Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story

- Text Size +

Author's Chapter Notes:

Hello again!

The answers are slowly being pieced together. I neither confirm nor deny the paternity of the child. Whether it is Jarod’s or the Major’s… oh, just keep reading! I dare say we likely aren’t even halfway there.

Besides, that’s not the only answer Parker & company need to find…


Part Six

The eight sat in lawn chairs on the back patio, torches shimmering into the dark. Miss Parker was wrapped in an afghan, having shed her business attire for jeans and a sweater. The bite in the air was not unpleasant, the smell of the burning torch oil reminded her of summer. She watched embers fly from the wick of one of the torches as Broots shattered the silence. “Mi… Miss Parker? I thought Jarod was meeting you in Portland?”

She chuckled, still following the flame with her eyes. “Time for him to follow one of his own bogus trails.”

Major Charles cleared his throat, “My son is very eager, sometimes a little too much so. I’m afraid this is one of those times when that could be dangerous.”

“Jarod has faulted me for years for chasing him, completely disregarding the fact that I have never taken him back,” she glanced to Sydney. “And then he talks about the prison that the Centre was to him, how he was forced to do things he did not want to do.” After a pause, her voice gained more strength and she continued, “But he doesn’t see that what he has done to me has been the same thing. Dangling clues about my mother, giving me just enough bread crumbs to find one little detail here and there. He gives me enough rope to hang myself even though he has the capability to fill in all the empty gaps.” With a shrug of her afghan clad shoulders, Parker continued. “We are all prisoners of the Centre in our own ways. It seems that I have finally realized I am also a prisoner of Jarod.” No one spoke, and her eyes closed. “Jarod wants to help, but this is one of those times when I’m afraid he would only make things worse. Anything he learns will have to be through one of us. The Centre has no information regarding the success of the experiment, and the action was taken on Raines’ authority alone. He doesn’t know anything we don’t already; at least, he doesn’t know anything important that we don’t know already. If he knew the experiment were successful, I’m afraid he would think the child his.”

“Are you sure it isn’t?” Sydney queried, hand clasped in his lap.

“No, not completely. But I’m reasonably certain that it is not. That is an action the Centre would be foolish enough to take. There would be no gain, except the possibility of recapturing Jarod. Why would they do that when could create a new Pretender, mold it the way they want, without anyone getting in the way?”

“You wouldn’t give them your baby though,” Debbie replied.

“No, Debbie, I would not allow them to take any child with my knowledge. Regardless of their parentage,” she added.

“I remember,” Jim spoke softly, “I remember when you came to rescue me. You were so angry with them, I could feel it, but you were so gentle with me. I knew you would come back, I knew that I would see you again. Then Dad and Jarod came, before you had a chance.” He smiled at her through the darkness, and the face of the BoyJarod drifted through her mind as she smiled back.

“You planned to rescue my son.” Major Charles stated, no question evident in his words.

“Yes,” Parker replied, voice as low as the boy’s had been. Across the circle, Sydney and Ethan watched with great interest as Major Charles reached for her hand and squeezed it within his own.

“Thank you.” His voice was grave as he released her hand from his own. “I did not know.”

“They would kill you,” Debbie spoke again, her voice filled with hurt and anger. “You wouldn’t let them just take your baby, so they would have to kill you. Like they did your mama.”

“Yes,” Miss Parker said again. “And if they could not find me, they would go after all of you. That is why you are here.”

“What do you intend to do, Parker?” Sydney’s voice drifted into the darkness.

“About the Centre? I don’t know yet, I’m still working on that. About Jarod? Keep him as in the dark as possible. It’s safer for him, and us, that way. Right now?” she shifted, standing with the afghan still wrapped around her upper body. “It’s been a long day, and I am going to turn in. Good night everyone.”

“I’ll walk you up,” Ethan smiled, walking from his seat across the circle to offer her his arm. “I’m kind of tired myself.”

As the siblings headed inside, Major Charles stood as well. “If you want to join me, I’ll show you each to your rooms. Jim will be sleeping in the den, so Debbie you’ll stay in his room. Broots, next door. And Sydney and Ben, you rooms are across the hall.” Holding the backdoor open as the others walked inside, he finished, “Miss Parker is at the end of the hall near your room, Debbie, and I’m at the opposite end. Ethan’s room is next to mine, though it’s more like a closet really.”

Jim defended, “He likes it. I offered to trade!”

“I know son, I know.” Major Charles nodded, hand falling to the back of the boys neck after ruffling his hair.

--

Miss Parker was curled on her right side, facing the door. The moonlight shifting through the thin curtains haloed her dark hair and pale skin. Debbie watched her, arms wrapped around herself. After a few moments, she stepped forward.

There was a hand on her face, Miss Parker acknowledged as she groggily opened her eyes. Gaze settling on Debbie, she whispered, “What’s wrong, Debbie?”

The girl bit her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m afraid, Miss Parker,” she said quietly, voice lowering to a whisper. “Can I sleep with you?”

Without a word, Parker lifted the blankets and eased backward onto the bed. Debbie climbed between the sheets and curled herself into the other woman. Miss Parker sighed, leaning her face against the young girl’s hair as Debbie pulled her arm over her side. Moments later, the brunette was once again fast asleep with the girl following closely behind.

“I don’t want you to die, Miss Parker,” she whispered into the pillow before closing her eyes.

--

I don’t want her to die! I don’t want anyone to die!” Young Miss Parker cried, huddled in the hallway with Jarod and Angelo. Neither knew how to offer the comfort she needed. Jarod reached for her, and Angelo’s eyes drifted shut as he felt the anguish drift toward him.

Faith was dying. There was nothing they could do to stop it.

