Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
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.
-
Author’s note: Next time you watch the episode “Til Death do us Part”, watch Jarod when he goes to Tommy’s grave. He has flowers in one hand and an odd look on his face. At first, he won’t even look at Parker. He admits that he was in her room and that he saw her drooling. I wonder what else he saw…
-
The Door of Memory
Part 7 – By Phenyx
12/01/04
“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 lay on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. He had changed out of his rented tuxedo and into a well-worn pair of jeans. After serious consideration, Jarod had decided against testing the effectiveness of a cold shower. He had no desire to wash away the scent that was clinging to his pores. Parker’s perfume followed him everywhere as if she had somehow marked him with her own unique set of pheromones.
The thought of her, sleeping just down the hall, was slowly driving Jarod insane. He could picture her in his mind. The dark hair feathered across her pillow. The long lashes resting on white cheeks. He had seen her in slumber before; calling up the memory wasn’t difficult.
He sighed heavily, remembering the relaxed, innocent look of her when in repose. Once, he had snuck into her room to remove the firing pin from her gun. As he slid the pistol from beneath her pillow, Miss Parker had shifted anxiously in her sleep. When she moved, the silky satin of the bed sheet drifted from her shoulder and Jarod had found himself staring at a single perfect mound of breast.
At the time, Jarod had been mortified to realize that he was ogling Parker when she was most vulnerable. He had bolted from the room as if the devil himself had caught Jarod in the act. The next morning when he had met Parker in the cemetery, Jarod’s embarrassment had made it difficult to look her in the face at first.
Jarod had gotten over his discomfort by confessing, in part anyway. He had quickly admitted to being in Parker’s room the night before. Her rage had been the incentive Jarod needed to put aside his shame. And yet, he had never told her about the revealing nature of her sleeping attire. He probably never would. It was a guilty secret he enjoyed far too much.
Jarod sighed again. These thoughts were maddening. Giving up on the pretense of sleep, he rose from the bed and left his room. Shirtless and barefoot, Jarod made his way through the dark house without a sound. He faltered for only a moment as he passed Parker’s door.
The clock in the den began to chime the half hour. It was 3:30, less than an hour before Jarod would be rising anyway. In the kitchen, Jarod turned on the light and blinked while his eyes adjusted. Moving now on automatic pilot, Jarod went about making the day’s first pot of coffee. Jarod measured the grounds then pressed the brewing button before pulling a mug from the cabinet.
For a minute or two he simply stood there, staring blankly at the brown liquid as it trickled into the carafe. With an impatient puff between his lips, Jarod looked around hoping to find something to capture his attention for the next few minutes. The kitchen still held signs of last night’s party. There were some dishes in the sink that would need to be washed, but Jarod decided that it could wait until after he’d had a jolt of caffeine.
The wedding cake, or what was left of it, sat draped in cellophane on the counter. Jarod gazed at it for a long moment with the same bland interest he’d shown the percolating coffee. The almond flavored cake had been a three-tiered affair at one point, but only half of the largest circle remained. The pure white icing with its red and pink flowers was totally unmarred. It looked as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and expertly cut out half a picture from a magazine.
Jarod frowned. The pristine decorations bothered him for a reason he couldn’t begin to fathom. On one side, the dessert was gone, vanished as though surgically excised from the whole. On the other, everything was perfect, perfect roses on a perfect white background.
Out of shear spite and rebelliousness, Jarod reached out with one hand, lifting the plastic wrap. Then he ran an index finger down the edge of the cake, scooping up looped swirls of icing as he went. As he popped the sugary topping into his mouth, Jarod smiled with satisfaction at the minor destruction he’d inflicted.
“I knew it,” a voice chided from behind him.
Jarod nearly jumped out of his skin. Flinching like a child caught being naughty he whirled around in shock. Unconsciously, Jarod kept his hand behind his back, as if he could hide the telltale stickiness that still coated his finger.
“I knew that cake would be calling to you,” Miss Parker said.
“Damn it, Parker,” Jarod gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Oh grow up,” she snapped. “You do it all the time.”
“I do not!”
“Please!” Parker replied. “You’re grade-A stalker material. Sneaky is probably your middle name.”
Jarod wasn’t in the mood to start an argument with her so he decided to change the subject. “Having trouble sleeping?” he asked as he casually went to the sink. He quickly washed away any trace evidence of the cake’s demise.
“Not really,” Parker said gruffly. “In my time zone, the sun is already up.” She sat down at the kitchen table and glanced longingly at the coffee pot. “But I will be feeling ten times better if you tell me that coffee is ready.”
Jarod retrieved a second mug and wordlessly poured out two servings. He placed one in front of Parker before returning to his post against the counter. They remained that way, silently drinking their coffee, for several minutes.
