(Six months later)

Miss Parker stirred in her bed and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom as her normal wake-up time came and went without the regular buzzing of her alarm clock. It felt strange, after all this time, to not have a reason to get up until just before Jordan needed to up and eating breakfast. There was a complete lack of a sense of urgency to get through her shower and get dressed before her son tumbled down the stairs on his way to school. Today it wouldn’t be a challenge to give him his undivided attention without feeling pressured – today, undivided attention would be a cakewalk.

She heaved a sigh and pushed herself into a sitting position on the edge of her bed. She couldn’t get back to sleep. She’d spent decades climbing from bed at this hour, before the sun had even begun to peek over the horizon – it would take work to break the habit. She slipped into the satin bathrobe and soft slippers that rested near the foot of her bed – groaning when her right shoulder chose that moment to remind her of the barometric change lately – and walked out into the hallway and down the stairs scratching her head. Coffee – that was what she needed. Of the routines that had ended yesterday, that was one that she could justify maintaining.

After all, today was a special day – the first day of her life that didn’t involve the Centre. Yesterday had seen her put a heavy chain into the metal gate at the front drive of the main Centre complex property and lock the place down once and for all. A ‘For Sale’ sign had been wired onto the tall metal bars of the gate – and the building and underground structure that stood behind it was empty and lifeless. The Centre had ceased to exist as a corporate entity – all that was left was an empty shell of a complex, the proceeds from which would constitute the final refund of Triumvirate investment.

Today would be spent with family and friends. The weather had been much more pleasant and warm lately, and Sydney’s invitation to the entire group to gather at his house for a barbeque had gone over well. Michelle would make her prize-winning chili beans to accompany the thick slabs of meat that had been purchased with the last of the Centre discretionary funds. Debbie had promised to make one of her cakes for dessert and to provide garlic bread. Parker’s contribution to the feast would be potato salad and deviled eggs. Sam had been put in charge of beverages (nonalcoholic) for everyone.

Miss Parker has halfway down the stairs before she realized that there was the aroma of fresh coffee wafting up toward her from the kitchen. That quickened her steps, and she rounded the corner already having some idea of what she’d find.

Angelo had evidently risen quite a while before her – the coffeepot was full of fresh brew, minus what looked like one helping, and there was a pot on the stove with enough eggs boiling to take care of both the deviled eggs and the hard-boiled eggs that would be needed in the potato salad. “Angelo help,” he said with a bright grin.

“I can see that,” Miss Parker acknowledged as she followed her nose to the coffeepot and poured herself a healthy dose of caffeine. “Thanks.”

Angelo’s shaggy head nodded, and he moved to sit in his regular place at the kitchen table where he’d already place his own mug of coffee. “Special day,” he stated firmly and then sipped at the hot liquid. “Celebration.”

“We’ve been waiting for this day for a long time now, haven’t we?” she replied, moving into her regular seat at the head of the table. A gentle hand reached out and brushed some of the shaggy red hair out of the child-man’s eyes.

“All free now,” Angelo nodded and ducked his head under his sister’s ministrations. “New life?”

Amazingly, Miss Parker had discovered over the months that Angelo had been living in her house on and off and helping her take care of her son that her twin’s short and sometimes cryptic pronouncements often had great meaning and thought behind them. It hadn’t taken long at all before she’d learned to ‘tune in’ to him, as Sydney had described the process to her, and understand many if not all the nuances to those brief utterances. “I think I’m going to take a nice long vacation before thinking about another job,” she announced firmly. “I’ve earned it, don’t you think?”

Angelo’s head turned, and he listened to sounds that apparently only he could hear. “Jordan up,” he announced and rose to set the third place at their table with the boy’s favorite cereal bowl and juice mug.

Miss Parker watched her brother fuss over getting things ready for his young nephew’s arrival with a thoughtful gaze. It had been nearly six months now since she and Sydney and Michelle had arrived back in Blue Cove from Utah to find Angelo huddled against Sydney’s arcadia door for warmth, nearly frozen and desperately hungry. Sydney had spent the first few days of his own recuperation at home nursing his son back to health, buoyed by Michelle’s expertise in the kitchen and Parker’s willing assistance.

The child-like empath divided his time – after he’d been pronounced once more healthy – between his father’s home and his sister’s. A room in each house had been assigned to him, and the months of steady care, fresh air and sunshine had calmed many of Angelo’s autistic tendencies, and the frequency of his panic attacks lessened considerably. Jordan adored him for the enthusiasm his uncle showed for any activity the two of them did together, and being given limited responsibility for Jordan from time to time had given Angelo reason to mature just a little too. Miss Parker suspected that much of curative magic had resided in the knowledge that he actually belonged – that someone cared. Heaven knew that she’d shared in some of that magic herself lately.

“Morning, Mommy,” Jordan greeted his mother as he bounced into the kitchen already full of the vim and vigor that would make him a handful at school. His dark eyes swept his mother’s attire with concern. “Not going to work today?”

“Morning to you too, Little Man,” she answered and then smiled at him. “And nope, Mommy’s staying home for a while – no more work.”

“Granola or Cheerios?” Angelo asked while standing in front of the open cupboard, looking at the day’s offering of breakfast options.

“Granola, Uncle Angelo,” Jordan answered absently. “Thanks.”

“Good boy,” Miss Parker nodded in approval and satisfaction. It had taken training to overcome the lack of instruction in polite interaction with others from years of Centre neglect. Only recently had the ‘thank you’s’ been more consistent and come without prompting. “Grandpa would be proud of you.” Sydney’s approval had always been an enticement to help Jordan learn his manners – and Miss Parker kept that alive by reminding her son that his grandfather cared about such things.

“We gonna go to Grandpa an’ Grandma’s later?”

“After school,” Angelo answered for his sister and brought the box of Granola to the table.

“Mommy, do you think I could invite Jimmy to come with us for a little while? He wants to see the tree house…”

“I’ll talk to your Grandpa about it,” Miss Parker told him firmly.

“Can I call him now?” the boy asked eagerly, his blue-grey eyes bright with excitement and anticipation.

“Jordan!” she exclaimed. “I doubt Grandpa’s even awake yet! I tell you what,” she added when she saw her son’s face fall. “I’ll call him later this morning and ask – and I’ll leave a message at the school office for you to pick up at noon, letting you know what he said. Can you remember to go to the office at noon?”

The dark-haired child nodded vigorously, his mouth crammed with granola.

Miss Parker’s gaze collided with and held her twin’s. “Special day,” Angelo nodded contentedly and headed to the stove to tend to the boiling eggs.

“A special day indeed,” she repeated after him and sipped again at her coffee, wondering that her life had changed so dramatically in such a short period of time. So this is freedom, she thought.

