Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. No money has changed hands and no copyright 
infringement is intended. WARNING – lots of gratuitous sex. Rated NC17!
06/15/03
-
Thanks to my beta reader, Bec-Bec. Commas are our friends!

Invitations
By Phenyx
Part 1

-

Major and Mrs. Charles Rourke
Request the honor of your presence
at the marriage of 
Miss Zoë Amelia Bolger
to their son
Mr. Jarod Michael Rourke
Saturday, June fourteenth
Two Thousand three
at five o'clock 
Trinity Church
24 Enola Drive
Ellingsworth, Nebraska


-

Miss Parker stood at her office window, gazing sightlessly through the glass as she thoughtfully 
tapped the ivory placard against her chin. The invitation was of a high quality, with the lettering 
engraved in silver. The edges of the card were adorned with designs of bells, roses and doves 
intertwined. It was lovely.

The card had arrived in her office mail this afternoon, addressed to "Miss M. Parker and guest." 
When she had first seen it, Parker had laughed. But the more she stared at it, the more irritating it 
became.

A soft voice from across her office caused Parker to turn with a hiss.

"I see that you've received one too," Sydney observed, holding up a matching white card.

"He's rubbing our noses in it," Parker growled. "He's laughing at us."

Sydney sighed. "Perhaps Jarod is simply creating a life for himself, now that The Centre's hold on 
him is gone."

"If so, " Parker groused, "Wonder-boy is in an awfully big hurry. Lyle was indicted barely three 
months ago for pity's sake."

Sydney shrugged. "I'm sure he has known this young lady long enough to know what he's doing."

Parker slumped into the leather office chair beside her desk. It was too much. So much had 
happened so fast. Mr. Parker's sudden death nearly a year ago had left Raines in charge at The 
Centre. With that ghoul at the helm, it hadn't taken long for the rest of the world to realize what 
Miss Parker had known for years. William Raines was a maniacal fiend.

Lyle, psychopath that he was, had dutifully served at Raines' side. By the time the Triumvirate 
became aware of the insanity of this new leadership, it was too late. Lyle's nocturnal hobbies had 
brought down the wrath of federal investigators.

The Centre's slide into oblivion had been devastatingly rapid. When Raines dropped dead from a 
stroke four months ago, all hell had broken loose. The Triumvirate had abandoned the facility with 
blinding speed in a feeble attempt at self-preservation.

Parker, Sydney and Broots still came to work every day, but pursuing Jarod was no longer on the 
agenda. Hundreds of employees had to be released. The courts had ordered copies of thousands 
of documents. Accountants were brought in to scour the books. Inmates and residents had to be 
evaluated and relocated.

Mr. Parker's attempts to keep Centre secrets from his adopted daughter had turned out to be her 
salvation. According to the records, Miss Parker knew nothing about what had been going on 
around her. She and her team had come through the investigations looking like idiots, but none of 
them had to face any charges.

Jarod's name never came up in any of the investigative reports. As usual, he had slipped through 
the minefield of lawyers and detectives without being noticed. 

Sydney heard from the rat on a somewhat regular basis. Jarod was living in some Podunk little 
town on the far side of nowhere. He'd reunited with mommy and daddy. Evidently, the little pain in 
the ass was now getting hitched.

Turning toward Sydney with a frown, Parker abruptly asked, "Why would he invite me?"

Sydney shrugged. "He considers you a friend, Miss Parker."

Parker scoffed, "It's more probable that he is trying to pad his half of the guest list. "

"He's invited Angelo as well," Sydney stated. "Perhaps Jarod just wants his childhood friends to 
celebrate this joy with him."

"Well, I'm not going." Parker groused. 

"Jarod will be disappointed," Sydney said gently.

"Tough." She growled. With a sigh Parker moaned, "I won't know anyone! It'll be at least two days 
of fatal boredom."

"I'll be there, Miss Parker." Sydney offered. "And Angelo too."

Parker rolled her eyes. "Oh that helps."

"As the groom's brother, I'm sure that Ethan will attend." Sydney suggested.

Parker sighed. She hadn't seen her half-brother, Ethan, in ages.

Sydney suppressed a smirk. He could see Parker teetering on the edge of submission. "I look 
forward to talking with the Major again. And meeting Jarod's mother will be an honor."

Parker shook her head dejectedly. 

Behaving as nonchalantly as he could, the aging psychiatrist added, "A nice long wedding 
reception would give you plenty of opportunity to speak with Mrs. Rourke. I'm sure she would be 
delighted to spend time with Catherine's daughter."

Parker slumped into her chair in defeat. "Oh alright! You make the arrangements. Just book me 
on whatever flight you use. But I won't sit next to mush head during the trip! You keep him 
entertained!"

"Whatever you say, Miss Parker," Sydney agreed. He left the room quickly as Sydney felt Miss 
Parker's ire grow. She was extremely irritated. Jarod had always had the ability to get under 
Parker's skin but her reaction to the innocuous invite seemed even more extreme than usual.

The wedding was in two weeks. Sydney had the feeling that Miss Parker would be rather difficult 
to work with during the interim.

--

Miss Parker stood in the back hallway of the church. Leaning against the doorway that led into a 
children's play area, she gazed into the room, carefully watching Angelo as he stacked wooden 
blocks. Oblivious to the tuxedo he wore, Angelo sat cross-legged on the floor as he concentrated 
intently on his task. There was an impressive tower growing in front of the furry little man.

Dressed in a shimmering silver outfit barely long enough to be considered decent, Parker shifted 
from one foot to the other. The stiletto heels of her shoes, bought a week ago to match the new 
dress, added more than three inches to her height but weren't made for a lot of standing around. 

Parker thought briefly about sitting in one of the child sized chairs before quickly deciding against 
it. She looked fantastic and she knew it. The wedding and following reception would last well into 
the night. Parker wasn't going to wrinkle the perfection of her attire before it was necessary.

She would rather chew on hot nails than admit it to Sydney, but Parker had gone to great lengths 
to look her best today. It had taken days of scouring the finest shops in New York before Parker 
had found the classic yet simple dress she wore. The thin spaghetti straps revealed flawless 
shoulders that curved gracefully up to her neck. She'd spent an inordinate amount of time on her 
hair this morning, finally deciding to pin it up in such a way that fine tendrils curled at her nape.

Parker looked absolutely stunning. When she'd met the rest of her group in the hotel lobby, the 
men waiting for her had been suitably impressed. Broots, who had also been invited much to 
Parker's dismay, had been reduced to a stuttering idiot as usual. Sydney had nodded 
appreciatively. But it had been Angelo's simple "Wow" that had brought a grin of satisfaction to 
Parker's lips.

As if by unspoken agreement, none of The Centre alumni had brought along a guest, even 
though the invitations had each specifically referred to one. Broots had even left Debbie with her 
girlfriend for the weekend instead of bringing her along.

Now, as everyone stood around waiting for the ceremony to begin, Parker was taking her turn 
keeping an eye on Angelo. He was handling the crowds and the new environment with 
remarkable ease.

With a sigh, Parker shifted back to the other foot. She loathed admitting it, but so far the weekend 
really hadn't sucked too badly at all. 

The rehearsal dinner last evening had turned in to a back yard barbeque of sorts. Party lanterns 
and candles had been placed around dozens of picnic tables and folding chairs. Music had lilted 
through the air from a CD player somewhere. Jarod, fink that he was, had been the consummate 
host, mingling everywhere and making sure everyone had a good time.

The attempts of Parker and her little troop to confine themselves to their own little clique had 
been easily thwarted by the pretender. He introduced his parents to the group then abruptly left 
them to go in search of his fiancée.

Jarod's parents had been very kind. After a few moments of awkwardness on her part, Parker 
was finally able to talk with Margaret Rourke for a few minutes about her mother. But with so 
many guests to attend to, the older woman hadn't been able to spend much time on the subject.

At one point during the evening, a thin little man by the name of Argyle had swooped in on Parker 
and asked her dance. By Parker's best estimate, the guy must have been brain damaged 
because he just wasn't picking up on her hints to get lost. And Parker wasn't known for the 
subtlety of such suggestions. 

Just when Parker was beginning to think she might have to hurt the little cretin, Jarod had 
appeared and rescued her. Or rescued him, depending on how you looked at the situation.

"Argyle," Jarod had warned in a throaty growl. 

"Hey J-man," The smaller man said. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. Just asking the pretty lady 
for a dance is all."

Jarod leaned in close. "Argyle," he said conspiratorially. "Remember the blonde in Philadelphia?"

The little man nodded fearfully.

"This one," Jarod said, jerking a thumb in Miss Parker's direction. "Could kick her ass without 
breaking a nail."

Argyle got the message and slinked away to pester some other poor soul. 

"Thanks," Parker said. "Is he a friend of yours?" 

Jarod shrugged. "Yeah. A really good friend." When he saw Parker's smirk he shrugged again. 
"Argyle kind of grows on you."

"Like slime on the bottom of a rock," Parker murmured. 

They had shared a good laugh. Angelo had joined them, trailing a piece of string on the ground 
behind him. The three Centre offspring had spent the next twenty minutes sitting in the grass 
playing a game that Jarod called "witch's broom". 

Parker vaguely remembered something like it when she was very little. The string was tied into a 
big loop and intertwined among one player's fingers. The object of the game was to transfer the 
string from one player's hands to the next player's hands without breaking the twisted design of 
the string around the fingers.

It had been a carefree few minutes that had brought back tender feelings of childhood 
camaraderie. Parker had enjoyed it immensely. The three of them were giggling like fools when 
Jarod's fiancée came upon them.

The pretender quickly introduced Parker and Angelo. Plastering a smile on her face, Parker 
shook the curly redhead's hand. 

"I've heard a lot about you, Zoë," Parker said with a grin that didn't reach her eyes. 

"So you're Miss Parker," the girl said cautiously.

