Chapter Fourteen

Jarod

„Out of my way, chap. I am on a mission." Compelled by the power of Val, I stepped aside and allowed her to waltz into the house.

"I know I really shouldn't be talking to your insensitive ass right now, but I feel the need to tell you that you're making a bloody soap opera out of your life." Having said those words she nodded, as if satisfied with herself, then proceeded up the stairs where Parker had taken up residence in her study. I hadn't even tried to trespass since from earlier incidents I knew her to throw books at the door if I did as much as knock.

It was only two minutes later, that the doorbell rang again. Warily, I trotted towards the door and opened it to reveal Christine in a velvet evening gown, a stern look on her face.

"Well, well," she said without preamble. "Would you like some epic with that fail?" She cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow and motioned for me to step aside so she could enter.

No further words were exchanged as she elegantly lifted a corner of her flowing skirt in order to climb the stairs. She had probably been on a date of some sorts when Parker had called her. I went back into the living-room where on the small coffee-table, I had put an item I had not looked at in years. Having it stored away in a closet in the basement, I had almost been able to tell myself that I had forgotten about it. Now faced with it again, it seemed like an alien object from another universe. The dust was smeared as I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the DSA-player and picked a familiar disk.

With the flipping of a switch, a little boy appeared on the screen, his brows furrowed and his body slumped on a bed. A young man approached him and sat down next to him.

"You look sad, Jarod."

"I am, Sydney."

There was a moment of silence and Sydney's hand twitched, as if he actually wanted to touch his protegee reassuringly but then restrained himself for the sake of protocol.

"I miss my mom and dad."

I felt just as choked up as I had always felt when I had watched the heart-breaking moment. I was still feeling the pain of being so lonely but only because it had lasted long into my adult years. The moment itself which I was watching right now, was forever lost from my memory and I envied the little boy for the knowledge he possessed, the memories of his parents he still had, while his older self had forgotten and was unable to retrieve them.

"I know you do, Jarod. But we have to work on the SIM."

"I want to see my mommy," little Jarod pleaded.

I hit the button again and the screen went dark. For years it had been this little boy's ambition to find his family and finally be a son again. And now he had accomplished that goal. But at what cost? I wasn't that little boy anymore, I realized. I was now also a husband and father and I had other responsibilities than I had had back when he had first fled the Centre.

Did I have to choose now? Was that the key to solving this situation? And why couldn't those two families merge into one? Was there even a slim chance of accomplishing that with everything that had happened? I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't bring myself to doing it.

Miss Parker

Sitting on the couch in my study I watched Val sit in my office chair and savor some of the Scotch I kept in a bottle in my desk drawer while Christine paced the lengths of the room with her long skirt swishing noisily whenever she turned. She looked very impressive, almost like a British queen.

"Can't believe Brootsie snogged you," Val finally opened the conversation and took another draft of the amber liquid.

"He tried."

"Was the man's tongue involved, pal?" Christine asked, dramatically turning on her heel.

"Not yet."

"Then the situation is not as grave as we thought," Christine mused.

"Why would the absence of the tongue in her mouth rule this 'not as grave as we thought'?" Val shot back. "Her husband walked in on them!"

"He deserves whatever comes his way!" Christine snapped. "His behavior at the restaurant was beyond stupid."

"Well, the poor man is between a rock and a hard place, Chris. Sister hates wife, wife has sharp tongue."

"I think we should stop all the talking about tongues. The thought of Broots' tongue in my mouth gives me the creeps, honestly." I interjected quickly, before they could raise their voices even more. I didn't want them to wake Sammy who had been shaken up enough when I had tucked her in. Some serious explanations were in order tomorrow morning and I wasn't looking forward to them.

"Tongue," Val said, emphasizing the word, which made Christine chuckle and me hit her.

"Not funny."

"Sorry."

"Now what are you going to do about Jarod?" Christine asked, her hands on her hips.

"I don't know. That's why I called you."

I sank back into the cushions of the couch and gave my best friends a long look. It was still new to me to have friends and to be able to discuss my problems with them in order to find a passable solution that did not solely mean to shut down and not let anybody in. Over the years I'd had minor crises which we had discussed and overcome successfully. This, however, was an entirely different matter. Still, they stood by me and gave me lots of comfort by just being there. I felt like hugging them both but then decided not to. No point in becoming a sappy despicable little creature.

"I'd say dump him if not for the kids," Christine announced.

"I'd say beat him with a stick," Val added thoughtfully. I decided that I needed to remember to have her take a taxi home later as she once again topped her whiskey.