Not bad. Not bad at all!

~~~~~~~~~*

Erin stretched out her blanket on the warm sand next to Cynthia and sat down on the fabric. Above, the warm California sun beat down, promising to improve her tan considerably by the end of the day – if she didn’t burn first. It would make for an interesting change of pace from her job at the supermarket not far from her brand new apartment. “Here,” she said, tossing the tube of sunscreen to her friend, “you do me and I’ll do you.”

“Did you get a good look at that guy who came into the store last night?” Cynthia drooled as she slathered sunscreen cream on her friend’s back. “I thought I was going to need a bib.”

“I was too busy fronting merchandise in the canned goods section,” Erin shook her head. “Why?”

“A dreamboat, I tell you – an absolute hunk!” Cynthia smiled. “Business suit, newspaper tucked under his arm – I tell you, Erin, he could park his Lexus in my driveway anytime!”

Erin stiffened beneath her friend’s ministrations. “You really don’t want to do that,” she cautioned her friend. “You never know what you’d be getting yourself into.”

“C’mon,” Cynthia laughed and shook her head. “Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy. How are we supposed to scope out all the really fine and eligible bachelors if we don’t let one or two get a little closer than just over the counter, girl?”

Erin waited until her friend had finished massaging the sunscreen into her back before turning around, retrieving the tube and squeezing out a healthy amount into her palm. “Trust me, I’ve been there,” she said softly and seriously, “and I got myself in WAY over my head with the kind of guy that no girl should ever have to deal with.”

Cynthia turned her head and finally noticed that Erin’s face had paled and her lips were pulled into a tight, worried line. “Hey there! You OK?”

Damn him, Erin thought to herself, the old mantra rising easily in the back of her mind, damn him to Hell! This was what he’d stolen from her – the ability to enjoy the prospect of meeting and getting to know men without a paranoid fear of finding herself with another serial killer. Her ability to trust had been another victim of a serial killer’s violence.

“No,” she admitted quietly to her friend and began massaging sun screen onto Cynthia’s back. “I’m not OK – not about stuff like that. I’m serious – you don’t want to let any guy park his Lexus in your driveway just because he’s cute or debonair. You never know what a face like that could be hiding.” She shuddered, even beneath the warm sun. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we? Maybe like what we intend to do with ourselves for the rest of the weekend?”

Cynthia waited until Erin’s hands left her back, and then she turned around to face her friend. “You scare me sometimes, you know,” the pretty brunette told her newest best friend with a frown.

“Good,” Erin answered with unexpected vehemence. “I wish I’d had somebody scare the hell outta me once upon a time.”

“Good God – I’ve never seen you get like this.” Cynthia’s pique was turning to worry.

Erin flopped herself onto her stomach on her towel. “Sorry,” she sighed. “It’s just that six months ago, I got myself involved with what I thought was a really nice guy – just like the one you said was in the store yesterday. He turned out to be not such a nice guy.”

Cynthia’s worry began to evaporate. “You had me worried that maybe you’d once dated a serial killer or something.”

Erin turned her face away. “Or something like that,” she replied, closing her eyes.

Six months, and still the thoughts of Lyle made her nauseated. Six months – two of them spent at home with the safety of her parents’ protection around her – and she still had nightmares about Cherry Fu. It hadn’t helped that she’d gotten too curious and made the mistake of attending Lyle’s trial for the first time on the day the forensic evidence had been presented. When the rice pot had been presented, along with the report of what had been found in it, she’d stumbled from the courtroom to the restroom and lost her breakfast. It hadn’t been comforting to know that she wasn’t the only one similarly sickened that day.

Lyle had seen her at the trial – had even tried to catch her eye while being escorted in to the defense table – but she’d done her best to seem to ignore him. She was there to watch justice being done for Cherry. She’d been there when he’d been sentenced to death too. That was two months ago. She’d left for the other side of the continent the very next day.

How long, she wondered, until she’d be able to enjoy her life the way she had before? How long before what happened in Baltimore was only an unhappy memory that only got dredged up once in a while?

How long before she didn’t spend a part of every day asking herself these questions?

~~~~~~~~~*

“You’re up early, dear,” Margaret said in surprise when her oldest son gave her a surprise hug from behind.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jarod said, dropping a kiss on his mother’s cheek and then bending over her shoulder to snitch a solitary piece of fried potato from the pan. “You heard the news last night…”

Margaret nodded. “I’m still not sure I believe it,” she admitted, slapping at his hand when he tried to snitch another piece. “The Centre was a very old and established bit of evil…”

“Parker told me she was determined to close it down completely – remember?” Jarod reminded her while he moved one counter away to pour himself some coffee. “I even helped with the wording on the contract drawn up between the Centre and the Triumvirate delineating who owed whom what.”

“Parker,” Margaret repeated the name thoughtfully. “Your father and I were considering just this morning – now that the Centre supposedly is no more – going on a visit to Blue Cove to meet our grandson.” She turned her head and looked over her shoulder. “Charles thinks that Ethan will be very pleased at the idea.”

“He would be,” Jarod nodded. “He uses every excuse he can think of to go see Parker.”

She turned back to her stove. “What about you?”

Jarod sighed. Ethan had asked him several times to come along, usually just before the younger man had boarded a plane for Dover. So far, Jarod had found reason to be too busy with the legal labyrinth involved in setting up a new corporate office in Chicago by mid-summer, as Carl was determined to do. Ostensibly, he already did enough commuting half-way across the continent on Bennings’ behalf that yet another plane trip – however short – wasn’t all that appealing.

“I heard that,” Margaret told him with poorly disguised frustration. “Jarod – he’s your nephew. Kyle’s son. I’d think you’d WANT him to know our side of his family.”

“It isn’t that,” Jarod sighed again.

“Then what?”

“Parker and I don’t get along very well – at least, not when we’re in the same room,” Jarod sipped at his coffee and finally revealed the uncomfortable truth. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your visit with Jordan by causing a disruption…”

“That’s nonsense!” Margaret left the stove and walked over to the refrigerator to collect the eggs that would be scrambled. “You’re a big boy – certainly you can behave yourself for a couple of days…”

Jarod shook his head. “It takes two to tango, Mom – and sometimes the arguments aren’t all my fault.”

Margaret closed the fridge and put the bowl with the eggs on the counter next to the stove – and then she turned with her hands on her hips. “Then I suggest you call her and see if you can get her to agree to a temporary truce. For God’s sake, you two are acting like children yourselves!”

“I’ve been meaning to call her today anyway,” Jarod mused aloud. “I wanted to see how she felt now that the Centre wasn’t hanging over her head like a ton of lead.”

“Fine – discuss coming for a visit and declaring a truce for the duration,” Margaret’s suggestion sounded more like an order. “Besides, your coming will give you a chance to visit with Sydney – and maybe save yourself a minor fortune on phone bills for a while.”

Jarod grew wary. “I don’t want to make you or Dad feel…”

“Jarod,” Margaret turned one more time, “your father and I have long since made peace with the fact that Sydney raised you and we didn’t. It would be very unfair of us to ask that you avoid him while you’re there.”

“Emily won’t be happy about this…”

“Emily is going to have to grow up a little more herself one of these days,” Margaret said with a shrug, beginning to break eggs into the bowl. “She can’t continue to resent these people – not with her own nephew living among them. One fine day, she’s going to have to learn to leave the past in the past and move on. I keep hoping that friend of yours will help out in that area, but as yet…”

“I’ve tried to talk to her too,” Jarod complained softly.

“So has Ethan, and so have your father and I,” his mother informed him sadly. “But this is a burden that she’s laid upon herself – and only she will be able to lay it back down again.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So go call Parker already – or wouldn’t she be up yet?”