“I would have let you stay the night in my room if you had asked,” Parker said suddenly. Her voice was soft and without accusation.
Jarod gazed into his cup before answering. “I really wanted to ask.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Good question,” he replied with a heavy sigh. He shrugged. “I want more than one night, Parker.”
Parker’s gray eyes looked up at Jarod. The hardness he was accustomed to seeing there was gone. Instead their depths seemed to hold eternity. “My flight leaves this afternoon,” she said.
“Stay,” Jarod pleaded. The word dropped from his lips before he’d registered it as a thought.
“Not an option,” Parker’s tone turned sharp.
“Why?”
Thumping her cup against the table forcefully, Parker stood up. “Because I said so,” she answered angrily. She ran one hand through her hair in a habitual gesture of defeat and sorrow. She walked away, turning back toward Jarod when she had reached the doorway. “The night won’t be over for a couple of hours yet,” she observed with a sly smile.
Jarod blinked in confusion. “You’re giving me another shot?” he asked with surprise.
She shrugged one shoulder at him. “Why not?” she said. “It’ll be fun.”
Jarod’s feet actually moved. He stepped forward, ready for a split second, to submit to anything she wanted to do to him. But then his brain fired again. He stopped and gave voice to the thoughts as they appeared. “Which is worse? Never understanding what is missing in your life? Or having it for a brief time, only to lose it again?”
Parker didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. They both knew. They had both lived it.
“You’re a coward,” Parker growled.
“I love you,” Jarod said.
Parker shook her head sadly. “Don’t say that.” Her voice was hard and demanding, but Jarod could see dampness in her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t mean it,” she said as she looked away from him.
Jarod could feel his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. “Don’t tell me what I feel,” he hissed. “You have no right to trivialize what is in my heart.”
“You’re right,” Parker replied. “Your heart is none of my concern.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Jarod fell into the nearest chair with a thud. He couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. He was flustered, confused and hurt, with no idea what he should do about it. He was still sitting there, deep in thought, when his sister came into the kitchen three hours later.
“Good morning,” she called cheerily. “Did you leave any coffee?” When Jarod didn’t answer, Emily frowned and sat at the table beside him. “Are you okay, big brother?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he answered slowly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jarod’s dark eyes gazed into Emily’s, so much like his own. “I’m in love with Miss Parker,” he answered.
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” Jarod nodded.
Emily chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip for a moment. With a shake of her head she spoke. “You had better be damn sure, Jarod. The Parkers can be pretty cruel. I would hate to see you get hurt.”
Jarod slammed his palms against the table hard enough to make the coffee cups jump. He stood up so fast that his chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. “Stop it!” he yelled. “I’m sick and tired of people telling me how concerned they are. This is hard enough without everyone harassing me about it! My falling for someone should not constitute an increased threat advisory!”
Emily stared at her brother in wide-eyed amazement. The look on her face zapped Jarod’s anger as quickly as it had come. “Oh, Em,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, I have no cause for screaming at you like that.”
“It’s okay,” she replied with a smile. “We all lose our tempers once in a while. It proves you’re human.”
Jarod stepped to Emily’s side and hugged her tightly. “I’m still sorry,” he whispered.
“You’ve got it for her bad, huh?” Emily asked.
Jarod sighed. “You have no idea.”
“And you’ve got the whole Montague and Capulet thing going too,” she said.
“Come now,” he frowned. “Things aren’t that tragic.”
Emily giggled. “Well there is a bit of a feud going between us and the Parkers,” she explained.
“I wouldn’t call it a feud exactly,” Jarod said with a grin. “Lyle and I are the only ones who duel at twenty paces.”
“Uh-oh,” Emily said pointedly. “If you’re not careful, Lyle could end up as your brother-in-law.”
“As Ethan’s half-brother, Lyle and I are already related in a way.” Jarod shrugged. “Besides, she’s worth it.”
Emily cast her brother a strange, wary glance. “If she means so much to you,” Emily asked cautiously. “Why are you sitting here talking to me, while she’s all alone upstairs?”
Jarod frowned. “She’s leaving today.”
“Make her stay,” Emily said simply.
“She doesn’t want to,” Jarod sighed.
“You’re going to let that stop you?” Emily shook her head. “I thought you were more tenacious than that Jarod.”
Jarod cocked his head and stared thoughtfully at his sister.
“All is fair in love and war, dear brother,” she whispered. “You do whatever is necessary to win your lady’s heart.”
“Win her heart,” Jarod repeated in hushed awe.
With a shrug Emily added, “Assuming she still has one.”
“She does,” Jarod replied. “I can feel it beating within my own.”
Patting the back of her brother’s hand, Emily said, “Maybe your heart is big enough for the both of you.”