Parker huffed playfully. "Well, don't believe everything Jarod tells you about me. I'm not always a 
bitch."

Zoë's sighed. "Well, I wouldn't know," she said. Turning to Jarod with a frown she added frostily, 
"He's never mentioned you to me."

"Parker and I go way back," Jarod admitted softly. "There's a lot of history between us."

"We spent time together at The Centre when we were children," Parker interjected.

The puzzled look Zoë flashed in Jarod's direction said volumes. Parker knew immediately that 
Zoë had no clue what The Centre was or how it pertained to her betrothed. 

A flash of anger rose in Miss Parker. How could this woman fully understand Jarod's needs if she 
didn't know about his life? Jarod's experiences at The Centre were such an integral part of who 
he was and yet Zoë knew nothing of it. This woman would never recognize how incredible her 
husband was because she didn't know what obstacles he had overcome to reach this point in his 
life. Parker almost felt sorry for the other girl.

Almost.

Truth be told, Parker found the other woman to be incredibly irritating. Zoë's bouncing, airy 
attitude was just too perky for Miss Parker's tastes. Within a matter of minutes, everything the 
little teeny-bopper said or did began to grate on Parker's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. 

Miss Parker had never been particularly adept at hiding her feelings of dislike. Out of respect for 
the setting, Parker tightly reigned in her desire to snarl at the girl when Zoë made a snide 
comment about Jarod's secrets.  

As Zoë drew Jarod away toward another group of guests, Sydney, who had approached while 
they were talking, commented, "She seems nice."

Parker made a disgusted sound. 

Raising his eyebrows, Sydney said, "Don't hide your opinion, Miss Parker. Tell us what you really 
think."

Crossing her arms angrily Parker said, "She's too flighty. I half expect her to start tripping merrily 
through the fields with a fairy's wand."

Sydney smirked. "Perhaps Jarod is looking for a more lighthearted outlook on life."

"She may be a lot of fun for now." Parker frowned. "But I have to wonder if she's afraid of the 
dark. Parts of Jarod's life are very dark indeed."

"The Centre is no longer a threat," Sydney argued. "That shadow is behind them."

Parker glared furiously at the aging psychiatrist. "Not even Jarod can erase the marks The Centre 
left on him. He can't pretend those scars away, Syd." She gazed thoughtfully in the direction the 
couple had gone. "I hope she can handle those demons when they come back to haunt him." 

Parker had spent the rest of the evening in self-inflicted semi-isolation. Only Angelo and Ethan 
had been able to coax her into conversation. She'd gone back to the hotel early and gone to bed, 
refusing to examine her sudden despondency too closely.

Glancing at the delicate watch on her wrist, Parker noticed that the wedding was due to start in 
fifteen minutes. "Angelo," she called softly. "Put the blocks away now. We need to go find our 
seats so we can see Jarod's wedding."

Angelo looked up at her with that empty gaze of his and said simply, "No." 

Parker groaned inwardly. "Please, Angelo. We don't want to miss the ceremony."

The shaggy-haired man shrugged. "Everybody will."

Turning her face to the ceiling in a silent plea for patience, Parker asked, "Everybody will, what? 
Angelo?"

Still stacking the blocks carefully he answered, "Everybody will miss the ceremony."

No sooner had the words fallen from Angelo's lips than Parker heard a door slam from the other 
end of the hallway. Parker turned and saw Zoë, wearing blue jeans and a flowered shirt, standing 
in the corridor. A moment later, the door that had just slammed shut opened again and Jarod 
appeared, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo and gray cummerbund. 

"Zoë," Jarod said in exasperation. 

Whirling around the red-head cried softly, "Jarod, no!" She shook her head tearfully. "I can't do 
this." Then, turning on her heel, Zoë dashed down the hallway passed Miss Parker toward the 
exit at the opposite end.

Stunned for a moment, Parker stared down the hall at Jarod. The pretender looked dazed, as if 
someone had just kicked him in the head. A heartbeat later, Parker turned to Angelo and growled, 
"Sit! Stay!" She then took off after the fleeing bride.

Parker caught up to Zoë in the parking lot as the other girl rummaged through her bag for the 
keys to her car.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Miss Parker snarled.

"Leaving," the other girl sniffled.

"You can't just abandon him." Parker said coldly.

Zoë glared. "I'm not abandoning anyone," she cried.

"It doesn't seem that way to me," Parker hissed. Leaning against the car door to block Zoë's 
escape, Parker said, "Look at him." She gestured across the parking lot toward the church.

Jarod was standing on the steps leading to the rear entrance. His head was tilted in that 
confused, intrigued manner that Parker had seen before. It was the same look Jarod would get on 
his face when someone made a reference to something he didn't understand. Even from this 
distance, Parker could see the wheels turning in the pretender's head. 

"Look at him," Parker said again, more insistently.

The two women gazed across the pavement at Jarod, causing a perplexed frown to crease his 
face. He stepped off the stairs toward them but Parker made a motion with her hand, indicating 
that he should stay put. He didn't like being so far away. He couldn't hear anything they were 
saying. But Jarod did as Parker instructed.

Parker sighed. Jarod looked fantastic in the perfectly fitted tux. The cut of the fabric accentuated 
his broad shoulders, angling down to his flat stomach. The piping along the sides of the slacks 
made his legs seem even longer. With his freshly shaved jaw and new haircut, the pretender 
looked like something that had just stepped off the cover of a men's fashion magazine.

"He is looking particularly delicious today," Zoë said with a sad smile.

Parker whirled on the girl. "How can you walk away from that?" she asked. "Not only is he 
somewhat attractive, but Jarod is also one of the nicest, most generous and caring individuals 
I've ever met," Parker said, her voice shaking with indignation. "He'll do anything for those people 
lucky enough to be important to him. As your husband, Jarod will spend a lifetime doing 
everything in his power to make you feel like a queen."

"I don't want that kind of devotion," Zoë snapped. "I can never be as perfect as he is. I could 
never live up to what he expects of me."

Parker laughed in a cold burst of derision. "Jarod is far from perfect. And he expects nothing from 
you but your love. If you walk away from that now, if you betray the trust he has placed in you, 
you'll never get it back. Trust is very important to him."

"He'll forgive me," Zoë said softly, almost to herself. "Jarod never stays angry for long."

Parker nodded. "Yes. He will forgive you. But Jarod won't forget, ever. He won't ever forget that 
you walked out on him."

Zoë yanked hard on the car door, trying to push Parker out of the way. "This is none of your 
damned business," she snarled.

"Jarod is my business, always has been," Parker hissed back. "And if you leave him like this, I will 
not allow you back into his life. I won't run the risk of you hurting him again."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Zoë cried. "You have no say in this."

Parker's fury was like a tangible thing, boiling through her veins. "You'd be surprised," she 
growled in a low dangerous voice. 

For a long moment the two women simply stared at each other, stubborn rage flaring in their 
eyes. 

Parker took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm down. "He loves you," she said, forcing her 
tone into a gentler timbre. "You love him. Go marry him."

Zoë's lower lip trembled, "I'm not sure," she whispered. "Jarod and I have had a lot of fun together 
but I'm not sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

"Fine," Parker replied coldly. Stepping back she pulled open the car door, holding it for the other 
girl like a chauffeur. "If you can't appreciate the gift he's given you, then you don't deserve it."

Zoë glanced warily at Jarod's distant form. He was still watching the women curiously. 

As Zoë climbed behind the steering wheel, Parker said bluntly, "This is it, Zoë. You won't get any 
second chances here." Straightening regally Parker added, "I won't permit it."

The other girl shoved a pair of sunglasses on her face and turned menacingly as she fired the 
ignition. "Fuck you, Miss Parker," she said angrily. Slamming the door, Zoë gunned the engine as 
she peeled out of the lot and drove away. 

Parker's heels clicked in a sharp staccato as she crossed the asphalt to where Jarod stood. 
When she reached his side, the two stood and watched Zoë's car disappear around a bend in the 
road.

After a moment, Jarod said softly, "Thanks."

Parker glared at him. "For what?" she ground out between clenched teeth.

Jarod shrugged. Undoing his bow tie, he said, "For trying. For not shooting her," he added with a 
small smile.

"I left my gun in Delaware," Parker growled dejectedly. 

Jarod watched Parker's reactions intently for a full minute. "You're angry," he said finally. 

Nearly shaking in her fury, Parker turned on the pretender. "Hell yes, I'm angry! And you should 
be too!"

Jarod shrugged again. "Should I? I've never been dumped before. I'm not sure how I'm expected 
to behave. What should I do now?" He asked, innocently turning to Parker for advice.

Gazing sorrowfully into Jarod's eyes, Parker could see the confusion swirling in those deep brown 
orbs. With a sigh Parker said, "First, someone needs to tell all those people that there will be no 
wedding today."

Jarod groaned. "Oh, lovely."

"I can get your father or Sydney. Either of them can do it. Under the circumstances, everyone will 
understand your reluctance to face such a crowd." Parker said. Anger roiled in her again as she 
saw the reluctant look cross Jarod's face.

"No," Jarod said with a sigh. "I'll do it."

-

End Part1




CHAPTER 2

-

"Will you let me buy you a drink, Jarod?" Parker asked.


Parker saw the weary little smile that crossed Jarod's face and felt her anger rise again.

The last couple of hours must have been difficult for him yet he had handled himself with his 
usual perfection. Jarod had gracefully stood in front of the assemblage in the chapel and tactfully 
told them that the wedding had been called off. He'd thanked everyone for coming, offered the 
reception hall and dinner to anyone who wanted it, and delicately promised to return all the gifts 
as soon as possible.

Parker had been suitably impressed by the skill of his diplomacy. Jarod had managed to convey 
to everyone that Zoë was gone, without displaying any condemnation. He continued to be as 
calm and gracious a host as he had been last night.

Most of the guests had politely refrained from commenting as they left. Jarod thanked each one 
individually for coming and apologized simply as he shook their hands at the door. 

