A Moment of Thought
Miss Parker fixed herself a martini and curled up on her couch. The fire roaring before her was calm and comforting. The last time she had used her fireplace was when Tommy died. She pulled her quilt up closer to her chin and closed her eyes in pain. She allowed the memories of him to wash over her. His smile, his smell, the comfort of his arms, washed over her. Parker swayed from the power of it.
She took a sip of her drink and set it down. The past five years had been some of the hardest of her life. Jarod's escape from the Centre had opened up a whole new meaning of life for her. He had helped her to uncover some of the secrets of her past that she had never even known that had been there.
He had helped her learn the truth about her mother's death, about what her mother was really doing at the Centre. He had helped her to learn about the existence of Lyle and Ethan, her brothers. She had learned to truth about Jarod's presence in the Centre, about what the Centre was really about, all the things she had questioned in the past and then forgotten about.
Forgotten, there were many things Miss Parker had forgotten. In her years of working in Corporate she had forgotten compassion; she had forgotten how to love, and even how to be a friend. Jarod had awakened all those things inside of her. Working with Broots and Sydney had helped to reclaim a part of who she was, of who she really was.
Jarod had been right, she wasn't her father, but she also knew she wasn't her mother. She had her mother's ability for compassion and for love, surely, but she failed to use them. Her father, during his better moments, also could be compassionate and loving but he chose not to use them, just has Miss Parker did.
She took another sip of her drink and wondered what Jarod was up too. They had left Carthis several months ago and with the exception of that first call since their return, neither she nor Sydney had heard a word from him in nearly six months. Not a phone call, not a package in the mail, nothing; if it wasn't for the trial of red notebooks she and Sydney had been following she'd have been worried that something had happened to him.
Despite herself, Parker found herself yearning for that next call. Jarod was the one thing that kept her balance above all others. He kept her on track, even when he was throwing her off track. Parker wondered if he was any closer to finding his finding his mother, any closer to finding the truth.
Parker wondered what connection Jarod's mother has to her mother. How they had met, how they had traveled to Carthis, and the events that had transpired there. Where was Ethan? The brother she shared with Jarod was missing. Of his own accord or of the Centre's she was uncertain.
Parker curled her legs up beneath her and stared hard into the flames of her fireplace. As much as she hated to admit it, she was grateful for Jarod's escape and grateful for his place in her life. He had brought her back down to Earth. She had loved him ever since she was eleven years old and he her, but despite his feelings he had brought Thomas into her life. He had shown her how to love again, even if it wasn't him.
She knew that Jarod too had found love out in the real world. Despite their love for others Parker knew, and she hated to admit it, even to her own silent secret thoughts, that they would never be able to spend their lives with others or with each other. Her job was to chase him and his was to run.
She was grateful for Jarod's escape for many reasons and yet somehow with each passing day she found herself forcing herself to chase him, to hunt him down, to put up this image of distrust. Despite her outward appearance, she trusted Jarod more than anyone else. More than her father, more than Broots, even more than Sydney. He had been the only one to ever be truly honest with her, to never hide anything from her.
Her father had lied to her, her entire life. Even Sydney had lied to her about her mother's death. Sydney had known things for many years and never confessed them to Parker. Jarod, despite her lack of help with his secret past, he had always helped her with his.
Parker leaned over and out of the drawer of the desk she pulled out a book, The Saddest Little Valentine by Jarod Hart. Parker both smiled and grimaced inside as she studied the cover art. That was nearly three years ago, Parker reminded herself. Even then he had been trying to tell her how he had felt. She had known, always known, but blocked out those feelings. She was trying to survive.
She had tried to fix the mistakes she had made with Jarod by helping his clone to escape the fate the Centre had in store for him. She didn't want what had happened to Jarod, her only childhood friend, to happen to that boy. Jarod truly had been her only friend as a child, when she went to the Catholic school her mother had picked out for her.
After her mother's death, Mr. Parker had sent his daughter to a nearby public school in Blue Cove until halfway through her junior year. Her father then sent her to the best private schools in Europe. Even then she knew it had something to do with Jarod. Everything in her life always did.
Her thoughts then drifted to those years in public school. She had had her first boyfriend her freshman year of high school. He had been very handsome and very popular. He had even been the captain of the football team. Parker shook her head at the thought and took yet another drink, it was stereotypical, she knew.
She had once told Sydney all of things she had regretted and that had been one of her regrets. She had dated the boy for nearly year and had broken it off after he had told her she was the one. He had been very good to her and although she didn't know it then it had something to do with her mother's death. She had slowly been detaching herself from her emotions. It was that detachment that kept her from attending her prom and from staying friends with Jarod.
Once again her thoughts wandered to her job, to Jarod. "The always do," she whispered. Even Sydney knew that her thoughts revolved around Jarod. It was never necessarily about her job, more often than not it was about her emotions.
Parker then drew her thoughts inward. Her mother had found love outside the Centre. She had taken a lover in Maine, Ben Miller. Parker had found a good friend in Benjamin Miller. He had understood the portion of her mother than Parker barely knew and yet somehow had understood, even as a child.
Parker opened up the first page of Jarod's book and read the first few sentences:
She was consumed by the forces around her. Her emotions of love and compassion were gone. Yet there he was, a man she both hated a loved, the ultimate source of her pain and the ultimate source of her love. He and he alone would be her destroyer and her savior. He and he alone was her darkness and her light at the end of the tunnel.
Parker slowly closed the book. Jarod was a beautiful writer. He was beautiful at everything he did. He was her pain and her love. He was her darkness and her light. The whole book seemed based off of their relationship of pain and love, of trust and distrust.
Her mother had tried to save Jarod, Angelo, and herself. She wondered what would have happened if her mother had succeeded. Would she have found Jarod's parents in order to return him to his family? She wondered if Angelo would have been raised as her brother and if they would have lived a happy life in Europe. Would she and Jarod have remained in contact?
The questions plagued her mind and Parker looked at her phone longingly, willing him to call. Which, of course, she knew would not happen. Parker slid deeper into her couch. She once more opened up Jarod's book, flipped it open, and began to read.
THE END