Part Five

Jarod

It was well past eleven when I crept into our bedroom and tiptoed into the bathroom past my sleeping wife. I quickly discarded my clothing and put it into a bag that I would hide behind my suits in my wardrobe back in the bedroom. I put on my pajamas, washed my face, brushed my teeth and then exited the bathroom. After getting rid of the bag, I stepped back onto the landing and carefully opened the door to my daughter’s bedroom. She was fast asleep with the nightlight radiating a comforting, warm glow from next to the door. Samantha had pulled her covers up to her nose and was sleeping with a huge toy bunny cuddled to her chest. I sat down at her bedside and stroked her cheek while I listened to her deep, even breathing. There was a book on the bedside table that we had taken turns reading to her. They had almost reached the end of it. When had that happened? The last time I had read it to her, it had only been twenty pages into the book.

I watched my daughter sleep for another moment, then kissed her cheek and left her room again. Being with her, I always felt so peaceful and I wondered how I could ever have lived without her. The first moment she had been put into my arms, I had looked into her little then scarlet face and had felt such a rush of love that it had almost knocked me off my feet.

I returned to our bedroom and slid into bed next to Parker who hadn’t moved since I had left. I couldn’t see her face since it was half buried in the pillow- her favorite sleeping-position. She, too, had pulled her covers up high so that all I could see of her was her hair.

I gently touched her shoulder through the fabric and pulled her towards me. Feeling her warmth through the covers, I simply enjoyed her scent.

The day had been rough and I felt very guilty for standing Parker up at her doctor’s. Truth was, I had just forgotten and only remembered when I’d come home a few minutes ago. I also felt guilty about not confessing to her what I had done, but she seemed so out of sorts lately that I didn’t dare tell her now. I had promised her to take care of her during her pregnancy and I wouldn’t subject her or the baby to danger by confronting her with the truth.

I felt as if I had just fallen asleep when my alarm went off. Sleepily blinking into the dim sunlight that filtered in through the curtains, I instantly discovered that I was alone.

Christine

“Are you sure you should be doing this, pal?” I asked Parker, eyeing her with some concern as she went through her stretching routine. She looked up and glared at me through a couple of strands of hair that had fallen out of the strict bun I only ever saw her wearing when we were running together.

“Am I missing a leg or what other unfortunate event am I owing your misplaced question to?” I raised an eyebrow at her snappy tone. She had been a bit edgy all morning, but now I was sure that something must indeed be wrong.

“So someone pissed you off and my well-meant concern for the well-being of both yourself and your offspring seems a fit reason to use me as an convenient outlet?” I asked, matter-of-factly while we fell into a comfortable jog besides each other.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered and I shrugged. “Darling, I am well acquainted with both your temper and with being pissed-off in general. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I am not. I am pretty used to pissing people off, so I don’t meant being sulked at,” she replied, but I could hear from her tone of voice that her mood had already lightened.

I waited until we had found a rhythm, then grinned at her from sideways.

“Are you going to tell me anytime? About who caused you to be all bitchy on our run together?”

We did this three times a week, usually very early in the morning, so I was used to her being bitchy. She was not a morning person. Well, actually she had really improved because when I’d first met her, she hadn’t been a noon-, afternoon- or evening-person either. Maybe that was what had first made me like her. I feel mysteriously drawn to people with an attitude.

“You got me,” she sighed, but did not elaborate until we were back at the point we had started from: The bench we had first met. I collapsed onto it first since one of us being in a bad mood usually resulted in a certain increase of speed. I watched her stretch again while I was content with just laying back on the bench and stretching my arms aimlessly.

“I had a prenatal exam yesterday,” she finally explained and brushed the stray strands of hair from her face. She hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat. I was probably getting old- which might have been the reason my moron of an ex-husband had set off to new shores, the bastard.

“So are you going to be this mean-tempered every time you’ll visit your doctor?”

She finally sat down next to me and stretched her legs out, leaning back against the back of the bench.

“Jarod promised me to meet me there and he didn’t show up.”

“Jarod?!” I asked, surprised. He was the embodiment of a perfect husband which was sometimes almost sickening. I couldn’t even imagine him doing something that must seem as outrageous to him as missing one of his wife's doctor’s appointments.

“I called him three times and he didn’t even get back to me.”

Now that sounded even less than Jarod. It was usually him who kept calling his wife. Sometimes he was so persistent that she had to excuse herself from meetings thinking it must be an emergency but then he only wanted to tell her something he found hilarious. He was also one for text messages that he kept sending his wife between appointments. It was really sweet but also quite cheesy.

“Did he come home? Is he probably floating face down in a river?” I asked, pulling at my sweater. Despite the fact that we went running often, I still felt uncomfortable in clothing as casual as this.