Jarod snorted. “Knowing her, she probably got up at the same time she usually does – only found herself with lots of time on her hands and very few responsibilities for a change.” He glanced over at his mother and found her staring at him with an expression that told him ‘why aren’t you doing as I asked yet?’ “Fine – I’m calling! I’m calling!”

~~~~~~~~~*

Sydney heaved a sigh of pure contentment. An entire lifetime he’d waited for an event like this one – and with the moment now here, he felt more alive than he ever had. His family had gathered in his home to celebrate together an event of monumental import: the demise of the organization that had so controlled their lives. His family – those two little words had been a treasure denied him for the greater portion of his life. He could still hardly believe that he had a family to reconstitute itself around him, much less that the malignancy that had forced each of them into a solitary existence – often completely ignorant of the others as a whole – had finally, irrevocably been defeated.

The scene of domestic bliss that ruled in his house that day was one so many others enjoyed without true appreciation of its value – but Sydney could barely breathe for his excitement. Broots and Sam were out on the patio, nursing the meat over the barbeque coals laid in a barbeque purchased decades ago with Jacob and kept all these years as a forlorn memento of hope in a corner of the garage. Angelo was sitting on the grass, not far away, playing with one of the first dandelion blooms to pop up in the midst of the green. Debbie and Michelle were conspiring in the kitchen – Michelle sharing her recipe for chili beans, no doubt, with the young woman that Broots’ daughter was rapidly becoming. His grandson was entertaining one of his little friends up in the tree house that he, Broots and Sam had constructed that spring – an indicator of a future filled with similar small-boy get-togethers was the number of times in the past hour he’d heard the two boys laughing.

Parker had retired into the living room with her cell phone to handle the unexpected call from Jarod. Phone calls from Jarod were rare enough that they deserved undivided attention – and Sydney knew that he heard from Jarod far more often than Parker did. And yet, despite that, he knew that Jarod had helped formulate the plan by which the Centre had been shut down. How much of the call today, he wondered, had to do with that? How many of the questions she was fielding from Jarod were questions he himself would try to ask her when they had a moment alone?

After all, Parker was one of the three miracles that had graced his life in the past half year. Their relationship, already on new ground after a heart-to-heart discussion on a snowy mountainside in Utah when neither was sure either was going to survive, had only become closer and stronger when their true bond was revealed. If ever Parker had shown loyalty and fondness for Mr. Parker, she had shown ten times that for Sydney since their rescue and return home. She made no bones about their relationship, taking pride in addressing him as “Papa” every chance she got – especially in public. She’d made sure that Jordan’s first introduction to him upon his release from the depths of the Centre sublevels had included being called “Grandpa.” She was demonstrative, reciprocating and devoted – everything he could ever have wanted in a daughter of his own. He loved her dearly, openly and unconditionally, and he positively luxuriated in having the affection returned in same measure. What was more, he was fiercely protective of her and her mental state – and the finality of the Centre’s demise posing a risk to the equilibrium she’d developed lately was something he wanted to defuse as quickly as possible.

Michelle was his second miracle. She’d rushed to his side, courtesy of Jarod’s call, and then never left him again. The house in Albany had been handed over to Nicholas when his son had decided to teach at the university there, and Michelle had finished moving her most personal belongings and her wardrobe to Blue Cove. It hadn’t taken long for the feelings both had once had for the other to reignite through the constant and almost intimate contact involved in putting on and taking off the back brace that had helped his vertebraplasty to heal properly. When Nicholas came for a visit – as much to check out how things were going with his mother as to meet his half-brother and sister – and expressed no reservations about the recent developments between his parents, Michelle announced herself as having moved into his home – and his bedroom – permanently. Parker, bereft of a female role model of parental age for so long, quickly accepted her and grew quite close. Michelle even found a soft spot in her heart for Angelo, often sitting in the chair by the fireplace with the child-like man sitting on the floor snuggled up to her knee, his head on her thigh and her fingers stroking his hair gently. In the bottom of a drawer upstairs in their bedroom, a small plush box containing a diamond solitaire sat waiting his finding both the right moment and enough courage to ask her to marry him and correct an oversight from over two decades earlier.

Last but not least, there was the miracle that was Jordan – a lively, frighteningly bright boy in whom Sydney could see both Parker and even a bit of Jarod. Never having met or gotten close to Kyle except at the moment of his death, it was only that part of the boy’s father that most resembled his former protégé that he recognized. When Parker decided not to send the boy to a school for the exceptionally gifted, but to let the boy be a boy among other boys, Sydney cheered – his grandson wouldn’t suffer from not having been given a chance at a normal childhood, as his father and uncle had once suffered. The decision had been a hard one, and it had its repercussions as the boy regularly outpaced his teachers – but grandfatherly advice and tutelage was slowly crafting a way for the boy to pursue his studies more in step with his precocious nature without becoming a chaotic influence in the classroom.

Sydney heard soft steps behind him and then smiled as Parker wrapped her arms around him from the back and laid her head against his back. “And how is Jarod today?” he asked gently.

“Fine – asking permission for his parents and himself to come for a visit to meet Jordan,” she replied, snuggling against him a bit. “He wanted to make sure that such a visit wouldn’t put us out at all – and to see if the two of us could declare a truce during the visit, so that the Russells wouldn’t have their time spoiled with our bickering.” She sighed. “Ethan would be coming too.”

“Sounds like you have another family reunion to plan for,” he replied, patting her hands at his waist. “I take it you said yes to everything – or you wouldn’t be telling me these things.” She nodded against him wordlessly. “Are you OK with this visit?”

Again she nodded. “We are going to need to talk face to face one of these fine days anyway,” she told herself firmly. “We’ve spoken off and on, but we really haven’t settled anything from Ogden.”

“Then it’s about time you did,” Sydney told her and pulled on one arm so that she came out from behind him. “You two are much better as friends than as antagonists – this spat of yours has gone on long enough.”

“I suppose you’re right…”

“Of course I’m right,” he exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. “Father knows best.”

There was a muffled snort, and then he could feel her chuckling. “I needed that,” she told him, her grey eyes sparkling again. “It’s just that I don’t want to ruin anybody’s time – including ours today – with morose thoughts.”

“That’s my girl.” He hugged her again and then set her away from him. “I suppose one of us should go outside and check on Jordan and his friend.”

“I’ll do it,” she offered. “I could use a walk with some fresh air.”

“Don’t let Jarod get to you, Parker. He’s another problem for another day.” She nodded agreement. “When did he say he and his parents were coming?”

“The day after tomorrow, and just for a short visit,” she answered. “We’ll see how that goes, and then maybe a longer visit the next time.”

“Sounds like Jarod feels just as awkward about this as you do,” Sydney commented knowingly. “Go on, now – go see what our resident monkey has been up to.”

Parker kissed his cheek and then pulled the screen door open and stepped through into the spacious and meticulously landscaped back yard. She walked past the two men discussing something about computers avidly over the sizzling meat and out across the grass toward the tall oak tree in the corner – stopping briefly to accept Angelo’s offering of the dandelion.

Sydney moved to watch her through the screen, and then once more surveyed the situation around him. This was Paradise, he decided – absolute heaven. He’d never known that life could be quite this good.

~~~~~~~~~*

Phil Carew pushed his time card into the slot at the bottom of the time clock and heard the ka-ching of the timestamp slam against the card stock. He tucked the card back where it belonged, lifted his cap and straightened his hair beneath it, replaced the cap and finally headed back toward the security officers’ lounge to collect his lunch box and unburden himself of the key-check mechanism that was hanging heavily by his belt.

Another long night was finished, and another eight hours’ worth of pay – less taxes – would be added to his paycheck. This job certainly had none of the glamour or excitement that had been promised him when he’d become a Centre sweeper, but it also didn’t make him feel like he was walking a tightrope to disaster either.

Cleveland wasn’t a bad town – Phil had a brother who was a lawyer who lived only a few miles away from the postage-stamp-sized apartment in downtown area. Having someone with whom he could spend time on the one weekend a month he had free was a fair trade for the big bucks he’d earned while being Lyle’s number two man.

The thought of Lyle and what that monster had been doing while expecting him – HIM, a mere sweeper – to watch over the whole rest of the corporation could still bring up the hackles. Had Lyle not been sentenced to die in a Maryland prison hospital at some day in the future, Phil considered that he might be willing to take his chances and hunt the man down himself. Moving into the position of personal sweeper to one of the Tower executives was supposed to have been a career-defining promotion – and Phil felt definitely cheated.

Still, he had to admit that even though there wasn’t half as much money coming in as there had been at the Centre, he could sleep at night. He’d not slept very well at all for the first month or two of Miss Parker’s administration at the Centre – he’d heard through a contact he’d kept there that she was looking for him. She must not have been looking for him that hard, because he’d never been contacted – never picked up walking back from the liquor store on the corner or pulled over while driving to or from work. And now his contact had vanished – and the phone number for the Centre itself disconnected.

Phil walked out of the new high-rise office building and down the sidewalk toward the parking garage – and once more removed his cap. It was going to be another warm night – with virtually no breeze to ease the heat radiating up from the pavement. He missed the ocean, he realized with a jolt – when it had gotten warm in Delaware, he’d often found relief after work at the Centre walking the beach line before heading to his car. He wouldn’t be doing that again for a good long time now.

The darkness of the parking structure made the heat almost suffocating. He walked to the elevator in the corner and pushed the button for the level at which he’d left his car that day and then sagged into the corner of the metal box. Mentally he berated himself. At least he had a job – although it had taken his brother’s influence and lying a bit on his resume to get it. Nobody wanted a Centre sweeper on their payroll – not after the news agencies got finished with the exposé of just what the Centre had been about a few weeks back.

He was lucky. Phil unlocked his beat-up little Honda and tossed his lunch box into the passenger seat. He had to keep remembering that. He was lucky.

