Title: True Reflection of Love
Author: Nicky ([email protected])
Rating: PG
Category/Keywords: JOR, JMPF/R
Summary: Jarod tells Miss Parker a story that changes her views of herself, her world, and her perception of love.
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Book I: True Reflection of Love
Chapter 1
Why? Why her? Why was it always her? Bad stuff just seemed to find her. No matter where she was or what she was doing. Something was always broken in her house or with the car or with anything she touched. When she finally gets her hot water heater fixed, the pipes burst. When she gets the pipes fixed something else malfunctions in the house. But this. This takes the cake. This wasn't even her car and already it was betraying her.
"Do you think you'll be able to fix it?" she impatiently asks the mechanic standing in front of her. "I have some place to be. People will be waiting for me."
"I'm sure I can fix it," the mechanic assures her. "It might take awhile, though. I'm kind of backed up today. Can't you just call the rental place and have them tow this one and send you another one?"
"Good thinking . . . Clyde," she says sarcastically with a little pause after taking a second to read his name tag. "That wasn't the first thought that occurred to me at all. Actually, I think I'd prefer being stuck in this little hick town while this piece of junk rental car gets repaired." She scowls at him, suddenly sending a wave of fear down his spine. She notices the man's obvious terror and takes a small amount of pleasure in that fact.
"Well you don't have to be so mean about it," Clyde says after gathering his courage back. "That kind of attitude isn't going to make me get to you any quicker."
Miss Parker scowls again. But this time it's because the mechanic is right. She was pretty much at his mercy.
"I'm sorry," she says in a gentler tone and adds a fake smile. "Force of habit. I'm used to being tough and getting my way. Now, about the car. Do you think you can get that done today? I'm just passing through your lovely town on my way to somewhere else. And I really need to get there."
"Okay," the mechanic relents. "It should be ready by early evening. Come back around six."
"Thanks," she says sweetly, waiting until after she puts on her sunglasses to roll her eyes at pretend niceness she had to offer. She then turns and walks out the door, stepping out into main square of the tiny town.
She decides to just walk around awhile, taking in the everyday life of the locals. She'd find a place to have an early dinner, and then hopefully make it back here to pick up the car. This little pit stop might not be as unpleasant as she had originally thought.
The happy sounds of children playing captures her attention and she starts to walk towards them. She walks about two blocks before she discovers a playground at the bottom of a hill. She goes down, inexplicably drawn to their giggles and shrieks of joy. Usually such noise gave her an immediate headache and made her race to her doctor to refill her birth control pills prescription. But today it was oddly soothing. Seeing the children so carefree. Having fun the way children should. Having the kind of fun that she never could.
She saw children of all shapes and sizes. All colors and nationalities. Playing together and not noticing their differences. There were older boys, playing basketball on a court across the yard. Boys with brown skin. Boys with white skin. And boys with all the varying shades in between. And there were smaller children, chasing each other in the grass, some calling to each other in Spanish. Some speaking Chinese. Some speaking English. This one little girl was chasing a butterfly. She had a creamy, light brown complexion and a head full of braids with colorful beads on the ends. Her deep chocolate eyes widened in amazement every time the butterfly fluttered it's wings. The really small ones were playing in a sandy area, close to the benches where the parents looked on. Parents and . . .someone else she never expected to see.
"Jarod," she whispers, ducking behind a tree before he can see her. Was it really him or were her eyes playing tricks on her? She peeks around the tree to get a better look at him, but is surprised to see that his spot on the bench is now empty. Her eyes roam the entire park before she finally spots him walking down the street. From her vantage point, she can only see his head, but she's sure it's him. The dark hair. The dark, troubled eyes. It was Jarod. She could just feel it.
By the time she reaches the street, he's heading into a house about a block and a half away. A good sized house. Not too big. Not too small. It looked really comfortable. Like a home. It fit in perfectly with the other houses lining both sides of the street. Perfect little houses each surrounded by a perfect little white picket fence. The perfect place to blend in and get lost, which is what she assumed Jarod was trying to do. But she managed to catch up to him. Quite by accident, but she's still found him. At least, she thinks she's found him. She only sees the back of him as the door closes behind him, but she's still sure it's him.
She waits a few minutes before going up to the house. She tries to come up with a plan of attack, but all thoughts fail her. All she can think to do is ring the doorbell. And wait until he comes to the door. After that, she'll figure it all out.
The door opens and Miss Parker is surprised to see a face other than Jarod staring at her.
"May I help you?" an older woman asks. She was older. About 60, maybe even 70, Miss Parker guessed. With white hair forming a crown around her dark face. And eyes that danced with smile, even though they were staring at an unknown visitor.
"I'm sorry," Miss Parker apologizes, suddenly flustered. She wasn't expecting to see anyone other than Jarod. "I was looking for a man. He was just at the park down the street."
"You mean Jarod? Come on in," the old woman invites. She holds the door open for Miss Parker and waits patiently for her to enter the house. "He's upstairs taking care of something right now. He'll be down in a minute. Please. Have a seat."
Miss Parker graciously accepts her host's hospitality. As if she had a choice. She didn't want to alarm anyone as to her true intentions. Besides, she got the feeling that she couldn't refuse the old woman anything.
"My name's Deidre Nelson. But everyone around here just calls me Miss Dee." She offers a hand to Miss Parker to shake, giving her a silent invitation to introduce herself.
"Miss Parker. Everyone calls me Miss Parker."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Parker," the woman says, emphasizing the 'Miss' with a kind of mocking tone.
"Actually, you don't have to call me that," Miss Parker says, with a shocking change of heart that surprises even herself. It just didn't sound right having the woman call her 'Miss' anything. For some reason, this woman's presence commanded respect. And Miss Parker suddenly feels as if she doesn't deserve her respect. "You can call me Tori."
"Tori," Miss Dee repeats, flashing a huge smile that Miss Parker immediately takes a liking to. Almost an approving glance that she never gets from anyone these days. Especially the people whose approval means the most to her. Like Sydney. Her father. And even Lyle. "A lovely name for a lovely young woman."
"Thank you," Miss Parker says quietly as a blush starts to warm her cheeks. And she feels herself smiling despite her tough-as-nails exterior. This woman has known her for all of three minutes, and already she was making Miss Parker feel human. Like she was actually worthy of love and respect. This woman was doing what no one else could do. She was melting the icy shell surrounding Miss Parker's heart. She started to feel a lot of things. But mostly guilt because of her true reasons for being there. Suddenly, the idea of capturing Jarod like a sitting duck didn't sound so appealing after all.
"You know, I can always come back some other time. If Jarod's busy," Miss Parker says, trying to find any excuse to get out of the house. She stands up and starts to walk to the door. But her path is unexpectedly blocked by a blinding flash rushing past her. She looks, but all she can hear are little feet pounding the floor. She sees Miss Dee get up and walk towards the breathless giggles coming from under the coffee table.
"IMANI VICTORIA NELSON! Get back here now, young lady," a familiar male voice suddenly booms, scaring Miss Parker and making her drop her sunglasses.
She kneels down to pick them up, reaching out a shaky hand to grab them when she comes face to face with the little girl from the park who was chasing the butterfly. The little girl flashes her a sweet smile that instantly turns her heart to mush. Instead of the sunglasses in her hands, she ends up with the little girl in her arms, gently wriggling her out from the tiny hiding place. She takes a deep breath before finally standing up to face the music.
"I believe this is what you were looking for," Miss Parker says to the stunned man standing across the room. She holds out the child and he crosses the room in two long strides to collect her.
"What are you doing here, Miss Parker?" he asks grimly.
"Jarod," Miss Dee scolds. "That's no way to treat a guest. Now, I have some errands to run before heading home. Why don't you let me take this little lady with me while you and your friend have a nice visit."
"That's alright. I was trying to put her down for a nap anyway. You go out and enjoy yourself. We'll be fine," Jarod assures.
"Okay, then. I'll see you. Imani, come give Granny a kiss good-bye," she calls to the young girl.
Jarod sets her down and lets her run to Miss Dee's arms, never once taking him eyes off Miss Parker. What was she doing there? More importantly, how did she find him? And what did she know about the situation?
"Bye, Jarod. Bye, Tori," Miss Dee says before shutting the door behind her.
"Tori?" Jarod asks curiously, momentarily forgetting that his huntress was standing before him. "You told her your name? I'm shocked."
"Me too. But it didn't seem right. Having her call me 'Miss Parker'. I don't know what it is, but I just got the feeling that I would have to earn respect from her, not demand it."
They both smile and think favorably about Miss Dee, while sharing a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod sees Imani, wandering around and goes to scoop her up into his protective arms. And just then he's reminded of the seriousness of the situation at hand. He holds her close to his chest and she wraps her little arms around his neck.
"I just ask one thing," he says hoarsely, his voice suddenly marred with tears. "Let me have the rest of the night with her. And then take me far from here before you call the sweepers. I don't want to put her or Miss Dee in any danger. No one can know about them."
She looks at the anguish on his face and that guilty feeling starts to rise up again from the pit of her stomach. These people were obviously important to him. Important enough for him to give up his freedom. What she didn't know was why.
"Why, Jarod?" she asks curiously, trying to push the sick feeling gnawing away at her insides. "What's going on here? Who is this little girl? And why are you doing everything you can to protect her?"
