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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Pretender and its characters don’t belong to me. But since those who do own them won’t use them I’ll just borrow them for a while. I refuse to let Jarod and those he loves stagnate, to wither and die.
-
The Door of Memory
Part 6 – By Phenyx
11/28/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod was in heaven.
His eyes were closed and in the darkness behind his lids he savored this sensation. Parker’s warm body pressed against his, her hair soft against Jarod’s cheek. Her scent surrounded him and he felt as though he could gladly drown in the tantalizing aroma.
They were dancing. Well, they had started out dancing at any rate. But it had been hours since Jarod had held his hand out to Parker and she had taken it. Their first dance had been a waltz and they had moved together as easily as if they had been doing it all their lives.
Parker had made a smart-assed remark comparing Jarod to Fred Astaire. Jarod had, of course, taken it for the challenge it was. For the next hour, he proceeded to show Parker every dance step he knew. She had matched him stride for stride. Parker had even managed to teach him a thing or two during a sultry modern number that had left Jarod very hot and very bothered.
In all the years Jarod had known this woman, he had never felt as if he were permitted to touch her. Any physical contact was usually brief, avoided whenever possible. It was as if the pane of glass that separated them during their first meeting had never really been removed. But now, magically, the invisible barrier between them had vanished.
Wrapped comfortably in each other’s arms, Jarod and Parker were doing little more than swaying to the music at this point. With one hand, Jarod caressed soft little circles on Parker’s bare shoulder. With the other he held her close, resting his fingertips at the small of her back just above the curve of her derriere. He never wanted to let her go.
He was being rude. Jarod knew that. He had ignored everyone else at the reception. The wedding had been lovely and Jarod had maintained his decorum enough to at least act interested in the ceremony. But once the party had begun, he’d had eyes for no one but Miss Parker.
About an hour ago, Ethan had cut in, begging for a turn around the dance floor with his sister. Jarod had wanted to rip the young man apart in a fit of territorial envy. But being the semi-civilized, non-caveman that he was, Jarod had smiled politely and allowed it. He had gritted his teeth and danced with the bride, oozing as much charm as he could muster for the duration.
He’d been back at Parker’s side before the song had even ended.
“Jarod?” The delicate weight of Parker’s head on Jarod’s shoulder eased as she pulled back to look at him.
“Hmm?” Jarod kept his eyes closed, clinging to this paradise for as long as possible.
“They are cutting the cake,” Parker informed him.
“So?” Jarod could feel the gentle laughter in Parker’s body, though he could not hear it.
“I assumed you would want some,” Parker said.
“Not really,” Jarod replied. His voice was low and deep and carried a sleepy, relaxed tone that sounded strange even to his own ears.
Parker stiffened slightly, causing Jarod to open his eyes and frown. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked sternly.
“Very okay,” he assured her.
That perfect brow arched carefully at him. “It’s not like you to pass up a sugary confection such as that,” she said. “Icing and everything.”
Jarod smiled. She was teasing him again and he loved it. “I’ve been forced to set some priorities,” he told her. “Evidently, some things are far sweeter than others.” Jarod abruptly picked up speed, twirling them both in a tight circle. He ended the spin by folding Parker over his arm in a graceful dip. He held her there, suspended halfway to the floor as he murmured, “I’m still waiting to taste the sweetest.” Jarod’s eyes focused intently on Parker’s lips as he spoke, leaving little doubt as to his meaning.
Parker’s smile as he eased her upright sent shivers of anticipation down Jarod’s spine.
“I don’t know about that,” she said in a serious tone. “You may find me to be more bitter than you expect.”
“I’m willing to suffer the bitter in order to savor the sweet,” Jarod replied.
Parker laughed, a carefree delighted sound. “Oh my! You are laying it on thick aren’t you, Rat,” she chuckled. “Is that your plan, Jarod? Are you trying to charm the pants off me?”
Jarod’s grin faded as he gazed at her. “There is no plan, Miss Parker,” he said with all seriousness. “No grand scheme. I’ve simply stopped trying to deny what fate has in store for us. I’m just going with the flow, letting life happen.”