Parker had been correct in assuming that a large percentage of the guests in attendance had 
been friends and relations of the bride. As a result, most of them had slipped quietly away, 
embarrassed for, and wary of, the jilted groom. 

Jarod's friends and family, however, had rallied to his side. The wedding cake and most of the 
food for the reception was trundled off to a soup kitchen somewhere. The rest was set up on 
tables in a corner of the party hall so that the handful of people who remained could have some 
dinner.

Parker watched the pretender closely, waiting for the reality of what was happening to sink in. 
Waiting for the wounded look of pain to enter those expressive brown eyes. But for the most part 
Jarod just looked confused and distracted. It was as if he had done something wrong and was 
busy trying to calculate exactly where his mistake had occurred.

"It's an open bar, Parker," Jarod said in reply to her invitation. "The drinks are already paid for."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Parker asked. 

Jarod shrugged. "Just promise me that you won't ask how I am holding up," he said with a sigh. 
"Everyone keeps asking, 'How are you holding up, dear?' 'Are you holding up okay, son?' " 

Parker smirked as Jarod did a more than decent impression of each of his parents.

"Could we just find someplace to hide out for a few minutes?" Jarod asked tiredly. "Sydney's got 
that clinical look on his face. He's going to have me lying on a couch doing the shrink thing any 
minute."

After snagging a bottle of scotch and two glasses from the bartender, Parker led Jarod down the 
hallway to a side door. They sat in the open doorway, each propping their backs against one side 
of the doorframe. Jarod threw back his first drink before Parker had even poured hers but he 
carefully sipped at his second.

For a while, they sat quietly, staring into the coming night and listening to the rain that had started 
to fall about thirty minutes ago. Pouring down in continuous sheets, the rain brought a dreary 
gloom to their surroundings. Jarod removed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over Parker's 
shoulders to ward off the chill.

"You don't seem very angry about all this, Jarod," Parker observed finally.

Draining his glass again, Jarod shrugged. He picked up the bottle that Parker had set on the floor 
between them and refilled the tumbler. "You seemed to be angry enough for both of us," he 
answered.

Parker cocked an eyebrow at the pretender. "There's something else, isn't there?" she asked. 
"You really aren't as upset as one would think."

Jarod smirked. "You can read my mind sometimes, do you know that?" 

"Only half as often as you can read mine, Rat boy," she said. "Spill it, Jarod. Did you two have a 
fight?"

"I don't see that it's any of your business, Miss Parker," he mused haughtily.

"You're right. It isn't," Parker admitted as she also refilled her drink. "Tell me anyway."

"We didn't have a fight, per say," Jarod said. He glanced at Parker thoughtfully, as if trying to 
decide how much to tell her. With a sigh he went on. "After I proposed, I thought we should wait 
until our wedding night before we had sex again. Make the evening that much more romantic, you 
know?"

"So it's been, what, a couple of months?" Parker asked offhandedly. 

Jarod waved a hand dismissively. "That's not the point. The problem was, when we didn't have 
the intimacy of sex to bring us together, Zoë and I had very little between us." 

"Nothing in common, eh?" Parker asked. 

"I'm not sure how to explain it," he said with a frown. "For example, right now, just sitting here, 
you and I are more intimately involved than Zoë and I could manage. There's a closeness here, a 
camaraderie." Jarod gazed into the amber liquid in his cup. "You and I are friends, Parker. Even 
after everything we've been through and done to each other, you and I share a friendship that is 
far stronger than the one I could build with my own fiancée."

"You can't compare this," Parker gestured between them. "To your relationship with Zoë."

"Why not?" Jarod asked simply. 

Parker blinked at him in confusion. Why not indeed? "We've known each other for a very, very 
long time, Jarod."

Jarod nodded without comment. Leaning his head back against the wooden doorframe, Jarod 
closed his eyes and sighed.

"Jarod?" Parker asked softly. "If that's the way you felt about it, why were you going to marry 
her?"

"A promise is a promise," Jarod shrugged. "And I do care deeply about her." He smiled crookedly. 
"I wanted to be married and build a regular life for myself. I figured we would grow closer together 
over time."

Parker stared out at the rain pensively. 

Jarod went on. "I guess that I'm just not meant to have that kind of life. A wife and kids just aren't 
in the cards. Zoë deserves better."

"Better than what? You?" Parker gasped angrily. "Jarod, don't start running yourself down. Don't 
let her make you feel that way. Zoë is a fucking idiot. She had everything and she just flushed it 
down the toilet."

Jarod's eyes grew wide at the vehemence in Parker's voice. "Is that what you said to her in the 
parking lot?" He asked incredulously.

"No," Parker said, draining her glass in one gulp before refilling it. "I told her that she would never 
be able to undo this. I tried to explain that you would never be able to trust her the same way 
again."

Jarod nodded slightly as he too emptied and refilled his cup.

"I swore to her that she would never get back into your life if she walked away now," Parker 
admitted softly. "I wouldn't allow it."

An indulgent smile graced Jarod's lips. "And how, exactly, were you planning on preventing it?"

"I hadn't thought it through that far." Parker smirked. "I just couldn't believe that she was really 
taking off."

"Why not?" Jarod asked.

"An intelligent, good looking guy like you with a heart of pure gold and plenty of money?" Parker 
rolled her eyes. "You, Jarod, are what many women call a great catch."

"You think I'm good looking?" the pretender asked in amusement.

Parker stared at Jarod intently for a moment. "Yes," she finally said with a grin. "I would have to 
say that you fall into the 'hottie' category."

Raising his glass to her, Jarod said laughingly, "So do you, Miss Parker."  After he'd taken a sip, 
he added, "But I do have a few flaws."

Parker laughed. "Believe me Rat, I know your faults better than anyone. You are an annoying 
little cretin." 

Jarod chuckled. "I do try."

Watching the pretender closely, Parker felt a smile spread across her face. Jarod didn't drink 
alcohol often and Parker could see that he had a good buzz going already. He was leaning 
heavily against the doorframe, more relaxed than Parker could ever remember seeing him.

His crooked smile looked so inviting that Parker was tempted to kiss the very corner of his mouth, 
just to see how he would react.

Ultimately, Parker gave in to the urge. Purposefully taking Jarod's glass from his fingertips, she 
set the two tumblers down on the step beside her. She leaned forward, deliberately placing one 
hand on the floor beside him and the other on the tile between his casually spread thighs. 
Supporting herself on her fingertips, Parker very slowly placed a delicate kiss on the edge of 
Jarod's lips.

Parker wasn't sure how she had expected Jarod to react to the soft touch. Fear and surprise had 
been her first assumptions. But when she pulled away from him, grinning mischievously, Parker 
saw neither of those emotions floating in the pretender's eyes. Instead, it was hunger that 
smoldered in those chocolate brown depths.

As they stared at one another, mere inches apart, Parker could feel her lips itching to touch him 
again. Seconds ticked by as Parker came to a startling realization. She wanted him, craved him. 
This incredible person who'd been such an integral but unobtainable factor in her life was sitting 
literally one breath away, waiting. He waited fearlessly, trustingly, for her to guide him through the 
next few moments. 

When Parker kissed him again, Jarod was expecting her. His hands found her waist and pulled 
Parker closer. As they nibbled and tasted each other's lips, Parker's arms wrapped around 
Jarod's neck. The kiss deepened to a drugging intensity. 

Pulling apart reluctantly for air, Parker rested her forehead against Jarod's. 

"Oh my," she whispered breathily.

Jarod swallowed. "Definitely."

Parker shifted. Somehow she'd wound up on Jarod's lap. Gazing into the pretender's shining 
eyes, Parker found herself grinning wickedly.

"I think I've figured it out," she purred huskily.

"What's that?" Jarod asked.

Parker leaned forward and nibbled lightly on his earlobe. "A way to make you forget about Zoë."

Jarod moaned. "Who?" He said playfully.

Parker's sultry laughter tickled across Jarod's cheek. "What a fickle lab rat you are."

As Jarod nuzzled against her neck, he said, "There are those who say I'm quite a catch, you 
know." 

"Oh there are?" She laughed.

"Hmm," Jarod insisted. "Are you going to catch me, Miss Parker?" 

"No," Parker said, abruptly wiggling away from him. She stood up and stepped away, leaving 
Jarod to stare up at her in frustrated confusion. "I chased you for more than six years. If you want 
to play this game anymore, Wonder Boy, you'll need to catch me."

A sly grin played across Parker's face as she stood regally before him. Just inches out of Jarod's 
reach she slid the tuxedo jacket off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. As Jarod watched 
spellbound, Parker gracefully pulled one leg up and slipped off her shoe. After repeating the 
exercise with the other shoe, Parker stepped out the door, carrying the stilettos in one hand.

Turning her face upward, Parker closed her eyes and let the raindrops fall on her cheeks. The 
rain was coming down heavily so that Parker's face and shoulders were drenched in a matter of 
moments.

"Well?" Parker asked seductively. "Do you want me, Jarod?"

Rising slowly from his seat on the floor, Jarod watched a fat raindrop slide down Parker's neck 
and disappear into the cleft between her breasts. "Yes," he growled.

Delighted laughter bubbled from Parker's throat as she turned and dashed off through the rain.

Jarod ran after her.

Thunder rumbled across the black sky as Parker ran across the asphalt and disappeared into the 
wooded area behind the church. 

With only enough light to see his way, Jarod ran, blood pumping through his veins in rhythm with 
the drops falling on his skin. The satiny cloth of Parker's dress shimmered tauntingly when wet, 
drawing Jarod forward. He felt light-headed and a little giddy from the scotch, causing their flight 
through the woods to take on a surreal quality.

Jarod stopped when he realized that he'd lost her. He searched frantically with his eyes for the 
twinkling gray gleam to rematerialize. When it did, the pretender realized that he was much closer 
to his quarry than he'd thought.