If only he could believe it…

~~~~~~~~~*

“What?” Miss Parker answered the telephone with her normal greeting minus any of the usual frustration or heat that generally accompanied it.

“What time are your visitors going to be there today?” Sam asked very nonchalantly.

She began to smile and tucked the receiver between her shoulder and ear while she finished wiping off the kitchen table. “I’m expecting them anytime now – and I’m not exactly sure how long they’re going to be here…”

“Do you want me there?” he asked pointedly.

“No,” she took hold of the handset and shook her head. “I don’t want the Russells to feel like I’m still playing Centre Chairman with a bodyguard, and I definitely don’t need you getting all defensive when Jarod and I sit down to work out a few of our differences…”

“What if he hurts you again?”

Miss Parker sat down and cradled the handset gently against her head. “I’m a big girl now, Sam. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he insisted. “I just don’t like the thought of his saying something…”

“Like I said, Sam,” she soothed, “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a very long time now.” She drew her fingers through her hair to pull it away from her face. “But I appreciate your worrying about me.”

Sam was quiet on the other end of the line for a long moment. “It’s been my job to worry about you for so long,” he admitted with a touch of chagrin, “that I don’t know how to NOT worry anymore.”

Miss Parker closed her eyes. She’d been afraid of this, and wasn’t exactly sure how to handle the situation without dealing out yet another round of hurt feelings.

She’d known that Sam was watching out for her – even outside the parameters of their formerly comfortable employer-employee relationship. How far outside those comfortable parameters had been demonstrated at the family barbecue just a couple of days earlier. As the day began to wind down, Sam had come up close behind her as she stood in the arcadia door watching Broots, Debbie, Angelo, Sydney and Michelle giving Jordan – and each other – a thorough ribbing, and the two of them had chuckled contentedly at the scene. He hadn’t touched her – he hadn’t needed to. His proximity had spoken eloquently of his thoughts.

This new dynamic to their relationship – at least on Sam’s part - had been coming ever since that day in the hospital when she’d finally been given a glimpse through all of his masks to the deeper emotions. Since then, they’d worked side by side – and in a number of instances, particularly in intense dispute with Triumvirate representatives about one or another point of separation, she’d seen flashes of that emotion again. Unexpectedly, she’d catch a glimpse of either a flash of pride when she got exactly what she’d bargained for, or as a flash of anger when she was forced to concede the point. Each time, that flash had lasted just a moment longer than the one before – and it had become only a matter of time before she would have to face what was going on. Obviously, the moment for dealing with what was going on – and the shape of how things would be in the future – was drawing very close now.

“We’re going to have to talk about that one of these days,” she said with a note of hesitation.

Sam was quiet again – reading her voice over the phone with the same ease that she could read his countenance when he was standing next to her. “Yeah,” he agree with her, “I suppose we should at that.” He paused, and then asked, “What about Jarod?”

“What about him?”

“Is there anything…” His voice died, obviously because he was uncertain enough of where things sat between the two of them that he questioned his ability to inquire into that quagmire – questioned his right to be jealous or protective.

“We used to be good friends,” she told him with simple honesty. “To be honest, I’d be content if we could go back to being just good friends. As for anything more than that…” She sat and thought the idea through, aware that Sam was waiting for her answer. “…I honestly don’t know – and I don’t know how he feels either. I’m hoping that I’ll have a little clearer picture of that after today.”

“OK,” Sam said, accepting this non-answer for the time being. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Yeah. Talk to you later.”

Miss Parker set the handset down on the kitchen table and pulled her fingers through her hair again. This was going to be a stressful enough situation, she didn’t want to have to deal with Jarod and his family – knowing the history they all had between them – while having to worry about Sam and his emotional entanglements at the same time. He deserved as much focused attention on his feelings as Jarod did on his – and it was a real bolt of insight to realize that Sam was an important part of her world, just as Jarod was.

She knew Jordan adored the big man – called him Uncle Sam with a funny smirk on his face that told her that the boy appreciated other, more political, associations with that name. The boy’s fondness was returned in full measure – Sam had been the motivating force behind several “guys only” outings to local basketball games while the weather had been colder and the construction of the tree house at Sydney’s the moment it began to warm up to Spring. If she’d worried about lack of a male parental role model, Sam and Jordan’s relationship had eased many of those worries over time.

The sound of a motor pulling up in front of her house and the motor then shutting off abruptly pulled her out of her reverie. She rose, put the telephone handset back into its cradle and walked to her front door to pull it open before her visitors had a chance to knock. Jarod had been the driver – and he was already out of the minivan, along with Major Charles. The sliding door pulled back, and Miss Parker got her first good look at Margaret Russell since their very brief collision on Carthis nearly five years ago – and saw Ethan peek out at her from behind his foster mother. She walked to the edge of her front porch. “You’re right on time,” she told the Pretender and suffered a brief, awkward hug.

“Miss Parker,” Major Charles followed his son, with his wife on his arm and Ethan trailing along behind with a grin. “I don’t know that you’ve met my wife, Margaret…”

“I saw her once for a very short time several years ago,” Miss Parker told him, her eyes on the woman who had known, and perhaps even been friends with, her own mother. “Hello, Mrs. Russell.”

“Call me Margaret.” Margaret had her hand out and grasped Miss Parker’s in a grip that was steady and firm – and warm. “It’s nice to meet you properly at last under less stressful circumstances,” she said in a kind voice.

“Hey there,” Ethan greeted his big sister with a warm and tight hug that helped her relax just a little bit. “Long time no see…”

“Jordan’s upstairs in his room,” Miss Parker told them as she led the way into her living room and closed the door gently behind them. “Let me go get him…”

“You don’t have to rush off,” Major Charles told her as he found a place on her couch for himself and his wife next to Ethan. “I’m sure we’ll get plenty of time to get to know Jordan – sit down and tell us about him first…” He gestured to an easy chair facing the couch on the other side of a coffee table. “Ethan has been able to tell us some things – but we’d like to hear what you have to say.”

Miss Parker glanced at Jarod, who had yet to sit down. “Why don’t you sit down, Jarod,” she suggested. “I could get you all some tea…”

“Sit down, Parker,” Jarod told her as he folded his tall frame into the matching easy chair next to hers. “I think I’d rather hear about Jordan from you too. Like Dad says, Ethan has told us a little – but you at least had met Kyle…” His words dwindled away, but his gaze held hers hostage. “Please?”

Miss Parker sat down into the easy chair and folded her hands into her lap. Feeling a little awkward she looked into the expectant faces of Jordan’s grandparents. “What would you like to know?”

~~~~~~~~*

“Emily didn’t come,” Miss Parker said as she stood on her front porch and watched Major Charles carefully steer the minivan down the rest of the circle drive to take Jordan out to lunch and shopping. Margaret was in the passenger seat next to him, while Ethan and Jordan shared the seats behind the sliding door.

“She can’t get over what happened years ago and simply refuses to come anywhere near Delaware,” Jarod explained. “Besides, I think she and Carl had something planned with little Emily for today that they couldn’t postpone...”

Miss Parker turned and looked at him. “Little Emily?” Her brow furled. “Who…”

Jarod smiled. “Ah – I didn’t tell you. Carl found out that the little girl that survived the crash with you didn’t have any family at all – and he applied to be named her foster parent. She’s been with him for the last four months or so.” Jarod chuckled at the memories of talking to his friend since that little girl had come into his life and home. “I think he may adopt her.”

“And your sister is seeing him?”

“Well,” Jarod shrugged, “he kept asking her out – she finally gave in – and they’ve been a twosome ever since. She and little Emily get along really well too, which helps matters. Carl calls my sister Em – like the rest of us do – so there’s no confusion between Em and Emily.”

“Amazing.” Miss Parker turned back toward the inviting darkness of her living room. “How about some coffee?”

Jarod tipped his head at her. “What does your ulcer say about coffee?”

“I get one cup in the morning, and that’s it,” she told him. “That doesn’t mean, however, that I can’t make some for a guest.”

“In that case, I’ll take tea,” he told her. “I drink coffee only first thing in the morning too – otherwise, it can keep me awake at night.” He followed her through her house into the very light and homey kitchen and found himself a chair. “We need to talk, Parker.”

“I know,” she answered, pulling mugs from one cupboard and a box of teabags from another. “I hope you don’t mind herbal tea.”

“Prefer it, actually,” Jarod responded and then leaned his chin into his hand to watch her. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“I was the one that started the argument that day,” she protested, unable to look at him and grateful that she had something with which to keep her eyes and hands busy. “I should be the one apologizing. It wasn’t until about a week later, after a long talk with Sydney, that I finally understood why you’d stayed away at first – and since then, I’ve been kicking myself for not having seen it myself.” Finally she turned and leaned her backside against the counter.

“No, you had a valid point,” Jarod shook his head. “Once I got over being angry and hurt, I could see your point of view – and I felt horrible.”

“I should never have accused you…”

“You had ever right to accuse me,” he insisted. “A lot of what has gone on between us has been my trying to force you into my perspective – which wasn’t fair to you at all.”

