Disclaimer: We all know the drill. Pretender is owned by MTM and NBC the storis owned by me. Copyrighted 4/2/99 TMJ

Rating: PG

Parker tiptoed down the hallway, quietly, trying not to make a sound. She didn't want to wake her husband. If he knew she was unable to sleep, he would jump to the wrong conclusion. She had some unfinished business to attend to and it was best completed alone. She reached the door to the room that held memories of her mother. She switched on the small table lamp and made herself comfortable on the window seat. Journal in hand, she gazed out the window, staring into the starry black-velvet night, gathering the thoughts floating around her head. Finally, she put pen to the paper and wrote:

DEAR MOM,

I miss you so very much. I really need you more than ever, especially after all that's happened in my life. I hope that by putting my thoughts to paper, that I will feel closer to you. I have so much to live for and to be grateful for, now. I know that was not always true, I remember those days when I had hardened my heart and hid my ability to love anyone. All those nights, all those long lonely years when I cried and screamed in rage. Did you heat my anger? Did you listen to the hurt in my voice? Like when you were taken from me. I was to young to ask questions and those I did went unanswered and yet some were bold faced lies. I prayed that it was all a bad dream, that you would walk into this room and read to me from LITTLE WOMEN. Then, I let them mold me into someone you would have dispised, Mom. A Centre drone.

All those nights that I called for you, demanding answers, even cursing because everything I was lead to beleive was so misguided. I remember sitting in bed, screaming for some sign that things would be alright. After a while, I stopped believing or caring, because there were no answers, only half truths. The Centre's, my father's. Then one day, there was an answer. Only it didn't come in a way I expected it too. It was in my life when you were taken from me. Then I changed and looked at it with disdain. The sign came in the form of a wonderful, handsome and at times a totally aggravating man, who set about to change me. Help me. Show me the way back to who I should have been. I didn't realize you had sent him to me, yet slowly understanding came. You pushed us together. In time, I started to see my questions answered. I found the truth about it all. You , me, the Centre, and him. Then I realized that I loved him. Always did, it was buried so deep that I just forgot. I love him even more, now.

The day he asked me to be his wife, I wanted you there with me. To share in my happiness. The loneliness in my life was lifted and I began to believe in miracles, again.

When he slipped the ring on my finger, when he told me he loved me, when he kissed me, I was blessed. Yet, I wanted you here in church to share in my joy. We finished what you began, Mom. Him and I. Its destroyed,gone. The children are free and so are we, finally. I hope you are proud of me.

You aren't finished with us though, are you? The proof of that is here growing under my heart. Soon you will be a grandmother but you are not here to see this little treasure. This is proof that you are still with me. Yet, I'm scared, Mom. I want you with me, to show me how to be a good mother. He says that I will be fine because I had you, if only for a short period of time. With that said, I best get back to bed or Jarod will wonder where I've gone. Mom, I love you and I believe that you are watching over me. Over us. Thank you for everything. Thank you for giving me life, for loving me, and for Jarod.

I love you. Always.

Your Loving Daughter,
M Parker Russell

Placing her pen on the table and the journal on the window seat, Parker returns to the master bedroom. Jarod's asleep, his breathing soft and steady. She eases her cumbersome body into the spot she vacated earlier and feels his arms embrace the child that is growing under her heart. Parker smiles contently, letting sweet dreams invade her slumber.

The next morning, Parker goes to retrieve the jounal from the window seat. Not finding it there, she presumes that Jarod put it back on her nightstand. Turning to leave, she feels a contraction rack her frame. Calling to Jarod, she misses the tiny white feather that flutters to the floor as she sinks down allowing the pain to pass.

The End!