Parker was smiling at him as she peered around a large oak tree just a few yards away. She was 
drenched, slick from the rain. The silvery gray dress seemed almost luminescent. 

With a sudden burst of speed, Jarod snatched Parker into his arms. Twirling her around in a 
massive bear hug, Jarod buried his face in the damp sweetness of her hair. Her laughter filtered 
through the night like music. 

"Gotcha." Jarod snarled against her neck. 

Parker wrapped her arms around Jarod's neck as she kissed him passionately. Clutching her to 
him, Jarod pressed Parker's back against the trunk of the tree as their tongues met. With one 
hand Jarod peeled the strap of Parker's dress away from her shoulder, baring it for his kisses. 
The other hand slid down her back and over her derriere to cup its roundness. 

When one lean bare leg wrapped itself around Jarod's thigh, he groaned with desire against 
Parker's lips. With his hand on her buttocks, Jarod pressed her against the fullness of his 
erection, taut and rigid. 

"I have something for you," Parker gasped in a voice thick with need.

Twirling out of Jarod's grasp again, Parker shoved a piece of cloth into his hand and took off 
through the trees once more.

Panting heavily, Jarod looked down at the bit of material Parker had given him. It took him a 
moment to register what the bit of silk was. With a tortured groan, Jarod realized that he had 
Parker's panties resting in his palm. Rational thought vanished as the pretender was overcome 
by a need that surpassed mere lust.

He ran after her.

Jarod barely noticed when they burst from the trees onto the street. Dashing down the sidewalk 
nearly a hundred yards ahead of him, Parker glanced over her shoulder to check Jarod's 
progress. Gasping with exertion, Parker crossed the street and ran into the hotel where she'd 
been staying for the last few days. 

Forced to stop at the reception desk for her key card, Parker smiled excitedly at the young man 
behind the counter. Less than a minute later, Parker giggled triumphantly as she bolted toward 
the elevator with the key in her hand. Jarod entered the building just as the lift doors opened. 
Frantically punching the button for her floor, Parker tried to get the doors to slide shut. 

Jarod managed to reach the elevator just as the doors closed. He yanked them back open with a 
low growl and stepped into the small space. Without preamble, Jarod grabbed Parker to him in a 
deep punishing kiss. As they began their ascent, Jarod lifted Parker from the ground and pressed 
her against the paneled wall. 

With both hands, Jarod shoved her skirt up, giving him the opportunity to prove to himself that 
she was indeed naked beneath the shimmering dress. Wrapping her legs around the pretender's 
lean waist, Parker made a gasping, groaning sound and she shivered as Jarod's fingertips 
brushed demandingly across the tender nub between her legs.  

Buttons popped and plinked against the walls as Parker tore open the dress shirt that Jarod wore. 
Running her hands through the new opening, she weaved her fingers through the hair on his 
broad chest making him moan. 

When the elevator doors slid open, Jarod backed into the hallway with Parker still wrapped 
around him. Carrying her down the length of the corridor, Jarod continued to kiss her passionately 
as they went. Their kissing continued as they reached the door to her room. There, Parker 
fumbled with the key blindly until she dropped it.

"Shit," Jarod growled. 

Leaning over so that Parker was nearly upside down, Jarod snatched the piece of plastic off the 
floor and jammed to into the slot. The door opened with a bang. Stumbling into the room, Jarod 
slammed Parker against the door panel, forcing it closed behind them.

The single spaghetti strap holding up Parker's dress abruptly tore when Jarod yanked at it. 
Heedless of the damage to the expensive gown, Jarod pulled at the front of the garment, shoving 
it down to Parker's waist and revealing the treasure of her creamy breasts.

Never before had Jarod been so totally overwhelmed by sensation. His sexual experiences in the 
past had been exercises in technique. Jarod was a patient and considerate lover, always placing 
his partners' needs first. Until now. 

Chasing Parker through the night had been incredibly erotic. The gift of her underwear had been 
over the top, nearly driving Jarod mad with desire. He'd never been so hard, so painfully erect, in 
his life.  Jarod's actions now were dictated not by what he believed Parker would enjoy most but 
were instead fueled by his own desperate need to touch and taste every inch of her.

With Parker's back still firmly planted against the door, Jarod pushed at her skirt until the dress 
was no more than a ring of fabric around Parker's waist. Gripping the inside of Parker's thigh with 
one hand, the fingertips of the other danced across the folds of her like a blind man reading 
Braille. As Parker began to shudder around him, Jarod delved further, exploring the depths of her 
with probing fingers. 

She cried out, clinging to him with her arms and legs as her body shook. As Parker came in his 
arms, Jarod used the leverage of his body against hers to hold her in place while he unfastened 
his belt and lowered the zipper on his trousers. Parker was still in the middle of her climax when 
Jarod freed himself from the fabric and thrust deep into the core of her.

Again and again Jarod pounded into the sweet slickness of Parker's center. Nothing else existed 
but the two of them, merging together into a single being. Parker screamed, clawing at Jarod's 
back with her fingernails as he felt her spasm around him again. 

God help him, Jarod felt like he was dying. He drove harder and harder against Parker's soft and 
pliant body, in an attempt to get as much of himself in her as he could. Jerking to the floor in a 
frantic motion, Jarod pulled Parker with him, still joined together. When Jarod rolled over, pinning 
Parker beneath him, he felt the tremor building inside. There was only time for one more thrust 
before Jarod's world shattered in an explosion of color. His voice cried out in a growl of release 
as the essence of his soul burst into Parker's womb.  

Jarod collapsed in a panting heap, nuzzling against the glistening skin of Parker's neck. For 
several minutes, neither of them spoke. They lay gasping for air, trailing fingertips along damp 
curves of one another's bodies. 

Hugging Parker tightly, Jarod finally spoke. "Damn, woman," he murmured in awe and surprise. 
"If I'd known it could be like that," he panted. "We'd have tried this years ago."

Parker laughed in a deep sultry sound. "If you had tried, I would have put a bullet between your 
eyes." 

"Small price to pay," Jarod teased. "It would have been well worth it."

Sighing heavily, Jarod reluctantly rolled to one side and gazed down at Parker's flushed face. 
With a tenderness that Parker found nearly heartbreaking, the pretender eased the wet satin of 
the dress over Parker's hips and down her legs. Casting the ruined fabric aside carelessly, Jarod 
began to trace her more interesting curves with his fingertips. 

As he gauged every facet of her bosom with his hands, Jarod kicked off his shoes. His trousers 
and underpants, which had to this point been pooled in the vicinity of his knees, quickly joined the 
other discarded items on the floor. When the buttonless white shirt was the only article of clothing 
he still wore, Jarod rolled onto his back, skillfully taking Parker with him so that she sprawled on 
top. 

Parker rose until she straddled Jarod's stomach. She ran her fingernails though his chest hair, 
playing with his nipples in much the same way that he was toying with hers. Jarod stuck one arm 
into the air, offering the tender underside of his arm to Parker. 

"Take the cufflink off," he ordered softly.

Parker obliged, unfastening the gold clip and pulling the shirt from his arm once it was free. Jarod 
watched her silently as she worked, granting her access to the other wrist when she was ready 
for it. In order to remove the shirt, Jarod was forced to sit up. As he did so, he captured Parker's 
lips in another heady kiss.

Both completely naked at this point, Jarod ran his hands all over Parker's body. He kissed her 
swollen lips and nuzzled at the tender curve of her neck.

Nipping playfully at the hollow of her shoulder, Jarod spoke with a phony British accent. "Please 
ma'am. May I have some more?" 

Parker laughed delightedly. "Impressive stamina for a man your age, Rat."

Grinning wickedly up at her from the valley between Parker's breasts, Jarod snickered. "I take my 
vitamins and eat a healthy diet."

"Liar," Parker gasped as he began to suckle greedily at one breast. "You haven't eaten health 
food since you ran away." 

Jarod grunted noncommittally, moving from one delicate mound to the other.

Burying her hands in his silky hair, Parker held Jarod close. "You're merely obsessing over your 
new toy." Soft laughter rolled through her. "We'll repeatedly have wild passionate sex until you get 
tired of me. Once you get bored you'll tuck me into your knapsack with the rest of your toys."

Jarod abruptly grabbed Parker by the arms and shook her. "I've known you for more than thirty 
years, Parker. You are still the most interesting, intriguing woman I've ever met. You could never 
bore me."

Gazing into the pretender's flashing eyes, Parker realized that he was as close to angry as she 
had seen him all night. "I was only teasing, Jarod."

"No, you weren't," he replied in a low growl. "Not entirely."

A shiver ran down Parker's spine. This was no shmuck that she had picked up in a bar 
somewhere. The man nestled erotically between Parker's thighs knew her better than anyone 
else ever had. Jarod knew her thoughts and he knew her insecurities. As Parker saw the 
determination in Jarod's eyes, she knew that this would be no one night stand. Part of her had 
known that all along.

"I'll never be able to get enough of you, Parker," Jarod whispered huskily.

As they kissed again, Parker felt some cold icy part of her melt away. 

Smiling tearfully at him, Parker purred, "We could test the limits of that stamina, Rat-boy."

Grinning in return, Jarod asked innocently, "How do you suggest we do that, Miss Parker? Do you 
propose a scientific observation of some sort?" 

"Hmm," Parker heaved, nuzzling against Jarod's cheek. "I propose that we fuck like bunnies until 
one of us yells 'Uncle.'"        

Jarod laughed with mischievous delight. In a smooth graceful motion, he lifted them both from the 
floor. Parker wrapped her legs around him and Jarod carried her across the room in what was 
quickly becoming her favorite mode of transportation.

"We'll need a controlled environment for the experiment," he smiled impishly.

They tumbled onto the bed in a giggling mass of intertwined limbs. What followed was a night 
filled with exploration and passion as they reached for each other again and again in the dark. 
Each ultimately submitted to the other, neither winning nor losing the contest. 

