Part Twenty

Charles Baxter

Jarod collapsed into the chair next to me and buried his face in his hands. I took in his crumpled clothes and ruffled hair for a moment and then gently placed my hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at me, his smile was tired but relieved.

"You've saved my son's life, Mister Baxter!" The words tumbled out of his mouth like the weight that had probably been resting on his shoulders for the past few hours. We hardly knew each other and we were exact opposites but despite all that I felt a strong feeling of familiarity that might or might not be connected to our both being pretenders. Giving in to a very rare urge, I squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"So he is out of danger?" I asked.

Jarod nodded. "Dr Flannigan was less than thrilled to use a foreign substance but when she saw the results, she was amazed. He is still very small and weak but he is out of immediate danger. We only wanted to administer him as much of the medication as was necessary to save his life and so he will have to remain in the incubator for a couple of days."

"I am glad that I could help," I said, truthfully. "How is your wife?"

"She has developed a fever and is in and out of consciousness. I have been sitting with her but she is delirious right now. The doctors say she will be fine, though."

Now that the facts had been exchanged, Jarod seemed to grow uneasy in my presence. We looked at each other silently for a long moment.

"Not everyone is like you, you know." I finally said. "I don't know how you kept your sanity after what you must have gone through but I kept mine by living my life the way I do."

Jarod avoided my gaze and rubbed his forehead. "There were very dark moments in my life, too." He said after another moment of silence, then looked me in the eye. "I don't judge you."

"When I was in there and Dr Raines forced me to do all those SIMs, I realized just what I can do, what pretenders can do. It was the only thing that kept me sane: Knowing that I was powerful on some level."

"You certainly are powerful now." Jarod said hesitantly.

I looked at him and smiled for the first time: "And so are you."

There was a short silence during which Jarod buried his face in his hands. His next sentence was muffled by his hands: "I don't feel so powerful. I nearly lost my son today and I still have no idea how to make my parents and sister like my wife."
The urge to ruffle his hair and pat his back was as unexpected as it was inappropriate so I settled for brushing his shoulder with my fingers to make him look at me.

"I could tell you that everything is going to be okay, but of course I have no idea. Just appreciate what you have."

"You have nothing, don't you?" he asked suddenly and when I didn't answer, he straightened up again. "You have never been in my situation because you never allowed yourself to love someone. That's why they couldn't hurt you."

It was one of those rare moments when I really felt my age.

"I need to get going, Jarod. I have some business to attend to." I told him and rose from my seat. "Give your wife my very best wishes."

"You should drop by sometimes," Jarod told me honestly and I gave him a lopsided grin. "A known criminal? Over for dinner at your house? Think again."

And with that, I left the hospital.

Val Cornwall

I had always thought that if I ever woke up in an ICU, I would have no idea how I'd got there and what had happened, but when I opened my eyes I instantly remembered every detail. I turned my head to look at the comfortingly steady curve of my heartbeat on the monitor but regretted it at once since every movement of a muscle near my shoulder sent jolts of pain through my whole upper body. The air smelled of disinfectants and there was no natural light pouring into the cube that my bed was located in. The fluorescent lights flickered unnervingly and I had to take a deep breath in order to calm myself. The last time I had been inside an ICU-unit, I had been wearing green scrubs and a mask and I had stood by the side of a bed, my fingernails digging deeply into the flesh of my hand to prevent myself from crying. The man in the bed had looked nothing like my brother Michael who had always had a cheeky grin on his face. This was the face of a corpse and I had known without a doubt that he would not survive his injuries from the first moment I had seen him.

"Valerie?" The name was spoken softly by a very well known voice and despite the pain I turned my head towards the other side of my bed.

"Will." I croaked and he smiled sadly.

"Thank god you're okay." My brother looked relieved but, yet, a little worse for wear. His tie hung loosely around his neck, his shirt was crumpled and his hair looked flat, as if he had slept on it. He slid his hand across the covers and intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I am going to make that bastard's life hell," I whispered, unable to raise my voice above it.