He gives Miss Parker a cryptic smile while crossing the room to sit on the sofa. He sets Imani securely on his lap and offers Miss Parker a seat.
"Why don't you sit down, Miss Parker," he says. "Because this is going to be a long story."
Chapter 2
"Why don't you sit down, Miss Parker," he says. "Because this is going to be a long story."
"Who is this little girl, Jarod?" Miss Parker asks again, waiting patiently as Jarod takes a deep breath and begins his tale.
"This is Imani. Imani Victoria Nelson. She's my daughter," he says after a long silence. He looks at Miss Parker and can see that she's completely shocked.
"Daughter?" she manages to squeak out. "She's your daughter?" She's stunned. But she looks closer and can see it. Despite the obvious differences, she could see the resemblance. Looking beyond Jarod's pale skin against Imani's brown skin, Miss Parker could see where the two were related. They had the same deep, brown eyes that could stare into your soul. And when the little girl smiled, she could see the same cocky grin that Jarod has flashed at her more times than she can remember. But more than anything, she could see between them what really connected a girl to her father, even beyond the bonds of genetics. She could see the way that they looked at each other with complete adoration and devotion. It was what love looked like. Something she never saw from Mr. Parker.
"It's nice to meet you, Imani," Miss Parker says to the child after recovering a bit from the initial shock. "I love your name. It's so pretty. Just like you." She smiles at the little girl and playfully pokes at her nose.
"Thank you," Imani giggles. "I'm a namesteak," she says proudly. "Daddy named me after someone he knowed a long, long time ago."
"It's Name-SAKE, Sweetie," Jarod gently corrects the little girl. "Not name-STEAK."
"Oh, yeah. Namesake. He said she stoled his heart and never gave it back. But he gave me her name because he was so happy to have me. He said it was like Mommy was giving him his heart back when she had me." Imani ends her story with a big smile, so proud at herself at remembering the history behind her name.
"Guess what, Imani? This is that friend I was telling you about. This is who you're named after," Jarod says, looking at Miss Parker to judge her reaction.
"Really?" Imani exclaims with wide eyes. "We have the same name?"
"That's right. My name's Victoria, too. But let's keep this our secret, okay? Nobody knows my name except for you and your daddy," Miss Parker whispers.
"Okay," Imani whispers back to Miss Parker. She climbs off of Jarod's lap and into Miss Parker's, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. "Now that we have the same name, that means we're pals. Daddy, can I go up and draw a picture for my new friend?"
"Of course, Honey. Don't make a mess, though."
"Okay, Daddy," Imani says as she jumps off Miss Parker's lap and runs up the stairs.
"I swear that girl never walks anywhere," Jarod laughs. "I spend my whole day chasing after her."
"I think I know the feeling. Like father, like daughter," Miss Parker laughs back. They enjoy the irony of the situation for a moment before allowing the laughter to die back down.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For remembering me. I'm honored she has my name. But where does 'Imani' come from?"
"That was my wife's idea," Jarod says with a small, haunted smile at the bittersweet memories. His mood getting just a little darker at the mention of Imani's mother.
"You're married?" Yet another surprise she wasn't expecting. But he doesn't seem to hear her question and just continues on.
"When she was pregnant, she would say that the baby was like how it says in the Bible - 'the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen'. She was the embodiment of faith. So that's what she wanted to call her. 'Imani' is Swahili for 'Faith'." He pauses for a moment and sighs deeply. "She taught me the true meaning of the word faith. But now, she's gone. And Imani's all I have left," he says quietly, trying hard to hold back the tears threatening to fall.
"What happened to her, Jarod?" Miss Parker gently prods.
"She passed away about a year ago," he whispers.
"That was a simple enough answer, Jarod. But something tells me there's more to this story."
"There's always more to the story when the Centre's involved," he sighs, but doesn't say anything else for awhile. Almost like he was trying to figure out where to begin.
"Tell me about her Jarod. What was she like."
"Her name was Sharisse. And she was the best person I'd ever met," Jarod begins. He stands up from his seat and walks over to the mantle over the fireplace, gently running his fingers over the many framed photos before selecting one and handing it to Miss Parker.
"She's really beautiful," Miss Parker comments. She stares at the picture in her hand. It was one of Jarod, his wife and Imani as a tiny infant.
"That was taken right after we moved into this house. Up until then, we were living with her mother, Miss Dee. It was nice being so close to her, but it was time for us to make a home. For Imani and for any other children we might have had."
"You mentioned the Centre, Jarod. What did it have to do with you and Sharisse?" she asks, although not sure she wants to hear the answer. Too many dark secrets have come from that place. And just when you think you've seen it all, something else horribly unthinkable surfaces. Miss Parker had a feeling that Jarod's story was one of those instances.
"Up until four years ago, Sharisse Nelson had a normal life. She lived in a normal town with a normal family. Her parents were Hampton and Deidre Nelson. Wonderful people and well respected in the community. She had an older brother and sister, and there was also a foster brother named Billy, whom she took an immediate liking to. They were really close growing up. Kind of like us," he glances at her with a warm smile.
"Billy and Sharisse were bright. Very bright. Smarter than most kids their age. Geniuses almost. And after high school, Billy left. To go out and try to make a life for him and Sharisse. They planned on running away together after she graduated. Sharisse still had another two years, and at first, she heard from Billy all the time. But eventually, the communication stopped. And she didn't hear from him at all. She felt hurt and rejected. So sad that he had left her all alone in the world. She had so much going on in her mind and no one understood like Billy.
"Eventually she moved on with her life. And for years she was able to live without Billy. Then about five years ago, her father died. Once again, she was crushed. She didn't feel as if she had much of a place in this world. Only Billy could help her. So she set out to search for him. A search that led her to the Centre." He stops the story again to go search for a photo album. He brings it back and sets it on the table in front of Miss Parker.
It opens to an older family photo. She sees a man standing next to a younger version of Miss Dee and she assumes that's Sharisse's father. She sees Sharisse's older brother and sister. Then she sees another young man with his hand on Sharisse's shoulder. With surprisingly familiar face that makes Miss Parker's blood begin to boil.
"Tell me that's not who I think it is," she groans. Her knuckles white from grasping the album too hard.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parker. But Little Billy Nelson grew up to be your favorite sweeper - Willie."
Chapter 3
"Tell me that's not who I think it is," she groans. Her knuckles white from grasping the album too hard.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parker. But Little Billy Nelson grew up to be your favorite sweeper - Willie."
"I just can't believe it," she stutters. "How can a monster like Willie come from such good people like these? He seems to be so much the product of the Centre. Almost as if he was born there. Like it's in his blood."
"It doesn't make much sense to me, either," Jarod sympathizes. "But Sharisse loved him. According to her, he was a good man. She thought enough of him to track him to the Centre. But she didn't really know what she was getting herself into.
"She had heard about a study they were doing. Some research dealing with the health problems of young African American women. She figured it was a good way to get inside to look for 'Billy', as well as helping out her fellow man. She managed to get into the program. But once she got there, she found out it was more than she expected. For one thing, she turned out to be the only subject. And when she started to leave, they drugged her. At least, she assumed they drugged her. Because she woke up two weeks later with no memory of the time between when she got there, and that moment she woke up. All she knew was that she was still at the Centre. And that she was pregnant."
"What did they do to her?" Miss Parker cries, a few tears escaping. "How could they violate her like that?"
"Raines wanted another pretender. And if he couldn't find me, he figured he'd make himself one," Jarod spits out.
"But why her? Why Sharisse? She just sounds like she was at the wrong place at the wrong time," Miss Parker wonders.
"Because that's how they planned it. See, Raines wanted to experiment. He wanted to try to . . . breed me. But by using different women of different nationalities and races to see what 'turned out'." Jarod feels his stomach start to churn again as he vomits the vile words from his mouth. The very thought of someone like Raines playing around with nature repulsed him. Knowing that Raines was so freely trying to reproduce him. It was sickening. He looks over to see how Miss Parker is handling the story and sees that she's turning a little green as well.
"But they couldn't take too many risks," Jarod continues. "Raines wanted a suitable mother for my child. Someone very smart. Beyond intelligent. Practically a genius. And they couldn't exactly use you. I'm sure they realized you wouldn't be too happy about being impregnated with my child against your will. So they needed someone else. Finding Sharisse was no problem. Willie knew first hand how bright she was. And he was looking to score some brownie points with Raines. So he arranged for her to be the surrogate. She didn't just happen to be there, Miss Parker. She was lured there. And then they used her.
"Months passed and she had little contact with anyone. They sent doctors and nurses to take care of her. And they made sure she had plenty of fresh air and sunlight. But the only person she really connected with was Angelo. He knew things about what they were planning with her, and he kept her informed. He told her about me and why they'd even want to create my child. Her and Angelo became really good friends.
"But, the day came when he couldn't protect her any longer. About 4 months into the pregnancy, they figured she was far enough along for them to run some preliminary tests. The amniocentesis showed that the baby definitely had the Pretender gene. But the ultrasound showed that the baby was a girl, so the gene was recessive. They had no more use for either of them. They made plans to terminate them both. Angelo found out. Contacted me. And together, we rescued Sharisse from that place.
"I had planned to stay with her just long enough to keep her safe. And to make sure I knew where she'd be with the baby. But a day turned into a week. And a week turned into a month. We were becoming better friends. And watching my baby grow inside of her was . . . . let's just say I became attached. I couldn't leave them. I didn't want to leave them. But, Sharisse was still so hurt over Willie's betrayal. She needed her family. However, she felt like she couldn't go home pregnant and unwed. So we got married."
