and dancing occupying the clubhouse. Most of the long tables and chairs had been put away - a communal effort that had cleaned the hall of all signs of hosting a rather large dinner in less than half an hour.
Sydney looked about the room, fully aware that he wasn't the only one in the hall who was watching the pair on the dance floor that was Paul and Parker - they were an incredibly handsome and striking pair after all. Over the course of the evening, several of the eligible ladies, with or without children, had worn expressions of serious disappointment when Paul very obviously and consistently showered his attention on Parker alone. Sydney smiled - Paul was considered quite a catch, and had been gallantly resisting the charms of this resident or that for long since before he had made the professor's acquaintance.
Right now the dancers were swaying gently to the music, with Paul's arms looped loosely around Parker's waist and her arms looped up and over his shoulders, talking softly and occasionally chuckling together over something private. The evening, as far as Sydney was concerned, had been an unqualified success. The banter among the three of them during the meal had flown fast and furious, with Parker this time a full and capable participant in the verbal high jinx - both giving as well as receiving her fair share of ribbing. The relaxed smile that was coming so easily to her face that evening was like a gift - something he'd wanted for her for so long, and finally had seen come to pass.
And now the two dancers seemed to have eyes for no one else in the room as they swayed together to the music, apparently oblivious of the other couples that moved rhythmically with them. He had had a hunch that those two would hit it off, once Parker had recovered enough physically and emotionally to be more herself again. He watched as the flow of conversation between the duo made Parker drop her gaze and lean into Paul with a blushing laugh, and the psychiatrist smiled to himself again, more widely this time. Paul, with his razor-sharp wit and jolly sense of humor, not to mention his charming and thoroughly modern teenaged daughter, would be good for her.
Sydney folded his hands in his lap, and then toyed with the plain and solid silver ring that now graced his right pinky, not yet used to the weight it added to the finger. Yes, they both HAD moved on in their lives.
The music ended, and Paul made his way back to the table where Sydney waited while Parker stopped and talked briefly to the pianist first before following. The strains of the next song began, and Parker reached out a hand to her Papa. "C'mon," she urged with a soft light in her eyes. "You're next on my dance card."
"Yes, show us how it's done, old man," Paul teased gently as he stood aside so Sydney could escape from his corner and take his daughter's hand. "I'll be taking notes from here." The professor then sat down in the same corner and crossed his long legs comfortably beneath the table as he settled back into the chair to watch father and daughter take to the dance floor.
Sydney smiled as he recognized the tune. "Moon River?" he asked her gently as she moved into his arms and began to move with him to the music.
"Apropos, don't you think," she replied, curling into her Papa's arms happily and closing her eyes as she leaned her head into his shoulder. "That's the song you were playing in the Sim Lab the day you taught me how to waltz, remember?"
"Mmm-hmmm. I remember."
She felt his lips brush her forehead, and smiled. "I've waited a long time to be able to finish this dance properly."
"As have I, ma petite." Then it had been sweepers who, at Mr. Parker's orders, had interrupted the impromptu dancing lesson to collect her from the Sim Lab where she'd conveniently had very professional babysitting. Now there were no sweepers, no more Mr. Parker or Centre intrigue to interfere. She had come a long way from the half-dead and heartsick shell of a woman he'd found on that dreary day in the Blue Cove Cemetery.
Now her name was Parker Green - and she was HIS daughter. She was wearing his mother's topaz necklace, calling him “Papa” and resting contentedly in his arms as if she'd always known she had a place there. The shadows of that nightmarish Delaware existence were slowly but steadily fading, leaving behind them a woman slowly unfolding into the beautiful creature she had always been meant to be. This truly was a celebration of her new life - and how better to celebrate that new life than to finally finish something left undone in the old one.
Sydney kissed the side of her head again very softly and moved with her gently to the music, finishing at long last a dance that had started decades ago.
