#{{c;parker}}

This was never easy, delivering news from the other side. Parker honestly wished that she could simply ignore the wishes of the dead and move on about her life--but there were a lot of reasons as to why she couldn’t do that.

One such reason was that she couldn’t find it in herself to deny a troubled spirit one last request to communicate a thought or feeling to their still living loved one. Another reason was that the dead were persistent and wouldn’t let the girl rest until their request had been answered.

Parker didn’t know the man, they had met once and spoken briefly at the cafe down the street from Parker’s flower shop but that was the full extent of what she knew about him. She didn’t even know his name--not until she was bent over a piece of lined paper scrawling down what message she was being given.

She had followed him home, letter stowed carefully in her bag to await delivery until she was sure he had gone to bed and wouldn’t see her leaving the item. Parker guessed it might be a bit insensitive of her to just leave notes like this--but she really didn’t wish to deal with someone who either would be angry with her or wouldn’t believe her.

Or quite possibly both.

Parker finally mustered up enough courage to make her way up the steps, fully intending to just leave the letter in front of the door and make her hasty retreat back to the safety and solitude of her waiting apartment.

Of all the times for this to happen, it had to be when she was holding a sharpened object. Parker had been cutting up fruit, always needing something fresh with her meals when a spirit had passed through, realizing that she could hear them.

She’d frozen, as was custom so she could listen to what they wanted to say only to be interrupted by pain. Parker’s trance is broken as she gasped and dropped the knife and the strawberry she’d been cutting.

The wound in her hand pulsed with each heartbeat as crimson trickled slowly onto the floor. Parker let out a pained groan as she staggered slightly, never having done well with her own wounds.

He was at her aide in an instant, causing her to look at his face rather than her injured hand. Parker trembled, her palm aching as she extended it towards him. “Can you look at it for me?” she asked him, her voice quaking. 

Parker gasped softly as he took hold of her wrist, not due to gruff handling but quite the opposite. He was so careful and soft, his touch light against her skin. She almost pulled her hand back, not wanting him to see the marks left behind from her years spent locked away but she feared she might pass out if she had to tend to the wound herself.

She accepted the cloth given to her, closing her fingers over the balled up material, thankful she didn’t have to see the cut anymore. Meeting his gaze, Parker nods slowly, the concern he had for her overwhelming her. “Y-yes, I’m okay. I just can’t look at it.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice to sit, Parker practically collapsed into the dining chair nearest her, laying her hand on the table, still clutching the washcloth in her palm. She used her free hand to rub her forehead, trying to make herself not sit and dwell on the lengths he was going to take care of her--or how frantic her cutting her hand had him right now.

But this was suffocating.

After receiving word that Allison was in the parlor (yes, the home still had the original parlor), that’s the direction in which he headed. He pushed open the double doors, already loosening his tie as he walked through them.

“Allison, there are entirely too many people in this house, mainly those that are not even supposed to be here yet like a certain--” Parker paused, steely blue eyes settling on each person in the room who was not Allison before his eyes finally found her, his eyes asking questions his lips refused to form. 

“--good afternoon everyone. Hey Michael.” he said, not missing the snort of--disgust?--that came from Kaygen who was situated in the corner of the room, looking as agitated as Parker felt. Parker stepped further inside, accepting the arms about his waist as the boy darted from his place next to Rich, who was next to offer a hug, one that Parker returned awkwardly as if it was a new action for him. “Richard, I trust your flight was well?” he asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his face.

“Ah, a flight’s a flight--it’s really more about the destination.” Rich said with a laugh as he moved back over to the couch to practically drag the young woman with him along until they both in front of Parker. 

“Parker, this is Piper. Piper, my big brother Parker Steven Grant.”

Parker’s lips fell into a thin line as he dipped his head and offered a hand. “Parker will be just fine. It’s nice to meet you, Piper.” perfect. Dozens of people in his home and now introductions. This was exactly what he wanted to deal with.

@growinguphartless

Parker glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she watched him, halting in buttoning up the remainder of the crisp white shirt he was to wear that evening. “You’re not.” Parker told her, resuming with the buttons. 

He paused in his typing to turn around and look at her, his expression soft. He gave a nod in understanding before turning back to the computer to save and shut off as her request was something he could easily answer.

Parker did allow a moment to think about how if he had listened to a few of Darcey’s requests then maybe--Parker halted tat thought right there and got up from the desk.

Parker was quick about taking off his shoes and changing into a pair of plaid pajama pants Michael had gotten him for Father’s Day the previous year before he crawled over into bed with Allison.

“Now where to, pal?” Parker asked, grinning down at his mini-me as he swung their hands back and forth between them. Michael had woken up feeling better and Parker wasn’t going to let a beautiful day be spent indoors. Aunt Sylvia was out of town so it was just the two of them.

So to the zoo it was.

“Ummmm, let’s see.” Michael started, eyes looking around before he started to point excitedly. “The tigers, Daddy! Come on!” his tugging on Parker’s hand ceased when Michael just let go and took off, forcing Parker to run after him.

“Michael, you can’t just--” Parker slowed his jogging to a halt, resting a hand on his son’s shoulder as he viewed whom Michael had already started having a conversation with. Michael looked up at Parker, giving his dad a toothless grin.

“Daddy, it’s Allison from your work!”

So it was.

Parker smiled lightly, feeling embarrassed that he’d run into her here. She was probably thinking about how she didn’t want to see him on her day off and yet, here he was and here he stood. 

“Afternoon, Allison.”