Disclaimer: I don't own
"The Pretender" or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Orinana
"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and
comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing."
-Katherine Mansfield
~~~~~~~~~
Paper Snowflakes
part VII
by
Orinana
Jarod parked the car,
and all three got out, a grim lot—not one of the three was smiling. They'd
arrived four hours earlier here in Bloomfield, and promptly called Sam's aunt
to inform her of their location. She'd been quite relieved, and promised to be
there in just over four hours. They'd agreed, promising to be waiting in the
small town's only park, at a picnic table.
After the phone call,
they'd walked up and down the cobblestone shopping area of town. No one had
spoken of the inevitable, though the situation was without question having a
greater impact on Parker and Jarod than little Sam. It would've been easy,
maybe even fun, to pretend that all was well for a few hours, if it hadn't been
for all the people coming up to Jarod, or more often Miss Parker, and remark on
how "adorable their child was" or "what a picturesque
family" they made. Near the end, Parker was so annoyed Jarod had to
supress a smile--probably the first time during this entire excursion she'd had
the desire to strangle someone (other than himself, of course).
The main
accomplishment of their walk was a stop in the local Toys 'R' Us, to pick up
some dolls for Samantha's dollhouse. Parker pointed out that they couldn't be
outdone by Santa.
As their time wore
down, however, even Sam's excitement over her new dolls faded away. Parker
chastised herself for allowing the girl to grow so fond of her--she'd known it
was going to be a tough goodbye. Jarod offered to stop off at McDonald's to get
her a Happy Meal, but the little girl had insisted that she wasn't hungry. He
couldn't really blame her, he was feeling just as rotten.
"I have to go
somewhere," Parker spoke up suddenly. Jarod looked up at her
questioningly--she was trusting that they wouldn't just leave? "I'll be
back in a few minutes." He nodded, and she walked off.
Just as she was out
of their sight, Sam asked him, "Jarod, what about you and Miss
Parker?"
He was surprised at
the genuine concern in her voice. "What do you mean?" You know
perfectly well what she meant, retorted that voice in his mind. Quiet, you.
"Well," she
started guiltily, "I guess you didn't notice but...I, sort of, um, tried
to get the two of you..."
He smiled as
realization struck him. "You've been trying to set us up, haven't
you?"
"Well, uh, yeah,
sorta," she admitted weakly. "You mad?"
Unable to hold it in
anymore, he burst out laughing. "The sleeping arrangement that one night,
and everything else--that was you, wasn't it?" She nodded, and seeing that
he wasn't upset, puffed up somewhat with pride, making him laugh even more.
"Oh, man, am I going to miss you." Instantly, her smile deflated and
her shoulders sagged, and Sam looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.
"This
sucks," she decided.
"Yeah, buddy, I
know. But hey, at least we had this long together. And look at the bright
side--no more cooking by Miss Parker." They both grinned at that, and
though neither was quite in the mood for more laughter, the tension wasn't as
thick.
Samantha's eye was
caught by something behind Jarod, and when he turned to look, he saw Parker.
She was in the parking lot, next to his car, leaning on the hood of a new black
Ford Taurus. She gestured for them to come over, and they did.
Jarod looked from one
car to the other, once, then again, knowing something but not quite sure just
what it was that he knew. "Parker, what's--"
"It's my
rental," she interrupted him. "I told them my other was dead and gone
somewhere up in the middle of nowhere, and that they'd better get a tow out
there before another snowstorm buries it 'til spring. It's another branch of
the same rental place, so let them deal with it."
"But what
about--"
"Your car?"
she again interrupted him. "I figured you'd need a way to get out of this
town eventually." His eyes widened slightly. So he's starting to get it,
she thought. "Sam, why don't you go get your dolls, okay?"
"Sure." She
skipped off towards the picnic table, and Parker tugged Jarod towards the back
of the car.
"Parker...I don't
understand."
She raised an
eyebrow. "Oh, I think you do. It's probably just that this is so unlike
me, it makes your head hurt to think of it." He laughed, while she popped
the trunk of his car and took out her things. Parker placed them on the ground
next to her own new rental, opened that trunk, and loaded them. "There.
That should make it about as clear as possible."