"Did you love her?" Miss Parker asks quietly. She tries to ignore the small pain in her chest where her heart was breaking.
"At the time? No," he admits. "But things changed. At first, we were just friends. Really good friends. So it's not like we couldn't stand to be in the same room with each other. But we also would have to put on a show for her family and friends. To make them think we were a happily married couple. You know, holding hands, stealing kisses. That kind of thing. But after awhile, it was hard to tell what was pretend and what was real anymore. When I held her hand even when it was just the two of us, it felt real. And when I would hold her in my arms and kiss her. It didn't feel like I was pretending. And the times we spent making love all night long was as real as it got." He gets quiet again, but this time doesn't try to stop the tears from falling.
"We loved each other. But not in the traditional way. Because our hearts still belonged to other people. Shari still loved Willie and I . . ."
"Still?" Miss Parker asks incredulously. "After all he did? How could she possibly still have loved him?"
"We can't control who we love, Miss Parker," he tells her matter of factly before turning his back to her to stare out of the window. "To Shari, Willie was still her 'Billy'. Only he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and lost his way. To me, you'll always be that little girl who gave me my first kiss. The girl who stole my heart. I can't even imagine anything you could do to make me stop loving you. That's how Shari felt about Willie." He hears her sniffle behind him and he knows she's crying too.
"Anyway, despite all of that, we realized we were lucky. We knew that we weren't meant to be, but we were lucky to have each other. We were lucky that we made each other happy. So we decided to make the most of the situation and live our happy life and raise a happy child. And we did just that. After Imani was born, we bought this house and got settled. It was a good life and I took care of my family. I only did a few pretends and cut off almost all contact with you and Sydney. Because in this house with Shari and the baby, I knew who I was. I didn't have a last name to give them, but I knew who I was. I was a good husband. And I was a good father. I didn't need to search anymore.
"Right after Imani turned one, Shari starts to get sick. She had a pretty rough time when she was pregnant with Imani, so at first she thought we might be having another baby. But she started to get really, really sick. We went to doctors, but they couldn't figure out what the problem was. They just knew that she had something foreign and unknown in her blood. They just didn't know what. Right then, I knew they had done something to her. I knew that Raines was still playing his sick games, even after all this time."
"It all makes sense now," Miss Parker cries suddenly. "It was the PQ9486, wasn't it?"
Jarod just nods his head, unable to speak of the horrible fate the Centre signed for Sharisse.
"That time you called last year. The last time we heard from you. It was a different phone call. Not the usual call I'd get from you when you just wanted to torment me. I didn't realize it then because I was just so relieved to hear from you. We were afraid something had happened to you because we hadn't heard from you in so long. You called and told us to keep our eyes on Raines. To see what he was doing with pregnant women and experimental drugs. That's when Broots dug up the information on PQ9486. Jarod, tell me he didn't give her that," she says, feeling pretty horrified.
PQ9486 was a death sentence. Except, it had a delayed reaction. It systematically alters all of the cells in your body and then triggers an attack on your system with your cells fighting against you instead of for you. Raines used it on all of his subjects so he wouldn't have to worry about missing person reports anymore. When he was finished with them, he'd give them a dose of the drug and release them back into the public. They'd soon die from what doctors would just assume to be a bad reaction to a mysterious virus. No way to tie them back to the Centre.
"From what I could tell about the drug, the time it takes for it to launch a full attack on the body is related to how much of the drug is administered. Broots said that all those women got fairly large doses of the drug and we dead within days of being released. My guess is that they gave Shari a small amount when she first got there," Jarod hypothesizes. Just enough to make it start working in her body, but not enough so that any harm would be done to the fetus."
Miss Parker's head was swimming. It never ceases to amaze her the things that the Centre can think up. And just when it seems like things have gotten about as vile and repulsive as they can get. Something like this happens. They knew about Raines' renegade projects and the experimental drugs that he was constantly developing. But the severity of it all is suddenly sinking in. And the idea of actually knowing the outcome of one of his sick 'experiments' was more than she could handle.
"Jarod, I think I'm going to be sick," Miss Parker grunts. "Which way is your . . . "
"Bathroom? Up the stairs. Make a left and go all the way to the end of the hall," he barely manages to get out before she speeds away.
She just barely makes it to the toilet before becoming violently ill and emptying the contents of her stomach. She was never one to have a weak stomach, but all this was just too much. Too much to deal with at one time. But when she thinks about it, she starts to feel ashamed as well. Because she only had to listen to the story. Jarod was the one who told it. He was the one who lived it.
She goes to the sink and splashes some cold water on her face. Looking in the mirror, she sees how bad she looks. Her eyes red and bloodshot from all the crying she didn't even realize she was doing. Her makeup streaked and running. She leans back over the sink and completely washes off her make up. Then she pulls her hair up into a ponytail. When she's more pleased with her appearance, she heads back downstairs. She's distracted, however, by the room at the opposite end of the hall. In the middle of it sat Imani. Sitting at a little table drawing a picture. Miss Parker leans against the door frame and watches the little girl for awhile, her smile growing by the second as she listens to the girl talk to what she can only assume is an imaginary friend.
"Who are you talking to, Imani?" Miss Parker says, stepping into the room and going to sit down in one of the little chairs around the table.
Imani looks behind her at the door to make sure no one else was there. Then she leans over to Miss Parker and whispers in her ear.
"I'm talking to Mommy," she says quietly before proceeding with her artwork.
Chapter 4
Miss Parker sits in stunned silence, not sure how to deal with the latest revelation from the little girl sitting next to her.
"Wh..what did you say, Imani?" she finally asks.
"I'm talking to my mommy," Imani whispers again. "But don't tell Daddy."
"Imani, Sweetie. How old are you?"
"Two halves," she says with a smile. "I'm gonna be three soon."
"Two and a half?" Miss Parker corrects with a little smile at the girl's cuteness. "Almost three? So you're pretty grown up, huh?"
"Yep. Daddy says I'm his little lady," Imani says.
"So, you're old enough to know what it means when someone dies."
"Granny said that Mommy is up to Heaven," Imani tells her. "I miss her so much. Sometimes she comes and talks to me when no one else is here."
"Imani, your Mommy loved you very much. But she can't come back from where she is now," Miss Parker tries to explain. "My mommy is in Heaven, too, Imani. And as much as I wish I could talk to her . . ."
"I know that she is," Imani interrupts. "She's there with my mommy. They're friends." Imani gets out of her chair and walks over to Miss Parker, climbing up in her lap. "I was talking to them both when you came in. They told me that they brought you here to help Daddy take care of me and that we were going to be friends forever."
"Imani, that's impossible," Miss Parker insists. "As much as we want to talk to our mommies, we can't anymore."
"At first, I was scared. Because she looked exactly like you. I thought something bad happened to you and you had to go to Heaven like my mommy. But she was really nice. She said not to worry. Because you were her little girl."
"Imani, that's impossible," Miss Parker repeats, this time with tears threatening to fall. Not so much because she didn't believe Imani, but because she was starting to get frightened that what the little girl was saying could possibly be true. How else would Imani know what her mother looked like?
"Oh, don't cry Angel Girl," Imani tries to comfort. But it only frightens Miss Parker even more.
"What did you say? Imani, why did you call me that?" Miss Parker cries. It was a name she hadn't heard in a long, long time. Since she was a little girl. A name only her mother used.
"Hey, what are you two ladies up to?" Jarod's sudden appearance startles Miss Parker. But Imani's happy to see him as usual. She jumps up into his arms, giving Miss Parker enough time to wipe away the newest set of tears streaming down her face before pasting on a fake smile.
"Not much, Daddy. Just girl stuff," the little girl giggles.
"Girl stuff, huh? You okay, Parker?" Jarod asks, concerned that she's visibly upset about something.
"What? Oh yeah. Just like Imani said. Girl stuff," she says distantly. "Actually, I was just about to ask Imani if I could take you guys out for some ice cream or something."
"Ooh, Daddy please. Please can we go?" Imani begs.
"I'm not so sure," Jarod starts, looking at Miss Parker suspiciously. "I need to see what else Miss Parker had in mind. Where else she wanted to go."
"Just for ice cream," she assures. "My car is in the shop and they said it would be ready around six. I figured we could get some ice cream and hang out awhile before I had to leave."
"Your car's in the shop?" Jarod asks, starting to get a little confused. But also relieved that she hasn't mentioned anything about calling sweepers.
"Yeah, the funniest thing. I was just passing through. My rental broke down. It's being fixed now."
"So finding me was just . . . "
"Purely a coincidence, Jarod," she admits.
"And . . . "
"And it's going to stay that way," she says finally. "As far as I'm concerned, my car broke down and I stopped here to get it fixed. End of story."
"Thank you," he mouths to her, grateful that she wasn't taking him in. "Ice cream would be great. Imani, grab your jacket in case it's a little chilly on the way home."
"Yeah!" Imani screams. She runs to get her jacket while Jarod and Miss Parker goes downstairs to wait for her.
"I really don't know how to thank you," Jarod repeats. "I knew I wouldn't be able to fight you if you were here to take me in. Not with Imani. Things are different now."