--

Parker snapped awake, images of her blonde haired friend and adopted sister at the forefront of her mind. Mr. Parker had told her that Faith’s death had saved lives, that what they had learned from the girl improved childhood cancer treatment for those that were diagnosed after her.

I wonder what they had planned for you, she thought. Don’t worry, little one, you will not become their prisoner. A fleeting smile slipped over her face as her own mother’s voice entered her mind, “S…s…safe,” it whispered. I wonder if you will hear my voice as I hear my mother’s.

Shifting away from the girl who was still tucked into her bed, fast asleep, Parker reached for the robe lying on the bench at the end of the bed. Tucking it around herself, she stood, only to be greeted by an abrupt wave of dizziness and an uncomfortable tightening of her throat. She rushed down the hall on bare feet, closing the bathroom door with a thud and surging toward the toilet.

The sun was just beginning to rise, the eastern exposure affording half of the bedrooms a glimpse of early morning light. Sydney stretched awake, joints cracking as bones realigned themselves after his heavy sleep. Hoisting himself to the edge of the bed and slipping his feet into bedroom slippers, he listened to the strange sound that had woken him. It was a muffled cry, something like a sob, coming from the room next to his.

The bathroom, he realized, Miss Parker. Grabbing the pitcher of water he had filled before bed, Sydney headed for the room next to his. He lightly tapped on the door before pushing it open without waiting for a response.

The brunette’s body was folded around the toilet, her arms wrapped around the seat. Her dark hair was tossed haphazardly over her left shoulder, her left cheek pressed into her arm. Reaching up, she flushed the toilet only to heave again as the water started swirling. After a moment, she tried to speak, but the roughness of her throat would not give way to words.

“Your mother had violent morning sickness when she was pregnant with you,” Sydney offered, reaching for the glass on the counter. He filled it with water from his pitcher, then sat on the floor with the glass clasped between his hands. “I remember there were quite a few times when I found her hunched over a wastebasket in her office – and in mine.” The words were filled with humor, his eyes gazing at her fondly even as he envisioned her mother in much the same position more than three decades before.

Tugging the glass from his fingers, she cautiously sipped at the water. After a moment, she responded. “Figures,” the word was grumbled. “My mother was also pregnant with twins. By choice.”

“Yes,” Sydney acknowledged, reading her expression as she leaned her head once more against her arm. “But would you change it, if you could?” The question was not something he expected to ask, certainly not something he expected her to answer.

Gaze turned inward, Parker did not reply. Silence fell over the room and she gulped it down like a cure. “I don’t know. There are… things… about this, that I would have be different.” Sipping the water, she wryly laughed, “Certainly the Centre’s involvement would be removed. But I… I’m not my mother, Syd. And I may be really bad at this. But I can’t not. I don’t…” pausing, she blew a breath of air at the straggling strands of hair that had fallen in her line of vision. “I haven’t loved anyone since Tommy, not really. But I…”

“You love your child. It is natural, Parker. Embrace it, enjoy it.” With a smile, he reached forward and took the glass from her hand, lifting himself to his feet. “I think you will find a lot more love in your life than you realize.” This time, he offered her a hand.

Reaching upward, she allowed him to slowly help her stand. Placing her other hand against the counter to test for dizziness, Parker lifted her eyes to her old friend. Quietly, she thanked him, words heavy and honest.

“How do you feel about some dry toast? That always seemed to do the trick for Catherine,” Sydney’s arm slipped around her shoulders, guiding her toward the stairs.

“Hmm,” she sighed. “Never been much of a breakfast eater, but it’s worth a shot.”

--

“Has anyone seen Debbie?” Broots asked, stepping off of the bottom stair into the kitchen. Parker, Sydney, and Ben were seated at the table. The men were sipping coffee while Parker sipped a cup of tea, dry toast half eaten on a plate in front of her.

“She’s in my room, Broots.” Miss Parker replied, lifting the toast into the air and eyeing it with trepidation.

“Y… your room, Miss Parker?” His steps stuttered much like his words as he came to halt beside the table.

“Yes,” her words were dry. “My room. I think she was frightened in the night, being somewhere unfamiliar. She came into my room and I let her stay.”

Broots nodded, “Thank you.” Drawing the attention away from her, he continued, “Now where are the coffee mugs?”

Ben stood and led him to the cabinet over the sink as Major Charles and Ethan walked in from the living room. “God, that’s a wonderful smell!” Ethan announced, heading toward the coffee pot with the other two.

The Major chuckled, pulling the chair next to Parker’s from beneath the table. She lifted her feet from where they had been resting on the cushion and placed them on the floor as he moved to take the seat.

“You look a little green,” he commented, gaze drifting over her tired features and down to the unfinished toast and cooling tea. His right hand fell over hers next to the teacup. “Are you all right, Parker?”

Smiling wanly, she answered, “I’ll be fine. Morning sickness.”

Nodding sagely, he patted her hand. “I have heard of a few home remedies over the years, maybe you’ll let me mix something up to help?”

Fighting back another wave of nausea, Parker nodded and frowned. “Just… no food.” Major Charles nodded before pushing his chair backward and preparing to stand.

Sydney Green was nothing if not a people watcher. He had observed the interaction between Miss Parker and Major Charles since they arrived the day before. What he had originally attributed to a cautious, purpose-oriented truce now seemed to be a genuine respect between the two. And, on the Major’s part, a genuine concern for Parker. Jarod would be horrified to learn that his father and Miss Parker appear to genuinely like each other. Or maybe amused. As Major Charles hand slipped over Parker’s, then patted it, Sydney’s eyes suddenly widened as if thunderstruck. His gaze fastened on the Major’s after finding Parker’s face turned away.

“The child,” Sydney stated, leaning backward and crossing his arms over his chest, “you believe it is yours, Major.”

Broots coffee cup shattered as it fell to the floor.










You must login (register) to review.