Parker woke slowly. Bright sunshine filled the room as she stretched languorously. Arching her 
back like a lazy cat, Parker flexed sore muscles. Aching and tender in the most pleasant of ways, 
she sighed in contentment. 

As she realized that the bed beside her was empty, Parker's eyes blinked open.

"I'm here," Jarod's soft voice lilted across the room reassuringly.

Parker smiled at him. The pretender was standing several feet away wearing only the tuxedo 
trousers. He leaned against a wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest. Appearances 
indicated that he had recently showered, wet tendrils of dark hair curled around his ears.

Jarod laughed softly, shaking his head.

"What's so amusing, Pez head?" Parker demanded with a sigh.

"You are," he said in a deep rumbling voice. "You have the most delicious grin on your face, 
Parker."

She shrugged and smiled at him even more. 

"And you know what's the best part about that grin?" Jarod asked as he stalked playfully toward 
her.

"What?" She asked indulgently.

Jarod sat on the edge of the bed. With one hand he tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind 
Parker's ear. Kissing her cheek, Jarod whispered, "I put it there."

"Yes, " she sighed. "You did."

"I rocked your world," Jarod purred.

Parker laughed. "Oh no!" she cried in mock dismay. "Wonder-boy's ego has been boosted to 
unheard of altitudes."

Chuckling with amusement, Jarod dragged Parker and her tangle of bed sheets on to his lap, 
cuddling around her affectionately. "But it is a fragile ego, Miss Parker," he said slyly. "It will need 
to be stroked often to keep it healthy."

Arching one brow at him curiously, Parker slid one hand between them. Palming the rapidly 
growing bulge in Jarod's pants, Parker whispered, "I think I can do that for you, Jarod."

They began to kiss with a lazy, Sunday morning kind of intensity. Just as the urgency of their 
passion began to flare, the phone at the bedside rang. 

Groaning at the interruption, Parker pulled away. Jarod chased her with his lips murmuring 
against her mouth, "Don't answer it. Don't." 

Parker slipped away, grabbed the receiver and snarled in a low, husky voice, "What?"

"Miss Parker?" a familiar Belgian accent asked with concern.

"Is something wrong, Sydney?" Parker asked alerted by the tone of the psychiatrist's voice.

"I'm not sure yet," Sydney said. "But Jarod seems to be missing. No one has seen him since last 
evening."

"Oh, shit," Parker groaned. Jarod frowned in apprehension, forcing Parker to quickly reassure him 
with a wave of her hand. "Jarod is fine, Syd," she said. After a moment's indecision, she added, 
"He's right here." 

Parker could almost hear the shocked look on Sydney's face. She handed the phone to Jarod 
with a helpless shrug.

"Hello, Sydney," Jarod said calmly.

Parker was only privy to the one side of the conversation, but the content was pretty easy to 
discern.

"No, Sydney, I'm fine," Jarod said. 

"Yes. I've been here all night," Jarod answered. He smirked at Parker. As he listened to Sydney 
talk, Jarod took Parker's hand in his own and kissed her knuckles playfully.

Jarod chuckled softly. "I'm willing to take that risk," he said gently. 

Parker tilted her head at him questioningly. Jarod rolled his eyes and translated for her, "Sydney 
says that there could be serious emotional ramifications to our actions."

"No!" Parker gasped sarcastically. "Do you think?"

Jarod turned back to the phone and said, "Parker says that it's none of your damned business, 
Sydney."

Parker snickered. Her fingers started to twirl seductively at the tuft of hair just below Jarod's 
navel, making the pretender squirm.

Jarod grimaced suddenly and sat up. "No. I haven't," he replied to another of Sydney's inquiries. 
"It just hadn't occurred to me," he sighed forlornly. "I will. Bye."

"What's wrong?" Parker asked as Jarod slammed the phone back into its cradle.

"Apparently, my folks are worried sick," Jarod said with a guilty shrug. 

"Would you like me to drive you home?" Parker asked in understanding.

Jarod kissed her tenderly, "Do you mind? I left my car at the church."

Parker smiled indulgently. "Give me ten minutes to shower," she said as she sprang from the bed 
with a sheet wrapped around her nudity.

"There's no need to rush, Parker. I'm not in any particular hurry." Jarod sighed.

Parker paused at the bathroom door and turned back toward Jarod. "Well in that case," she 
purred, allowing the sheet to slip to the floor. "Would you like to wash my back for me?"

The sexy crooked grin that spread across the pretender's face was like a drug to which Parker 
was quickly becoming addicted. Jarod scrambled across the room and laughingly followed Parker 
into the bathroom for another shower.

Ninety minutes later, Parker maneuvered her rented car off the road and onto the gravel driveway 
leading to the Rourke farmhouse. Jarod leaned lazily against the seat, watching her through 
sleep heavy lids. 

The short trip from town had been made with little conversation between them. Parker drove one 
handed because her right hand was clasped possessively in Jarod's left. She glanced at him 
frequently and found Jarod watching her intently every time. It made her smile. 

As they pulled up in front of the farmhouse, Parker's grin slipped away to be replaced by a wary 
frown. Standing on the porch, watching the car approach was Jarod's mother, Margaret Rourke, 
and at her side was Zoë.

Parker and Jarod exchanged a worried look. "Well, this is going to be awkward," she said.

 "Shit," Jarod grumbled. Gazing at Parker apologetically, he said, "My mother really likes Zoë."

"Shit," Parker groaned.

"We could make a run for it," Jarod suggested hopefully. 

Parker glared and shook her head negatively.

"Shit." 
 
-

End Part 2
 


CHAPETER 3

-
"The fact that Mom accepted the invitation is a good sign, right?" Jarod asked.


"Yes, Jarod," Parker sighed indulgently. Jarod had only asked the same question half a dozen 
times over the past week. 

Parker had extended the invitation to Jarod's family, asking everyone to spend the holiday 
weekend at her place. She hadn't really expected anyone but Ethan to agree to come. When the 
Major had called to tell Parker that the entire clan would be in attendance on Independence day, 
Parker had been more than a little surprised. Jarod, concerned about another confrontation with 
his mother, had been a nervous wreck ever since.

The scene at the farmhouse nearly three weeks ago had not been pretty.

Parker stood quietly at Jarod's side as he faced the girl he'd intended to marry just 24 hours 
previously. Jarod's wrinkled clothes and torn shirt were like beacons, advertising to the world 
exactly where he'd spent the night. 

When Zoë questioned him, Jarod was blatantly honest about it.

"Did you spend the night with her?" Zoë asked without preamble.

"Yes," Jarod said simply.

Zoë swallowed, slightly taken aback by his candor. "Did you fuck her?" she ground out cruelly.

"Yes," he replied again. 

"Oh, Jarod," Margaret cried in disappointment. "How could you do such a thing?"

Parker saw the slightly confused look that came over Jarod's face. He decided to take the 
question literally. 

"With remarkable enthusiasm," he admitted. 

Margaret's shoulders sagged sadly. "I know that you were hurting, Jarod," she said. "But did you 
have to fall into bed with the first tramp to come along?"

Jarod frowned. "Don't call her that." 

Not realizing that she was attacking a tender area, Jarod's mother said angrily, "Well that's the 
only decent term I can come up with for a woman who hops into bed with an emotionally 
vulnerable man."

"Parker didn't do anything wrong," Jarod replied, his voice rising. "Zoë left. Parker tried to get her 
to stay, but Zoë was the one who left."

"I wasn't ready," Zoë said softly. "I got scared."

"You gave the ring back," Jarod said defensively. "I understood that to mean that all deals were 
off."

"Jarod," Zoë whispered desperately, "let's talk about this, just you and me. I can forgive you for 
whatever happened last night."

Parker's icy laughter escaped before she could stop it. Margaret and Zoë glared furiously at her. 
"You don't get it, do you?" Parker snarled.  "Be as gracious and forgiving as you like, sweetheart. 
It's too late. I warned you yesterday that there would be no second chances."

Margaret stormed off the porch to stand toe to toe with Miss Parker, her eyes flashing. "Stay out 
of this," the older woman hissed, poking Parker in the shoulder with one pointed finger.

Parker's hands curled into fists. Jarod's whispered warning, "Easy, Parker," helped her reign in 
her flare of anger only briefly. She concentrated on slowing her breathing, on calming her rage.

"You have no idea who you're messing with, lady," Parker hissed between clenched teeth. "Touch 
me again, and I'll have to hurt you."

"Parker," Jarod warned again. 

Pinning Jarod's mother with an icy cold glare that had kept legions of Centre sweepers at bay, 
Parker said, "He'd be annoyed with me if I broke his dear mother's fingers."

Margaret blinked in surprise. "Jarod, she's threatening me!" she cried fearfully. 

Jarod replied softly, "You started it, Mother."

Whirling on her son, Margaret demanded, "Tell her to stop."

Jarod cocked his head at his mother. The entire situation was confusing him. He didn't 
understand the nuances of the differing relationships he was currently facing. To Parker, it was 
obvious that Zoë and Margaret were trying to define their places in Jarod's life. It was a wasted 
effort. The pretender's trust and confidence could never be forced. 

Parker knew that Jarod loved these women. He obviously adored his mother. But love and trust 
were two different things. Parker could almost see Jarod calculating different scenarios in his 
head. He was desperately trying to determine how these women would react to the things he 
said. But emotions were running high and possible outcomes were spiraling out of Jarod's 
control. The pretender didn't like it one bit.

The troubled look on Jarod's face is what finally made Parker back down. With a shrug she 
stepped back, folded her arms and leaned casually against the hood of her rented car. 

Parker continued to watch from a small distance as the two women debated with Jarod. Running 
his hand anxiously through his hair, Jarod did his best to calm them. He didn't look at Parker. She 
abruptly realized that he didn't need to. Jarod had shifted her away from the verbal attacks, out of 
harm's way so to speak, so he had no need to worry about her any longer.