“You were trying to open my eyes to the lies, Jarod,” she answered. “That wasn’t all about you.”

“Getting you strip-searched so that I could get away cleanly wasn’t about getting you to see the truth. Calling you at two in the morning just to piss you off wasn’t about opening your eyes to the lies, Parker.”

“Well,” she admitted, turning when the tea kettle began to sound as if it were ready to boil over, “I’ll admit that calling at two o’clock did get very old after a while.”

“It was mean, and I’m sorry.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry about a lot of things that have gone on between us – all the mean-spirited little pranks. I can see now that they were my way of controlling you – my way of disrespecting you and everything you stood for by making you as uncomfortable or humiliated as possible – because that was what the Centre had done to me. Ultimately, those pranks didn’t benefit either of us because I became what I hated most – and I think that was what hurt the most when you finally put it into perspective that day in Ogden. I thought I had stayed away to keep the nightmares at bay – when actually, I think I knew all along that one day you’d make ME see truth for a change. I pretended to be protecting my feelings when all I was doing was – again – controlling and disrespecting you and Sydney.”

She turned to look at him. “That’s quite a self-indictment, Jarod.”

He sagged just a little. “The truth isn’t always pleasant, Miss Parker. I kept pounding that into you and using it as a mechanism for my Pretends to help the underdog – all the while ignoring it where it related to me.” He finally looked up at her. “I didn’t have to have you strip-searched in Vegas, and I could have called you at a more reasonable hour. I didn’t have to wake you up constantly. I didn’t have to have a hand in giving you that ulcer.”

“I didn’t have to fight you…”

“Sure you did – any sane person would have. I fed you the truth in bits and dribbles – just enough to prove I had something legitimate to say, but I prolonged the process rather than just laying my cards out for you to see for yourself. I made the truth into a cat and mouse game.”

“No, the Centre made discovering the truth a cat and mouse game – you and I were just never free to play by anybody else’s rules but theirs,” she shook her head. “And, in some ways, I think the only way for me to realize that you weren’t just telling horrible stories about Da… Mr. Parker… and the Centre was to be forced to put some of it together for myself with your arrows showing me where to do my own looking.” She lifted the tea kettle and began filling the mugs. “And besides, I knew that what had been done to you was wrong by every ethical standard known. And yet, there I was, trying to put you back into slavery again. The fault in what went on between us for so long isn’t entirely yours, Jarod – even though I tried to make it all yours that day in Ogden.”

“That still doesn’t excuse everything I’d done over the years,” he insisted sadly. “I didn’t have to keep rubbing your nose in whatever mess I’d found. Just because I wanted to talk to you, I didn’t have to wait until two in the morning to do it. I was thoughtless and deliberately mean – and I’m sorry.”

She smiled at him. “I think I can forgive you – provided you don’t decide calling me at two o’clock in the morning to chat is a habit you want to start up again.”

He smiled back at her. “I don’t like to even be awake at that hour anymore anyway,” he told her. “I’ve become a regular nine-to-five guy; I enjoy my beauty rest.”

Miss Parker finished pouring the boiling water into the mugs, put the tea kettle back on the stove, and then picked up the mugs to carry them to the kitchen table. “We’ve both changed quite a bit from what we were back when, Jarod. You’re a ‘regular nine-to-five guy’ and I’m a mother.”

“Jordan’s a good kid, Parker,” Jarod told her warmly, “and he looks a lot like his father. I’m glad you’re giving him the kind of life he deserves. You’re doing a good job – you should be proud.”

“I am,” she said, cradling her mug between her hands, “So, now that we’ve both put on our sackcloth and eaten ashes, are things OK between us again?”

Jarod picked up his mug and sipped at the hot liquid gingerly. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

Miss Parker allowed herself the luxury of a smirk worthy of her companion. “You’ve been a little bit slow on the uptake for a genius lately,” she chuckled. “So what do you say? Friends again?”

Jarod allowed a wide smile of relief to spread across his face. “Friends again,” he agreed with a firm nod. “I’m glad,” he added. “I’ve missed being able to talk to you without wondering when or if you’d bite my head off again.”

“I got pretty defensive there for a while, didn’t I?” she responded, sipping at her tea. When Jarod nodded with wide eyes, she shrugged. “I suppose that’s an apology I owe you. Most of the time, I was defensive and snapped at you for no reason – other than the mistaken one that said that if I put you on the defensive, you wouldn’t hurt me as much. It was dumb, and it didn’t work.”

“We were both a product of our upbringing,” he shrugged too. “Perhaps we understand each other TOO well – we know where all the Achilles’ Heels are, and we aim for them the moment we feel threatened.”

Miss Parker nodded. That had always been her defense tactic – the best defense was a good offense. “So what are you doing nowadays?” she asked, changing the subject very deliberately. “What’s Carl up to business-wise?”

“Opening another center in Chicago,” Jarod replied. “I’ve spent so many hours in the air going back and forth; I’m starting to think I need to invest in airline stocks soon.” He lifted his mug. “And what are you going to be doing, now that you don’t spend your days in that place just down the road?”

She leaned forward to put her elbows on the table and rest her chin in her open palm. “I’m going to have a summer vacation – I haven’t had one of those since I was very young. I’m going to spend a lot of time with Jordan – and Papa… Sydney. And when school starts up again, I think I’m going to see about finding out just what kind of job all that college education I got back when will get me.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked and sipped more of his tea.

Miss Parker shook her head. “Not really. There is someone who’d like to start something, I think – someone who’s become a very good and dear friend,” she admitted – as much to herself as to Jarod, “but I’m not sure taking things any further than that is such a good idea, you know?”

Jarod nodded. “Been there, done that. Having a relationship fall apart and ruin a good friendship is the pits. That’s what happened to me and Zoë.”

“So you’re unattached now too?” she asked, her eyebrows soaring.

“I’m between,” he said, drawing himself up and taking another, longer sip of tea. “Like I said, things just didn’t work out with Zoë, and I haven’t exactly had a lot of opportunity to go looking for someone new.” He gazed at her evenly and openly. “The problem is that I keep measuring everyone I meet by you – and you’re a tough act to beat, Parker.”

“Jarod…”

“No, let me say this – get it out in the open. Then we can deal with it – or not, as the case might be. Either way, we’ll both be on the same page for a change.”

Miss Parker sighed and nodded.

Jarod’s dark chocolate eyes bored a hole straight through to her soul. “I can’t find anyone else because I’m constantly waiting for you. I love you, Parker – I always have. You were the first girl I ever met; I fell in love with you then and I’ve never fallen out of love with you. Zoë knew – and it finally drove a wedge between us that made it impossible to even be friends anymore.”

Miss Parker tore her gaze free and looked down into her tea mug. “I’m extremely flattered – you should know that. Any woman would be thrilled to have someone with your qualities and good looks say such things – and I am. I love you too, but…” She paused and worked up the courage to look at him directly again. “I love you as a friend, Jarod – but I’m not IN love with you. I don’t think that things would work out well between us as anything more than friends, mostly because we DO understand each other too well – and because we both have made a habit of knowing where the other is most vulnerable and attacking them there. We have an awful lot of baggage between us.”

“We could try…”

She nodded. “Yeah, we could. But, you know, I think you’re in love with your idea of who I could be – not who I AM – and that would cause trouble in the long run too when you try to change me into who you want me to be. What’s more, the moment the relationship got a bit rocky, you know and I know that we’d be right back to old habits – aiming for the hot buttons and sorest spots and hitting at them with no mercy.” Her storm-grey eyes bored into his. “You know I’m right.”

She paused for her words to sink in and could see the very moment that he realized her point – a deep disappointment filled his gaze. “You’re too important to me as a friend to risk losing completely because we don’t know how to fight fair with each other,” she told him gently. “I love you too much for that – and I don’t want to make the same mistake Zoë did. You’re my best friend – you always have been. Be my best friend again – be my confidante. Let’s just not do our mutual confiding at two in the morning anymore.”

He kept his gaze linked with hers and then finally nodded slowly. “I suppose I can be content at least that we’re not at each other’s throats anymore. Still, I think I was kinda hoping…”

Miss Parker put a hand on his as it curled about the outside of the mug. “One day you’ll find someone new, Jarod. You never know – you may already know her. She’ll know you – maybe even know the dark side of you – and accept you anyway. It won’t be a relationship with the kind of drama and fireworks that ours has been, but it will be good in its own way.”