Jarod didn't say a
word. This was a major action for someone like her.
"Jarod, I'm not
taking you back." There, she'd said it. "After all that's happened, I
figure I owe ya one." Parker made it sound so simplistic, as if it were no
big deal. She didn't bother to explain either, but it wasn't necessary--one of
the strongest points of this connection they'd shared since children is that
they knew what the other was thinking, feeling. Words at times seemed more
bothersome than helpful. She moved up to the front of the car, opened the door,
and reached in and honked the horn. When Sam turned her head from where she'd
been playing, Parker motioned for her to come over. Sam came running.
"Listen, kid,
it's time for me to go." Sam's eyes immediately began to water.
"Don't worry--it's not like it's forever, and besides, I'll make sure
Jarod gives me your address. I promise I'll write." The first tear slid
down the girl's face. "Now give me a hug." Sniffling, Sam did as she
was told, throwing both arms around the woman's neck when Parker knelt down.
Jarod stood quietly
by. Goodbyes were as sensitive a matter to Parker as they were to him. The difference,
however, was that he treasured them, since he'd never gotten the chance to
exchange them with his family as a child. Parker, however, dreaded them, and
had learned to make them as short as possible, to avoid too much pain.
"I'll miss
you," Sam managed through a choked-up voice.
With a quivering
sigh, Parker whispered into Sam's hair, "I'll miss you, too."
Finally, when her own eyes threatened tears, Parker stood. "Be brave,
okay?" Sam nodded, sticking her chin out resolutely, then turned and walked
back to where her dolls lie on the picnic table.
Now came the hard
part.
Parker turned to
where Jarod stood. How do you say goodbye to someone in a situation like this?
Here was a man she had, in her lifetime, befriended, kissed, hunted. A
handshake seemed almost rudely informal, a hug far to intimate.
In the end, she opted
to do nothing. Merely got into her car and started the ignition, then looked
up. "Goodbye, Jarod. Have a happy new year."
"You too."
He'd barely caught her words. A sight had caught his eye, taking him off
guard--on her neck was the necklace, with the small angel dangling in the exact
spot he'd picture it at those few months ago. She was wearing it, actually
wearing it. "Goodbye, Parker."
She smiled, that one
heartwarming smile he remembered so well from their childhood, then slid a pair
of sunglasses over her eyes and released the break. As she pulled out, Jarod
made his way back over to Sam. The sound of a horn honking made them both turn
their heads. On the road, Parker waved her hand out the open window, then drew
back in the car and rolled up the window. As she drove off, they stood in the
remaining snow, waving goodbye.
~~~~~~~~~
"Now this is a
great one," Broots said, his eyes focused on the book before him. With a
groan, Sydney set down the newspaper he'd been reading.
"Broots, I know
Debbie was the one to give you that book, and I think it's wonderful that there
are so many great people quoted in there--" He leaned forward across the
desk to give emphasis to his words. "--but if you read just one more, I
swear to god I will--"
"Hard at work,
eh, boys?" a distinctly female voice cut him off. Broots straightened, and
set the book to one side, Syd was grateful to note.
Parker moved towards
the desk, dressed in a short skirt and high heels as always. It was Monday, and
though just yesterday she'd said goodbye to two very important people, it was
back to work. She smiled at Syd's thankful face, and was about to make a
smart-ass remark when an irritating, all-too-recognizable voice from behind
stopped her.
"This is a joke,
right?" Rolling her eyes, Parker turned to face her brother.
"What now,
Lyle?" He waved a sheet of paper -something she'd sent in about a week
previous to her vacation- in her face, but quickly stopped when the expression
on her face changed to a dangerously poisonous glare.
"You actually
have the gall to ask the higher-ups that more of the work be put on my
shoulders so you can concentrate on the search for Jarod?"
"Jarod is my
work, you half-wit," she snapped. Where he sat, Broots' eyes widened as
his eyes back and forth, back and forth, between the page in front of him, and
Miss Parker.
"I'm going to
fight this," he insisted.
"Whatever,"
she replied, rolling her eyes. "It's Monday morning, and I haven't even
had any coffee yet. Frankly, Lyle, I don't give a damn." With an irritated
huff, Lyle stomped off. Parker just laughed. "Can you believe that?"