“Yeah, but really late so I was already asleep.”

“What about this morning?” Parker had told me that her husband was usually up and about at half past five, singing in the shower and opening windows wide to inhale the morning air- even if temperatures were below zero.

“I don’t know what exhausting activity he engaged in last night, but he was still fast asleep when I left to meet you.” There was a sarcastic tone in her voice that I instantly recognized from several meetings that my ex-husband and I had been accompanied to by divorce lawyers.

“Oh, stop it, Parker!” I scolded her. “You are not actually implying that he has an affair, are you?”

She avoided eye-contact and took a gulp from her water-bottle, so I settled for just looking at her incredulously. She held the silence for a while, then finally met my eyes and I was surprised how sad she looked. I would have expected outrage on her part upon finding out that her husband was cheating, but she just looked tired.

“You know I...” she cleared her throat. “I was expecting it to happen someday. It’s just bad timing.”

“You expected it to happen?! On what grounds? He is the sweetest...”

She held up a hand. “I know he is. I am not blaming him, you know.”

“Then who? The other woman? Come on.”

She gave me a pointed look since I had been rambling on about my ex's new girlfriends at length. Okay, I was a hypocrite. Deal.

“I am not blaming anyone, Christine.”

“But you should be.” I found myself saying despite the fact that I found the idea of Jarod having an affair bewildering to say the least. “If he really has an affair, you have every right to blame him!”

She rose from her seating position and began to walk briskly towards the car park. I followed her and shook my head in the process. “What’s the matter with you?”

She was not only acting strangely, but I had no idea what she was about just now. She finally faced me again and I found a hard determination in her eyes.

“I always knew that someday he would have to look for what he ’t have in me in another woman.”

“Excuse me? What would he want? More beauty? More intelligence? Someone more funny? Hard to find.” I shook my head. Maybe hormones had taken over and she had lost her mind. Like that one time during my pregnancy (back in the middle ages) when I had suddenly been convinced that my sister was trying to kill me. It had turned out that she had simply been planning a birthday surprise. At least that explained the hiding behind the couch.

“It’s not that. Maybe you’re the wrong person to talk to.”

Tell your best friend anything along those lines and she’ll be sure to hate you, believe me.

“Maybe you should stop rambling on about nonsense and get a grip, Parker!” I snapped at her. She seemed to notice what she had just said and placed her hand on my upper arm to calm me.

“I am sorry. I came out the wrong way. I meant that we are a lot like each other and maybe you see right through me, but I am not particularly warm.”

I wasn’t any wiser than just a minute ago and shrugged. “Go on, sphinx. I enjoy your talking in riddles.”

“It is probably just the way I was brought up. I am just afraid that Jarod has always been looking for someone more...” She paused and seemed to wonder what it was that she was going to say. Her childhood was nothing she ever talked about and - honestly - I didn’t even know whether she had siblings. The only thing I had gathered from the few nebulous things she had mentioned was that her mother had died early.

“... someone more giving.”

She looked so sad that I had the motherly urge to put my arms around her and squeeze her hard. Weird enough, since motherly urges weren’t quite my thing normally.

“Is that what you think? That you’re not enough?” I asked instead.

“Stop it,” she hissed, then added more softly. “It sounds as if I thought I wasn’t good enough for him if you put it like that.”

I decided to give her something to chew on. Miss Parker wasn’t someone who could be convinced by words if she had set her mind on something, so I usually had to orchestrate quite a show.

“It is exactly like that. You will just have to find out whether you’re right or wrong.”

With these harsh words spoken, I walked towards my car without turning back.

Jarod

Sammy ran back into the house ahead of me, completely overjoyed because I had finally given in and bought her the teddy bear she had been admiring in the window of the small toyshop in town for weeks.

“Careful, honey!” I warned her, when she dashed down the hallway, cradling the toy to her chest. Her pigtails bounced up and down as she did a quick survey of the kitchen in order to find her mother. I had taken Sammy out to go grocery shopping while Parker had still been out so I still hadn’t seen her yet.

She obviously wasn’t in the kitchen, so Sammy stormed off into the living-room. I lingered back and began to put the groceries into the fridge and cupboards. Miss Parker would either be extremely pissed off or very disappointed because of my having been a no-show yesterday and I couldn’t decide which I dreaded more.

I had pondered whether she would rather be pacified by her favorite white or red wine for minutes until I had remembered that she surely wouldn’t drink since she was pregnant.

I had tried calling her, but she had not taken her blackberry with her and when I tried again, the familiar ring tone sounded from the kitchen counter where she had obviously left it. I snapped my cell phone shut and sighed. Where was she?