Jarod listened to her, and found his mind slipping back to Philadelphia – to Sandy and her little boy. Maybe Parker was onto something. Just the night before, he’d had supper at the Danziger apartment, played with Sean – and felt very much at home and at peace there. In their time working together, Sandy had certainly seen almost every side of his personality that existed – and she liked him enough despite that to invite him over quite often. She was pleasant, pretty, bright, funny… Yes – maybe Parker was more on the ball in this respect than he’d been as well. “This man who would like to start something…” he asked carefully. “Does he know you that well?”

“Oh yeah.” Miss Parker nodded. “He’s seen just about every side of me there is.” She sipped at her tea and watched her old friend’s face closely. She’d seen, in the midst of his disappointment, a hesitation that spoke of a sudden insight. “But something tells me that that you already know who I was talking about – that there IS someone you just hadn’t thought of that way before.”

“There’s someone I think I may need to have a long talk with when I get home,” Jarod admitted with a sense of wonder in his voice. “I don’t know how I’ve missed it all this time.”

Miss Parker gazed at him gently. “Discovering that you love someone when you hadn’t been paying attention to your heart very much can be very… startling. You’re lucky – at least you’re beginning to appreciate what you’ve got BEFORE you end up with a dead body on the porch, like I did.” Her voice shook but didn’t break – thoughts of Thomas still had the power to hurt her.

“Parker…” Jarod reached out and took her hand in his gently.

“I’m OK,” she told him, drawing in a deep, cleansing breath and tossing her hair back. “But tell me about this woman you’re suddenly realizing you’re closer to than you thought. How did that come about?” She squeezed his hand and then freed herself to relax back in her chair. “Talk to me Jarod. Spill.” Her smile was warm and encouraging.

Jarod took a deep breath and found it remarkably stress-free. He had his best friend back and, if what she’d said were true, a future to build for himself with a woman he was beginning to think he could learn to love. He had his parents; he had begun to mend bridges with Sydney. He was free from having to live life watching over one shoulder for the Centre. His smile grew soft. “OK… Her name’s Sandy Danziger and she’s been my secretary at the Bennings Foundation.”

~~~~~~~~~*

Dr. Isaacs watched his patient shuffled across the office floor to the easy chair and plant herself gingerly on the edge of the seat. Natalie Schaeffer’s case was one of fairly straight-forward post-traumatic stress syndrome – but so far, it hadn’t responded to any of the standard treatments.

Natalie had been hospitalized after her rescue from the mountains of Utah and then released – with an appointment with a United Airlines psychiatrist to help her deal with what she’d been through. Unfortunately, Natalie hadn’t kept the appointment, and had slipped very quickly into a deep depression. After a failed suicide attempt, she’d been brought here, to Bellevue, for treatment and supervision.

“How are you today?” Isaacs asked with his usual, calming smile as he pointed at the chair his patients sat in during their talks with him.

“Fine.” Natalie’s voice was flat and uninflected.

Isaacs was genuinely pleased – he hadn’t needed to prompt her more than once for a response. “Do you feel like continuing our discussion from last time?”

At that, Natalie’s eyes widened and she began to shake her head. “No…”

“Until you deal with things that happened on the flight…”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Natalie insisted, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? She didn’t want to think about… No – that was a trap! She began rocking back and forth in her chair, pulling her attention from the doctor and humming a soft little tune.

Isaacs sat and watched her for a moment sadly, then pressed a button on his intercom. “Miss Schaeffer is finished with her appointment – you can take her back to the day room.”

A white-garbed orderly with a relatively kind face – rare for the types that normally applied for jobs in that position – gently took hold of Natalie’s elbow and helped her to her feet. Isaacs looked down into the file folder that chronicled the progress, or lack of progress, in the Schaeffer case and noted down an increase in the prescription for Zoloft. Counseling to desensitize her to the circumstances of the crisis she’d survived would be nigh to impossible if he couldn’t penetrate the shell of terror that had hardened around the slightest thought of the experience.

At the rate she was going, Natalie Schaeffer would be a client of his – and a ward of the State of New York, at the expense of United Airlines – for a long time to come.

~~~~~~~~~*

Sam folded his arms over his chest, looking out over the sand to the ocean beyond and watching the sky and water grow dark with the fading of the sunset on the other horizon. Soon all he would be able to sense would be the sound of the waves.

It had been a very long three days with Jarod and his family in town visiting Parker and Sydney, and he was starting to get restless. He’d never felt quite so constrained in his life, trying to give Miss Parker the room she needed to maneuver and figure out where she stood with these people who were bound to be an important part of Jordan’s future. For over ten years, he’d had almost daily contact with her. And now, after three days with no contact with her at all, he felt like an outsider – someone who was associated with but didn’t belong – not really. It was a cold feeling – a very lonely feeling.

Sydney had told him last night over the phone that the Russells were leaving today – probably right after breakfast. Jarod had to get back to his job at the Bennings Foundation, Ethan had his job to return to, and Margaret and Charles wouldn’t want to stay in Blue Cove without either of their sons. So, with any luck, life would be getting back to normal – more or less. At least he hoped so. He was fairly sure he’d find out sometime soon after the white minivan was gone.

He didn’t really blame the Russells for their curiosity about either their newly-discovered grandson or his mother – or for having made arrangements to stay in town long enough for a little of the novelty to wear off on both sides. Sydney had reported that Jordan had told him that he thought his new grandparents were “really neat” – and that he was looking forward to going to Virginia to visit them on their farm sometime later in the summer.

Still, it was hard to stay away from the summerhouse. With so very little else to do with his time anymore, he’d found himself running surveillance on Miss Parker’s residence – watching the comings and goings of that white minivan and seeing just which set of people was taking it out – protecting her without being obvious about it. The Russells had made arrangements to stay in the little Wildflower Inn on the outskirts of Blue Cove, but had gotten back to their rooms so late on both evenings that he’d decided it was too late to try to call Miss Parker and see how she was doing. He’d even stayed away for the entire day today – long after that breakfast departure time had come and gone – afraid to come face to face with any decisions she might have made in the interim.

Frustrated, he stalked along the edge of the grassy escarpment. How had it come to this? When had he decided to ignore his own counsel and let himself become even more emotionally attached to his boss than he’d been, to the point that the thought of another man being close to her was driving him nearly to distraction? For ten years he’d been able to tether his regard for her into a big brother’s watchfulness and protectiveness – but in the last six months, something had changed. It had started in Utah, on the day he’d crossed his invisible line – but whatever it was, it hadn’t been just him.

Miss Parker had softened toward him after that day. She was still capable of snapping and barking orders right and left – still more than likely to wear her Ice Queen persona like a shield and simply overwhelm any disagreement or obstacles in her way. But there had been a sharp reduction in the number of times she barked at HIM. If anything, she’d shown him more trust and confidence – made him directly responsible in capacities that he’d never been involved in before, asked his opinion. And that was only during their work hours.

There had been a moment at the family picnic at Sydney’s that he knew he’d come close to crossing that invisible line again – and that Parker had just stood there, waiting perhaps to see what he’d do. She’d been standing at the screen door, watching the controlled mayhem going on outside – and he’d come up behind her and stood with her, chuckling at the antics. If he’d had any balls at all, he would have put his arms around her right then and there – to see if he’d just been dreaming. If she’d punched him – as she surely would have if he was off-base, probably knocking him unconscious in the bargain – he’d have known to back off and maintain the distance. As it was, this uncertainty was sure to give him a sour stomach before long.

He glanced over his shoulder at where he’d left his car – invisible in the darkness now. She’d had all day to relax after her visitors had left. Maybe he’d wait until right about Jordan’s bedtime before knocking on her door. They needed to talk – privately.