"No need to thank me, Jarod. You really don't belong there. I should be thanking you for making me see that. You two just be careful. And make sure you take good care of that little girl. Her being my namesake and all," Miss Parker says with a smile. "Oh, and speak of the little devil. There she is now."
Imani finally comes down and the three of them head towards the ice cream shop. It's a only a couple of blocks from the house, so they decide to walk. When they get there, Jarod goes to place the order while Miss Parker and Imani find a booth. It doesn't take long, and soon he joins them, his hands full of the confectionary treat.
"This really is a nice little town," Miss Parker sighs, looking out the window at the happy little town. "Just the kind of place I always pictured myself living. The kind of life I always dreamed of having."
"I know," Jarod remarks. "I remember thinking how much you'd love it here when Sharisse and I came. And the house was just like something out of one of your dreams. The little two story brick house surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn and a white picket fence. A swing on the porch and kids running up and down the street."
"You remember all that?" she asks, blushing at her silly childhood fantasies.
"Of course, Parker. Those were our dreams. Ones we made together. I'd never forget them," he says with a smile.
The smile distracts her and makes her lose all train of thought. It made her feel kind of funny, causing her heart to skip a beat and her cheeks to grow even redder. It's crazy how he could do that to her. She felt her stomach start fluttering and her hands get sweaty. She felt her senses take leave while her heart took over. It was no denying it. She was in love. In that one instant it all became clear.
She starts to nervously fidget around the table, looking for anything to get her mind off of Jarod and the sudden realization of her feelings for him. She finally spots a target in Imani.
"Look at you, Baby Girl. You're a mess," Miss Parker says, getting a napkin to clean Imani's face.
"You're pretty good at that. The mothering thing. I guess it's just a natural instinct or something," Jarod comments. He smiles at them and notices with pleasure how at ease they are with each other. He never really pictured Miss Parker as the maternal type. But seeing her with Imani sheds new light on her personality. She seemed so happy for once in her life. Carefree almost. Almost like the girl he once knew that long time ago.
"There you go, Imani. All clean." Miss Parker smiles at the girl and can't resist planting a little kiss on her forehead. "Now, can you be a big girl and go put this stuff in the trash for me? It's right over there." She points Imani in the right direction of the trash can and then turns back around to finish her dessert. But she finds that Jarod is finishing it for her.
"Sorry," he says sheepishly with a little grin. "Were you going to finish this? A banana split is huge. I didn't think a little woman like you could eat it all."
"You better watch it, Oh Sexist One," she teases. "This little woman can kick your butt. Which is what's going to happen if you don't get your spoon out of my ice cream."
"Okay, okay. I give up," he says, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "How about we share?"
"Me? Share? I don't think so." She gets a spoonful of ice cream and very seductively begins to eat it. "Hmmm. This is so good," she purrs. "You want some?"
Jarod just nods his head enthusiastically, getting more and more drawn in by the little game they were playing.
Miss Parker gets another spoon of ice cream and moves it towards Jarod's mouth in a teasingly slow fashion.
"This is good," he agrees once the ice cream finally reaches his mouth. "Much better than mine."
"Yeah, I can see that," she says trying hard to stifle a laugh, but without much luck.
"What?" he asks, wondering why she's suddenly giggling.
"Nothing," she says, still laughing. "It's just you have a little fudge on your chin. You're about as bad as the baby. Let me get you all cleaned up." She slides across the booth until she's right next to him. She reaches up and grabs his face with one hand while gently wiping the fudge from his chin with the thumb of her other hand.
"Thanks," he whispers, suddenly aware of how close she was to him. Suddenly aware of the warmth coming from her hands as they still stroked his face. And suddenly aware of their lips drawing closer and closer together.
He leans in, ready to close his eyes and kiss her when something outside the window catches his attention. Two black town cars pull in front of the hardware store across the street. Men in dark glasses get out and follow an impeccably dressed Lyle into the store.
"You liar," Jarod growls. "And to think I actually believed you. I actually believed you cared."
"Jarod, what are you talking about?" she asks, suddenly very confused. "I do care. What's going on here?"
He looks outside again and she follows his gaze to the cars.
"Oh no. Lyle," she whispers. "Jarod, I don't know what's going on here, but . . . " She stops abruptly when she notices that the seat next to her is empty. Jarod is gone. And so is Imani. She looks around the ice cream parlor in hopes of spotting them through her tear-blurred eyes. But she knows it's no hope. They're gone. And she'll probably never see them again.
* * * * * * * * *
She walks down the halls of the Centre the same way she's been doing the month since Jarod's been gone. Dazed and distracted. Not seeming to care anymore about much of anything. Except for Jarod. But, he wasn't there. He took Imani and vanished without a trace. All ties and communication cut. But can she blame him? It was something she totally expected. Why would he contact her and risk his daughter's safety? She was sad, nevertheless. With an empty feeling on the inside that was eating away at her heart. Jarod always had a way of reaching her the way nobody else could. Those few hours she spent with him and Imani changed her life in a way she could have never imagined. They made her realize things she thought she had long forgotten. Her dreams of love and happiness. Her dreams of being someone's mother. Someone's wife. But, she realized too late that that someone was Jarod. And who knew she could grow to love a child in such a short amount of time. She sighs heavily as she slips into Sydney's office and plops down on his couch.
"Parker, why don't you talk to me," the doctor pleads. "I know something is wrong. You haven't been yourself in almost a month." He walks across the room and sits down next to her, placing a reassuring hand on her back.
"I think that's a good thing," she whispers, laying her head in his lap like she used to do when she was much younger. Back then, her problems were so simple, but Sydney always treated them like they were as important as any other business he had. She draws her knees up to her chest and starts sobbing.
Sydney's a bit shocked, but goes with it. She hadn't come to him for comfort or advice in many, many years. He moves his hand from her back up to her hair and gently strokes it, soothing her until he feels that she's stopped shaking.
"Why do you say that, Parker?" he gently prods, not wanting to press her for any information she wasn't ready to give.
"Do you think I'm a bad person, Syd?"
"You're the strongest person I know, Parker. You've had a lot to overcome growing up and you dealt with it the best way you knew how given the circumstances. And though I think you could have made some different choices along the way, that's not really my place to say. This is your life. You need to do what's going to make you happy. Not what you think others would want you to do."
"I'm tired of doing what others expect me to do," she admits. "I'm tired of being a product of this place. I know the horrible, horrible things that go on, yet I do nothing to stop them. It's time for all of that to change."
"What do you have in mind?" Sydney asks her tentatively, afraid that she was about to do something foolish. But also immensely proud that she was about to do something courageous.
"Nothing right now. I just have to wait. Until the time is right. And my heart will tell me when the time is right."
"Parker, since when do you listen to your heart? You always said that sentiment was for fools," Sydney laughs.
"I was the fool Sydney. I said that because I didn't understand before. But I understand now. I now know the difference between the looks of contempt my father would give me when I failed him and the looks of disappointment you'd give me when I failed you. His came from hate. Yours came from love," she says to him with a small smile starting to grow on her face. She sits up to face him. "Thank you, Sydney. Thank you for loving me all this time. No matter how many times I disappoint you. I love you too. I could just never say it."
"You never failed me, Parker," he says, pulling her into a hug. "I thought I failed you. Because I knew how much you needed someone to love you, but I never told you."
"Syd, even if you did tell me, I wouldn't have believed it. I just couldn't have believed that someone could love someone else's child. I didn't think it was possible. Until it happened to me," she says with an even bigger smile, remembering the short time she had with Imani and feelings she developed. " I didn't know love worked that way. I always thought you loved the child born to you. Because they were a part of you. And because you can see yourself in their eyes. But love can make strange things happen. I've seen how a parent and child can look so different, but at the same time look exactly the same because of the reflection of true love in each other's eyes."
"Miss Parker, something tells me you aren't this lovesick over a little girl. I'm sure her father has something to do with it as well," Sydney says knowingly. "Are you . . . in love with him? Are you in love with Jarod?" he whispers, afraid of anyone hearing.
"It doesn't really matter," she says sadly. "Because he's gone. He's never coming back. I missed my chance, Syd. I blew it."
"Are you sure about that? I've known him about as long as I've know you. He might just need some time to cool off. He'll realize you had nothing to do with Lyle showing up that day . . ." A knock at the door interrupts him. They both look up and sees the door slowly swing open as Broots pokes his head in.
"Sorry for interrupting. But this just came. I thought you'd want to see it, Miss Parker," Broots says. He hands an envelope over to her and has to do a double take when he hears two words escape her lips.
"Thank you," she says quietly, surprising herself as much as Broots.
"No problem. I think it's from Jarod," he adds.
"Well, there's only one way to find out." She carefully opens the envelope, not wanting to damage the contents. She's shocked to find only a piece of paper inside. No gift. No joke. No cryptic message. Just a note:
THEY TOOK MY LOVE. THEY TOOK MY TRUST. I'M QUITTING BEFORE THEY CAN GET MY FAITH. CONGRATULATIONS, MISS PARKER. YOU WIN. GAME OVER.
"Game over," she whispers the last line, letting the note slip from her hand. "I blew it. I blew it."
Imani was everything to him. All he had left. She was his faith. And he'd give up everything for her. Miss Parker was more certain than ever that she'd never see them again.
Jarod was right about one thing in his note. The game was over. But, why did it feel like she was the one who lost?