Parker’s gray eyes softened and Jarod could see the hint of fear that wavered in their depths.
She swallowed hard then said softly, “Sounds serious.”
“It could be,” Jarod answered gently. “If you would permit it. Besides,” he added, allowing his mischievous grin to reappear. “We already established that you weren’t wearing pants.” Jarod allowed one hand to drop, sliding over Parker’s tush in an intimate caress. “See?” he whispered appreciatively.
Parker hid her grin in Jarod’s shoulder. “It’s the only way to avoid panty lines,” she said in her own defense.
“Panty lines?” Jarod drooped his lower lip in a pout. “And here I thought it was for my benefit.”
“Fashion is always my first priority,” Parker explained.
Jarod snickered at her haughty tone. A disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him and Jarod had to pull back a bit to look into Parker’s face. “Parker?” he asked warily. “Have you ever pursued me sans panty lines?”
The smile that curled Parker’s lips was downright evil. “You mean, have I ever chased you down a dark alley,” she asked. “In hot pursuit of fleeing pretender, without my underwear?”
Jarod nodded.
“Maybe,” Parker replied with a small shrug.
All the air whooshed out of Jarod’s lungs in one strangled gasp. His mind flashed desperately through images of his past, searching his memory for every outfit he’d ever seen Parker wear.
“Are you okay?” Parker asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.
A little dazed, Jarod replied, “There is absolutely no blood getting to my brain at this moment. If I should pass out, make sure the paramedics get a complete medical history.”
Parker’s laugh was low and sultry. “You won’t need an ambulance, Rat,” she promised. “I’ll resuscitate you.”
“Oh God,” Jarod moaned. “I am in way over my head, aren’t I?”
“That’s what happens when you play in the big leagues, Pez-boy,” Parker scolded.
Jarod was still chuckling at her remark when someone tapped on his shoulder. “May we cut in?” a deep, amused voice asked.
Jarod turned to see his parents holding each other as they danced in much the same way as he and Parker. “You’ve already got a girl,” Jarod growled playfully at his father. “Leave mine alone.”
Parker made a rude noise and stepped away from Jarod. “In retaliation for that testosterone laden remark,” she said. “I would love to dance with you, Major.”
As the two men exchanged partners, the Major smiled. “Are you corrupting my son, Miss Parker?” he asked.
“The original boy scout?” she replied with a shake of her head. “More fiendish souls than I have tried. But he’s hopelessly incorruptible.”
“How unfortunate for you,” the Major sighed. “And so very frustrating.”
Parker grinned. “I see where Jarod gets that irritating charm of his.”
“It’s a cross we have to bear,” the Major said with a shrug. “Because we are so dashing.”
“Oh good grief,” Parker exclaimed. She rolled her eyes dramatically and laughed as Jarod watched his father twirl away with her.
Margaret reached up and caressed her son’s cheek, drawing his attention. “I’m a little relieved to see you behaving this way,” she said as they began to dance.
“Relieved?”
She nodded. “I’ve had you back in my life for two years. In all that time, I’ve never seen you show this much interest in a girl. Oh, you’ve had a handful of casual dates and you’ve been extremely polite whenever Emily or I have arranged introductions for you. But you’ve always been so cautious, never getting too close.”
Jarod shrugged. “My experience has never been with long term courtships. I never had the opportunity,” he said. “My relationships with women either spark immediately or not at all. There is no middle ground.”
With a frown his mother said, “For two people who dislike each other, you and Miss Parker seem to be exchanging plenty of sparks.”
“I never said that we disliked each other,” Jarod defended. “I said that we could bring out the worst in each other. But tonight, we are both playing nice.”
Tilting her head inquisitively Margaret went on. “Is that what your doing; playing? Is this a game between you?”
“It’s different now,” Jarod shrugged. “The old rules have all changed. It isn’t as dangerous as it once was.”
“But it is still a game,” she said. “The problem with games is that someone has to win.”
