Chapter Nine – What to Be Thankful For ...

For the second time that day, Jarod was shaken awake. Once he was more alert, Miss Parker rattled off a set of instructions. "Jarod, Sydney'll be here in about an hour. I need you to keep an eye on the mashed potatoes and the turkey. When it's done, could you make the gravy?" Jarod had barely opened his mouth when Miss Parker decided to charge ahead. "Okay, I'm going to set the table, and then I'll go shower and get dressed up. I'll come for you when I'm done."

With that, she left a very confused Jarod in the kitchen.

As promised, Miss Parker allowed Jarod some time to himself, during which she transferred different dishes to more presentable bowls and plates. By the time he was done, the table itself looked like it was anticipating dinner, which was waiting in the kitchen and looked like it was anticipating being presented on a table. On the way to his room, Miss Parker checked her self in a mirror: she was wearing a light blue blouse and a long thin blue skirt of a darker shade, with comfortable heels. It was neither too flashy nor too casual and she was satisfied.

Jarod, on the hand, she was far from satisfied with. He was dressed in a white flannel shirt and un-matching black sweatpants. "Don't you have anything nice to wear?" she asked.

Rummaging through the remainder of his clothes, Jarod says, "Well, I have these..." He showed Miss Parker a set of dress pants.

"Those are good. Put those on." The doorbell rang; Miss Parker turned to leave as she yelled over her shoulder. "Hurry!"

She opened the door and greeted Sydney with a smile. "Come in, Sydney, come in."

With a nod, Sydney returned the greeting as he stepped inside. "Thank you, Miss Parker. It's nice to see you well and away from The Centre."

Hanging his coat and putting away his umbrella. His back was turned for but a second. It was enough time, however, for Jarod to appear by Miss Parker's side. "Hello, Sydney," he said with a grin.

"Hello, Jarod," Sydney returned as he shook Jarod's hand. "It's nice to see you up and about." Then, taking the two of them at a glance, he was surprised to see the peculiar way they looked like a couple.

"Um, Sydney," Miss Parker said ash she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and as Sydney gave himself a mental shake to clear his head. "You've got about three hours to kill before dinner, so you can spend some time catching up with Jarod. I've got things to do, and I'll join you later."

"All right," Sydney said and took a seat in a chair situation in front of and to the right of a couch.

Taking a seat across from Sydney, Jarod asked him nonchalantly, "How are you?"

Sydney replied, "I'm feeling very good today, actually. How are you?"

Responding frankly, his protégé said, "I miss the sun."

"I gather she doesn't let you out often." Sydney said. Glancing out the window, he asked, "Why don't you just walk out?"

Cracking a grin, Jarod said, "Then she'd have two reasons to shoot me: running away from The Centre and ruining her Thanksgiving."

Although he was laughing politely, Sydney knew there was something Jarod was not saying. He opened his mouth to comment when Miss Parker decided to join their company. Taking a seat extremely close to Jarod, she asked, "So what are the men talking about?"

Jarod looked at Miss Parker uncomfortably, as if willing her to move a little further down. He fidgeted once, but did not say anything. Sydney saw the break in character and sent the conversation in a brand new direction. "We were just commenting on how good you look tonight." A little more pointedly, he added, "Isn't that right, Jarod?"

Quick on the uptake as usual, he smoothly replied, "A fine force of feminine fatale."

Hiding her surprise at Jarod's complimenting her, Miss Parker gave him a playful shove, which he took with shock and good nature. "You're just sucking up," she complained.

Feigning innocence, he replied, "No, I'm telling the truth." He held up two fingers and crossed them. "Scout's honor."

Forcing Jarod's hand down onto his knee, Miss Parker accused, "You can't do that! You were never a scout!"

"Does staying at the 'Y' count?" he asked.

She laughed and challenged. "You're going to have to do better than that."

Although Sydney was effectively left out of the verbal sparring, he harbored no ill will. It was nice to see both of them lay aside their differences for one day. And the part of him that wasn't musing on how interesting this would be as an experiment was overcome with emotion. He'd known Jarod and Miss Parker far too long to be merely friends. Among social relations, it was often nurture over nature. Jarod was yet to know Major Charles well and Miss Parker would probably never accept Mr. Raines. So as yet, he could continue to think of himself as their father.

With two hours to kill before the dinner started, Sydney, Jarod, and Miss Parker began a game of Monopoly. Sydney played as a hat; Jarod, a cowboy; and Miss Parker a thimble. Also acting as a banker, Jarod was wont to break into accents when either Sydney or Miss Parker landed in Jail, which frustrated her to no end. Jarod himself never went to Jail; instead, he took an early lead in the game by securing all four railroads, both utility companies, and Boardwalk and Park Place. It was only when he evaded the Luxury Tax once again did Miss Parker decided she would roll for Jarod, whom she accused of manipulating the dice. He pretended to sulk, and did a good job of it, and argued when Miss Parker broke his streak and caused him to land in Jail.