"How about some useful advice?" I asked, uncomfortably stretching my back. My fall on the bathroom floor in the hotel, which I was still to tell my friends about , had given me a backache. Unfortunately my resident magic hands were kind of mad at me.

"I am sorry, pal. I just don't know whether he'll be able to make the stretch between his families," Christine mused. "He seems so lost and innocent when it comes to that matter."

"Little puppy that he is, he still loves you besides all his stupidity. You should try to work it out, put your personal issues aside for a moment," Val said. Her British accent was always stronger when she tried to be especially reasonable.

"My personal issues?" I asked, weakly, aware of the fact that she would give me a good beating next.

"He's nuts, but you are, too," Val said matter-of-factly. "We wouldn't be friends if you weren't because I am nuts, too."

"What she is trying to say is that you always try to be invincible despite the fact that you are just human. Just like us," Christine explained patiently. "Show him how you really feel without making it look as if you didn't need anyone. I mean, look at you. All barefoot and pregnant."

"I am not barefoot," I said, stubbornly.

"But you are in a delicate condition and you need to…."

"Christine, we are both going barf if you don't stop babbling soon," Val looked as stern as she did when she told the jury to stick the defendant in jail for life.

"I don't really know how to show anyone how I feel," I finally admitted. Maybe I had just become aware of it for the very first time myself because the words felt weird as they rolled off my tongue.

"You're doing it right now."

"I am talking about it. That is different." I suddenly felt tears welling up inside me, but found my body repressing them instinctively at the same time. I had never been able to really allow Jarod in my personal space. Being completely on my own for so many years had taken more of a toll on me than I had imagined.

"Cry if you want to, because… I BROUGHT THIS!" Christine extracted a box of tissues very much like the one Sydney had always kept in his office and put it on the desk with flourish. Val patted her shoulder affectionately.

"Half the time I have no idea what you're talking about, but sometimes you just know how to do the right thing," she said with some approval.

"Have I ever told you two nut cases how much you mean to me?" I burst out without much of my dignity left.

Christine practically flung herself at me, hugging me while Val just smiled. "I hope you're not going to, hon."

Jarod

While usually Val and Christine had the antics of a marching-band when they paraded around the house, today they vanished without much ado. The only thing I could hear was the soft clicking of the front door and when I looked up, Parker stood in the doorway. She had changed into comfortable slacks and one of my t-shirts which I took for a good sign. I wasn't even sure whether I was still angry with her or whether I had ever really been. Siding with my family always came naturally when they were around but as soon as I was on my own again it usually felt as if I had just come off mind-altering drugs.

"Watching home movies?" she asked, pointing at the DSA-player that was still sitting on the coffee table.

"Just thinking about a few things."

"Yes. Me, too."

She approached the couch and lowered herself down on it, her hand on her stomach. We sat in silence for a moment, before she took my hand. I wondered when she had last done that but came up empty-handed. She did like to be hugged by me or sleep in my arms, but she was very guarded when it came to public displays of affection.

"He's moving," she said and it took me a moment to understand that she was talking about our son. Without asking for her approval, I moved my hand over her slightly swollen middle and waited until I could feel a very soft flutter.

"Do you remember the night Sammy was born?" she asked after a long silence and I couldn't help but notice her slight hesitation. This wasn't our favorite topic and we usually avoided it when we could, so I was surprised that she would bring it up tonight. Was that a good or a bad sign? As fatalistic as she was sometimes, I instinctively believed it to be the latter.

"How could I forget it?" I replied cautiously.

"I was in so much pain, I am afraid I wasn't quite myself." I was surprised as she admitted it for the very first time. Back then she had always given me the impression that it had all been my fault.

"I didn't know how to act any differently from how I did," she continued and I couldn't help but in my mind return to that night. I had been woken by Parker's pained hiss and had been fully awake in a matter of seconds. Since she had been so badly wounded and nearly died in the collapsing Centre, I was always on alert.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching around her instinctively.

"I…" She sounded scared and slapped my offered hand away when she struggled to sit up. Her breaths were irregular and she rubbed her stomach, moaning slightly. "I think I am in labor, Jarod."

My heart began to beat faster with both excitement and fear.

"I'll drive you to the hospital. Let me just call ahead." I was already half out of bed when I remembered to turn around and cup her pale cheek with my hand. She looked genuinely scared.

"How far apart are the contractions?"

"Eight minutes", she answered without the slightest hesitation.

"But… then you must have been in labor for quite some time!"

"Five hours, Jarod. Hurry!" she said from between gritted teeth and before I could question her any further, she had risen from the bed.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the local hospital, twenty minutes on I was sitting at her bedside, holding her hand, while she grew paler and paler.