"He's dead, Val." I was taken aback for a moment. "I killed him."

I stared at Will for a moment, took in the deep circles under his eyes and the haunted look inside them. Will had gone his whole life without ever having to shoot somebody. I knew for a fact that it had always been his worst fear that someday he might have to take a life in the course of duty.

"Will, Lyle was the worst bastard the world has ever seen. There is no one who will miss him. I can assure you."

I knew that my words wouldn't comfort him since he was bothered by the fact that he had taken a life at all, it didn't matter whose it was.

I squeezed his hand and grimaced. Not a good idea.

"I am so glad you are fine." Will said solemnly. "I couldn't imagine life without you."

Although we loved each other, we had never been the kind of siblings who assured each other of their love often if at all. Our relationship was dominated by witty banter and the occasional fight over his impossible wife, not warm words and hugs.

"I saw Miss Parker with her brother today. It was awful. They despised each other…" he trailed off and found his voice only a moment later. "Lyle was willing to let Parker's son die just because he wanted to hurt her. It seemed as if everything he did happened for the sole purpose of breaking her. That is why I shot him, really."

Will looked away for a few seconds, obviously unable to go on. He was such a good man. Always upfront and loyal. He always did his very best to ensure that justice was brought about and now he looked as if he had failed.

He finally gathered the courage to say what was on his mind: "I killed him because he was being so cruel to his sister, Val. He pushed her to the ground although she wasn't a threat to him. She had just given birth and was running a fever. There was no need for violence. And he laughed in her face when she begged him to help her save her son. I killed him because he hated his sister and he had always taken away mine."

I wanted to scream out and ask Will about Parker and the baby. She had already given birth? When? How much time had passed? And was the baby okay? But I knew that I had to wait, that I had to let him finish pouring his heart out to me. It was important. And I was his sister.

"That's why I shot him. He wouldn't have got far anyway. We had some uniforms dispatched, but I shot him anyway. I feel guilty, Val. I should have never allowed Miss Parker near him."

"You are too good for this world, Will." I said. "I understand what you're feeling, but I am sure you had your reasons."

He looked so stricken that my heart felt heavy inside my chest. "I am just so glad that we are different. I am so glad that I have a sister I love and who loves me."

I smiled back at him. "I will always have your back, brother."

He smiled, I smiled and for once there were no cocky lines or arguments.

Miss Parker

There was a soft knock at the hospital door then it opened without a sound and a Christine maneuvered herself through the small gap as if it was potentially hazardous to open the door any wider. A conspiratorial grin crossed her face as she tiptoed towards my bed.

"What is it, Christine?" I placed the book I had been reading back on the nightstand and folded my hands in my lap, cocking my eyebrow at her. "You're acting as if you were a burglar about to steal the silverware."

"It's the middle of the night," she explained. "I am here although visiting hours must have ended hours ago."

"There are no visiting hours, Christine. You are allowed to walk in here with your head held high for all it's worth."

Christine looked taken aback for a moment then shrugged. "Whatever. I am on a mission."

"A mission?"

She motioned for me to move over and sat on the bed next to me. "I brought something." Christine rummaged in her bag for a moment, then presented me with a silver pocket flask.

"Is that what I think it is?" I asked rhetorically.

"Gin!" She produced two plastic cups and a small bottle of tonic. "And tonic!" She added unnecessarily.

"Christine, I am on all kinds of medication," I calmly explained to her.

"Oh, come on, party pooper. One won't hurt." Christine was already pouring the drinks and handed me one. I hesitated at first then decided that I had earned it. I took a swallow and licked my lips afterward.

"Now that was easy," Christine grinned. "How's the little boy?"

"He is just fine. He still has to spend his nights in the incubator but he is improving daily."