-
-
Author’s note: Next time you watch the episode “Til Death do us Part”, watch Jarod when he goes to Tommy’s grave. He has flowers in one hand and an odd look on his face. At first, he won’t even look at Parker. He admits that he was in her room and that he saw her drooling. I wonder what else he saw…
-
The Door of Memory
Part 7 – By Phenyx
12/01/04
“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 lay on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. He had changed out of his rented tuxedo and into a well-worn pair of jeans. After serious consideration, Jarod had decided against testing the effectiveness of a cold shower. He had no desire to wash away the scent that was clinging to his pores. Parker’s perfume followed him everywhere as if she had somehow marked him with her own unique set of pheromones.
The thought of her, sleeping just down the hall, was slowly driving Jarod insane. He could picture her in his mind. The dark hair feathered across her pillow. The long lashes resting on white cheeks. He had seen her in slumber before; calling up the memory wasn’t difficult.
He sighed heavily, remembering the relaxed, innocent look of her when in repose. Once, he had snuck into her room to remove the firing pin from her gun. As he slid the pistol from beneath her pillow, Miss Parker had shifted anxiously in her sleep. When she moved, the silky satin of the bed sheet drifted from her shoulder and Jarod had found himself staring at a single perfect mound of breast.
At the time, Jarod had been mortified to realize that he was ogling Parker when she was most vulnerable. He had bolted from the room as if the devil himself had caught Jarod in the act. The next morning when he had met Parker in the cemetery, Jarod’s embarrassment had made it difficult to look her in the face at first.
Jarod had gotten over his discomfort by confessing, in part anyway. He had quickly admitted to being in Parker’s room the night before. Her rage had been the incentive Jarod needed to put aside his shame. And yet, he had never told her about the revealing nature of her sleeping attire. He probably never would. It was a guilty secret he enjoyed far too much.
Jarod sighed again. These thoughts were maddening. Giving up on the pretense of sleep, he rose from the bed and left his room. Shirtless and barefoot, Jarod made his way through the dark house without a sound. He faltered for only a moment as he passed Parker’s door.
The clock in the den began to chime the half hour. It was 3:30, less than an hour before Jarod would be rising anyway. In the kitchen, Jarod turned on the light and blinked while his eyes adjusted. Moving now on automatic pilot, Jarod went about making the day’s first pot of coffee. Jarod measured the grounds then pressed the brewing button before pulling a mug from the cabinet.
For a minute or two he simply stood there, staring blankly at the brown liquid as it trickled into the carafe. With an impatient puff between his lips, Jarod looked around hoping to find something to capture his attention for the next few minutes. The kitchen still held signs of last night’s party. There were some dishes in the sink that would need to be washed, but Jarod decided that it could wait until after he’d had a jolt of caffeine.
The wedding cake, or what was left of it, sat draped in cellophane on the counter. Jarod gazed at it for a long moment with the same bland interest he’d shown the percolating coffee. The almond flavored cake had been a three-tiered affair at one point, but only half of the largest circle remained. The pure white icing with its red and pink flowers was totally unmarred. It looked as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and expertly cut out half a picture from a magazine.
Jarod frowned. The pristine decorations bothered him for a reason he couldn’t begin to fathom. On one side, the dessert was gone, vanished as though surgically excised from the whole. On the other, everything was perfect, perfect roses on a perfect white background.
Out of shear spite and rebelliousness, Jarod reached out with one hand, lifting the plastic wrap. Then he ran an index finger down the edge of the cake, scooping up looped swirls of icing as he went. As he popped the sugary topping into his mouth, Jarod smiled with satisfaction at the minor destruction he’d inflicted.
“I knew it,” a voice chided from behind him.
Jarod nearly jumped out of his skin. Flinching like a child caught being naughty he whirled around in shock. Unconsciously, Jarod kept his hand behind his back, as if he could hide the telltale stickiness that still coated his finger.
“I knew that cake would be calling to you,” Miss Parker said.
“Damn it, Parker,” Jarod gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Oh grow up,” she snapped. “You do it all the time.”
“I do not!”
“Please!” Parker replied. “You’re grade-A stalker material. Sneaky is probably your middle name.”
Jarod wasn’t in the mood to start an argument with her so he decided to change the subject. “Having trouble sleeping?” he asked as he casually went to the sink. He quickly washed away any trace evidence of the cake’s demise.
“Not really,” Parker said gruffly. “In my time zone, the sun is already up.” She sat down at the kitchen table and glanced longingly at the coffee pot. “But I will be feeling ten times better if you tell me that coffee is ready.”
Jarod retrieved a second mug and wordlessly poured out two servings. He placed one in front of Parker before returning to his post against the counter. They remained that way, silently drinking their coffee, for several minutes.