"You did that on purpose!" he accused.

"You landed on Boardwalk on purpose," she retorted.

In an attempt to stop the bickering, Sydney said, "Come now, Miss Parker, you know Jarod wasn't cheating." Jarod smirked. "And Jarod, it's high time you landed in Jail!"

Miss Parker laughed. Jarod, indignant, attacked him. "Hey! I thought you were on my side!"

Also laughing, Sydney returned, "Maybe you shouldn't have set up a hotel on Park Place until I passed 'Go'!"

Eventually the incident was smoothed over, and the game continued. It was 6:30 by the time Miss Parker had to quit the game, having landed on Marvin Gardens onto many times. (Like Boardwalk and Park Place, Jarod had also managed to furbish Marvin Gardens with a hotel after buying Ventnor Avenue from Sydney at the exorbitant price if $5000.) She sold what she could to pay Jarod, then willed the rest of her property to Sydney. Now the doctor had enough property to rival Jarod but since Miss Parker was out of the game, he was able to roll his own dice and began winning once more. The game ended when Sydney landed on St. James Place for the last time. In the spirit of the graceful loser, he shook Jarod's hand. "That was fun, wasn't it, Jarod?"

The protégé smiled. "Yeah, it was."

Then, lowering his voice in the manner of a co-conspirator, Sydney asked him, "Now tell me the truth: Did you or did you not manipulate the dice?"

Grinning mischievously, he answered, "What do you think?"

Sydney was still uncertain of the validity of their Monopoly game when Miss Parker burst in on them again. "If you gentlemen are done with the game, you may follow me to the dining room." As suddenly as she appeared, she left.

Jarod was not wont to leave the table on which he was playing haphazardly covered in Monopoly pieces and left only when Sydney told him, "We can take care of it later."

Miss Parker was waiting for them, hovering around the table she had lavishly set during the half hour prior. The placement of the dishes revealed her aesthetic sense, a side of her Jarod had never seen before. But then again, neither had he ever seen her so nervous, as if she thought everything would start going wrong. Compassionate as he was, he tried to comfort her, saying, "Relax, Miss Parker. Everything will go well," as he guided her into a chair.

"Alright ... if you say so," she murmured distractedly.

Coming around, he pulled a seat for Sydney at the end of the table, and ever the distinguished patrician he accepted it. Then continuing, he took the last seat, which was across from Miss Parker. Then, unsure of what to do, he asked, "Now what?"

Taking charge, Sydney commented, "Well, ever since the first Thanksgiving, it has been customary to say a grace before the meal." Miss Parker and Jarod gave each other perplexed glances, which Sydney noticed. "And since it looks like neither of you are very comfortable with this task, I'll do it. Just bow you head and close your eyes."

As they did so, he proceeded. "Our Father, in heaven ..." Jarod could tell that Sydney was unpracticed by the way he prayed. On the other side of the table, Miss Parker chuckled to herself, reflecting on the irony of the situation.

When the prayer was over, Sydney instructed Jarod to carve the turkey, and then the young man took over from there. All unfamiliar things, Thanksgiving included, are easier to continue once they are started.

No one took enormous helpings of anything – except possibly the turkey – because there was so much of everything else. Making small talk, Sydney complimented Miss Parker: "Everything tastes wonderful."

Smiling, she corrected modestly. "Thanks, but Jarod helped, too." Then, catching the look in his eye, she added. "A lot."

Sydney took this to mean that he had done most of the cooking.

Over the course of the dinner, many bowls and plates were scraped clean. In the end, all that was left were a couple of biscuits, some slices of pumpkin pie, an ear of corn, a yam, and some turkey, as well as anything had that hadn't been scraped off, and all of them were more than satiated.

"That was the best Thanksgiving I've had in years," Sydney remarked as he set his spoon down.

"Mmm-hmm," Miss Parker agreed, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

Jarod, having no frame of reference, said, "It was very good."

Pushing his chair away from the table, Sydney asked, "So what do we do now?"

"We could play a game of some sort," Jarod suggested. He had enjoyed Monopoly.

"Alright," Miss Parker conceded. "Sydney, can you find a board game Jarod hasn't discovered yet while we clear the table?"

"Of course," he said as Jarod got up to assist Miss Parker. Sydney left to clear up the old and set up a new game.

They exchanged few words while cleaning the table, and it was only when Miss Parker let it out that he'd be cleaning every single one of the pots and pans the next day did anybody start talking.

"Don't you have a dishwasher of some sort?" he asked, trying to get out of the task.