Jarod frowned but remained silent.
“One of you will win,” Margaret told him. “The other will lose. Just keep that in mind.”
“Can’t we both win?” Jarod asked hopefully.
His mother shook her head sadly. “Not if you are playing with each other, no. If things are more serious than that, if there’s more to it than the sexual tête-à-tête I’ve seen tonight, only then is there a chance for happiness on both sides.”
Jarod mulled over his mother’s words for the rest of the evening. If Parker noticed a marked cooling in their banter, she didn’t mention it. They continued to flirt, but on a more subtle level than they had been.
It was nearly midnight before the party was over and Jarod walked Parker to her room. They stood in the hallway, staring at each other for an achingly long moment. The nearly uncontrollable lust Jarod had felt when Parker had first appeared on the stairs this afternoon had all but vanished. He still wanted her. He wanted her desperately. But his need was on a much deeper level than the physical simplicity of sex.
“I had a really good time, Jarod,” Parker said gently.
“Me too,” Jarod replied. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants to keep from fidgeting.
“If Lyle could see us now, he’d chew off his other thumb,” she added in a wry voice.
The mention of Parker’s twin brought a frown to Jarod’s face. Simply uttering the name seemed to cast them back into their old roles, Parker the ice queen and Jarod the lab-rat. Jarod looked down at the floor, quickly finding his shiny shoes to be of great interest.
“I’m sorry,” Parker sighed. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Jarod swallowed and looked up at her. He could feel the glass wall going back up between them but he was helpless to stop it. He abruptly wondered which of them was placing it there.
“Good night, Miss Parker,” he said in a voice little more than a whisper.
Parker nodded slowly. Then, with agonizing slowness, she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped across the threshold. She turned to look at Jarod, her gray eyes filled with expectation. He said nothing.
After a full minute of silence, Parker sighed and said, “Good night, Jarod.” Then she closed the door between them.
Jarod stood in the hall, staring at the blank door as he listened to his heartbeat thundering in his ears. After a time, he could tell that the light in Parker’s room had gone out. Only then did he head for his own room, alone.
-
The Door of Memory
Part 6 – By Phenyx
11/28/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod was in heaven.
His eyes were closed and in the darkness behind his lids he savored this sensation. Parker’s warm body pressed against his, her hair soft against Jarod’s cheek. Her scent surrounded him and he felt as though he could gladly drown in the tantalizing aroma.
They were dancing. Well, they had started out dancing at any rate. But it had been hours since Jarod had held his hand out to Parker and she had taken it. Their first dance had been a waltz and they had moved together as easily as if they had been doing it all their lives.
Parker had made a smart-assed remark comparing Jarod to Fred Astaire. Jarod had, of course, taken it for the challenge it was. For the next hour, he proceeded to show Parker every dance step he knew. She had matched him stride for stride. Parker had even managed to teach him a thing or two during a sultry modern number that had left Jarod very hot and very bothered.
In all the years Jarod had known this woman, he had never felt as if he were permitted to touch her. Any physical contact was usually brief, avoided whenever possible. It was as if the pane of glass that separated them during their first meeting had never really been removed. But now, magically, the invisible barrier between them had vanished.
Wrapped comfortably in each other’s arms, Jarod and Parker were doing little more than swaying to the music at this point. With one hand, Jarod caressed soft little circles on Parker’s bare shoulder. With the other he held her close, resting his fingertips at the small of her back just above the curve of her derriere. He never wanted to let her go.
He was being rude. Jarod knew that. He had ignored everyone else at the reception. The wedding had been lovely and Jarod had maintained his decorum enough to at least act interested in the ceremony. But once the party had begun, he’d had eyes for no one but Miss Parker.
About an hour ago, Ethan had cut in, begging for a turn around the dance floor with his sister. Jarod had wanted to rip the young man apart in a fit of territorial envy. But being the semi-civilized, non-caveman that he was, Jarod had smiled politely and allowed it. He had gritted his teeth and danced with the bride, oozing as much charm as he could muster for the duration.