"Uh-uh." Christine trailed off and avoided looking at me for a moment then finally seemed to gather the courage to address me. "You might already know what I am about to tell you…" she began.

"Well, I am not a medium and my enhanced sense is gone with the wind, so I have no idea." The gin and tonic tasted far too good.

Christine sat up straight and pulled at her elegant silk blouse. "Look, pal. You will feel betrayed by this. You really will, but I had my reason not to…"

"Spit it out already," I interrupted her, fed up with the procrastination.

"My weekend trip to Chicago…" she began and I wondered where that story was headed. "I went there my with my new man… you know…"

"The mystery man nobody is supposed to know anything about. Yes. I remember him."

Christine was fidgeting now and a sadistic part of me enjoyed to see that usually collected woman in that state.

"He and I… we went there to talk about our feelings and decided whether we wanted to take our relationship to the next level. Which we have decided we will." Despite her obvious nervousness a note of joy crept into her voice.

"Christine, I have really no idea why you'd think I would feel betrayed by this!" I said enthusiastically. "It is very much understandable that you will take things slow and only introduce the guy to your friends once you're sure it's serious!"
"Yeah," Christine turned to face me fully now and grabbed my hand. "Even if you know the guy?" She didn't leave me room to joke that I had told her a thousand times to keep her paws off my husband but blurted it out right away: "I'm in love with Sydney!"

I could only imagine that my eyes had widened and resembled saucers right now. "Sydney?" I downed my drink in one go and held the empty cup out to Christine whose hands, however, were shaking too much to refill it.

"Sydney? You're dating Sydney?"

It felt as if she had told me that she was dating my father. Uncomfortable memories of Brigitte and my real father returned and I gave a disgusted shudder that, unfortunately, Christine took as a sign of disapproval.

"Look, Parker, I..."

"Stop it already!" I interrupted her. "This feels very weird as Sydney is like a father to me. But it will be even weirder for Jarod whom he is also a father figure to… which is pretty weird in itself since we're married…" I decided to close my mouth to stop my repetitive rambling.

"I'm sorry. Congratulations…. How did that happen again?"

"I don't know. I sort of just did. We have been meeting up for coffee during those past months and then it was dinner and suddenly… there was this fuzzy feeling." Christine grinned serenely.

"Don't do that. I just had a baby and I am not grinning that stupidly!" I admonished her to which we both broke into good-natured snickering.

"Can I please be there when you tell Jarod that you're going to be his new mom?" I asked when we had recovered.

"Absolutely."

"Can I have more gin?"

"No," Christine said. "Now that you've recovered from the shock, I don't want you to mess with your health even more."

I pretended to sulk although, of course, I knew she was right.

"Can you leave me some for tomorrow?"

"What is tomorrow?" Christine asked.

"Jarod's parents are going to stop by to have a look at Charly."

"Oh, bugger." She practically threw the flask at me now. Good of her.

Will Cornwall

"Mrs Hanson is ready for you now, sir." The petite brunette nurse gave me a cautious smile and gestured towards the door to the day room. I nodded and pushed open the door to walk into the surprisingly cheerful room. Armchairs and couches in a floral design were scattered across the room whose walls were covered by bookcases in which rows of books were tidily arranged. Linda Hanson sat by one of the large windows overlooking the hospital garden. She turned around only when I softly placed my hand on her shoulder. She seemed a lot thinner then when I had last seen her and there was an air of frailty around her that reminded me of a very old woman.

"What is it?" Her voice was low and subdued, as if she hadn't been using it often lately.

"Mrs Hanson. How are you?" I sat across from her and, unsure of what to do with my hands, folded them over my left knee.

"Just peachy." Her smile was completely void of any positive emotion.

I wasn't sure how to break the news to her and I was fully aware of the fact that this was actually a psychologist's job. Still, I had selfishly demanded to be the one to tell her. Now I wasn't so sure. I reminded myself of why I was doing this. I had seen her helplessness and despair when I hadn't been able to help or find her son. I had been the one who had had to tell her that the bones we found were very likely to be her son's. I had told her that her son was dead and I had seen the spark of hope die in her eyes. Now I wanted to be the one to give her back her will to live.

