Lake Catherine, Ben Miller's B&B; Sunday morning
Parker woke up early, the sun in her eyes, and for a moment didn't know where she was. The light was wrong for Rome, the bed was wrong for Moscow, the sounds were wrong for Fandom. She lay there, and finally closed her eyes, and it came back: Lake Catherine. She was at Ben's. Remembering made her so relieved that she turned over and went back to sleep, knowing she was truly on vacation for the first time all summer.
A few hours later she woke up again, knowing where she was. She padded downstairs barefoot, in shorts and a cotton blouse after taking a shower, not bothering to dry her hair. No one here would expect perfection from her; and much as she liked looking her best, it was relaxing to not have to deal with it here. No one would be impressed. Just amused.
"Pancakes?" Ben offered as she walked into the kitchen. "Or maybe you want waffles? You're probably a waffle girl."
"That sounds good," Parker said, yawning and taking a seat at the breakfast bar, then pouring herself a cup of coffee. "It's quiet. Where are all the guests?"
"Most of 'em had things to do by noon on a Sunday, Miss Sleepyhead." Ben smiled at her, shaking his head. "Jet lag getting to you?"
"I think the whole summer just caught up to me. I slept fourteen hours." Parker tilted her head on her upturned hand and slowly sipped her drink. "How have you been? Lots of visitors this summer?"
"Enh, some here, some there," Ben said, pouring batter into the mold. "Fourth of July we had a good many. We'll be full up on Labor Day." He smiled at her. "And how has your summer been going?"
In bits and pieces, she told him about her time in Moscow and Rome. Not just incidents like the carjacking, or the mugging in Gorky Park; things like the sounds of the Via Turino, and the startling size of the outsize buildings in Moscow. The blue cars with lights on them for dignitaries, speeding through traffic past the Kremlin. The music at FAQ Cafe, and talking with Olga and Anna. Seeing Giusseppe, the light on the water of the Mediterranean, seeing porpoises from the cliff where Giusseppe's church was perched. Walking through Vatican City with Zero, video camera in hand, talking a mile a minute. Visiting with the Mother Superior of the school she'd attended in Rome, the food at the cafe after attending the Bolshoi.
Things that Sydney liked to hear about, but questioned, as he always did. Sydney got more of the truth because of that; he knew about Casimir, if not about the mole in Kamchatka. Knew she'd been scared in Rome, even if she didn't say so to Ben. He got less of her emotional state just because he asked for details. She suspected Ben did guess that she was keeping things back, but didn't push. He seemed to get as much out of the trivialities and the reactions which would have bored her father, as Sydney got out of the grudgingly shared facts she didn't want to revisit. Then again, her father had been there, seen that, and now they had a short-hand between them of things they didn't need to explain to each other about those cities, and the people in them, and how the Parkers fit into those worlds.
Sometimes it struck her that she spoke three different languages with Ben, Sydney, and her father, even when she stuck to English.
"So, what do you want to do today?" Ben asked finally, as they were clearing away the brunch dishes. "And you never said, but does your father know you're here?"
Maybe. If I ask you, will you tell me? Not that she wanted to know. That would ruin the visit, spoil the peace, if she had to deal with her mother's possible infidelity. "Walk into town, look at the shops, maybe. Or take a walk around the lake." She squinted out the window at the wind moving through the trees, and lightly said, "He thinks I'm in L.A. I paid an actress who looks like me to stay at the Chateau Montmarte under my name and shop for the next month and a half. He's in Africa visiting the Centre stockholders and board, and I couldn't go. So. It doesn't matter where I am, but it's simpler if he doesn't know about this place."
Ben was silent as he wiped down the breakfast bar, then carefully wrung out the dishrag in the sink. "You shouldn't have to lie to him. You don't need to protect me, Parker. I'm the adult here, and if he doesn't want you to visit, then I don't want to be getting you in trouble with him."
"I can lie to you and say he knows where I am, or I can lie to him," Parker said, fingers tapping on the counter. "And I'm going to be lying to him about L.A. anyway. He doesn't approve of the girl I'm staying with there." It still amazed her that he didn't seem to know what Fandom was, sometimes. But maybe that was the place's own protections at work again. "There's a lot I have to tell you about that I can't share with him." Things he had a right to know; Angelo, and her mother's death, and Brigitte. But not her father's possible involvement or awareness. That would cross some line she couldn't quite quantify to herself.
"I wish you could trust him." Ben was studying her worriedly. "He's your father."
"It's not about trust." Any more than her not telling Ben about her further plans for the Centre was about trust. "It's just... simpler. He's happier not knowing." And maybe that's what her father always said to himself about all the things he never told her? Maybe it was one more way they understood each other without even having to think about it. One more weight on the side of the balance that said he was her father. "Someday. Maybe. When the time is right."
Ben looked uncertain, but let it go. "Mind if I walk in to town with you?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way." Parker finished her coffee and smiled at him. "You can do the bargaining with the locals, so I don't get robbed."
