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the lurker
She closed the door gently behind her. It had not come as a surprise, the phone call; it was instead, becoming a new tradition. She kicked off her shoes, poured herself a drink and sat down to stare at the Christmas tree. She let her head fall back against the cushions of the couch, exhausted.
The bright moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a blue glow off her dark hair. She looked at the cool crystal tumbler in her hand, its amber liquid deepened in colour as she held it near the soft candlelight. A twisted smile of irony curled her lips as she brought the glass to her mouth, sipping the alcohol. The white lights from the tree nearby twinkled in the darkened room, and an old ornament caught Parker’s eye. Slowly she got up and walked to the tree, and reaching out for the ornament, she delicately fingered the glass bulb.
It was as if she could still connect with the moment her mother first put the ornament on a tree. Parker could still see her mother’s smile, smell her perfume, and hear her voice humming Christmas songs as the two of them trimmed that tree. She felt the sting of tears, but allowed none to fall.
The moment was disrupted by the ringing of her phone, and a shred of hope trickled into her heart. Wiping an errant tear away, Parker reached for the phone.
"Daddy?"
There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line, after a moment, the caller recovered.
"I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parker--"
"--Jarod.....what the hell do you want?"
"All dressed up, with a dinner prepared and no one around to share it. I suppose that would put me in a foul mood too."
Another long silence filled the phone line.
Parker closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, "Shouldn’t you be off healing the sick, saving the disenfranchised or playing Santa to a bunch of underprivileged orphans?"
"When was the last time your father actually kept a Christmas Eve date with you?"
The venom in Parker’s voice struck out, "Why don’t you do me a favour Jarod, and drop dead?"
The pretender was silent for a moment, then, "I think you should look outside your door, Miss Parker; your present should be arriving shortly. Merry Christmas."
The line went dead before Parker could respond. Annoyed, she slammed the phone down into its cradle, and stalked to her front entrance. With a fierceness most would reserve for violence, she ripped open the door, to find a familiar figure making his way up the walkway.
"Syd?"
"Merry Christmas, Miss Parker," the psychiatrist responded with a large smile.
He walked up the steps and handed Parker a bouquet of fresh flowers, greeting her with a peck on the cheek. Parker looked quizzically at him, and his grin dissipated slightly.
"You haven’t forgotten, have you?"
"Forgotten?"
"You did send me an invitation for this evening, did you not?"
Jarod. The annoying boy wonder had assumed that her father would cancel on her at the last minute, and he had sent Sydney in her father’s stead. She smiled in spite of it all.
"Of course I didn’t forget, Syd."
"You seem surprised to see me."
"I....guess I thought you might have other things to do."
His smile turned slightly sad, "Since my brother passed--" He looked away then back at Parker, "Are you going to invite me in?"
She held the door opened for him, "You look very handsome."
He followed Parker into the house and took in a deep whiff, "Mmm, prime rib....good choice."
"My mother used to make it every Christmas Eve..."
He followed Parker into the kitchen and watched as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the fridge, popped the cork and poured the sparkling wine into two flutes. There was a sadness about her that did not escape Sydney’s scrutiny. He accepted the glass of bubbly, smiling at her.
She raised her flute in toast, "To Christmases past."
Sydney gently touched his glass to hers and took a sip of the champagne. He watched as she checked the meal, and then followed her back out into the living room. She sat on the couch, and he in the chair nearby. For a long moment, an awkward silence filled the room as the two occupants stared at the twinkling lights on the tree.
Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and calm, "You’re very far away, Miss Parker...."
"What?"
"Your thoughts....you’re a million miles away right now." Parker said nothing, but the look on her face confirmed what he already knew, "You’d rather be alone tonight, wouldn’t you?" When she said nothing, Sydney set his champagne on the coffee table and stood, buttoning his jacket, "I’ll leave you to it then, Parker."
A hand reached up, restraining his arm, "No ,Syd, please don’t go. I’m sorry.....I suppose I’m not the best of company tonight." Parker stood, and handed his glass to him once again, "Please stay."
He took the glass and looked into her eyes, "You weren’t expecting me tonight, were you?" Parker wouldn’t look at him, and he gently guided her face toward his, "Your father was supposed to be here, but he called at canceled at the last minute." He smiled at her, "And you weren’t the one who sent me the invitation."
"Sometimes Wonderboy knows better than both of us."
"Parker, if you’d rather be alone--"
"--No. I’m glad you’re here, Syd. Really."
She felt her eyes filling with moisture and turned quickly away. Sydney set his glass down once more and moved to stand directly behind her.
"When was the last time you had Christmas with your father?"
"It doesn’t matter."
He gently turned her around to face him, "Yes, it does matter. It matters to me."
Parker fought down her emotions, "He.....he’s been busy the past few years, that’s all." She broke away from his grasp, "I need to check the meat."
Sydney didn’t let go of her, "It’s okay to be angry at him, Parker. It’s okay to feel abandoned--"
She whirled in anger at him, "--How dare you tell me how to feel. You don’t know the first damned thing about it."
"I know how unhappy it makes you." Her eyes filled again, and she stared at him as he continued, "I see the pain on a daily basis, Miss Parker; I see it, and it saddens me."
Her voice grew quiet, "It’s no more your business than it is Jarod’s."
Embarrassed, Sydney looked away, "Forgive me, I’ve obviously overstepped my position." He nodded toward Miss Parker and walked toward the door, "Merry Christmas, Miss Parker."
He was almost gone before she spoke up, "Syd....damnit. Wait. Please...."
The doctor stopped but did not turn to face her. After a few moments, she spoke again.
"I didn’t mean that...." She sighed heavily and sat down on the couch, "You know I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go."
Slowly he turned back into the house, closing the door behind him, "I’ve known you all your life, and still I don’t know how to comfort you."
Her voice was almost a whisper, her own vulnerability almost paralyzing her, "I don’t know what I would do if you stopped trying."
She finally looked up at him, to find him standing there, a silent tear rolling down his cheek.
"Syd?"
"That’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me."
Parker stood up and quickly walked over to him, wiping the tear away with her hand, "Merry Christmas, Freud."
She kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked toward the kitchen, "Come on....there’s an entire prime rib waiting for some to eat it....."
He chuckled in spite of himself and followed her through the swinging door.
**********************
He blew out the last of the candles, and was about to turn off the Christmas lights when he glanced over at the sleeping figure on the couch. The moonlight poured in through the window above her, casting a blue sheen to her dark hair. Smiling to himself, he silently moved to the couch, removed the throw blanket from the back, and gently covered her with it. She reminded him so much of her mother.
Sydney bent over her and placed a light kiss on her head, "Sleep well, Miss Parker." He removed a small wrapped box from his pocket and set it under the Christmas tree, his voice a whisper, "Merry Christmas, my little one."
He closed the door gently behind him.
The