One way or the other, he had to know how things sat between them now – even if it meant hearing things he didn’t want to hear. Not knowing hurt a helluva lot worse.

~~~~~~~~~*

There was stirring behind the apartment door, and then the door cracked open to the limit allowed by the security chain. “Boss!” Sandy exclaimed and then closed the door enough to disengage the chain entirely so she could open it. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” Jarod asked, breathing in the familiar air of good cooking that seemed to permeate every corner of the Danziger apartment. It smelled like a home – his mother’s house had a very similar ambience to it. No wonder he’d always felt so comfortable here. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

“What’s the matter – you run out of Pez refills again?” she asked with a wicked smirk as she stood aside for him. “You’re getting lazy about buying them for yourself again…”

“Cut me some slack, will ya?” he chuckled back at her as she closed and secured the door behind him. “I’ve been out of town all weekend.” His eyes sought her out and took in the very casual faded jeans and tee shirt she was wearing, and the fact that her light brown curls were pulled back and away from her face into a ponytail that hung halfway down her back. “You look like you’ve been relaxing nicely in my absence. Where’s Sean?”

“It’s after eight – Sean’s in bed.” She led the way into her kitchen and gestured at the table there. “And you didn’t come here just to discuss my dress code on my days off either, I’m sure,” she observed pointedly as she picked the tea kettle up and brought it to the sink to fill it. “What’s up?”

“I had a chance to do some thinking while I was away,” Jarod admitted, watching her bustle with a slightly more observant and aware eye. Sandy looked good in faded jeans and tees, he decided – just as good as she did in her power pantsuits that made her look at least as much an executive as he was. “And I had a friend open my eyes to a few things that have been right in front of my nose for a while now.”

Sandy turned, and her hazel eyes studied the man in her kitchen critically. “That doesn’t sound good,” she began cautiously. “Weren’t you going back to Delaware to visit that woman you’ve been mooning over for years?”

Jarod’s eyes widened in surprise. “I haven’t been mooning…”

“Like hell you haven’t,” she shook her head and opened the cupboard door to pull down a tea pot and two mugs. “For your information, Mr. Suave, your voice changes when you have her on the phone.” She glanced at him in anticipation of another protest of innocence. “I’d be a damned poor secretary if I didn’t notice these things, Boss – you know that…”

“My name’s Jarod,” he corrected her in a low voice. “We’re off the clock, remember?”

That went back to a discussion held several years back in which he’d asserted that non-business hours meant that all semblance of hierarchy or authority got left in the office. She’d reluctantly agreed at the time, but wasn’t about to back down now. “We’re talking about business dealings…” she insisted.

“No, actually we’re not,” Jarod disagreed with her. “Yes, I went back to Delaware; and yes, I did visit a woman that I’ve known for most of my life.”

Sandy turned away to reach for the glass jar in which she kept the herbal tea bags she knew were Jarod’s favorite. “What happened – she tell you ‘nothing doing’?”

“Not exactly. She pointed out where we needed to limit our relationship to one of being just friends,” he admitted slowly. “After a while, I realized she was right.”

“Just friends works just fine,” Sandy commented quietly.

“True,” Jarod rose and walked over to behind her. “It has,” he conceded. “But I’ve had the time to think about things, and I’m wondering if there’s room for something more.”

“With her?” she asked slightly more sharply than she’d intended.

“With you,” he answered gently. “Once I finally admitted that what I’ve been dreaming about was an illusion, I started to get a deeper appreciation of what I’ve actually had all along – with you, with Sean…”

Slowly Sandy’s hands stilled on the counter. “This isn’t funny, Jarod.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Sandy,” he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m very serious.”

“You’re my boss…” she tried again, reaching with a hand that shook to tear open the wrapper to the tea bag.

“I’ve been more than that for a long time,” Jarod disagreed, reaching past her to take the tea bag out of her fingers, put it on the counter, and then turn her to face him. “Face it – you don’t invite someone you only think of as your boss to eat dinner with you three nights a week and sometimes more often. You don’t sit and watch TV with your boss at night – or have him put your son to bed.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted it until she couldn’t help but look him in the eye. “That isn’t standard employer-employee practice, is it?”

“You didn’t have anyone,” she complained very softly. “I thought you could use a friend. Sean…”

The finger under her chin became a hand at her cheek. “Just friends was just fine for a while, remember? But now I think I’m ready to see if we could try for more.” His dark chocolate gaze caught and held her hazel one tightly. “If you’re interested, that is. All you have to do is say the word, and we can go back to just employer-employee...”

“I’m interested,” she replied slowly, her green-flecked eyes gazing deep into his. “I’ve always been interested. I just didn’t think you’d ever…”

“Wake up and smell the coffee?” he finished for her with a gentle smile.

“Something like that.” Her hands began to slip from where they had been pushing against his chest defensively to where they could slide around his waist loosely.

“I like this,” Jarod stated in a low and purring voice as his other hand found a spot on her waist as well. She smelled like fresh flowers. Why had he never noticed that either?

“So do I,” she responded in an equally low and vibrant voice.

Jarod bent down to her and brushed his lips against hers very lightly. “I think I like that too,” he noted with a growing smile.

“Really?” she came back, her eyes beginning to twinkle.

“Let me try again,” he suggested and kissed her a little more firmly, his fingers cupping the back of her head. “Oh yeah,” he nodded with his lips so close to hers that they brushed lightly, “I definitely like that a lot.”

His arm tightened and drew her closer as he lowered his lips to hers again – and began building his future in earnest.

~~~~~~~~~*

Sam barely had to knock on the door before it swung open wide. “I’ve been hoping you’d stop by,” Miss Parker told him as she stepped aside for him to move past her. “It’s late – what took you so long?”

“I’ve been staying out of your way,” he answered honestly. “Giving you room to do whatever it was you needed to do while Jarod and his family were around.”

“They’re gone, Sam,” she declared quietly. “They’ve been gone all day. Even Jordan’s already gone to bed.”

“I know.” He gazed at her, his eyes resting softly on her face. “I thought you could use some time to just relax from having guests around.”

“Still watching out for me, aren’t you?” she asked, obviously not expecting an answer to a rhetorical question. She turned and closed and locked the door. “I think I could use a drink – would you care to share a nightcap with me?”

“Sure.” Sam let her lead him into the living room and gesture him into a seat on the couch while she continued on to her liquor cabinet. “Brandy, if you have it,” he added.

“Brandy it is,” she replied, turning over two old fashioned glasses and pouring a splash of dark liquor into the bottom of each. She walked back to the couch and handed him down his glass before taking a seat at the opposite end. “Banzai!” she toasted, lifting her glass to him.

“To life getting back to normal,” he responded and took a careful sip of the rich liquid.

“I think it’s time we had our talk,” she stated slowly and softly, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I know,” he repeated. ‘Their’ talk would probably be mostly her talking to him, he realized. She was already aware of where he stood. “How did it go with Jarod?” he asked, hoping to put off the inevitable for just a moment or two longer.

She nodded. “It went well – we didn’t fight or argue at all.”

“That’s good,” he commented, wishing she’d be a little more forthcoming.

“We decided we could be best friends again,” she added as if hearing his wish and deciding to grant it.

“Best friends,” he repeated slowly, his eyes seeking hers with his brows raised in surprise. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” she nodded firmly. “Jarod and I know each other too well, and we’ve been through too much, to try for anything else.”

Sam sipped at his brandy, hardly tasting it as it warmed him from the inside out. “I always thought he had a ‘thing’ for you – and that you had one for him. It was the Centre that kept you two from getting together all this time.”

Miss Parker was quiet for a moment. Sam wasn’t saying anything that she hadn’t thought herself at one point or another over the years. More – he’d been around and with her long enough to watch her respond to Jarod and his antics since he escaped. He knew what he’d seen. “The Centre did keep us from getting together,” she admitted. “I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t been the people we were raised to be – if we hadn’t had the Centre influencing and controlling our relationship from the start.” She sipped at her brandy and then looked at her former sweeper intently. “But those were the breaks – and we have to live with the consequences. Part of that is recognizing that we’d destroy each other trying to stay together. We’ve never fought fair with the other – I don’t know that we’d be smart enough to change that much now.”

“And Jarod agreed with you?”

“Once he figured out that I was right, yes,” she answered. “He didn’t want to ruin our friendship by trying for something more anymore than I did. And after he stopped chasing rainbows with me, he realized he has someone else in the wings that he hasn’t really talked to yet.” She smiled softly. “We spent most of that first night talking about her.”

Sam stomped down on the thrill of hope that surged within. “What about you? Do you have someone else in the wings?”

She turned to face him on the couch, tucking one foot beneath her. “No, not really,” she replied with frankness. “Right now, I’m just working on getting used to being a full-time mother and daughter.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then drained the rest of his drink in one large gulp. It was now or never. “I was thinking – hoping really,” he began, putting his glass on the coffee table and turning to face her directly too, “that maybe now that things are changing, we – you and I….”