"You need to breathe," I told her soothingly and reached out to stroke her forehead, but she turned her head away from me and gave a pained cry when another contraction hit.

"Your husband is right, Miss Parker," the doctor said. "You need to breathe through it."

"I… I can't." Parker's voice was far beyond strained and I could only guess how much pressure was on her lungs.

"You can, you just have to…" I began in a bid to pass some of the information I had gained from the Lamaze classes she had stubbornly refused to attend, but she shook her head, taking a short and ragged breath. "I can't… breathe…" And now I realized that something must be really wrong.

"Could you please step aside, sir." The doctor was talking with controlled urgency as they strapped an oxygen mask to Parker's face. Her eyes were wide and glassy as she was struggling for breath. Damn it. The doctor in the ER after our escape from the Centre had told us that this might happen, but I hadn't expected it to.

My vision was blurred while I watched the doctor and the nurse calm Miss Parker down until they could take the mask off. They helped her into a sitting position and when she winced in pain again, I shot forward to reclaim her hand.

"Please…" she begged the doctor breathlessly. "Please get him out of here."

"But, Parker…" I tried in vain because she simply shook her head, unwilling to even talk to me or really acknowledge my trying to get through to her.

"Get him out."

"I am sorry, sir. She needs all her strength and she is already in enough of a frenzy," the elderly nurse said and touched my shoulder to gently move me towards the door. The last thing I saw before the door closed was Miss Parker's slapping away the doctor's outstretched hand.

Half an hour later said nurse had walked out into the corridor where I was waiting, a small bundle in her arms that she had handed over to me so I could see my daughter's face for the very first time.

Miss Parker

One of the benefits of having known each other your whole life is that you can tell exactly what the other one is thinking. Jarod looked distant, as if in another world or back in the hospital where I had demanded he was sent out.

I remembered laying in that hospital bed after giving birth, my baby outside where I had insisted it would be taken first to meet its father. I had been exhausted and full of pain, aching to hold my daughter, but I had known that after depriving Jarod of seeing his daughter being born – which he had been looking forward to so much – the least I could do was allow him to hold her first.

I'd suddenly felt as alone and empty as if I had actually gone through with my father's initial plan. That is what it would have felt like to give her up to the Centre immediately after giving birth, I thought, horrified at the thought. And how could I explain to Jarod what had just happened?

I hadn't explained it back then, had just stretched my arms out for Sammy when he had walked back in and kissed her little face. I had never explained it. Not even when we had started fighting about it, when we'd had endless discussion about why I had done that to him.

"I would like to tell you why I was like that," I finally told Jarod, now and I could see from the surprised look on his face, that he had expected everything but.

"We nearly broke up over that back then and now you're finally going to tell me what was wrong?" There was no anger in his voice, just disbelief.

"I am sorry, but…" I trailed off. "Back then I didn't know what it was and later I just didn't want to remind you and myself by talking about it."

He looked at me expectantly and I realized that he no longer cared why I hadn't told him earlier, just wanted to finally know all my reasons for being the bad bitch from hell.

"I was afraid," I finally admitted. "So damn scared and the only way I knew was to do it alone. You know, it wasn't about you or anyone else. Just about me. When I am scared and I don't know how to deal with a situation I can't help it. I just have to do it on my own because allowing people to help me is just not what I was taught to do. It makes me feel so weak. I am better now, I am learning."

Jarod looked at me for a long moment: "That's all? It is that simple a reason?"

I nodded, desperately hoping for him to be able to even faintly grasp what I had just said. Yes, the reason sounded simple and almost pathetic. The problem was that I could not help who I was. I was trying every day and most of the time I adapted to life, but it was still a daily struggle. And back then, it had been even worse.

"I didn't even know who I was. When I regained my memory it felt as if I had been woken from a long sleep. I was still the person I had been during the amnesia but all the baggage from my old self had returned. I was suddenly pregnant and in love with you and my old self just couldn't deal with it. And Jarod…" I took a deep breath. "I think you're right. I should have really gone to see a shrink."

He took my hand a squeezed it. "I understand."

"I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be." Jarod leaned forward and very gently kissed my lips, filling me with the same tingly feeling that I'd had when we had first kissed a long time ago. His arms went around me and when he gently broke the kiss, he kissed my forehead.

"We're making this work," he said quietly. "I won't let you down around my parents anymore and you refrain from locking lips with former subordinates and it will all be okay."

Only when I laughed, I noticed the tears that had been running down my cheeks.

"I've never really seen you cry," he said and it sounded almost wondrous.