"Mrs Hanson, we found your son."

A world of feelings suddenly opened up to my view in her previously hollow eyes.

"Donald…"

I grabbed her hand and held it between my hands as I said it as clearly as I could. "He is alive and well."

She gasped for air and for a moment I thought she would start to hyperventilate. Pain, joy and relief crossed her face in rapid succession. "Are… you sure?"

"Absolutely, Mrs Hanson."

Tears started spilling and she covered her face with her free hand. And as I sat, her shaking hand in mine, I realized that this wasn't just a successful criminal investigation. It was right. And although I had shot a man, had taken a life, this job what the right one for me.

Miss Parker

For the second time this week I was acting completely irresponsibly and for the second time this week I could not have given a damn. My ears hurt from the cold wind that blew across the graveyard. My face felt exposed with my hair up in a ponytail and I felt small and powerless in my black coat as I walked slowly towards the far end of the yard where the fresh graves were located. The sky was a pale blue and sunlight made the yellow leaves at the trees light up like fire. My feet seemed to drag across the grass and I had to force myself to set one foot in front of the other. Even though I had hated my brother, the death of my twin somehow made me aware of my own mortality. We had shared a womb and now he was dead and I stood at his grave. There were no flowers. He literally wasn't missed. I could have ended up exactly as he did, I suddenly thought. If things hadn't turned out the way they had, I might have had a few too many drinks. I might have got into my car to drive somewhere remote as I had often done and my car might have ended up wrapped around a tree by the road. Maybe my father would have made a huge affair out of my funeral but that wouldn't have changed the fact that I would have been forgotten quickly. Sure, Broots and Sydney had been my friends, but I had never really let anyone close enough to really care. Lyle's headstone was small and flat and although he had been buried just a day ago, after the autopsy had been finished, leaves had already blown over it. I kneeled down and placed both hands on the stone, carefully wiping them away. The stone said "Bobby" and did not give the details of his date of birth and death. I couldn't make sense of my own feelings that moment down on my knees on the cold ground. Why was I feeling so unbelievably sad? Because I hadn't come up with anything more meaningful on his headstone? Why would I mourn the man who had set out to destroy me and my family? Deep down, I knew why. Because once upon a time I had been quite like him. Because I could have been the one. It had been a coincidence that they had chosen to take him away and have him live with abusive parents. My father had been abusive in his own way, but I'd had the fortune to be my mother's daughter and live with her for a few years. Those years had saved my sanity. They had served to plant a seed of love inside me that had never vanished, no matter how bad the rest of my life had been. I thanked god for that coincidence, thanked him that I had received a second chance. That I had friends, children and a husband instead of lying in a grave like my brother. Dead and soon forgotten if not only remembered for cruelty and pain.

I slowly rose to my feet again and took a long last look at the grave. "I didn't lie." I whispered to the trees. "You are my brother and in another life I would have loved you very much. It's not our fault that I never had the chance to do so."

Go to hell, Lyle.

Rest in peace, brother.

Jarod

I could not deny that I was nervous when I popped my head round the door and checked whether Miss Parker was ready to greet our visitors. I gave her a painful smirk that my parents, while standing behind me, could not see and she smiled back openly.

"Come on in," she said and we followed her invitation, gathering around the hospital bed. Miss Parker looked much better than she had only yesterday. Some color had returned to her cheeks and her washed hair fell softly around her face.

My mother and father had filed in rather awkwardly and my mother hesitantly took the seat Miss Parker offered her with a nod.

"He is beautiful." My father said after a long while.

"Thank you." Miss Parker looked down at the baby in her arms and smiled again. "Don't you want to ask Emily to come in, too?"

An awkward silence followed which I finally broke. "How did you…?" I asked but she just shook her head, warning me not to go there. "Tell her to come in."