To be continued in The Trust Game
Author: Nicky ([email protected])
Rating: PG
Category/Keywords: JOR, JMPF/R
Summary: Jarod tells Miss Parker a story that changes her views of herself, her world, and her perception of love.
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Book I: True Reflection of Love
Chapter 1
Why? Why her? Why was it always her? Bad stuff just seemed to find her. No matter where she was or what she was doing. Something was always broken in her house or with the car or with anything she touched. When she finally gets her hot water heater fixed, the pipes burst. When she gets the pipes fixed something else malfunctions in the house. But this. This takes the cake. This wasn't even her car and already it was betraying her.
"Do you think you'll be able to fix it?" she impatiently asks the mechanic standing in front of her. "I have some place to be. People will be waiting for me."
"I'm sure I can fix it," the mechanic assures her. "It might take awhile, though. I'm kind of backed up today. Can't you just call the rental place and have them tow this one and send you another one?"
"Good thinking . . . Clyde," she says sarcastically with a little pause after taking a second to read his name tag. "That wasn't the first thought that occurred to me at all. Actually, I think I'd prefer being stuck in this little hick town while this piece of junk rental car gets repaired." She scowls at him, suddenly sending a wave of fear down his spine. She notices the man's obvious terror and takes a small amount of pleasure in that fact.
"Well you don't have to be so mean about it," Clyde says after gathering his courage back. "That kind of attitude isn't going to make me get to you any quicker."
Miss Parker scowls again. But this time it's because the mechanic is right. She was pretty much at his mercy.
"I'm sorry," she says in a gentler tone and adds a fake smile. "Force of habit. I'm used to being tough and getting my way. Now, about the car. Do you think you can get that done today? I'm just passing through your lovely town on my way to somewhere else. And I really need to get there."
"Okay," the mechanic relents. "It should be ready by early evening. Come back around six."
"Thanks," she says sweetly, waiting until after she puts on her sunglasses to roll her eyes at pretend niceness she had to offer. She then turns and walks out the door, stepping out into main square of the tiny town.
She decides to just walk around awhile, taking in the everyday life of the locals. She'd find a place to have an early dinner, and then hopefully make it back here to pick up the car. This little pit stop might not be as unpleasant as she had originally thought.
The happy sounds of children playing captures her attention and she starts to walk towards them. She walks about two blocks before she discovers a playground at the bottom of a hill. She goes down, inexplicably drawn to their giggles and shrieks of joy. Usually such noise gave her an immediate headache and made her race to her doctor to refill her birth control pills prescription. But today it was oddly soothing. Seeing the children so carefree. Having fun the way children should. Having the kind of fun that she never could.
She saw children of all shapes and sizes. All colors and nationalities. Playing together and not noticing their differences. There were older boys, playing basketball on a court across the yard. Boys with brown skin. Boys with white skin. And boys with all the varying shades in between. And there were smaller children, chasing each other in the grass, some calling to each other in Spanish. Some speaking Chinese. Some speaking English. This one little girl was chasing a butterfly. She had a creamy, light brown complexion and a head full of braids with colorful beads on the ends. Her deep chocolate eyes widened in amazement every time the butterfly fluttered it's wings. The really small ones were playing in a sandy area, close to the benches where the parents looked on. Parents and . . .someone else she never expected to see.
"Jarod," she whispers, ducking behind a tree before he can see her. Was it really him or were her eyes playing tricks on her? She peeks around the tree to get a better look at him, but is surprised to see that his spot on the bench is now empty. Her eyes roam the entire park before she finally spots him walking down the street. From her vantage point, she can only see his head, but she's sure it's him. The dark hair. The dark, troubled eyes. It was Jarod. She could just feel it.
By the time she reaches the street, he's heading into a house about a block and a half away. A good sized house. Not too big. Not too small. It looked really comfortable. Like a home. It fit in perfectly with the other houses lining both sides of the street. Perfect little houses each surrounded by a perfect little white picket fence. The perfect place to blend in and get lost, which is what she assumed Jarod was trying to do. But she managed to catch up to him. Quite by accident, but she's still found him. At least, she thinks she's found him. She only sees the back of him as the door closes behind him, but she's still sure it's him.
She waits a few minutes before going up to the house. She tries to come up with a plan of attack, but all thoughts fail her. All she can think to do is ring the doorbell. And wait until he comes to the door. After that, she'll figure it all out.
The door opens and Miss Parker is surprised to see a face other than Jarod staring at her.
"May I help you?" an older woman asks. She was older. About 60, maybe even 70, Miss Parker guessed. With white hair forming a crown around her dark face. And eyes that danced with smile, even though they were staring at an unknown visitor.
"I'm sorry," Miss Parker apologizes, suddenly flustered. She wasn't expecting to see anyone other than Jarod. "I was looking for a man. He was just at the park down the street."
"You mean Jarod? Come on in," the old woman invites. She holds the door open for Miss Parker and waits patiently for her to enter the house. "He's upstairs taking care of something right now. He'll be down in a minute. Please. Have a seat."
Miss Parker graciously accepts her host's hospitality. As if she had a choice. She didn't want to alarm anyone as to her true intentions. Besides, she got the feeling that she couldn't refuse the old woman anything.
"My name's Deidre Nelson. But everyone around here just calls me Miss Dee." She offers a hand to Miss Parker to shake, giving her a silent invitation to introduce herself.
"Miss Parker. Everyone calls me Miss Parker."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Parker," the woman says, emphasizing the 'Miss' with a kind of mocking tone.
"Actually, you don't have to call me that," Miss Parker says, with a shocking change of heart that surprises even herself. It just didn't sound right having the woman call her 'Miss' anything. For some reason, this woman's presence commanded respect. And Miss Parker suddenly feels as if she doesn't deserve her respect. "You can call me Tori."
"Tori," Miss Dee repeats, flashing a huge smile that Miss Parker immediately takes a liking to. Almost an approving glance that she never gets from anyone these days. Especially the people whose approval means the most to her. Like Sydney. Her father. And even Lyle. "A lovely name for a lovely young woman."
"Thank you," Miss Parker says quietly as a blush starts to warm her cheeks. And she feels herself smiling despite her tough-as-nails exterior. This woman has known her for all of three minutes, and already she was making Miss Parker feel human. Like she was actually worthy of love and respect. This woman was doing what no one else could do. She was melting the icy shell surrounding Miss Parker's heart. She started to feel a lot of things. But mostly guilt because of her true reasons for being there. Suddenly, the idea of capturing Jarod like a sitting duck didn't sound so appealing after all.
"You know, I can always come back some other time. If Jarod's busy," Miss Parker says, trying to find any excuse to get out of the house. She stands up and starts to walk to the door. But her path is unexpectedly blocked by a blinding flash rushing past her. She looks, but all she can hear are little feet pounding the floor. She sees Miss Dee get up and walk towards the breathless giggles coming from under the coffee table.
"IMANI VICTORIA NELSON! Get back here now, young lady," a familiar male voice suddenly booms, scaring Miss Parker and making her drop her sunglasses.
She kneels down to pick them up, reaching out a shaky hand to grab them when she comes face to face with the little girl from the park who was chasing the butterfly. The little girl flashes her a sweet smile that instantly turns her heart to mush. Instead of the sunglasses in her hands, she ends up with the little girl in her arms, gently wriggling her out from the tiny hiding place. She takes a deep breath before finally standing up to face the music.
"I believe this is what you were looking for," Miss Parker says to the stunned man standing across the room. She holds out the child and he crosses the room in two long strides to collect her.
"What are you doing here, Miss Parker?" he asks grimly.
"Jarod," Miss Dee scolds. "That's no way to treat a guest. Now, I have some errands to run before heading home. Why don't you let me take this little lady with me while you and your friend have a nice visit."
"That's alright. I was trying to put her down for a nap anyway. You go out and enjoy yourself. We'll be fine," Jarod assures.
"Okay, then. I'll see you. Imani, come give Granny a kiss good-bye," she calls to the young girl.
Jarod sets her down and lets her run to Miss Dee's arms, never once taking him eyes off Miss Parker. What was she doing there? More importantly, how did she find him? And what did she know about the situation?
"Bye, Jarod. Bye, Tori," Miss Dee says before shutting the door behind her.
"Tori?" Jarod asks curiously, momentarily forgetting that his huntress was standing before him. "You told her your name? I'm shocked."
"Me too. But it didn't seem right. Having her call me 'Miss Parker'. I don't know what it is, but I just got the feeling that I would have to earn respect from her, not demand it."
They both smile and think favorably about Miss Dee, while sharing a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod sees Imani, wandering around and goes to scoop her up into his protective arms. And just then he's reminded of the seriousness of the situation at hand. He holds her close to his chest and she wraps her little arms around his neck.
"I just ask one thing," he says hoarsely, his voice suddenly marred with tears. "Let me have the rest of the night with her. And then take me far from here before you call the sweepers. I don't want to put her or Miss Dee in any danger. No one can know about them."
She looks at the anguish on his face and that guilty feeling starts to rise up again from the pit of her stomach. These people were obviously important to him. Important enough for him to give up his freedom. What she didn't know was why.
"Why, Jarod?" she asks curiously, trying to push the sick feeling gnawing away at her insides. "What's going on here? Who is this little girl? And why are you doing everything you can to protect her?"