He’d been back at Parker’s side before the song had even ended.
“Jarod?” The delicate weight of Parker’s head on Jarod’s shoulder eased as she pulled back to look at him.
“Hmm?” Jarod kept his eyes closed, clinging to this paradise for as long as possible.
“They are cutting the cake,” Parker informed him.
“So?” Jarod could feel the gentle laughter in Parker’s body, though he could not hear it.
“I assumed you would want some,” Parker said.
“Not really,” Jarod replied. His voice was low and deep and carried a sleepy, relaxed tone that sounded strange even to his own ears.
Parker stiffened slightly, causing Jarod to open his eyes and frown. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked sternly.
“Very okay,” he assured her.
That perfect brow arched carefully at him. “It’s not like you to pass up a sugary confection such as that,” she said. “Icing and everything.”
Jarod smiled. She was teasing him again and he loved it. “I’ve been forced to set some priorities,” he told her. “Evidently, some things are far sweeter than others.” Jarod abruptly picked up speed, twirling them both in a tight circle. He ended the spin by folding Parker over his arm in a graceful dip. He held her there, suspended halfway to the floor as he murmured, “I’m still waiting to taste the sweetest.” Jarod’s eyes focused intently on Parker’s lips as he spoke, leaving little doubt as to his meaning.
Parker’s smile as he eased her upright sent shivers of anticipation down Jarod’s spine.
“I don’t know about that,” she said in a serious tone. “You may find me to be more bitter than you expect.”
“I’m willing to suffer the bitter in order to savor the sweet,” Jarod replied.
Parker laughed, a carefree delighted sound. “Oh my! You are laying it on thick aren’t you, Rat,” she chuckled. “Is that your plan, Jarod? Are you trying to charm the pants off me?”
Jarod’s grin faded as he gazed at her. “There is no plan, Miss Parker,” he said with all seriousness. “No grand scheme. I’ve simply stopped trying to deny what fate has in store for us. I’m just going with the flow, letting life happen.”
Parker’s gray eyes softened and Jarod could see the hint of fear that wavered in their depths.
She swallowed hard then said softly, “Sounds serious.”
“It could be,” Jarod answered gently. “If you would permit it. Besides,” he added, allowing his mischievous grin to reappear. “We already established that you weren’t wearing pants.” Jarod allowed one hand to drop, sliding over Parker’s tush in an intimate caress. “See?” he whispered appreciatively.
Parker hid her grin in Jarod’s shoulder. “It’s the only way to avoid panty lines,” she said in her own defense.
“Panty lines?” Jarod drooped his lower lip in a pout. “And here I thought it was for my benefit.”
“Fashion is always my first priority,” Parker explained.
Jarod snickered at her haughty tone. A disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him and Jarod had to pull back a bit to look into Parker’s face. “Parker?” he asked warily. “Have you ever pursued me sans panty lines?”
The smile that curled Parker’s lips was downright evil. “You mean, have I ever chased you down a dark alley,” she asked. “In hot pursuit of fleeing pretender, without my underwear?”
Jarod nodded.
“Maybe,” Parker replied with a small shrug.
All the air whooshed out of Jarod’s lungs in one strangled gasp. His mind flashed desperately through images of his past, searching his memory for every outfit he’d ever seen Parker wear.
“Are you okay?” Parker asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.
A little dazed, Jarod replied, “There is absolutely no blood getting to my brain at this moment. If I should pass out, make sure the paramedics get a complete medical history.”
Parker’s laugh was low and sultry. “You won’t need an ambulance, Rat,” she promised. “I’ll resuscitate you.”
“Oh God,” Jarod moaned. “I am in way over my head, aren’t I?”
“That’s what happens when you play in the big leagues, Pez-boy,” Parker scolded.
Jarod was still chuckling at her remark when someone tapped on his shoulder. “May we cut in?” a deep, amused voice asked.
Jarod turned to see his parents holding each other as they danced in much the same way as he and Parker. “You’ve already got a girl,” Jarod growled playfully at his father. “Leave mine alone.”