There was a shriek from the upper floor and I bolted instantly. My old instincts were still very much in place and when it came to the welfare of my family, I was even more alert than I had been back in the days. I took the stairs two at a time and arrived on the landing to be faced with Sammy who was staring at Parker with big worried eyes.

“Daddy,” she simply said as she caught sight of me. Parker was wearing a patted robe and wet strands of hair were clinging to her exceptionally pale face as she exited the bathroom.

“Oh my, I look so horrible that I scare my little girl,” Parker sighed and automatically stroked Sammy’s hair who had wrapped her arms around her mother’s middle in a comforting gesture.

“Sorry, Mommy. I just thought you were ill,” Sammy apologized, her voice muffled since she had pressed her cheek into the material of the robe.

“Don’t apologize, honey. I do look scary without make-up.” Parker closed her eyes for a moment, unseen by our daughter and allowed the stress she must be under to show clearly on her face. I had recognized that something must be wrong before, however. It was almost scary how well we knew each other and keeping things from the other was more than just difficult. Feeling like an observer rather than the part of this family that I was, I stepped towards them, when Sammy’s next words stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Are you sick because of the baby?”

For the first time, Parker’s eyes met mine and I could see both confusion and discomfort in them as we had figured out that Sammy must have been referring to a little brother in general that day at school. We had believed that she had talked about some time in the future and didn’t actually know about Parker’s pregnancy. Obviously, we had been proved wrong.

Parker took one step back and crouched down to eye-level with our daughter who looked worried now that she had realized she had said something to upset her mother.

“You’re right. It is called morning sickness.”

“It is almost noon,” Sammy said and frowned in concern.

“Yes, I guess that’s just the name. It can occur any time of the day.” Parker took a deep breath and placed one of her hands against the floorboard to steady herself. “And it does.” She had nearly choked on the last three words and got up to run into the bathroom, banging the door behind her.

Sammy turned around to look at me and shook her head. “You should make her some tea. The one you made for me when I had the flu last year.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling in concentration, then shrugged. “We didn’t buy crackers. We should have bought crackers.”

Despite the pity I felt for Parker having to endure pregnancy symptoms, I couldn’t help but smile. I opened my arms for Sammy and she nestled inside, letting me carry her downstairs. She was actually too old for this and was getting tall for her age, but in moments like this I liked to have my little girl in my arms.

Downstairs I placed her on the kitchen counter and she giggled with delight. While the water began to boil in the kettle, I turned towards her.

“You are going to have a little brother or sister, you know.” The realization that I might have already known which if I hadn’t forgotten the appointment stung for a moment.

“Brother. I am going to have a little brother!” she announced, beaming. The smile on her face was completely open and genuine and I still couldn’t figure out how she could possibly know.

We were interrupted by Parker who had brushed her wet hair back and changed into a cotton sweater and sweat-pants. She still looked pale but not as uncomfortable anymore.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked her, not yet daring to put my arms around her, as she might still be angry with me. Right now, however, she seemed too tired for that.

“Yes. I went running with Christine this morning and I guess he doesn’t like it.”

She rubbed her stomach lightly as to indicate who the “he” was, that she was referring to. I looked at Sammy who was dangling her legs, watching the steam pour out of the kettle.

“Are you implying that we are having a little boy?” I asked, my heart thundering with both happiness and shock that Sammy had been right about the baby’s gender. Miss Parker gave a happy smile and nodded. “Don’t even ask. We will not call him Dexter.”

She would never stop teasing me about the fact that I had purchased the whole cartoon series “Dexter’s Laboratory” on DVD, would she? I wrapped my arms around her, the missed appointment temporarily forgotten, and cradled her head in my hand. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind and I held her by the shoulders, gently making her look at me.

“Is everything alright? You were so worried...”

“Dr Summers said he was strong and healthy. I can show you the sonogram picture later.”

“Mommy!” Sammy exclaimed and opened her arms wide. “Come here.”

Miss Parker gave a mock salute and walked towards her, hugging her, too.

“You must be careful, Mommy,” she said, her face more serious than I had ever seen it. “So he won’t die like the other one.”

Miss Parker gave a low whimper and I suddenly felt sick myself which could hardly be appointed to pregnancy, obviously. I could see in my wife’s face that she was trying very hard not to lose her composure in front of our daughter.

“I’ll be very careful,” she said in a voice that sounded like a child’s. She cleared her throat, which resulted in her sounding a bit more like herself. “Why don’t you go and get that teddy bear Daddy bought you today? I’d like to have a good look at him.”

Sammy nodded, somewhat unaware of her mother’s predicament and dropped a kiss on Parker’s cheek when she lifted her off the counter.

As soon as Sammy had left the room, I closed the distance between me and my wife and pulled her close to me before her legs could buckle.

“How can she know?” she whispered into my shirt front, but I still understood since it was the exact same question that was swirling inside my own mind right now.