“I would have let you stay the night in my room if you had asked,” Parker said suddenly. Her voice was soft and without accusation.
Jarod gazed into his cup before answering. “I really wanted to ask.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Good question,” he replied with a heavy sigh. He shrugged. “I want more than one night, Parker.”
Parker’s gray eyes looked up at Jarod. The hardness he was accustomed to seeing there was gone. Instead their depths seemed to hold eternity. “My flight leaves this afternoon,” she said.
“Stay,” Jarod pleaded. The word dropped from his lips before he’d registered it as a thought.
“Not an option,” Parker’s tone turned sharp.
“Why?”
Thumping her cup against the table forcefully, Parker stood up. “Because I said so,” she answered angrily. She ran one hand through her hair in a habitual gesture of defeat and sorrow. She walked away, turning back toward Jarod when she had reached the doorway. “The night won’t be over for a couple of hours yet,” she observed with a sly smile.
Jarod blinked in confusion. “You’re giving me another shot?” he asked with surprise.
She shrugged one shoulder at him. “Why not?” she said. “It’ll be fun.”
Jarod’s feet actually moved. He stepped forward, ready for a split second, to submit to anything she wanted to do to him. But then his brain fired again. He stopped and gave voice to the thoughts as they appeared. “Which is worse? Never understanding what is missing in your life? Or having it for a brief time, only to lose it again?”
Parker didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. They both knew. They had both lived it.
“You’re a coward,” Parker growled.
“I love you,” Jarod said.
Parker shook her head sadly. “Don’t say that.” Her voice was hard and demanding, but Jarod could see dampness in her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t mean it,” she said as she looked away from him.
Jarod could feel his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. “Don’t tell me what I feel,” he hissed. “You have no right to trivialize what is in my heart.”
“You’re right,” Parker replied. “Your heart is none of my concern.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Jarod fell into the nearest chair with a thud. He couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. He was flustered, confused and hurt, with no idea what he should do about it. He was still sitting there, deep in thought, when his sister came into the kitchen three hours later.
“Good morning,” she called cheerily. “Did you leave any coffee?” When Jarod didn’t answer, Emily frowned and sat at the table beside him. “Are you okay, big brother?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he answered slowly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jarod’s dark eyes gazed into Emily’s, so much like his own. “I’m in love with Miss Parker,” he answered.
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” Jarod nodded.
Emily chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip for a moment. With a shake of her head she spoke. “You had better be damn sure, Jarod. The Parkers can be pretty cruel. I would hate to see you get hurt.”
Jarod slammed his palms against the table hard enough to make the coffee cups jump. He stood up so fast that his chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. “Stop it!” he yelled. “I’m sick and tired of people telling me how concerned they are. This is hard enough without everyone harassing me about it! My falling for someone should not constitute an increased threat advisory!”
Emily stared at her brother in wide-eyed amazement. The look on her face zapped Jarod’s anger as quickly as it had come. “Oh, Em,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, I have no cause for screaming at you like that.”
“It’s okay,” she replied with a smile. “We all lose our tempers once in a while. It proves you’re human.”
Jarod stepped to Emily’s side and hugged her tightly. “I’m still sorry,” he whispered.
“You’ve got it for her bad, huh?” Emily asked.
Jarod sighed. “You have no idea.”
“And you’ve got the whole Montague and Capulet thing going too,” she said.
“Come now,” he frowned. “Things aren’t that tragic.”
Emily giggled. “Well there is a bit of a feud going between us and the Parkers,” she explained.
“I wouldn’t call it a feud exactly,” Jarod said with a grin. “Lyle and I are the only ones who duel at twenty paces.”
“Uh-oh,” Emily said pointedly. “If you’re not careful, Lyle could end up as your brother-in-law.”
“As Ethan’s half-brother, Lyle and I are already related in a way.” Jarod shrugged. “Besides, she’s worth it.”
Emily cast her brother a strange, wary glance. “If she means so much to you,” Emily asked cautiously. “Why are you sitting here talking to me, while she’s all alone upstairs?”
Jarod frowned. “She’s leaving today.”
“Make her stay,” Emily said simply.
“She doesn’t want to,” Jarod sighed.
“You’re going to let that stop you?” Emily shook her head. “I thought you were more tenacious than that Jarod.”
Jarod cocked his head and stared thoughtfully at his sister.
“All is fair in love and war, dear brother,” she whispered. “You do whatever is necessary to win your lady’s heart.”
“Win her heart,” Jarod repeated in hushed awe.
With a shrug Emily added, “Assuming she still has one.”
“She does,” Jarod replied. “I can feel it beating within my own.”
Patting the back of her brother’s hand, Emily said, “Maybe your heart is big enough for the both of you.”
-