Though still unsure, I opened the door again and motioned for a somber-looking Emily to walk into the room.

"Hi," she said, avoiding Parker's gaze.

"Hello Emily." Parker swallowed and I was pretty sure that no one except me had noticed that this was difficult for her, because her tone was light and friendly. "Would you like to hold him?"

Emily nodded slowly and finally dared to look at Parker directly, just the hint of a smile in her eyes. "I would love too."

Miss Parker

The reception was held in the large ballroom of a local hotel and the clicking of glasses mixed with soft, bubbling laughter and low voices making small talk. The carpet swallowed the sound of my stiletto heels as I crossed the room to reach my husband who stood, dressed in a tuxedo, next to an important looking man, engrossed in a conversation that was no doubt made up of so many medical terms that I would not understand a word of it.

Before I could reach them, a heavy hand came to rest on my shoulder and when I turned around, Val stood there, dressed in a black suit, her gray hair in an interesting hair style reminiscent of Elvis.

"Well, hello there, Skinny. Isn't that a nice dress?" Val spoke quickly and sounded deliberately bored. "I totally think we have to act out of order. This is so bloody boring. I can hardly hold myself upright."

"Be nice, Val. This is my husband's big day."

"And mine! I invested a fortune." Christine had come out of nowhere, an uncomfortable-looking waiter in tow who dutifully offered us champagne. We all helped ourselves to flutes, then clicked them together.

"I bet you didn't invest as much in the research center as you invested in that dress." Val gestured towards the sparkly little number Christine was donning tonight. Christine didn't get a chance to reply as Dr Flanagan, almost unrecognizable with her hair up and wearing a black cocktail dress instead of scrubs, began to address the crowd.

"I would like to open this night of celebration and thank a few people who have made the opening of our new research center for prematurely born infants possible. I would like to thank our several investors and especially Dr. Jarod Russell who helped me research a new kind of growth hormone that will soon enable us to save children who would otherwise now stand a chance." Applause sounded from every corner of the room and momentarily interrupted her. "Please, everyone. Enjoy yourself and celebrate this day of hope with me!"

She raised her glass and toasted the crowd.

"Well, you look enchanting, darling." Jarod had approached us and smiled at me.

"Well thank you, Jarod." Val said sarcastically.

"Well, Jarod. Do you think you could forgive us if we…" Christine grabbed another glass from the waiter's tray. "…bailed?"

"Since your wife is such a devoted mommy, we didn't really have time to be drunken badasses lately. And for today you have a babysitter anyway." Val added ungraciously.

"Come on, girls!" I said from between gritted teeth. "It's his big night."

But Jarod just grinned and shook his head. "You go, girls. You deserve it."

"Word!" Val downed her glass and attracted unfavorable attention from an appalled woman next to her.

"Are you sure, Jarod?" I asked, my voice lowered.

"Sure. As soon as you're not too drunk to meet me in the bedroom later?" he winked at me.

"I think that could be arranged…"

Val grabbed one of my arms as Christine grabbed the other.

"It's cocktails now." Christine announced.

"Can't we go for a decent beer for once?" Val growled.

"You're outnumbered," I said.

"I always am."

As Val hailed a cab in front of the hotel and started giving the driver directions, I waited for Christine to arrange herself in the backseat before I could climb in. I took a deep breath of the spicy air of a summer air and decided that I was blessed. It took a lot of work to turn a life around and right the wrongs, but in the end it always paid off. I found myself smiling so widely that my cheeks hurt. My happy musings were interrupted by Val's unnecessarily loud voice, addressing both the driver and me.

"Yeah, the village idiot wants to come along to. Stop grinning and get your butt in the car, Skinny, we're leaving for a pub!"

"Cocktail bar!" Christine shrieked from the backseat in protest.

And I decided that wherever they'd take me, I was the happiest I'd ever been.

The End