He gives Miss Parker a cryptic smile while crossing the room to sit on the sofa. He sets Imani securely on his lap and offers Miss Parker a seat.
"Why don't you sit down, Miss Parker," he says. "Because this is going to be a long story."
Chapter 2
"Why don't you sit down, Miss Parker," he says. "Because this is going to be a long story."
"Who is this little girl, Jarod?" Miss Parker asks again, waiting patiently as Jarod takes a deep breath and begins his tale.
"This is Imani. Imani Victoria Nelson. She's my daughter," he says after a long silence. He looks at Miss Parker and can see that she's completely shocked.
"Daughter?" she manages to squeak out. "She's your daughter?" She's stunned. But she looks closer and can see it. Despite the obvious differences, she could see the resemblance. Looking beyond Jarod's pale skin against Imani's brown skin, Miss Parker could see where the two were related. They had the same deep, brown eyes that could stare into your soul. And when the little girl smiled, she could see the same cocky grin that Jarod has flashed at her more times than she can remember. But more than anything, she could see between them what really connected a girl to her father, even beyond the bonds of genetics. She could see the way that they looked at each other with complete adoration and devotion. It was what love looked like. Something she never saw from Mr. Parker.
"It's nice to meet you, Imani," Miss Parker says to the child after recovering a bit from the initial shock. "I love your name. It's so pretty. Just like you." She smiles at the little girl and playfully pokes at her nose.
"Thank you," Imani giggles. "I'm a namesteak," she says proudly. "Daddy named me after someone he knowed a long, long time ago."
"It's Name-SAKE, Sweetie," Jarod gently corrects the little girl. "Not name-STEAK."
"Oh, yeah. Namesake. He said she stoled his heart and never gave it back. But he gave me her name because he was so happy to have me. He said it was like Mommy was giving him his heart back when she had me." Imani ends her story with a big smile, so proud at herself at remembering the history behind her name.
"Guess what, Imani? This is that friend I was telling you about. This is who you're named after," Jarod says, looking at Miss Parker to judge her reaction.
"Really?" Imani exclaims with wide eyes. "We have the same name?"
"That's right. My name's Victoria, too. But let's keep this our secret, okay? Nobody knows my name except for you and your daddy," Miss Parker whispers.
"Okay," Imani whispers back to Miss Parker. She climbs off of Jarod's lap and into Miss Parker's, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. "Now that we have the same name, that means we're pals. Daddy, can I go up and draw a picture for my new friend?"
"Of course, Honey. Don't make a mess, though."
"Okay, Daddy," Imani says as she jumps off Miss Parker's lap and runs up the stairs.
"I swear that girl never walks anywhere," Jarod laughs. "I spend my whole day chasing after her."
"I think I know the feeling. Like father, like daughter," Miss Parker laughs back. They enjoy the irony of the situation for a moment before allowing the laughter to die back down.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For remembering me. I'm honored she has my name. But where does 'Imani' come from?"
"That was my wife's idea," Jarod says with a small, haunted smile at the bittersweet memories. His mood getting just a little darker at the mention of Imani's mother.
"You're married?" Yet another surprise she wasn't expecting. But he doesn't seem to hear her question and just continues on.
"When she was pregnant, she would say that the baby was like how it says in the Bible - 'the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen'. She was the embodiment of faith. So that's what she wanted to call her. 'Imani' is Swahili for 'Faith'." He pauses for a moment and sighs deeply. "She taught me the true meaning of the word faith. But now, she's gone. And Imani's all I have left," he says quietly, trying hard to hold back the tears threatening to fall.
"What happened to her, Jarod?" Miss Parker gently prods.
"She passed away about a year ago," he whispers.
"That was a simple enough answer, Jarod. But something tells me there's more to this story."
"There's always more to the story when the Centre's involved," he sighs, but doesn't say anything else for awhile. Almost like he was trying to figure out where to begin.
"Tell me about her Jarod. What was she like."
"Her name was Sharisse. And she was the best person I'd ever met," Jarod begins. He stands up from his seat and walks over to the mantle over the fireplace, gently running his fingers over the many framed photos before selecting one and handing it to Miss Parker.
"She's really beautiful," Miss Parker comments. She stares at the picture in her hand. It was one of Jarod, his wife and Imani as a tiny infant.
"That was taken right after we moved into this house. Up until then, we were living with her mother, Miss Dee. It was nice being so close to her, but it was time for us to make a home. For Imani and for any other children we might have had."
"You mentioned the Centre, Jarod. What did it have to do with you and Sharisse?" she asks, although not sure she wants to hear the answer. Too many dark secrets have come from that place. And just when you think you've seen it all, something else horribly unthinkable surfaces. Miss Parker had a feeling that Jarod's story was one of those instances.
"Up until four years ago, Sharisse Nelson had a normal life. She lived in a normal town with a normal family. Her parents were Hampton and Deidre Nelson. Wonderful people and well respected in the community. She had an older brother and sister, and there was also a foster brother named Billy, whom she took an immediate liking to. They were really close growing up. Kind of like us," he glances at her with a warm smile.
"Billy and Sharisse were bright. Very bright. Smarter than most kids their age. Geniuses almost. And after high school, Billy left. To go out and try to make a life for him and Sharisse. They planned on running away together after she graduated. Sharisse still had another two years, and at first, she heard from Billy all the time. But eventually, the communication stopped. And she didn't hear from him at all. She felt hurt and rejected. So sad that he had left her all alone in the world. She had so much going on in her mind and no one understood like Billy.
"Eventually she moved on with her life. And for years she was able to live without Billy. Then about five years ago, her father died. Once again, she was crushed. She didn't feel as if she had much of a place in this world. Only Billy could help her. So she set out to search for him. A search that led her to the Centre." He stops the story again to go search for a photo album. He brings it back and sets it on the table in front of Miss Parker.
It opens to an older family photo. She sees a man standing next to a younger version of Miss Dee and she assumes that's Sharisse's father. She sees Sharisse's older brother and sister. Then she sees another young man with his hand on Sharisse's shoulder. With surprisingly familiar face that makes Miss Parker's blood begin to boil.
"Tell me that's not who I think it is," she groans. Her knuckles white from grasping the album too hard.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parker. But Little Billy Nelson grew up to be your favorite sweeper - Willie."
Chapter 3
"Tell me that's not who I think it is," she groans. Her knuckles white from grasping the album too hard.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parker. But Little Billy Nelson grew up to be your favorite sweeper - Willie."
"I just can't believe it," she stutters. "How can a monster like Willie come from such good people like these? He seems to be so much the product of the Centre. Almost as if he was born there. Like it's in his blood."
"It doesn't make much sense to me, either," Jarod sympathizes. "But Sharisse loved him. According to her, he was a good man. She thought enough of him to track him to the Centre. But she didn't really know what she was getting herself into.
"She had heard about a study they were doing. Some research dealing with the health problems of young African American women. She figured it was a good way to get inside to look for 'Billy', as well as helping out her fellow man. She managed to get into the program. But once she got there, she found out it was more than she expected. For one thing, she turned out to be the only subject. And when she started to leave, they drugged her. At least, she assumed they drugged her. Because she woke up two weeks later with no memory of the time between when she got there, and that moment she woke up. All she knew was that she was still at the Centre. And that she was pregnant."
"What did they do to her?" Miss Parker cries, a few tears escaping. "How could they violate her like that?"
"Raines wanted another pretender. And if he couldn't find me, he figured he'd make himself one," Jarod spits out.
"But why her? Why Sharisse? She just sounds like she was at the wrong place at the wrong time," Miss Parker wonders.
"Because that's how they planned it. See, Raines wanted to experiment. He wanted to try to . . . breed me. But by using different women of different nationalities and races to see what 'turned out'." Jarod feels his stomach start to churn again as he vomits the vile words from his mouth. The very thought of someone like Raines playing around with nature repulsed him. Knowing that Raines was so freely trying to reproduce him. It was sickening. He looks over to see how Miss Parker is handling the story and sees that she's turning a little green as well.
"But they couldn't take too many risks," Jarod continues. "Raines wanted a suitable mother for my child. Someone very smart. Beyond intelligent. Practically a genius. And they couldn't exactly use you. I'm sure they realized you wouldn't be too happy about being impregnated with my child against your will. So they needed someone else. Finding Sharisse was no problem. Willie knew first hand how bright she was. And he was looking to score some brownie points with Raines. So he arranged for her to be the surrogate. She didn't just happen to be there, Miss Parker. She was lured there. And then they used her.
"Months passed and she had little contact with anyone. They sent doctors and nurses to take care of her. And they made sure she had plenty of fresh air and sunlight. But the only person she really connected with was Angelo. He knew things about what they were planning with her, and he kept her informed. He told her about me and why they'd even want to create my child. Her and Angelo became really good friends.
"But, the day came when he couldn't protect her any longer. About 4 months into the pregnancy, they figured she was far enough along for them to run some preliminary tests. The amniocentesis showed that the baby definitely had the Pretender gene. But the ultrasound showed that the baby was a girl, so the gene was recessive. They had no more use for either of them. They made plans to terminate them both. Angelo found out. Contacted me. And together, we rescued Sharisse from that place.
"I had planned to stay with her just long enough to keep her safe. And to make sure I knew where she'd be with the baby. But a day turned into a week. And a week turned into a month. We were becoming better friends. And watching my baby grow inside of her was . . . . let's just say I became attached. I couldn't leave them. I didn't want to leave them. But, Sharisse was still so hurt over Willie's betrayal. She needed her family. However, she felt like she couldn't go home pregnant and unwed. So we got married."