It occurred to Parker as she witnessed the emotional power struggle, that Jarod's confidence in 
her was absolute. For as long as Parker could remember, Jarod had been able to gauge her 
feelings and predict her reactions to every situation. Parker was immune to the war that these two 
women were waging against her, because Parker's place in Jarod's life had been cemented 
years ago. The relationship they shared had been built over decades of mutual experiences, not 
during a single night of sexual desire.

"Let's all try to calm down," Major Charles said when he emerged onto the porch and assessed 
the chaos.

By this time, Zoë was crying, Margaret was furious and Jarod looked just plain miserable. Parker 
stood nonchalantly by the car, waiting to come to Jarod's rescue should he indicate the need.

Margaret turned tearfully to her husband. "Charles," she cried pointing at Parker in derision. 
"Jarod spent the night with that woman, doing only god knows what!"  

"I'm sure we all know what they were doing," the Major said gently. "Jarod is a grown man. He's 
more than capable of choosing his own companions."

"Thank you!" Jarod sighed gratefully.

The Major glanced surreptitiously at Miss Parker and she smiled gently in return. It seemed that 
Jarod's father was in her corner, a powerful ally during these troubled times.

Major Charles took his sputtering wife by the elbow and began to steer her into the house. "Come 
along, Maggie," he said tenderly. "Leave the kids to talk this out between themselves."

"But, Zoë," Margaret started.

"Zoë can take care of herself," the Major interrupted. "She made her choice yesterday. Jarod will 
make his today."

Everyone stood silent as they watched the older couple disappear into the farmhouse. Once they 
had gone, Zoë turned to look up at Jarod tearfully.

"I could make you happy, Jarod," she sniffled.

Jarod sighed. "I know you could, Zoë. But it just isn't going to happen."

The red-haired girl glared at Parker. "What can she give you that I can't?" she asked.

Glancing at Parker briefly, he asked Zoë, "Do you really want to know?"

When she nodded, Jarod gazed over at Parker again and shrugged. "I find myself when I am with 
her." He looked back to the girl standing before him. "I'm a pretender, Zoë. I can be anyone I want 
to be. Out of habit, I tend to become the person that those around me expect." He paused, as if 
trying to find words. "Parker expects the person I truly am. No one else does. No one else knows 
who that is."

"I think I know you pretty well, Jarod," Zoë claimed defensively.

Jarod smiled sadly. "There are parts of me, Zoë, dark and frightening parts of my life that you will 
never understand."

"But she knows, doesn't she?" Zoë said softly.

"Yes," Jarod nodded. "Part of her lives in that dark place with me."

Zoë reached up and caressed Jarod's stubble covered jaw. "It was fun, what we had together."

Jarod nodded and bent slightly to accept the gentle kiss Zoë placed on his lips. Then she turned 
and strode confidently toward the red convertible parked nearby. 

As she passed, Miss Parker asked softly, "If you'd known then, what would happen, would you 
have gone through with the wedding?"

Zoë halted, thought for a moment, and answered without looking at the other woman. "I don't 
know," she whispered.

Parker shook her head. 

Jarod and Parker stood in the yard for a long minute, watching Zoë get in her car and drive away 
much as they had the day before. After the car had disappeared, Jarod tucked his hands into his 
pockets and asked, "When do you head back to Delaware?"

"My flight leaves this afternoon," Parker replied simply.

There was another long silence between them.

"What do we do now, Parker?" Jarod asked solemnly.

Smiling reassuringly, Parker said, "Let's just take things as they come, shall we?"

Jarod looked at Parker with wide-eyed fear. "I don't want you to go," he said.

With a sigh, Parker crossed the space that separated them and wrapped Jarod in her arms. He 
seemed so lost, so frightened and alone. Parker knew that he needed to be comforted, assured 
that she wasn't about to disappear from his life. 

Kissing him tenderly, Parker said, "You know how to find me, Jarod. You always have."

He smiled. The apprehensive look on his face disappeared as Jarod's insecurities slid back into 
remission. 

Parker chuckled. When Jarod tilted his head curiously she explained, "We are a couple of 
emotional basket cases, do you know that?"

Jarod smiled and hugged Parker close. Tucking her head under his chin Jarod said, "That's why 
we are so well suited to each other. We're so far off-kilter that we balance each other out."

Parker had laughed. After several minutes, they parted. Parker had then gone to find Sydney and 
Broots and head for the airport. What had happened between Jarod and his mother afterward, 
Parker didn't know. Jarod hadn't spoken of it. The impression Parker had gotten was that Jarod's 
mother was still annoyed with him.

Parker had arrived home that night, content but lonely. She'd wandered around the old house, 
painfully aware that everything she looked at was hers alone. She found herself wishing there 
were a pair of someone else's shoes lying about for her to trip over.

With nothing better to do, Parker had gone to bed early. She had just settled in when the phone 
rang. Knowing it was Jarod, Parker had snatched up the receiver before the first ring had 
completed. 

"Hi," Jarod's voice had purred.

"Hi," Parker smiled.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Missing you," Parker replied. 

"Really?" Jarod asked desperately.

"Yes, really," Parker snapped playfully. "I wish you were here, you annoying little cretin."

By morning, he had been. 

Parker had found Jarod standing on her front porch when she'd gone to get the morning paper. 
He had driven for twelve hours, straight through the night. All of his possessions had been tucked 
into two boxes, a silver Halliburton and a duffel bag in the back seat of his car. Jarod had been 
staying with her ever since.

Jarod had quickly made himself at home in Parker's house. As though laying claim to the 
property, signs of the pretender's presence were everywhere. Framed pictures of his family stood 
on the mantel beside the photographs Parker had cherished for years. Two matching bicycles 
were propped in the foyer, complete with helmets dangling over the handlebars. A lap top 
computer sat on the dining room table and Pez dispensers were scattered across the bureau in 
the bedroom they shared. 

Most annoyingly, Jarod had made a habit of leaving clothing hanging over the backs of chairs 
throughout the house. At any given time, in any room, Parker could always find at least one 
discarded shirt or jacket. Part of her recognized the action as a subconscious need on Jarod's 
part to make the place his own. And Parker was grateful for the opportunity to steal the softest 
shirts for herself. But the clutter could get on her nerves, so she nagged him about it.

Much to Parker's irritation, Jarod seemed to enjoy her pestering. 

For the most part, their relationship had bloomed in the past three weeks. They talked about 
everything and nothing. They watched movies and went out to dinner. Sydney had quickly 
become a regular dinner guest. And of course, the sex had been incredible.

Remembering what had happened between Jarod and Zoë, Parker had been a little concerned 
about basing their relationship on sexual chemistry. But when she had mentioned it to Jarod, he 
had laughed. 

"Parker," Jarod had whispered lovingly. "It's not like we just jumped into bed with each other. 
There's been thirty years worth of relationship built between us before we ever got that far." 

When Parker's cycle had started just over a week ago, she had been surprised to find herself a 
bit disappointed. Their tumultuous first night together had been unplanned and unprotected. As a 
result, there had been the mild chance that her cycle wouldn't come. A strange longing had 
engulfed her heart when Parker had discovered that she wasn't pregnant. The feeling had 
frightened her, and she hadn't mentioned it to Jarod. 

They had fought only once. It had been an angry, bitter argument that had nearly landed Jarod on 
the couch for the night. It had happened the day after Parker's disappointing revelation, and 
Jarod had been clueless to her discontent. To make matters worse, the pretender had 
accompanied Parker to work that day. With the well-meant intention of helping to clear up a 
logistics problem, Jarod had agreed to go in to the office with Parker. Hundreds of thousands of 
dollars worth of research equipment had to be shipped and the scheduled transportation had 
fallen through. The entire deal was in jeopardy. Parker needed a troubleshooter to solve the 
problem. Jarod volunteered.

Being at The Centre, managing a sizable number of staff, albeit for only one day, had made Jarod 
very edgy. His anxiety had risen steadily throughout the day. Sam's presence at Parker's side 
had only fueled the pretender's discomfort. Despite an inexpensive resolution to the shipping 
problem, by the time Jarod and Miss Parker headed home for the evening, they were snarling at 
each other just like in the old days. 

The end result had been a great deal of yelling and a lot of door slamming. In knowing each other 
so well, Parker and Jarod knew exactly how to attack each other. The verbal whipping they had 
given each other had sliced them bare. Both were passionate and tenacious individuals whose 
insecurities and defensive personalities happened to bubble to the surface at the same time, with 
alarming consequences.

They'd finally stormed off to separate parts of the house to sulk angrily. Hours later, as Parker lay 
wide awake, Jarod came into the bedroom to stand wordlessly at the foot of the bed. 

After a long moment he asked flatly, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Parker whispered tearfully.

"I'm sorry," Jarod gasped. The moment Parker opened her arms to him the pretender threw 
himself at her, burying his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry too." Parker cried.

They had curled up together and talked until nearly dawn. The next morning, Parker had decided 
to invite Jarod's family for the holiday weekend. Their argument, and the easy reconciliation that 
followed, made it apparent to her that this relationship was a strong one, even though neither she 
nor Jarod had ever uttered the word "love". The word itself seemed trivial compared to the depth 
of what was developing between them. 

With a long partnership in the makings, Parker felt that she needed to learn to get along with 
Jarod's mother, hence the invitation. Jarod, in an attempt to make up for the horrible fight, had 
agreed to allow his family to join them for a few days. 

Now that his parents were on their way, Jarod wasn't so sure that it was a good idea.

Jarod was doing his best not to pace while Parker stood at the front window, sipping casually at a 
cup of coffee. A gray minivan pulled into the driveway.

"They're here," she said setting her cup down on a nearby table.

For a moment, Jarod froze, anxiety written across his face. 

Parker laughed. "Calm down, Energizer," she purred, caressing his arm affectionately.