"If it
helps," Syd remarked earnestly, "I think you've been a wonderful job
since arriving here. Considering the mind power you're up against, I'd say
you've been more than successful here at the Centre." Broots' eyes somehow
managed to widen even more, and a sort of small squeak escaped his mouth, but
Parker missed it. She walked out, in search of hot coffee.
The interesting shade
of red that his face had turned finally caught Syd's attention. "Broots,
breath."
The balding man let
out a hesitant puff of air, but his eyes didn't move from the book.
"Oh, all
right," Syd gave up, "read me the damn quote."
Broots cleared his
throat, and said meekly, "It was the Sister Mary Lauretta who said, 'To be
successful, the first thing to do is fall in love with your work.' " He
finally looked up at the older man. "But that's just a coincidence, right?
A really freaky coincidence? I mean, you don't think..." Syd allowed a
knowing smile to spread on his lips. Broots gasped. "You're
kidding?!"
"I've suspected
since they were children, to tell you the truth, but there's no actual proof."
"B-but do you
think either one know? Miss Parker? Jarod?"
"I hope so,
Broots," Sydney admitted. "For their sakes, I certainly hope
so."
~~~~~~~~~~
Exhausted, Parker got
home that night a few minutes past nine. By 9:30 she was eagerly climbing into
bed--it didn't take long for sleep to take over her weary body. Slowly, she
fell into a dream...
"Jarod!" a
young brunette whispered down the dark air shaft. At her call, the small
pretender appeared out of the shadows.
"Right here,
Miss Parker," he replied, his voice showing his eagerness.
"Ready?"
"Well,
yeah," she said hesitantly, "but how're we gonna get past the outdoor
security?"
"Have you
forgotten who you're with?" he smiled. "Just follow me."
A few minutes later,
they were gone, beyond the reach of the Centre's cameras. It was near midnight,
and snow had begun to fall gently. Jarod had been the one to sneak them away,
but Miss Parker was the one leading now, guiding him to a choice clearing with
untouched snow. It was the last of Christmas day, and they'd decided to come
out here to celebrate. Although Jarod was ecstatic to be outside the stronghold
of the Centre, it was her that was more excited--Mrs. Parker had gone to care
for a sick friend, and her father was as ignorant of her as always. She was
getting lonely.
"Now what?"
Jarod asked in confusion, looking around.
"We play,"
Miss Parker grinned, grabbing a handful of powder in her mittened hand and
throwing it at him. He retaliated eagerly, and soon they were chasing each
other, shrieking and laughing, appearing for the moment like a couple of normal
children. Nearly an hour later, they'd built a snowman.
"He looks
cold," Miss Parker noted with concern. She unwrapped her scarf, then wound
it around the snowman's neck. A thought came to her, and she turned to Jarod.
"Have you ever made a snow angel before?"
"No."
Her eyes lit up.
"Oooh, we have to do that next, then. Here, watch me." She fell down
in the snow and carefully began to brush her arms and legs back and forth,
Jarod copying every movement. Both began to giggle as snow snuck under their
clothes and tickled the back of their necks.
After finishing,
Jarod suddenly realized, "We've been out here a long time."
"Oh no! We have
to get you back." Impatiently she began to pull an unwilling Jarod in the
direction of the Centre. Daddy had told her what happend to people that left
when they weren't supposed to, and she didn't want any of those bad things to
happen to Jarod.
Back at the Centre,
they stopped next to a wall, where the air vent lie open. Miss Parker
whispered, "Merry Christmas," then moved to head off.
"Oh, wait!"
Jarod called at the last moment.
She turned back
around. "What?"
He looked sheepishly
at the ground. "Come with your dad tomorrow, okay? There's something I
wanna give you."
"Sure."
Then, on a spur-of-the-moment decision, she gave him a quick hug, then ran off.
~~~~~~~~~
"It is the
friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter."
-Marlene Dietrich
The dream of that old
memory faded away, as a continuous, annoying sound dragged Parker from her
sleep. Snatching her cell phone from the bedside table, she ducked back under
the covers with it, and snapped, "What!"