"Nope," she said airily. "I eat out too often. Never saw the need for one." Jarod sighed heavily. "Just think of it as another pretend. Today you were Jarod the chef. Tomorrow you'll be Jarod the dishwasher."

"Very funny."

They came upon Sydney in the living room. "What's funny?" he wanted to know.

Jarod scowled. "My pretend as her butler."

Miss Parker, meanwhile, had surveyed the table and wasn't pleased. "Clue?"

"In my defense, the older other games you had were chess and Battleship," he retorted, "and at least dice don't have to do with game play."

The other man joined them at the table. "What's Clue?"

Throwing the rulebook at Jarod to read, she turned to Sydney and quipped, "But a game of logic?"

"Good point," Sydney conceded, but drew up a chair for himself and Miss Parker nevertheless. "Please sit," he said as he gestured the chair, "Unless you'd rather help Jarod work on his puzzle?"

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she declined. "I'll take the board game, thank you. He's nearly halfway done with the jigsaw."

"Already?" he murmured.

"Yeah, well a giant Puzz-3D would have lasted him longer."

"Then he wouldn't be able to finish it."

And Miss Parker was reminded yet again of Sydney's contradicting roles as Jarod's guardian, their friend, and reluctant agent of The Centre.

After re-reading some of the regulations of the board game, Jarod set them aside and alerted them haltingly, "I think I get it."

"Then you know I go first," Miss Parker said as she rolled her dice and advanced her red token in to the Library.

The game proceeded in like fashion with Jarod becoming more adept as each of his turns went by. His extremely logical mind allowed him to keep track of the cards his opponents held without using a detective pad and soon he was making misleading suggestions of his own. It wasn't long before Sydney, relying on one of the false hints, made a wrong accusation. Soon after that, Jarod also made an accusation – Miss Peacock in the Ballroom with the Candlestick – and won the game.

Throwing down her cards, Miss Parker said, exasperated, "Isn't there anything you're not good at?"

Jarod turned to face her; she was just a little peeved, so it wouldn't hurt to toy with her. "I don't know," he said truthfully. His talents had always served him with they needed him.

Curiosity piqued by the answer, she asked, "Come on, Syd, Jarod isn't perfect. What are his weaknesses?"

Following his protégé's lead, the doctor replied, "He's always risen to the challenge."

Sighing, she remarked, "Neither of you are very helpful." After awhile, she guessed, "Horseback riding?"

"Nope."

"Writing music?"

"Dunno; never tried."

"Dancing."

"I could learn."

"Rubik's cubes."

"Nope."

"Tic-Tac-Toe."

"Huh?"

Miss Parker demonstrated a game with Sydney, losing intentionally so that Jarod could get the point. After murmuring a soft, "Oh," he said, "Nope."

Trying another childhood game, she suggested, "Rock, Paper, Scissors."

Not knowing what she was talking about, he repeated, "Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

Shaping her hand into a fist, she said, "This is rock, which beats scissors – " She held up two fingers. "Scissor cuts paper – " She opened her hand. "And paper beats rock."

"How?"

"Don't ask me. It just does," a remark to which Sydney chuckled.

"Alright," Jarod said. "I get it."

Rolling up her sleeves, Miss Parker grinned. "Get ready. I was really good at this when I was little."

Each of their first plays was paper, but the game rapidly became ferocious. Jarod took it all in good nature, but sometimes Miss Parker's moved surprised him. She as very good at picking out his thought patterns and kept outwitting him.

The tables turned in the middle of the game, and Miss Parker started losing. Finally, when she'd had enough, she quit. Sydney, who had been keeping tally mentally remarked, "That's funny. You've tied."

Rubbing it in, Jarod added, "But if we'd kept going, I would have won."

"Would not," Miss Parker disagreed.

"Would too," her opponent insisted.

It was a part of their lives they'd both missed out on, Sydney noted: childish games and childish arguments. It also struck him as odd that Miss Parker had nearly beaten Jarod in a face to face game of strategy. Almost, but not quite.

And he remembered that she had also been tested for the genetic predisposition that marked Pretenders. Perhaps it was only her mother's intervention that had saved her. Without that crucial factor, she would have suffered the same fate Jarod did. And as their arguing turned to verbal sparring once more, Sydney realized the two were more alike than they thought.

Sydney left much later that night, and Miss Parker reminded Jarod of his captivity soon after that. She went to bed in good humor.

Miss Parker didn't go to The Centre the rest of the holiday weekend. Indeed, she rarely left home at all, save for the occasional errand or to buy the daily newspaper. Jarod had asked to be kept up to date in the latest events, and indulging him with a fifty-cent newspaper was the easiest way.

She hadn't been so carefree since her time with Thomas. A lot of her time was spent lounging or watching Jarod. Although it was quiet sometimes, there were no awkward silences; they were as comfortable as old friends.