Jarod relaxed a little and smiled. The newest nickname, in reference to the trademark bunny that 
just kept going and going, had quickly become one of Jarod's favorites. He loved the fact that 
Parker had so many names for him, names that she alone used.

"You worry too much," Parker soothed with a quick kiss to his cheek. "What is the worst that can 
happen?"

"Well," Jarod began, ticking off possibilities on his fingers. "You could lose your temper, and shoot 
her."

Parker grinned. "My gun is locked up and hidden away in the bedroom."

"She could say something truly horrible and destroy my image of her," Jarod went on.

"There's little chance of your mother falling from that pedestal you've placed her on, Jarod," 
Parker said gently.

"The two of you could hate each other forever and force me to choose sides," Jarod sighed. 

"Forever is a long time," Parker chuckled. "And I promise, I will never ask you to make such a 
decision."

"My mother might," he replied.

"By the end of the weekend, your mother will love me," Parker declared with a smirk. "I will be 
gracious and gentle and I won't threaten to break any of her bones."

Jarod pulled Parker close and hugged her tightly. "I never thought this would be so hard," he 
whispered.

"Blending two lives into one is never easy," Parker soothed. 

Jarod sighed as a knock came at the front door.

"Come on," Parker ordered, pulling out of the embrace. "Time to suck it up, Franken-rat. The 
show must go on."

The next few minutes were filled with the chaos of greeting as Jarod's family entered, luggage 
and all. Parker, in her usual manner, took charge in directing traffic.

"Major," Parker said. "You and Mrs. Rourke will be in the guest room. You can put your luggage 
there." Turning to Jarod's sister, she continued, "Emily, you'll have to camp out on the couch, I'm 
afraid."

"It's very comfortable," Jarod said. "We've only had it for a couple of weeks."

Jarod's mother raised one eyebrow. "You bought a couch?" she asked.

Parker shrugged. "The old one was too short. Jarod likes to sprawl when he watches television."

"Where should I put my things, Miss Parker?" Jack asked. Parker smiled affectionately at the 
young man who looked so much like Jarod. She couldn't help but like Jarod's decades younger 
twin.

Jarod answered the boy's question. "You and Ethan get to sleep in the studio. I bought a couple 
of folding cots and set them up in there."

Parker smiled at her half brother, Ethan, who was looking at her expectantly. "The studio was 
mother's favorite place, Ethan. It was very special."

"I look forward to hearing more about it." Ethan smiled brightly.

"Count on it," Parker promised. The Rourkes were treating Ethan well, Parker knew. The troubled, 
frightened person he had been when they'd first met was slowly easing away. A handsome, 
confident young man was beginning to emerge.

"And where does Jarod sleep?" his mother asked sarcastically.

"Margaret," the Major growled warningly. 

Parker smiled serenely, refusing to rise to the bait. "Jarod sleeps in his room, of course."

The afternoon progressed in much the same manner. Jarod and Parker chatted amiably with his 
family. As he relaxed into the situation better, Jarod and his brothers tossed a football around in 
the yard. Evidently Jack had discovered the game last semester in school, and the boy wanted to 
try out for the team next month. 

Both of the younger men accepted Parker readily. Ethan was her half-brother after all and Jack 
based many of his opinions on what his elder brothers thought. Emily was easily won over with a 
series of embarrassing narratives about Jarod's past. Parker had the young woman in tears of 
laughter when she told the story about the adult bookstore he had worked in.

The Major had been quiet. Serene and observant of the younger people around him, he became 
talkative only when Jarod asked for advice regarding the barbeque scheduled for the next day. 
Much to Parker's amusement, the two men had spent nearly an hour discussing marinades and 
honey mustard sauce.

Jarod's mother finally eased up on the snide remarks when she realized that Parker would not be 
goaded into a fight. The woman was obviously tense but had at least decided to be cordial. 
However, she was not at all happy to discover that Sydney, Broots and Debbie would be joining 
them for the holiday festivities.

Later that evening, Parker headed to her room to get a sweater as the air had turned chilly. When 
she walked through the livingroom, Parker found Jarod's mother standing in front of the mantel, 
gazing at the photographs lining the shelf.

"Is there something I can help you find, Mrs. Rourke?" Parker asked.

Margaret ignored the wry tone in Parker's voice. She held one of the pictures in her hand, 
carefully caressing the image. As Parker leaned closer, she saw that it was one her favorites, the 
picture of her mother holding her baby daughter in her arms.

In a wistful voice, Margaret said, "I knew her, you know." 

"Yes," Parker answered softly.

"We met in college," the older woman said. "Catherine was the sweetest most compassionate 
person I've ever known."

Parker nodded solemnly.

"Her husband destroyed that," Margaret added bitterly. "Between them, they shattered my life."

Parker swallowed hard, but said nothing.

"It was my fault," the older woman whispered. "I'm the one who brought Jarod for a visit. I was so 
proud of him, so eager to show him off to my old friend. If I hadn't come they would never have 
known about his gift. They would never have stolen him from us."

Margaret gazed into nothingness as her eyes filled with tears. "I can never make up for what that 
has done to our family, for the years we have lost. The Major will never get his dead son back. He 
and his first born will always be strangers."

"Don't underestimate Jarod's capacity for love," Parker whispered emotionally. "He will find a way 
to bridge that loss." 

The older woman shook her head. "All I can do now, is protect them as best I can," she said with 
determination. "I will not allow another Parker to destroy him the way your father destroyed 
Catherine."

Carefully placing the photograph back in its spot, Margaret stormed out of the room, leaving 
Parker to stare speechlessly after her.

--

The fourth of July was a bright sun filled day. Jarod and the Major cooked on the barbeque and 
everyone agreed that the food was delicious. Sydney seemed to get along well with Jarod's 
parents, much to Parker's surprise. Conversation was light and the group appeared to be well at 
ease with one another. 

Especially intrigued with each other, Broots and Emily found an easy rapport. When the younger 
girl discovered Broots' profession, the two quickly became involved in a lengthy discussion about 
the computer she was building.

Parker stayed away from Jarod's mother as much as possible, hoping to give the other woman 
time to adjust. But otherwise, the afternoon was a success with plenty of laughter and fun. 

It was late afternoon when Jarod blew passed Parker, keys dangling in one hand. She was sitting 
in a lawn chair on the back porch, sipping iced tea and chatting with Sydney and the Major. 
Ducking in for a quick kiss, Jarod said, "We're out of ice. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Do we have enough soda left?" Parker asked.

"I'll grab another case of Dr. Pepper, just to be sure," he said as he sauntered away.

Thirty minutes had gone by before Parker abruptly realized that Jarod had not yet returned. 

"What's wrong?" Sydney asked, recognizing the anxiety in Parker's face.

With a frown Parker muttered, "Jarod should be back by now."

Stepping quickly into the house, Parker grabbed the phone from the wall in the kitchen and dialed 
Jarod's cellular number. When she heard the high-pitched ring in the next room, Parker slammed 
the receiver down in irritation. She stomped through the house and found the pretender's cell 
phone abandoned on the low table in the foyer.

Sydney, who had followed her from the backyard, said, "I'm sure he's fine. He's been distracted is 
all." 

Jarod's parents joined them. The Major asked, "Is there a problem?"

As if in answer to his question, the doorbell rang. 

Parker felt the blood drain out of her face. Moving as if in slow motion she opened the door, 
revealing a uniformed police officer standing on the steps. 

"Ma'am," the middle-aged slightly round policeman said. "I'm looking for a Miss Parker."

Suddenly feeling as though she was made of cardboard, Parker answered haltingly, "I'm Miss 
Parker."

"I'm sorry to intrude, miss, but do you own a black BMW sedan, license plate CSJ-572?" the 
officer asked.

Parker nodded woodenly.

"What seems to be the trouble, officer?" Sydney asked impatiently.

"There's been an accident." The man said simply. "A driver under the influence ran a stop sign 
and collided with your car, ma'am." He paused for a moment before continuing. "The man driving 
your car had no identification. Would you be able to tell me his name?"

"Jarod," Parker whispered as her body began to tremble. 

The Major stepped forward. "My son, Jarod Rourke, was driving that car officer. Is he all right?"

"He's dead," Parker moaned. "Isn't he?"

Sydney quickly wrapped an arm around Parker's shoulders. Her wide eyes and uncontrollable 
shivering signified the first stages of shock.

The policeman said, "I don't know anything about his current status, miss. They were taking him 
to Mercy Hospital."

"He's dead!" Parker cried again, her voice rising hysterically.

Sydney grabbed her upper arms and shook her gently. "We can't assume that, Parker."

Wide gray eyes, filled with pain, gazed up at Sydney. "They're all dead," she whispered 
frantically. "I killed them all."

"Parker!" Sydney hissed again.

"Get her to the van," the Major urged. "We'll all go to the hospital and find out what's going on."

Trembling violently, Parker moved like an automaton. When the entire troupe piled in to the 
rented minivan, she hardly noticed. She stared dry-eyed through the window as they drove down 
the street. Everyone gasped as they turned a corner and saw Parker's twisted car on the side of 
the road. A tow truck was slowly hauling the ruined vehicle onto a flatbed with a winch. 

Staring at the gnarled hunk of metal and the glass littering the asphalt, Parker felt as though her 
innards had turned to ice. Her shivering abruptly stopped. Her glassy-eyed stare went cold. She 
folded her arms over her chest as something inside her shut down. By the time they had reached 
the hospital, Parker's regal ice queen glare, well used during her days at The Centre, was firmly 
set in place. 

Parker barreled through the emergency room with the icy efficiency of the sweeper she had once 
been. Sydney trailed helplessly behind her with Jarod's family in their wake.

Slapping her palm against the counter at the registration desk, Parker growled, "Jarod Rourke. 
Accident victim. Where is he?"

The young man at the counter, talking rapidly into the phone, glanced up at the group gathered 
there. Shuffling some papers with one hand he found the information he was looking for. Tilting 
the phone receiver away momentarily, he replied, "Corridor B. That way," he pointed.