Somewhere in there, she'd find the words to tell him about her twin, and her mom's death, and everything important that had happened since last September, to make up for all the things she never would say.
A few hours later she woke up again, knowing where she was. She padded downstairs barefoot, in shorts and a cotton blouse after taking a shower, not bothering to dry her hair. No one here would expect perfection from her; and much as she liked looking her best, it was relaxing to not have to deal with it here. No one would be impressed. Just amused.
"Pancakes?" Ben offered as she walked into the kitchen. "Or maybe you want waffles? You're probably a waffle girl."
"That sounds good," Parker said, yawning and taking a seat at the breakfast bar, then pouring herself a cup of coffee. "It's quiet. Where are all the guests?"
"Most of 'em had things to do by noon on a Sunday, Miss Sleepyhead." Ben smiled at her, shaking his head. "Jet lag getting to you?"
"I think the whole summer just caught up to me. I slept fourteen hours." Parker tilted her head on her upturned hand and slowly sipped her drink. "How have you been? Lots of visitors this summer?"
"Enh, some here, some there," Ben said, pouring batter into the mold. "Fourth of July we had a good many. We'll be full up on Labor Day." He smiled at her. "And how has your summer been going?"
In bits and pieces, she told him about her time in Moscow and Rome. Not just incidents like the carjacking, or the mugging in Gorky Park; things like the sounds of the Via Turino, and the startling size of the outsize buildings in Moscow. The blue cars with lights on them for dignitaries, speeding through traffic past the Kremlin. The music at FAQ Cafe, and talking with Olga and Anna. Seeing Giusseppe, the light on the water of the Mediterranean, seeing porpoises from the cliff where Giusseppe's church was perched. Walking through Vatican City with Zero, video camera in hand, talking a mile a minute. Visiting with the Mother Superior of the school she'd attended in Rome, the food at the cafe after attending the Bolshoi.
Things that Sydney liked to hear about, but questioned, as he always did. Sydney got more of the truth because of that; he knew about Casimir, if not about the mole in Kamchatka. Knew she'd been scared in Rome, even if she didn't say so to Ben. He got less of her emotional state just because he asked for details. She suspected Ben did guess that she was keeping things back, but didn't push. He seemed to get as much out of the trivialities and the reactions which would have bored her father, as Sydney got out of the grudgingly shared facts she didn't want to revisit. Then again, her father had been there, seen that, and now they had a short-hand between them of things they didn't need to explain to each other about those cities, and the people in them, and how the Parkers fit into those worlds.
Sometimes it struck her that she spoke three different languages with Ben, Sydney, and her father, even when she stuck to English.
"So, what do you want to do today?" Ben asked finally, as they were clearing away the brunch dishes. "And you never said, but does your father know you're here?"
Maybe. If I ask you, will you tell me? Not that she wanted to know. That would ruin the visit, spoil the peace, if she had to deal with her mother's possible infidelity. "Walk into town, look at the shops, maybe. Or take a walk around the lake." She squinted out the window at the wind moving through the trees, and lightly said, "He thinks I'm in L.A. I paid an actress who looks like me to stay at the Chateau Montmarte under my name and shop for the next month and a half. He's in Africa visiting the Centre stockholders and board, and I couldn't go. So. It doesn't matter where I am, but it's simpler if he doesn't know about this place."
Ben was silent as he wiped down the breakfast bar, then carefully wrung out the dishrag in the sink. "You shouldn't have to lie to him. You don't need to protect me, Parker. I'm the adult here, and if he doesn't want you to visit, then I don't want to be getting you in trouble with him."
"I can lie to you and say he knows where I am, or I can lie to him," Parker said, fingers tapping on the counter. "And I'm going to be lying to him about L.A. anyway. He doesn't approve of the girl I'm staying with there." It still amazed her that he didn't seem to know what Fandom was, sometimes. But maybe that was the place's own protections at work again. "There's a lot I have to tell you about that I can't share with him." Things he had a right to know; Angelo, and her mother's death, and Brigitte. But not her father's possible involvement or awareness. That would cross some line she couldn't quite quantify to herself.
"I wish you could trust him." Ben was studying her worriedly. "He's your father."
"It's not about trust." Any more than her not telling Ben about her further plans for the Centre was about trust. "It's just... simpler. He's happier not knowing." And maybe that's what her father always said to himself about all the things he never told her? Maybe it was one more way they understood each other without even having to think about it. One more weight on the side of the balance that said he was her father. "Someday. Maybe. When the time is right."
Ben looked uncertain, but let it go. "Mind if I walk in to town with you?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way." Parker finished her coffee and smiled at him. "You can do the bargaining with the locals, so I don't get robbed."
Somewhere in there, she'd find the words to tell him about her twin, and her mom's death, and everything important that had happened since last September, to make up for all the things she never would say.