"Did you love her?" Miss Parker asks quietly. She tries to ignore the small pain in her chest where her heart was breaking.
"At the time? No," he admits. "But things changed. At first, we were just friends. Really good friends. So it's not like we couldn't stand to be in the same room with each other. But we also would have to put on a show for her family and friends. To make them think we were a happily married couple. You know, holding hands, stealing kisses. That kind of thing. But after awhile, it was hard to tell what was pretend and what was real anymore. When I held her hand even when it was just the two of us, it felt real. And when I would hold her in my arms and kiss her. It didn't feel like I was pretending. And the times we spent making love all night long was as real as it got." He gets quiet again, but this time doesn't try to stop the tears from falling.
"We loved each other. But not in the traditional way. Because our hearts still belonged to other people. Shari still loved Willie and I . . ."
"Still?" Miss Parker asks incredulously. "After all he did? How could she possibly still have loved him?"
"We can't control who we love, Miss Parker," he tells her matter of factly before turning his back to her to stare out of the window. "To Shari, Willie was still her 'Billy'. Only he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and lost his way. To me, you'll always be that little girl who gave me my first kiss. The girl who stole my heart. I can't even imagine anything you could do to make me stop loving you. That's how Shari felt about Willie." He hears her sniffle behind him and he knows she's crying too.
"Anyway, despite all of that, we realized we were lucky. We knew that we weren't meant to be, but we were lucky to have each other. We were lucky that we made each other happy. So we decided to make the most of the situation and live our happy life and raise a happy child. And we did just that. After Imani was born, we bought this house and got settled. It was a good life and I took care of my family. I only did a few pretends and cut off almost all contact with you and Sydney. Because in this house with Shari and the baby, I knew who I was. I didn't have a last name to give them, but I knew who I was. I was a good husband. And I was a good father. I didn't need to search anymore.
"Right after Imani turned one, Shari starts to get sick. She had a pretty rough time when she was pregnant with Imani, so at first she thought we might be having another baby. But she started to get really, really sick. We went to doctors, but they couldn't figure out what the problem was. They just knew that she had something foreign and unknown in her blood. They just didn't know what. Right then, I knew they had done something to her. I knew that Raines was still playing his sick games, even after all this time."
"It all makes sense now," Miss Parker cries suddenly. "It was the PQ9486, wasn't it?"
Jarod just nods his head, unable to speak of the horrible fate the Centre signed for Sharisse.
"That time you called last year. The last time we heard from you. It was a different phone call. Not the usual call I'd get from you when you just wanted to torment me. I didn't realize it then because I was just so relieved to hear from you. We were afraid something had happened to you because we hadn't heard from you in so long. You called and told us to keep our eyes on Raines. To see what he was doing with pregnant women and experimental drugs. That's when Broots dug up the information on PQ9486. Jarod, tell me he didn't give her that," she says, feeling pretty horrified.
PQ9486 was a death sentence. Except, it had a delayed reaction. It systematically alters all of the cells in your body and then triggers an attack on your system with your cells fighting against you instead of for you. Raines used it on all of his subjects so he wouldn't have to worry about missing person reports anymore. When he was finished with them, he'd give them a dose of the drug and release them back into the public. They'd soon die from what doctors would just assume to be a bad reaction to a mysterious virus. No way to tie them back to the Centre.
"From what I could tell about the drug, the time it takes for it to launch a full attack on the body is related to how much of the drug is administered. Broots said that all those women got fairly large doses of the drug and we dead within days of being released. My guess is that they gave Shari a small amount when she first got there," Jarod hypothesizes. Just enough to make it start working in her body, but not enough so that any harm would be done to the fetus."
Miss Parker's head was swimming. It never ceases to amaze her the things that the Centre can think up. And just when it seems like things have gotten about as vile and repulsive as they can get. Something like this happens. They knew about Raines' renegade projects and the experimental drugs that he was constantly developing. But the severity of it all is suddenly sinking in. And the idea of actually knowing the outcome of one of his sick 'experiments' was more than she could handle.
"Jarod, I think I'm going to be sick," Miss Parker grunts. "Which way is your . . . "
"Bathroom? Up the stairs. Make a left and go all the way to the end of the hall," he barely manages to get out before she speeds away.
She just barely makes it to the toilet before becoming violently ill and emptying the contents of her stomach. She was never one to have a weak stomach, but all this was just too much. Too much to deal with at one time. But when she thinks about it, she starts to feel ashamed as well. Because she only had to listen to the story. Jarod was the one who told it. He was the one who lived it.
She goes to the sink and splashes some cold water on her face. Looking in the mirror, she sees how bad she looks. Her eyes red and bloodshot from all the crying she didn't even realize she was doing. Her makeup streaked and running. She leans back over the sink and completely washes off her make up. Then she pulls her hair up into a ponytail. When she's more pleased with her appearance, she heads back downstairs. She's distracted, however, by the room at the opposite end of the hall. In the middle of it sat Imani. Sitting at a little table drawing a picture. Miss Parker leans against the door frame and watches the little girl for awhile, her smile growing by the second as she listens to the girl talk to what she can only assume is an imaginary friend.
"Who are you talking to, Imani?" Miss Parker says, stepping into the room and going to sit down in one of the little chairs around the table.
Imani looks behind her at the door to make sure no one else was there. Then she leans over to Miss Parker and whispers in her ear.
"I'm talking to Mommy," she says quietly before proceeding with her artwork.
Chapter 4
Miss Parker sits in stunned silence, not sure how to deal with the latest revelation from the little girl sitting next to her.
"Wh..what did you say, Imani?" she finally asks.
"I'm talking to my mommy," Imani whispers again. "But don't tell Daddy."
"Imani, Sweetie. How old are you?"
"Two halves," she says with a smile. "I'm gonna be three soon."
"Two and a half?" Miss Parker corrects with a little smile at the girl's cuteness. "Almost three? So you're pretty grown up, huh?"
"Yep. Daddy says I'm his little lady," Imani says.
"So, you're old enough to know what it means when someone dies."
"Granny said that Mommy is up to Heaven," Imani tells her. "I miss her so much. Sometimes she comes and talks to me when no one else is here."
"Imani, your Mommy loved you very much. But she can't come back from where she is now," Miss Parker tries to explain. "My mommy is in Heaven, too, Imani. And as much as I wish I could talk to her . . ."
"I know that she is," Imani interrupts. "She's there with my mommy. They're friends." Imani gets out of her chair and walks over to Miss Parker, climbing up in her lap. "I was talking to them both when you came in. They told me that they brought you here to help Daddy take care of me and that we were going to be friends forever."
"Imani, that's impossible," Miss Parker insists. "As much as we want to talk to our mommies, we can't anymore."
"At first, I was scared. Because she looked exactly like you. I thought something bad happened to you and you had to go to Heaven like my mommy. But she was really nice. She said not to worry. Because you were her little girl."
"Imani, that's impossible," Miss Parker repeats, this time with tears threatening to fall. Not so much because she didn't believe Imani, but because she was starting to get frightened that what the little girl was saying could possibly be true. How else would Imani know what her mother looked like?
"Oh, don't cry Angel Girl," Imani tries to comfort. But it only frightens Miss Parker even more.
"What did you say? Imani, why did you call me that?" Miss Parker cries. It was a name she hadn't heard in a long, long time. Since she was a little girl. A name only her mother used.
"Hey, what are you two ladies up to?" Jarod's sudden appearance startles Miss Parker. But Imani's happy to see him as usual. She jumps up into his arms, giving Miss Parker enough time to wipe away the newest set of tears streaming down her face before pasting on a fake smile.
"Not much, Daddy. Just girl stuff," the little girl giggles.
"Girl stuff, huh? You okay, Parker?" Jarod asks, concerned that she's visibly upset about something.
"What? Oh yeah. Just like Imani said. Girl stuff," she says distantly. "Actually, I was just about to ask Imani if I could take you guys out for some ice cream or something."
"Ooh, Daddy please. Please can we go?" Imani begs.
"I'm not so sure," Jarod starts, looking at Miss Parker suspiciously. "I need to see what else Miss Parker had in mind. Where else she wanted to go."
"Just for ice cream," she assures. "My car is in the shop and they said it would be ready around six. I figured we could get some ice cream and hang out awhile before I had to leave."
"Your car's in the shop?" Jarod asks, starting to get a little confused. But also relieved that she hasn't mentioned anything about calling sweepers.
"Yeah, the funniest thing. I was just passing through. My rental broke down. It's being fixed now."
"So finding me was just . . . "
"Purely a coincidence, Jarod," she admits.
"And . . . "
"And it's going to stay that way," she says finally. "As far as I'm concerned, my car broke down and I stopped here to get it fixed. End of story."
"Thank you," he mouths to her, grateful that she wasn't taking him in. "Ice cream would be great. Imani, grab your jacket in case it's a little chilly on the way home."
"Yeah!" Imani screams. She runs to get her jacket while Jarod and Miss Parker goes downstairs to wait for her.
"I really don't know how to thank you," Jarod repeats. "I knew I wouldn't be able to fight you if you were here to take me in. Not with Imani. Things are different now."
