Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Well, some of them are. But the important ones are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this . . . . Blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.

 

 

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 hosts 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

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