She mirrored his actions in tossing the rest of her drink down and then setting her glass aside while she swallowed. When she turned back to him, her grey gaze had softened. “Sam,” she said softly, “what do you want?”

“Permission to step over the line, ma’am,” he answered honestly.

“I’m not your boss anymore,” she reminded him carefully.

“That doesn’t matter. I still need your permission – now more than ever. I wouldn’t want to try anything that I didn’t know you were comfortable with,” he countered. “I don’t want to ruin anything in reaching for more than I have a right to.”

“Sam…” Her heart went out to him. He was sincere, and he was devoted – and for once, the smoldering emotion he’d kept so carefully hidden for so long was shining and obvious in his eyes. “I’m not ready for that kind of relationship right now – not with you, not with Jarod, not with anybody,” she said as gently as she knew how, reaching out for his hand. “Don’t you see? My life has been turned upside-down, inside-out and backwards – and I’m barely able to keep my eyes on making sure I stay right-side up right now. I’ve grown up never knowing anything except working at the Centre – and now the Centre is gone completely and I’m unemployed. I’ve never been good with kids – and now I’m a full-time mother. I’ve been a part of a thoroughly dysfunctional family – and now I have to adjust knowing that I have a father and brother who are as devoted to me as I am to them.”

“Miss Parker…”

“Parker,” she corrected him gently. “Miss Parker was someone who existed wholly at the behest of the Centre, Sam. Now that the Centre’s gone, so is she.”

“Parker,” he amended cautiously, “I know you’ve probably only thought of me as muscle…”

She shook her head. “Not for a while now – and you know that. It isn’t wise to give mere muscle the responsibilities I’ve given you over the last few months.” His face had fallen and she could almost feel the way in which he was pulling in on himself in disappointment. “Sam! Don’t do this! I need you…”

“You don’t need me,” he said quietly. “A good executive assistant would do as well…”

“Stop that,” she snapped at him in a faint echo of her old imperiousness that brought his gaze up to hers sharply. “I couldn’t trust an executive assistant the way I trust you. You’re an important part of my world, Sam – I need to know you’re behind me so that I can make the transition from Centre bitch to something more realistic and normal.”

“But I love you,” tumbled from his lips before he had a chance to stop the words – and once out, he didn’t have the desire or the energy to regret them. “I’m in love with you.”

Miss Parker’s eyes filled with tears. “I know you are,” she replied softly. “And, I suppose, in a way, I love you too. I’m just not ready to give you what you want from me. I’m not IN love with you. Not yet, anyway.”

Sam’s heart was sore enough that it leapt at a chance to grasp at a thin straw of hope as it floated past in the wind. “Not yet, you say.” He brought his other hand together to hold hers between the two of them. “Does that mean that maybe… somewhere down the road…”

“The future’s not set,” she replied calmly. “I don’t know what will happen between now and a year from now. But I do know that, whatever does happen, I want you in my life – in my family’s life. Jordan adores you and has complained several times that you’d been gone too long lately. I’ve missed you too – I’ve missed my protector.”

“Is that all that you want – a protector?” he asked, not exactly sure if he could pull his emotions back and stow them away like that – not now that he’d had the luxury of giving them a full airing.

“For now, yes,” she nodded, “or at least a gentleman willing to be patient and wait for me. Give me some time to figure out just who I am and what I want, now that the Centre isn’t controlling my every thought and action anymore.” Storm-grey eyes pleaded with him. “Love me or not as you choose – just don’t push me for more than I can give you right now. Please?”

“It’s going to be hard,” he admitted, “but I’ll try to be patient.”

Miss Parker’s smile of relief was wide. “Thank you,” she whispered, moving unexpected toward him and giving him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

Sam’s arms closed around her and held her close, luxuriating in the unexpected opportunity to know what it meant to hold her the way he wanted to. “I’m not going to be able to stop loving you, you know,” he murmured into her ear with a husky voice.

“I’m not asking you to,” she replied, pushing herself away before she could send any mixed messages. “I’m just asking you to give me time and space to figure things out first. We can take it day by day from there.”

“Mommy? Is Uncle Sam here?” came the sound of a small voice on the stairs.

Sam could feel Miss Parker jump slightly next to him at the sound of her son’s voice. “Yeah, I’m here, Buddy,” he replied in a deceptively calm voice. He threw his arm over the back of the couch so he could look back at the stairs and the small boy now coming down the last few steps. “But your mom told me you were already in bed. What are you doing up so late?”

Jordan padded over with bare feet to stand in front of the couch and face the big man. “I missed you,” he announced in a slightly petulant voice. “You haven’t been here for days and days, and I was hoping you’d come over today… Don’t you like us anymore?”

“You had visitors, Buddy,” Sam reminded him as he reached out and pulled the boy onto his lap and then felt Miss Parker lean in closer as well. “That was your family, and they came a long way to get to know you. You needed to spend time with them – not me.”

“But you’re my family too,” Jordan insisted and then looked up into his mother’s face for confirmation. “Isn’t he, Mommy?”

Storm grey eyes gazed deep into brilliant blue pools. “Absolutely,” she replied warmly, “Your Uncle Sam has just as much place here as Uncle Angelo does.”

“See?” Jordan exclaimed and curled up on Sam’s lap, leaning into the big man’s chest and folding himself into a content little bundle. “You belong.”

Sam’s arm closed around the boy tenderly and held him close. He felt when the boy relaxed into slumber after just a few more moments of silence. “He’s asleep again,” he announced in a amazed whisper.

“I’m not surprised,” she answered softly, “he wore himself out fussing that you weren’t anywhere around. Do you mind doing the honors of putting him back to bed? He’s missed you so,” she whispered as she leaned over, her hand smoothing the hair out of her son’s face and then landing on Sam’s arm. “I’ll freshen our drinks while you’re gone. Besides, I think we’ve said everything we needed to for now – haven’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said finally and watched her get to her feet before rising as well.

“We’re going to have to work on your becoming more authoritative from now on,” she said from halfway across the room, shaking her head at him, “because reminding you that I’m not your boss anymore all the time is going to get very old very quickly. You don’t say ‘yes, ma’am’ to someone you think of as a sister, Sam.”

“I’ve never had a sister before, and I sure as hell don’t want to think of you as one for very long,” he defended himself quietly so as not to rouse Jordan from his slumber and heard a snort of amusement from the direction of the liquor cabinet.

Miss Parker smiled to herself as she unstoppered the carafe and poured two more liberal dashes of brandy into the glasses. This was almost comfortable terrain – she’d been in this place emotionally before. Thomas had been very patient and waited for her to come around, and yet never hidden his true regard for her. Sam was cut from the same cloth, she thought as she turned back to the couch and put the glasses back on the coffee table. He was stable, had long since proven himself a patient man and evidently was determined that she learn to love him back – Thomas had been much like that.

In that moment, she knew as surely as she knew anything that the time would come someday when she’d be ready for Sam – just as the time had come when she’d finally been ready to love Thomas. And this time, she knew that there was no Centre agenda to stand in her way – or do harm to the one she loved to get to her.

Sam began to mount the stairs with the small boy in his arms, with each step slowly coming to appreciate what he’d just been given.

He belonged. He had a place here. He wasn’t where he wanted to be – not yet – but there was plenty of time now to give Mi… to give Parker the space she needed to feel secure enough to risk her heart again before he’d press his suit again. As for her son… He looked down into Jordan’s peaceful face pressed against his breast and knew himself to be totally committed to making sure this child’s future stayed bright and safe. He would help Jordan grow up to be the kind of man he would be proud to claim as his own son – even if he had to remain an ‘Uncle Sam’ to the end of his days.

This was family. He belonged here – he wasn’t an outsider. And as he walked down the short hallway to the bedroom door, he knew that even though he had yet to win Parker’s heart, he’d never be without love and family in his life anymore – that he’d never have reason to feel left out in the cold of loneliness again.

FIN

Author's note

I would like to thank Elisa, Lisa and Mercy for sticking with me and giving me consistent feedback on this story. I'd like to thank Pam and Laura for their time in beta checking my chapters - you gals are the greatest! And I'd like to thank my son, Lee, for helping me craft the skeleton of the story - you and I make a killer team, kiddo!

-MMB

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