"I've always thought men who took pleasure in seeing their pregnant wives cry were cruel bastards," I said, unable to suppress the mixture of a chuckle and a sob that emerged from my throat.

"So did I."

We grinned at each other for a moment then Jarod pulled me fully into his arms.

"I guess I have to apologize for Emily, but you were pretty harsh with her, too."

"She upset Sammy with her stories about me trying to kill you."

"I know."

"We need to talk to Sammy about this. I barely got her to fall asleep earlier, but she was so exhausted that I guess it was right not to explain it all to her right away."

"We will. Anyway, what was Dr Summers doing at the hotel earlier?"

"Met her in the bathroom."

I went on to explain to Jarod how I had almost fainted and he creased his forehead.

"You said she gave you medication to relieve your dizziness?"

"Yes. Some herbal stuff. She said that my blood pressure was a little low and she knew patients on which herbal treatments had already worked. There are also vitamin supplements mixed in there, heck, I didn't really listen to her."

"You never do. Show me those pills."

"They are in my handbag. It's in my study."

He cupped my cheek and kissed me again which suddenly made me realize how little we had been touching each other during the past weeks and then got up from the sofa.

"I'll have a look at them."

"Doctors…!" I called after him then leaned back into the cushions of the sofa where Broots had kissed me just a couple of hours ago. I had always suspected he had a thing for me and Sydney, naturally, had always been certain of it. Poor Broots, I thought. I hoped I wasn't the reason that he had never found love even after his departure from Blue Cove. I loved Broots, in my own way, but I was simply not attracted to him. It had felt good to be comforted by him although it wasn't actually part of our relationship and already being so physically close to him, I had not realized what he had been about to do until it was too late. I touched my fingers to my lips just as I had done in the immediate aftermath of the kiss. It had been such a weird feeling and it had reminded me of the fact that I had been with the same man for six years now. And that I had never before had a relationship that had lasted that long. Broots had been the first man other than Jarod to touch his lips to mine for a very long time. And I had lied. Kissing Broots hadn't felt half as gross as I had told my girlfriends. On the contrary, it had been very tender and sweet. Still, it had only served to give me a sense of belonging. I knew who I wanted to be with without a doubt and having another man kiss me had just proved the point.

"This is weird," Jarod's voice sounded from the doorway and a moment later he lowered himself onto the sofa next to me.

"What?"

"On the label it says vitamin supplements with a herbal component. It is actually quite a common treatment. Who knows whether it actually works but sometimes the placebo effect alone is enough. I had this hypochondriac little patient. Joey, remember? I prescribed it to him so I know what the pills look like. And this is not it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, a sense of foreboding beginning to plague me. I had been a victim of exchanged pills before. Back then it had been birth control pills that had been swapped with fertility drugs. All they had brought me were a beautiful daughter… but now?

"Are you sure? Maybe they come in different shapes?"

"These ones are far too huge, actually," Jarod said, frowning with worry. "We should have these analyzed."

"Analyzed? Surely there must have been a mistake?"

"Did you get these at the pharmacy?"

"No. Dr Summers had them in stock. She just gave them to me."

"Is that her common practice?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Does she usually just hand out medication? She would normally give you a prescription, wouldn't she?"

"Yes…" I said hesitantly, not yet ready to face the possibilities, but Jarod was already on his feet.

"I'll call Sydney so he can come over and watch Sammy. You need to see a doctor right away."

He hurried out into the hall to get the phone while I stood, frozen in place. What the hell was Dr Summers up to? I had been her patient for three years now and there had never been a problem. Trust wasn't my thing, but I did trust her the way a patient trusts their doctor. Feeling dizzy again, I leaned against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. I had told her about my mild light-headedness and she had jumped to provide me with the little container of pills that Jarod now found so offensive. I had never questioned her motives with my mind elsewhere on the impending meeting with my parents in law. Vitamins? Good. Herbal remedies? Why the heck not? I had not given it a second thought when she had blabbed on about how many pregnant women had felt much better after taking said pills and how my body still needed to adjust to the child growing inside me. Yadda. Yadda. And the dizziness hadn't got any better. On the contrary, it had become worse. I had back then appointed it to my feeling increasingly uneasy due to the dinner date from hell approaching fast.

My mind was racing. I had never been good with taking medication as I had been advised to. Actually, I had almost always overdosed my ulcer medication in an attempt to get rid of the symptoms more quickly. With herbal remedies I hadn't even thought twice about taking more of the pills than the label on the bottle had said. And hadn't Dr Summers even encouraged me to do so? My throat felt dry and at the same time I felt rage bubbling up.

If anything was wrong with my child, Summers was going to pay for it.

TBC