"My, but you're
chipper this morning."
"Morning?"
she echoed vaguely.
"Well,
technically. It's about 4:30."
Parker groaned.
"I promise to remember this the next time we meet."
Jarod laughed.
"I bet you will. Well, in an odd sort of way, it's kinda comforting to
know that the chase continues. Anyhow, I've given you your wake-up call, so
I'll be going." Without another word, he hung up.
Perplexed, she
deactivated her phone. He usually didn't wait until morning to call.
"Whatever," she sighed, pulling back the covers. She was up now.
After she put the
phone back on the table, she sat up, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. But
soon she realized that it wasn't as dark as it should have been--a slight glow
came from her bedroom door. Her open bedroom door.
"I could've
sworn I closed that last night," she muttered, standing up.
After slipping on a
silk bathrobe, she walked into the living room, where she was met with a big
surprise. Outlining the ceiling, walls and doorways were hundreds of tiny white
Christmas lights. On the coffee tables, on both sides of the front door,
everywhere sat dozens of white candles, burning and filling the air with the
scent of vanilla. And, in one corner, next to the window, stood a Christmas
tree, beautifully decorated with blinking white and blue lights, and topped with
an angel. Under the tree lie two packages.
Taking in the amazing
decorating job that Jarod had done -there was no question this was his work-
she moved slowly to the tree. Noticing an envelope in the porcelein hands of
the angel, she reached up and gently pulled it loose. After pausing to sniff
the fresh pine tree (she'd never bothered with live trees since Mom had died)
she sat on the couch and opened the envelope, the lights and candles offering
enough
illumination for her to clearly read the one line that explained it all:
"You deserved a real Christmas."
After a few minutes
of simply looking around her, Parker's curiousity finally got the best of her,
and she walked over to the tree and sat down on the floor. There were two
packages, one a large square box in red foil wrapping paper with thick silver
ribbon, and the other a flatter rectangle box with the same ribbon, but green
foil. NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL AFTER THE SHOW, was written on the gift tag of the
green box.
"What
show?" she murmured, putting the rectangle box aside and reaching for the
larger red one. Feeling the eagerness of a child opening her first gift on
Christmas morning, Parker ripped off the paper and flung open the cardboard
flaps, then impatiently dug past the few layers of green tissue paper.
After examining the
contents of the package, and taking about five minutes to fully realize what he
had given her, Miss Parker got her cordless phone and dialed Syd's Centre
voicemail, knowing that it was only 5:00, and that he wouldn't receive her
message for a few hours still.
When prompted by the
computerized voice, she gave her message. "Syd, it's me. Listen, I'm going
to be gone for a few days. I'm taking a little...trip. I'm not leaving my
number -knowing my luck, Lyle'd get ahold of it- so anything important will
have to wait until I get back Sunday morning. Happy new year, Syd. See ya
soon." Putting the phone back, she hurried back to her bedroom. She only
had about an hour to spare for showering and packing before she had to leave.
~~~~~~~~~
Parker awoke from her
catnap, and glanced down at her watch. About half an hour until they landed.
Smiling, she reached under her seat for the same square package, and began to
sift through the contents: a brand new, handheld digital video camera; a
roundtrip first class plane ticket; tickets to theaters and museum exhibitions;
and two pieces of paper, one giving the information of her reservation (suite
6) and the other a poster detailing a major event.
>From underneath
all of this, she withdrew a book, "A Millenium Guide To Paris."
~~~~~~~~~
December 31, 1999.
11:57. One of the most unforgettable moments of her life, without question.
Here she was, just a few hundred feet from the Eiffel Tower, about to join well
over a million people in ringing in the French new year. The air was thick with
anticipation as the seconds ticked away, voices all around her laughing and
calling out as the moment approached. This would go down in history, and she
was here to experience it, thanks to Jarod.
Unaware of it, the
camera in her hand activated.
And the moment came.
Above the deafening crowd of cheering celebrators, the Eiffel Tower lit up,
hundreds of lights and fireworks creating an unimaginably beautiful sight. Away
from the careful Centre eye, Miss Parker was completely relaxed, just one of
millions of people in Paris smiling, laughing, cheering, throwing confetti and
streamers.