Parker ignored the chaos of the sick and injured around her. The Fourth was always a busy day 
in the E.R. and this year was no different. Oblivious to the worried group that followed her, Parker 
stalked in the direction she'd been given. 

Slamming through a set of double doors marked with the letter "B", Parker found herself in a wide 
area the size of a small gymnasium. Curtained sections lined each wall and medical equipment 
filled every available space. In some of the cubicles, the curtains were drawn while others were 
open and vacant. 

Parker strode up to the first set of curtains and pulled aside the heavy fabric. She didn't hear the 
strangled gasp Jarod's mother made behind her. The gurney before her contained a shrouded 
body. Without a moment's hesitation, Parker stepped up to the bedside and yanked the sheet 
away.

It wasn't Jarod. The handsome youngster lying on the cot looked to be in his early twenties. His 
body reeked of blood and booze.

A sharp cry of pain sounded from across the room, making them all jump.

Parker recognized the voice and dashed toward it. Throwing back another curtain, she found 
Jarod gasping on a gurney. With one hand he was clutching the metal rail above the bed as a 
man dressed in medical garb probed the opposite shoulder.

"Jarod!" Parker cried.

"I'm okay," he smiled weakly. "I'm okay."

The ball of ice in Parker's stomach shattered into a million pieces. Throwing herself across the 
space that separated them, Parker burst into tears. With his free hand, Jarod held her close, 
caressing her hair tenderly. 

"I'm okay," he whispered in her ear again. "Everything is fine."

"Oh thank God," Margaret gasped, clutching at her husband's arm.

"I'm sorry, but you people can't be here," the doctor said.

"This is my family," Jarod explained.

"How is he?" the Major asked.

The doctor glanced down at his patient and the beautiful woman bawling on his chest. With a 
shrug he said, "Jarod has dislocated his left shoulder. I understand that he suffered a similar 
injury in the past. It is not uncommon for a previously injured joint to pop its socket like that." The 
doctor felt Jarod's shoulder for another moment before saying with a nod, "I think we've put 
everything back were it belongs. His wrist may be broken but I'll need to see the X-rays before I 
know for sure."

The doctor snapped off the latex gloves he was wearing and tucked them into a nearby disposal 
box. "Other than that, he's got some nasty bumps and bruises. He'll be sore tomorrow but he'll 
live."

"Thanks, doc," Jarod said.

With a smile at the lovely weeping girl, the doctor said meaningfully, "You are a lucky man, 
Jarod."

Weaving his fingers through Parker's hair, Jarod nuzzled the top of her head. Grinning in 
agreement he said, "You have no idea."

The doctor left, promising to send a nurse with a sling and a prescription for pain medication. "It 
will be about twenty minutes before I get the results back about that wrist. If the results are 
negative, I can have you out of here within the hour," he said on parting.

Jarod continued to comb the fingers of his good hand through Parker's dark locks as she cried. 

"I thought I'd lost you," she sighed shakily.

"Never," he purred, tucking her head beneath his chin. "You won't be rid of me so easily, Parker. 
We lab rats are the worst kind of pests. We always come back."

Parker laughed tearfully for a moment before breaking into wrenched sobs once more. 

"Sh," Jarod murmured, still stroking her hair. "I'm okay. Don't cry. I'm okay."

Jarod did what he could to calm Parker down. He talked in soft reassuring tones and tucked her 
against him as well as he could in the awkward hospital bed. His shoulder was screaming with 
pain and the trembling of Parker's thin frame against his chest sent needles of fire through the 
torn joint. But Jarod only held the distraught girl closer.

Jarod's abilities as a pretender made it all too easy for him to imagine how Parker was feeling. At 
hearing about the accident, she would have assumed the worst, of course. Fate had often 
handed her the worst possible scenarios in her past. She had no reason to expect anything else.

Long after Parker's tears had dried, Jarod still held her curled against him in the hospital bed. As 
it turned out, Jarod's left wrist was indeed broken. It had taken nearly an hour to set it, mainly 
because he refused to let go of the warm package beside him. Finding a sling to accommodate 
both the dislocated shoulder and the unwieldy cast had also proven a challenge.  

Once Jarod's wounded arm had been adequately strapped against his body, and a minor 
laceration above his eye bandaged, he was released into the care of his waiting family. They 
fussed and fretted over him for the next several hours until, aching and weary, Jarod went to bed. 
There wasn't a muscle in his body that didn't hurt. Even the soft pillow under his head seemed to 
cause pain.

But Jarod's mother designed a makeshift heating pad and wrapped it over his chest and 
shoulder. Emily made him a sandwich because his pain medication had instructions to be taken 
with food. Jarod ate the entire thing even though he wasn't the least bit hungry.  

Parker spent the entire time tucked in the crook of Jarod's good arm, as though she were his 
favorite plush toy. The ordeal had left her nerves shattered and she was more than content to just 
cling to Jarod's side and revel in the warmth of him.

As Jarod drifted to sleep in the comfort of his own bed with the woman of his dreams at his side, 
he thanked whatever deities had looked over his life. He felt that he was a very lucky man, 
indeed.

-

Parker got out of bed just after sunrise. She obviously wasn't going to get back to sleep, so she 
decided to start a pot of coffee. Jarod's prescription had worn off during the night. And though he 
had tried not to disturb her, Parker had woken up when Jarod had tried to squirm out of bed. 
Unable to even sit up on his own, Jarod had moaned pitifully while Parker helped him to the 
bathroom.

Once Jarod had hobbled back to bed, Parker had given him a glass of water and another dose of 
medication. She watched over him, stroking her fingers through his hair, while he fell back into a 
drugged slumber. 

For Parker, sleep had not returned. She had lain awake for hours in one position, fearing that too 
much movement would increase Jarod's discomfort. After checking on him one more time and 
tucking the blankets carefully over his bandaged arm, Parker tiptoed out of the room.

Sneaking quietly passed Emily, asleep on the couch, Parker was startled to find Jarod's mother in 
the kitchen with coffee already brewing in the pot.

"How is he?" the older woman asked quietly.

Parker sat at the table as Jarod's mother poured a second cup of coffee. "He woke up a few 
hours ago. He was really sore and aching, so I gave him another pain pill. I'm sure he'll be out 
cold until noon at least."

"And how are you?" Margaret asked, offering the younger woman a steaming mug.

Parker took the cup and replied automatically, "I'm fine, thank you."

Sitting in the chair beside Miss Parker, Jarod's mother gazed at her skeptically. "Well, you look 
like hell."

Parker blinked in surprise. "Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room for several minutes.

"He loves you very much," Margaret said.

Parker sipped slowly from the hot brew and nodded. "Only God knows why," she murmured 
thoughtfully. 

"I may not know my son very well, Miss Parker," the older woman said kindly. "But I have noticed 
that Jarod rarely does anything without a reason."

"He usually has reasons hidden within reasons," Parker sighed.

There was a long silence that stretched out between the women.

"Sydney was very concerned about you last night," Margaret said abruptly. 

Parker scoffed. "Syd is a shrink. He is always concerned."

Jarod's mother stared intently into her cup for a moment before replying. "Sydney said that you've 
lost many loved ones in your life. And you haven't taken the loss very well."

Parker gaped at the other woman in shock. "Well," she said stonily. "We know where Jarod's 
irritating nosiness comes from, don't we?"

Margaret sighed. "We were all very frightened last night, Miss Parker," she soothed. "But even 
though he was in a lot of pain, Jarod's only concern was for you. He barely tolerated the rest of 
us."

Parker, not knowing what to say, silently sipped from her mug.

"Then again," Margaret said. "I can't blame him. You were quite distraught."

Gripping her cup tightly enough to turn her knuckles white, Parker grimaced at the pitifully weak 
display she must have made. "I apologize," she whispered. "I should have controlled my reaction 
much better. I was caught off guard."

The older woman gazed at her wisely. "Is it such a terrible thing to let others see how you feel 
about him?"

Parker flinched.

Margaret sighed. Reaching one hand out to rest gently over Parker's, she said, "Forgive me, Miss 
Parker. I have misjudged you."

Parker frowned in confusion. 

"I had assumed that your attitude reflected a personality like your father's," Jarod's mother said. 
"You seemed to be the epitome of the Parker legacy. But that isn't the case, is it?" she asked 
softly. "You have always been your mother's daughter, trapped in the Parker world."

Swallowing over the lump that had formed in her throat, Parker stared wordlessly at the smooth 
wooden tabletop.

"It must have been very lonely for you," Margaret supposed.  

"Sometimes," Parker's whisper was barely audible. "Jarod was the only one I could turn to. The 
only one to trust."

"He needs you, you know," Margaret said, leaning forward in order to see Parker's lowered eyes. 
"You take care of him, look after him in a way that Zoë couldn't."

"We need each other," Parker said looking warily up at the older woman.

Margaret smiled brightly. "Yes, dear. I'm beginning to see that." After a moment she asked, "Do 
you think you could learn to forgive a stubborn old woman?"

Parker smiled waveringly. "Only if you promise to tell me about my mother. I want to learn more 
about the woman that you knew."

Margaret's grin widened. "And I want to learn about my son, the boy he was, and the man he has 
become."

"Deal," Parker said, extending her hand. 

The two women solemnly shook hands. 

Over the next couple of days, Parker's earlier statement came true. Jarod's mother learned to 
love her. And Parker didn't threaten to break any bones at all. 

-

End Part 3



CHAPTER 4



Mr. and Mrs. Jarod Rourke
Invite you to share in the joy of celebration
 at the christening
of their daughter
Angela Catherine
Sunday, September eighteenth,
Two thousand four
at ten o'clock 
First Evangelical Church
1124 Springsdale Road
Blue Cove, Delaware




The End
  

    Source: geocities.com/phenyx525@sbcglobal.net