Parker made a rude noise and stepped away from Jarod. “In retaliation for that testosterone laden remark,” she said. “I would love to dance with you, Major.”
As the two men exchanged partners, the Major smiled. “Are you corrupting my son, Miss Parker?” he asked.
“The original boy scout?” she replied with a shake of her head. “More fiendish souls than I have tried. But he’s hopelessly incorruptible.”
“How unfortunate for you,” the Major sighed. “And so very frustrating.”
Parker grinned. “I see where Jarod gets that irritating charm of his.”
“It’s a cross we have to bear,” the Major said with a shrug. “Because we are so dashing.”
“Oh good grief,” Parker exclaimed. She rolled her eyes dramatically and laughed as Jarod watched his father twirl away with her.
Margaret reached up and caressed her son’s cheek, drawing his attention. “I’m a little relieved to see you behaving this way,” she said as they began to dance.
“Relieved?”
She nodded. “I’ve had you back in my life for two years. In all that time, I’ve never seen you show this much interest in a girl. Oh, you’ve had a handful of casual dates and you’ve been extremely polite whenever Emily or I have arranged introductions for you. But you’ve always been so cautious, never getting too close.”
Jarod shrugged. “My experience has never been with long term courtships. I never had the opportunity,” he said. “My relationships with women either spark immediately or not at all. There is no middle ground.”
With a frown his mother said, “For two people who dislike each other, you and Miss Parker seem to be exchanging plenty of sparks.”
“I never said that we disliked each other,” Jarod defended. “I said that we could bring out the worst in each other. But tonight, we are both playing nice.”
Tilting her head inquisitively Margaret went on. “Is that what your doing; playing? Is this a game between you?”
“It’s different now,” Jarod shrugged. “The old rules have all changed. It isn’t as dangerous as it once was.”
“But it is still a game,” she said. “The problem with games is that someone has to win.”
Jarod frowned but remained silent.
“One of you will win,” Margaret told him. “The other will lose. Just keep that in mind.”
“Can’t we both win?” Jarod asked hopefully.
His mother shook her head sadly. “Not if you are playing with each other, no. If things are more serious than that, if there’s more to it than the sexual tête-à-tête I’ve seen tonight, only then is there a chance for happiness on both sides.”
Jarod mulled over his mother’s words for the rest of the evening. If Parker noticed a marked cooling in their banter, she didn’t mention it. They continued to flirt, but on a more subtle level than they had been.
It was nearly midnight before the party was over and Jarod walked Parker to her room. They stood in the hallway, staring at each other for an achingly long moment. The nearly uncontrollable lust Jarod had felt when Parker had first appeared on the stairs this afternoon had all but vanished. He still wanted her. He wanted her desperately. But his need was on a much deeper level than the physical simplicity of sex.
“I had a really good time, Jarod,” Parker said gently.
“Me too,” Jarod replied. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants to keep from fidgeting.
“If Lyle could see us now, he’d chew off his other thumb,” she added in a wry voice.
The mention of Parker’s twin brought a frown to Jarod’s face. Simply uttering the name seemed to cast them back into their old roles, Parker the ice queen and Jarod the lab-rat. Jarod looked down at the floor, quickly finding his shiny shoes to be of great interest.
“I’m sorry,” Parker sighed. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Jarod swallowed and looked up at her. He could feel the glass wall going back up between them but he was helpless to stop it. He abruptly wondered which of them was placing it there.
“Good night, Miss Parker,” he said in a voice little more than a whisper.
Parker nodded slowly. Then, with agonizing slowness, she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped across the threshold. She turned to look at Jarod, her gray eyes filled with expectation. He said nothing.
After a full minute of silence, Parker sighed and said, “Good night, Jarod.” Then she closed the door between them.
Jarod stood in the hall, staring at the blank door as he listened to his heartbeat thundering in his ears. After a time, he could tell that the light in Parker’s room had gone out. Only then did he head for his own room, alone.