A pleased laugh,
familiar to her, caught Parker's attention, and she looked about her, but
didn't see Jarod among the ocean of people still cheering on the continuing
fireworks of the Eiffel Tower. Finally, she realized that it seemed to be
coming from down below, and only when she looked down at the camera in her hand
did she understand. Jarod had souped up the camera, and probably had it linked
up to a satellite, so that whatever his camera was shooting was directed to her
viewing screen, while whatever her camera shot was sent to his.
Just under 250 miles
away, standing on the center of a bridge, Jarod watched her experience the
great moment and laughed at how happy she was.
Understanding, she
moved the camera a little closer to her face, and shouted, so as to be heard
over the noise, "Where are you?"
"London, right
over the Thames River. We've got an hour to go here."
"This is
amazing," she laughed. "Here, wait a minute." She swiveled the
eyepiece around so that it was facing the sparkling Eiffel Tower, lit up
against the midnight sky.
After taking a moment
to observe what Parker had, Jarod spoke up, with a grin, "You know,
there's supposed to be a big question of whether London's show will beat
France's."
"No way!"
Parker laughed, moving the eyepiece back to capture her.
"We'll
see."
An hour later, Parker
still stood in front of the Eiffel Tower. Her attention, however, had finally
been drawn away from light show in front of her. Instead, she watched the
spectacular fireworks exploding on the Thames, and the ferris wheel lighted up.
Eventually, Jarod
moved the video feed back to his face. "Happy new year, Miss Parker."
"Happy new year,
Jarod." The video screen went black.
~~~~~~~~~
By the time she'd
gotten back to her suite, Parker was exhausted. She was eager to see what else
Jarod had gotten her, but decided that it was better to be rested and fully
awake when she opened it, so she could appreciate it more. Curling up on the
canopy bed, she allowed the echo of celebrating voices outside lull her to
sleep, while one finger unconsciously fingered the charm dangling from her neck...
Young Miss Parker
followed a few steps behind her father. She was still young enough to show her
intimidation by this place, and didn't like the idea of getting lost in the
spooky and seemingly-endless halls. As they neared the elevator, Syd walked past,
leading Jarod to a simulation. Without a word, the boy pretender slipped
something into her hand, then continued on.
Miss Parker didn't
look at it, but slipped it right into her pocket so that Daddy wouldn't notice.
That night, though, as she lie in her bed, she took out what turned out to be
an envelope and opened it. Inside, neatly folded in half, was a paper
snowflake, carefully cut out with an intricate design of stars and Christmas
trees. Miss Parker knew that even making the childish decoration was risking
punishment if Jarod had been caught. She placed it next to her bed and fell
asleep...
Next morning, Daddy
came into her room to wake her. Seeing the gift, then finding Jarod's signature
in his young, careful handwriting on the back, he'd taken it...
Unsure of where her
gift had gone, but guilty that she'd lost it, Miss Parker was quiet as she
entered her father's office. Then, as he pulled it out from a desk drawer, her
face lit up. Furious, he'd crumpled it up and tossed it into the wastepaper
basket, then grounded her for a week...
The unhappy ending to
her dream woke Parker, who opted to open the gift rather than go back to sleep.
Sitting in a chair
next to her open window, with a wonderful view of the lit Eiffel Tower visible
even in the first rays of dawn, Parker slowly undid the ribbon and paper,
pulled off the box top, and moved aside the layers of tissue paper. With a
sentimental smile, she withdrew two paper snowflakes. One was the same she'd
seen Jarod make just a week earlier, the one with the same design he'd used all
those years ago. The other, signed by Sam in green crayon, was simpler, with
hearts cut into the design, and covered in glitter.
She moved to put them
back in the box, but realized that there was something else beneath another
layer of tissue paper. Parker moved the tissue out of the way, and a small
involuntary gasp came from her lips as she saw what lie in the box.
There, only slightly
crumpled despite its age and the harsh treatment it'd once received, was the
paper snowflake, with the message -in small, childish handwriting- Jarod had
written out so many years ago:
To Miss Parker
Merry Christmas
Love Jarod
Send feedback to: angelheart15@hotmail.com
To Dance In An English Garden
