Little Miss Parker

Miss Parker's Residence
Blue Cove, Delaware

Miss Parker's POV

I'm sitting here, trying to live my little girl's life through the few pictures and mementos she owned. When I first came home I thought Jarod was going to torture me as usual before I realized how caring he was being about all of this. I walked sluggishly through the door, early in the evening, having left for home early. I went to my answering machine instinctively. I pressed the red button.

"Hey, Parker. This is Jarod. I left you a few gifts. I know they won't make it better and they won't make the regrets go away, but you still have him and her. They need guidance and I don't think I can give it alone. I loved her too, Parker. I care a lot. Just call for me and by your side I'll be. Take care, Pareerou( face like a fairy)." That brought a singular smile to my face.

That was three hours ago. I haven't smiled since then. I contemplated getting a drink of wine, but decided that I wanted to have a clear head when I went through these things. Before I got started I went upstairs to change. As I walked into my bedroom I saw a deep sky blue, floor-length teddy laying across the bed with a tiny picture frame of the same color on top of it. I walked over to it. It's a picture of a tiny, little baby. Only the gentlest wisps of hair cover her head. Her eyes are a startlingly familiar blue-gray. Dorothy's first picture. I carefully pick up the picture and the dress and head towards the bathroom for a quick shower. I don't feel the need to languish in a bath at the moment.

After a brief and hurried shower, I don the unsurprisingly comfortable dress and the accompanying robe. I pick up the picture from the place where I sat it on my bathroom countertop. I scrutinize the picture intensely. I'm looking for any indication this this is just another of Jarod's little games. I don't really have a daughter and neither does Jarod, but my 'Inner Sense' tells me to face reality. I have two kids out there who need me and maybe I've never met them, but now I know why I felt empathy for that young child. She is my very own little girl. I look at the few pictures scattered around me. This is a little girl I don't know, I've never met, and I love her so much, it hurts to even think of it.

To my left is a silver picture frame. It has a little giraffe on it, next to the picture. In it is a picture of Jarod, Ella Catherine, Dorothy Sasha, and who I'd guess to be Christopher Thomas. I can see the resemblance immediately. They all have dark brown hair. Where the girls' eyes are blue-gray, like mine, Christopher's are a sweet and humble brown, like Jarod's. Christopher is so little. He couldn't be a quite a year and half, if that old.
There's so much life here, but no freedom. No clouds, no rain, no sun. I turn to my right and there's something new there. It's a tiny blue dress, one you'd probably see on a three year-old. I pick it up and something falls out. Another picture. This one looks like it was taken in a bustling mall. Jarod has his arms around an even younger smiling Dorothy. My gaze wanders and I can't believe what I see. It's me in the background, just walking out of a shop with Thomas in tow. I'm feeling largely overwhelmed, so I gather everything up and retreat to my sanctuary. Mom's old drawing room was turned into a bedroom for my daughter, a daughter I'd made up in my mind months ago after Thomas had died. It had walls covered in orchid wallpaper, the ceiling was a solid lavender and the carpet was a dark silky purple. There was a crib turned bed in the farthest corner, a changing table turned vanity in the closest corner, and a little desk on the far side of the room. I close the white door behind me and bask in the pure innocence of this room, the love for someone thought imaginary that I put into this room. The hours of work, the care. I painted every orchid by hand, made the bed myself, installed the locks. This room was…is my dream for my future. A little girl I had hoped would get to live here one day, a little girl who now can't. I step to the closet doors. I pull the handles apart and the doors fold out of the way. There is row after row of purple clothes in here. Some for a newborn, some for a preschooler. One day I just went baby crazy. I got on my computer and looked up every designer baby store on-line and almost maxed out my credit cards. I strayed away from the traditional pink. My little girl was gonna be of a different breed, so she should have a different color. I got that idea and ran with it. I hang up the satin blue dress in the section where purple dresses off it's likeness hung. It stood out like a sore thumb with it's blue in this wave of amethyst, yet it fit like the estranged family member.' Still family, just different.' I turn 360º in a circle and took in what my child had missed. All of this would have been hers, if I'd known…somehow. Still, I feel I knew her when she lived and I still know her with her gone. 'Her favorite colors were lilac, lavender, purple, and amethyst. She would have loved it here.' My mother's voice says this. I don't question her, I just nod to myself in the empty room. I pick up the mementos I placed on the bed upon entering the room and make my way towards the door again. I stop with a hand on the knob. 'Should I leave one of these pictures here?' I contemplate this for a moment before discarding the thought. I can't choose which of them I'd be willing to part with for the night. With a final look I close the door behind me and step out into the hall. I walk leisurely down the hall towards my bedroom, my eyes drifting over the pictures confirm that they're still there and not some unpleasant figment of my imagination.

I walk into my bedroom, slipping off my robe along the way and laying it across my chaise lounge chair. I sit two of the pictures on one of my nightstands and the last one on the other one. As I consider changing their position I see another picture on my pillow. Jarod's been here. I'm too shaken to go after him. This is a picture of me talking to a little girl I met in a park somewhere on the way to follow up on a lead on Jarod. Her ball had rolled across the street, which she wasn't allowed to cross and she asked me to get it for her. So, I got it. She then asked me to take a picture with her. I asked her why. She blushed and said she liked to be in pictures with pretty things. That made me feel good and would later make up for my not catching Jarod. I should've noticed the moment I met her how much she resembled my mother, namely, me. I'd met my child before and hadn't even known. I put the new picture on the nightstand that's the barer of the two. I pull back the covers and lie down, but I don't know which way to turn. All four pictures present me with the things I have and have had. I just don't know where to focus in all this. A solution becomes clear to me. I lean over the vacant side of my bed a retrieve the two pictures from the nightstand. I give them a fleeting glance before standing them alongside the other two. There, now maybe I'll sleep tonight. I lay my head upon the pillow and attempt to do so, my mind still reeling from this afternoon's revelations when…

RING RING RING !!!

I'd just fallen into a lightly troubled sleep when that annoying ringing reaches my ears. Jarod. What other lab rat would call this late? I look to my clock. At…2:34 in the morning. I sigh. I grudgingly pick up the phone.

"Hello, Jarod," I sigh miserably

" JAROD!? Miss Parker, now what would Jarod be doing calling you at this time of night?"

'Lyle'. I guess he could be considered a lab rat too. Don't want him to feel neglected. Figures.

"Lyle! Why the hell are you calling me at this time of night ?"

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