"No need to thank me, Jarod. You really don't belong there. I should be thanking you for making me see that. You two just be careful. And make sure you take good care of that little girl. Her being my namesake and all," Miss Parker says with a smile. "Oh, and speak of the little devil. There she is now."
Imani finally comes down and the three of them head towards the ice cream shop. It's a only a couple of blocks from the house, so they decide to walk. When they get there, Jarod goes to place the order while Miss Parker and Imani find a booth. It doesn't take long, and soon he joins them, his hands full of the confectionary treat.
"This really is a nice little town," Miss Parker sighs, looking out the window at the happy little town. "Just the kind of place I always pictured myself living. The kind of life I always dreamed of having."
"I know," Jarod remarks. "I remember thinking how much you'd love it here when Sharisse and I came. And the house was just like something out of one of your dreams. The little two story brick house surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn and a white picket fence. A swing on the porch and kids running up and down the street."
"You remember all that?" she asks, blushing at her silly childhood fantasies.
"Of course, Parker. Those were our dreams. Ones we made together. I'd never forget them," he says with a smile.
The smile distracts her and makes her lose all train of thought. It made her feel kind of funny, causing her heart to skip a beat and her cheeks to grow even redder. It's crazy how he could do that to her. She felt her stomach start fluttering and her hands get sweaty. She felt her senses take leave while her heart took over. It was no denying it. She was in love. In that one instant it all became clear.
She starts to nervously fidget around the table, looking for anything to get her mind off of Jarod and the sudden realization of her feelings for him. She finally spots a target in Imani.
"Look at you, Baby Girl. You're a mess," Miss Parker says, getting a napkin to clean Imani's face.
"You're pretty good at that. The mothering thing. I guess it's just a natural instinct or something," Jarod comments. He smiles at them and notices with pleasure how at ease they are with each other. He never really pictured Miss Parker as the maternal type. But seeing her with Imani sheds new light on her personality. She seemed so happy for once in her life. Carefree almost. Almost like the girl he once knew that long time ago.
"There you go, Imani. All clean." Miss Parker smiles at the girl and can't resist planting a little kiss on her forehead. "Now, can you be a big girl and go put this stuff in the trash for me? It's right over there." She points Imani in the right direction of the trash can and then turns back around to finish her dessert. But she finds that Jarod is finishing it for her.
"Sorry," he says sheepishly with a little grin. "Were you going to finish this? A banana split is huge. I didn't think a little woman like you could eat it all."
"You better watch it, Oh Sexist One," she teases. "This little woman can kick your butt. Which is what's going to happen if you don't get your spoon out of my ice cream."
"Okay, okay. I give up," he says, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "How about we share?"
"Me? Share? I don't think so." She gets a spoonful of ice cream and very seductively begins to eat it. "Hmmm. This is so good," she purrs. "You want some?"
Jarod just nods his head enthusiastically, getting more and more drawn in by the little game they were playing.
Miss Parker gets another spoon of ice cream and moves it towards Jarod's mouth in a teasingly slow fashion.
"This is good," he agrees once the ice cream finally reaches his mouth. "Much better than mine."
"Yeah, I can see that," she says trying hard to stifle a laugh, but without much luck.
"What?" he asks, wondering why she's suddenly giggling.
"Nothing," she says, still laughing. "It's just you have a little fudge on your chin. You're about as bad as the baby. Let me get you all cleaned up." She slides across the booth until she's right next to him. She reaches up and grabs his face with one hand while gently wiping the fudge from his chin with the thumb of her other hand.
"Thanks," he whispers, suddenly aware of how close she was to him. Suddenly aware of the warmth coming from her hands as they still stroked his face. And suddenly aware of their lips drawing closer and closer together.
He leans in, ready to close his eyes and kiss her when something outside the window catches his attention. Two black town cars pull in front of the hardware store across the street. Men in dark glasses get out and follow an impeccably dressed Lyle into the store.
"You liar," Jarod growls. "And to think I actually believed you. I actually believed you cared."
"Jarod, what are you talking about?" she asks, suddenly very confused. "I do care. What's going on here?"
He looks outside again and she follows his gaze to the cars.
"Oh no. Lyle," she whispers. "Jarod, I don't know what's going on here, but . . . " She stops abruptly when she notices that the seat next to her is empty. Jarod is gone. And so is Imani. She looks around the ice cream parlor in hopes of spotting them through her tear-blurred eyes. But she knows it's no hope. They're gone. And she'll probably never see them again.
* * * * * * * * *
She walks down the halls of the Centre the same way she's been doing the month since Jarod's been gone. Dazed and distracted. Not seeming to care anymore about much of anything. Except for Jarod. But, he wasn't there. He took Imani and vanished without a trace. All ties and communication cut. But can she blame him? It was something she totally expected. Why would he contact her and risk his daughter's safety? She was sad, nevertheless. With an empty feeling on the inside that was eating away at her heart. Jarod always had a way of reaching her the way nobody else could. Those few hours she spent with him and Imani changed her life in a way she could have never imagined. They made her realize things she thought she had long forgotten. Her dreams of love and happiness. Her dreams of being someone's mother. Someone's wife. But, she realized too late that that someone was Jarod. And who knew she could grow to love a child in such a short amount of time. She sighs heavily as she slips into Sydney's office and plops down on his couch.
"Parker, why don't you talk to me," the doctor pleads. "I know something is wrong. You haven't been yourself in almost a month." He walks across the room and sits down next to her, placing a reassuring hand on her back.
"I think that's a good thing," she whispers, laying her head in his lap like she used to do when she was much younger. Back then, her problems were so simple, but Sydney always treated them like they were as important as any other business he had. She draws her knees up to her chest and starts sobbing.
Sydney's a bit shocked, but goes with it. She hadn't come to him for comfort or advice in many, many years. He moves his hand from her back up to her hair and gently strokes it, soothing her until he feels that she's stopped shaking.
"Why do you say that, Parker?" he gently prods, not wanting to press her for any information she wasn't ready to give.
"Do you think I'm a bad person, Syd?"
"You're the strongest person I know, Parker. You've had a lot to overcome growing up and you dealt with it the best way you knew how given the circumstances. And though I think you could have made some different choices along the way, that's not really my place to say. This is your life. You need to do what's going to make you happy. Not what you think others would want you to do."
"I'm tired of doing what others expect me to do," she admits. "I'm tired of being a product of this place. I know the horrible, horrible things that go on, yet I do nothing to stop them. It's time for all of that to change."
"What do you have in mind?" Sydney asks her tentatively, afraid that she was about to do something foolish. But also immensely proud that she was about to do something courageous.
"Nothing right now. I just have to wait. Until the time is right. And my heart will tell me when the time is right."
"Parker, since when do you listen to your heart? You always said that sentiment was for fools," Sydney laughs.
"I was the fool Sydney. I said that because I didn't understand before. But I understand now. I now know the difference between the looks of contempt my father would give me when I failed him and the looks of disappointment you'd give me when I failed you. His came from hate. Yours came from love," she says to him with a small smile starting to grow on her face. She sits up to face him. "Thank you, Sydney. Thank you for loving me all this time. No matter how many times I disappoint you. I love you too. I could just never say it."
"You never failed me, Parker," he says, pulling her into a hug. "I thought I failed you. Because I knew how much you needed someone to love you, but I never told you."
"Syd, even if you did tell me, I wouldn't have believed it. I just couldn't have believed that someone could love someone else's child. I didn't think it was possible. Until it happened to me," she says with an even bigger smile, remembering the short time she had with Imani and feelings she developed. " I didn't know love worked that way. I always thought you loved the child born to you. Because they were a part of you. And because you can see yourself in their eyes. But love can make strange things happen. I've seen how a parent and child can look so different, but at the same time look exactly the same because of the reflection of true love in each other's eyes."
"Miss Parker, something tells me you aren't this lovesick over a little girl. I'm sure her father has something to do with it as well," Sydney says knowingly. "Are you . . . in love with him? Are you in love with Jarod?" he whispers, afraid of anyone hearing.
"It doesn't really matter," she says sadly. "Because he's gone. He's never coming back. I missed my chance, Syd. I blew it."
"Are you sure about that? I've known him about as long as I've know you. He might just need some time to cool off. He'll realize you had nothing to do with Lyle showing up that day . . ." A knock at the door interrupts him. They both look up and sees the door slowly swing open as Broots pokes his head in.
"Sorry for interrupting. But this just came. I thought you'd want to see it, Miss Parker," Broots says. He hands an envelope over to her and has to do a double take when he hears two words escape her lips.
"Thank you," she says quietly, surprising herself as much as Broots.
"No problem. I think it's from Jarod," he adds.
"Well, there's only one way to find out." She carefully opens the envelope, not wanting to damage the contents. She's shocked to find only a piece of paper inside. No gift. No joke. No cryptic message. Just a note:
THEY TOOK MY LOVE. THEY TOOK MY TRUST. I'M QUITTING BEFORE THEY CAN GET MY FAITH. CONGRATULATIONS, MISS PARKER. YOU WIN. GAME OVER.
"Game over," she whispers the last line, letting the note slip from her hand. "I blew it. I blew it."
Imani was everything to him. All he had left. She was his faith. And he'd give up everything for her. Miss Parker was more certain than ever that she'd never see them again.
Jarod was right about one thing in his note. The game was over. But, why did it feel like she was the one who lost?
To be continued in The Trust Game