“I don’t know...” I began, but she interrupted me: “Sydney wouldn’t have told her. He’d know that she would be scared and he’d know that I don’t want anyone to talk about it.”

I kept holding her for another moment, trying to reassure her by the mere sensation of our bodies blending into each other like one.

“I am going to talk to her,” I told her, kissing her temple and stroking her back soothingly.

“Why don’t you go and rest for a bit?”

“I don’t think so. I think I’m rather going to be sick,” she slurred, already halfway out the door.

Miss Parker

I was on my back, one arm behind my head staring at the ceiling. The nausea had finally subsided and what remained was a kind of numb feeling. Jarod had been talking to Samantha, trying to find out how she had heard about my miscarriage and how she could know I was carrying a little boy. Her response had been a secretive smile and a shrug. He had tried to coax it out of her and finally she had told him she just knew. Nobody had told her. She just knew. He had been frustrated since he knew a hundred techniques to extract information from a person, only that he would never even use a single one on his beloved daughter- for which I was glad.

There was a soft knock at the door and Jarod peeked around the corner, carrying a tray.

“Hey there, how are you feeling?”

I propped myself up on my elbows and watched him approach me. “Better.”

“I brought you something to eat. You must be hungry.”

I felt nausea well up again and swallowed dryly, then addressed my husband in a strained, yet commanding voice: “Take that tray out of here.”

He knew better than to disobey and disappeared into the hallway again. When he reentered the bedroom a moment later, it was sans the tray. Thank god.

“I know you mean well, but I am a bit sick of being sick.”

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically and slid on the bed next to me. He had mostly abandoned the leather jackets and black jeans when we had moved here and although I loved the way light brown and beige brought out the color of his eyes, I sometimes missed the rough charm that attire had given him. There was no creak of leather when he rolled on his side and kissed me gently in the corner of my mouth. His kiss felt good and eternally comforting. I turned to face him and brushed a strand of hair from his face.

“I am so sorry about yesterday,” he said and I felt pain tug at my heart again. Had Christine been right? Was I completely nuts because I as much as considered this caring man who had often declared me and Sammy the sole purpose of his life able to have an affair? The problem was that I knew he was keeping something from me. Had I worked more on my sense lately, I would have probably been able to tell what it was.

“What kept you?” I asked, hoping that he would assume my placidness about the matter was due to my exhaustion.

He gave a nervous little laugh and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it in the process. “I was so busy with paperwork that I forgot the time. And then I fell asleep at my desk, stupid me.”

“That‘s why you didn’t answer your phone?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t very exciting anyway.” I smiled up at him and brushed his lips with mine again, glad that he hadn’t been there for Dr Summer’s little speech about my lack of self-preservation.

“Next time I’ll be there,” he promised, after which I couldn’t help but tease him with just a hint of seriousness in my voice: “Don’t get my hopes up.”

He kissed me back, resting his hand on my stomach.

“Only a few weeks and you’ll be showing,” he said wondrously and I was reminded how he had missed nearly half of my first pregnancy, which made him eager to be there for it this time. Well, not eager enough not to miss prenatal exams.

“Don’t remind me,” I snapped at him, putting up the act for fear he would find out that I still didn’t believe him. If anyone had ever seen Jarod’s desk they knew that their was no way to fall asleep on it without setting a pile of files off. I knew the deal from Val’s desk. Last time she had fallen asleep - a glorious hangover being the reason - she had caused a landslide of paper to rush towards the floor and I had discovered her swearing and crawling over the floor to pick things up again.

“You’ll be so beautiful,” he mockingly gushed and I rolled my eyes.

“Crazy,” I said and ruffled his hair just because I so liked doing it. Especially since nowadays he went for a more natural hairstyle that required less styling gel that would have stuck to my fingers otherwise.

He caught my hand and put it against his chest, probably fully intending to have it wander downwards later.

“Do you think you are too tired to fulfill your marital duties?” He winked and I shook my head, grinning.

“I could probably use a bit of persuasion.” And a diversion from the questions concerning my daughter.

“I think that could be done,” Jarod said and swiftly moved towards me, gently making me lay back on the bed while he moved one leg over mine and began to kiss my neck.

A few minutes later, when we had just managed to rid ourselves of most of our clothes, my phone began to ring.

“Just leave it,” he whispered and tried to kiss me again.

“Wait.” I had recognized the number on the screen. Val’s office number- on a Sunday evening?

“I think I have to get that. It’s work,” I told him and he pulled a face and wrapped his arm around my bare middle when I answered.

“Parker,” Val’s voice was grave but I would have known from the fact alone that she addressed me by my name instead of “Skinny” that something must be wrong. “I need you here. Donald is dead.”

TBC