This was another original story I decided to change into a Babe one. All familiar characters, scenes, or events, still belong to Janet. The mistakes are solely mine.
The only thing I have left to do here is pound the "For Sale" sign as deeply as I can get it into the rocky ground. The real estate guy Ranger hired to help Val and I through this, told me he'd handle that himself later today when I wouldn't be around to see it, but I needed the closure I'd hoped a moment like that would give me. This house had been my home for the first eighteen years of my life. Now ... it's about to be part of someone else's. Maybe by selling it, a happier life can be lived here than the one I remember.
"You don't have to do this, Babe."
"Yeah, I do. Val is in no shape to deal with this, and I don't want Grandma more upset than she already is. They have their hands full trying to comfort each other and the girls."
All Grandma Mazur's talk about getting a kick out of funerals and cracking open caskets, doesn't apply when she had to go to a funeral for her own daughter and then another one a day later for her son-in-law.
That thought appeared and disappeared quickly, but I was still in danger of breaking into uncontrollable sobs just for having it. I've been doing that on and off for the last two weeks. Ranger wasn't fooled by my attempted matter of fact-ness. I'm not strong or brave. Right now, I'm just a teary-eyed, sick-stomached orphan. Despite not having a touchy-feely relationship, or any other kind really, with my parents, I didn't want them to die.
But my thoughts alone couldn't save them, or the other passengers that died on the plane with them that day, when it crashed en route to Disney World. 'The Happiest Place on Earth' my ass. My mom finally convinces my dad to take a vacation and also spend some time with Val and the girls, and they never even made it to them.
'Stop thinking about it, Stephanie', I ordered myself. But as usual, I didn't listen to my self-preservation instincts. And like always, Ranger swooped in to save me in the nick of time.
"You don't have to do anything right now except grieve, Steph. I told you before, and I'm reminding you now, that I'm strong enough to carry you until you gain your footing again."
I pulled out an already damp tissue from my pocket, blew my nose, and then wiped my eyes on the cuff of my Rangeman jacket before speaking. I'm totally fucking up my Wonder Woman/I can handle anything image.
"I appreciate that offer more than I can say. I understand why Val, Grandma, the girls, and Albert, are totally wrecks, but my relationship with my parents is different. I get that I should feel sad and probably guilty, but I shouldn't be acting like a total headcase at every thought of them. Even now, I shoot from feeling nothing to feeling everything."
"You have nothing to feel guilty for, Stephanie. They were your parents ..."
He stopped talking as he watched my eyes fill up and my breathing become borderline hyperventilating. 'Here I go again. Brace yourself for round 258 of emotions that make no fucking sense', I thought to myself.
"They were my parents," I choked out, making my words sound as broken as I feel, "but they aren't anymore. They're ... gone. Both of them, just like that."
"Let's be honest, they were never the parents you needed and deserved."
"Shouldn't that make this easier then? Because I feel just as awful now as I did when Val called to tell me what happened."
"Could be you feel worse because now you're coming to terms with the fact that there will never be a resolution or a close relationship with them that a part of you was still hoping for."
I let him pull me against his body. If he wants to share his strength and zen-like vibes with me, I'm not about to push him or them away. I need all the help I can get today.
"That has a ring of truth to it," I admitted. "How pathetic is that? Despite what they said or didn't say, I was still holding out hope that we'd be able to fix things, even if it took awhile to figure out how."
"It's not pathetic. It's normal and extremely healthy to try to understand and fix what you feel is wrong in your life."
"I wanted my parents to be happy for me ..."
"That was impossible. You would have had to change who you are and also give me up to have them feeling even remotely pleased. Instead ... you stood up for yourself and decided to move in with me instead."
"And I haven't regretted a second of doing that."
"Except for now."
"No ... NO. I regret what I had with them. I'm grateful for what I have with you."
He kissed my hair and held onto me until my shaking became barely detectable. If it was anyone but Ranger here with me and I was pressed for an explanation, I would swear it's just the chill in the air that caused the trembling, not the creepy whisper in my ear of what might have been.
"Okay, I'm better now," I told him.
"Are you?"
"Nope, but I can't fall apart."
"You can if you need to. If you don't, it's just going to hit you at a later date, which will feel ten times worse."
"I vote for later. Do you think the realty place would mind if we walked through the house before we leave?"
"The house isn't officially on the market yet. It's still your family's home until it's sold. Before you got on the line the day the three of you made the decision to sell, I assured Valerie and Edna that I'd help them keep this place if they wanted it. The Markowitz side already being empty would have made it an easy transaction."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day Mrs. Markowitz would move and my parents wouldn't be right here."
"Your sister and grandmother could have each had a side if they chose to keep the property. It would have still been different, but familiar."
I reached for his hand as we walked slowly to the front door. I'm not at all surprised that he has a key to get inside even though I hadn't planned on going in.
"Grandma Mazur is fine living with Val's family until they both adjust to this, but she's looking forward to having her own place, and life separate from the family."
"I made sure the community she chose a unit in received a system upgrade."
"Security guy to the end, aren't you?"
"A protector is who I am."
"It is. And Grandma is as thankful as I am for that, though she'll never admit that she needs protection."
"I wonder who she passed that trait onto?" He teased, closing and locking the door behind us.
I scanned the completely bare house and my words had even more meaning behind them. "I might have been ... reluctant in the past to say how much I need you and the love and care you show me, but I can say it everyday now. Especially today. Thank you for coming here with me."
"I'll always be here for whatever you need. Thanking me for doing something I need to do, isn't necessary."
"It's necessary for me to thank you for all you've done - and do - for me. How does a place you know better than your own face, suddenly seem unrecognizable?"
"You're seeing it through different eyes now."
"I am, but I'm also seeing me at nine-years-old, eating cookies while doing homework on the kitchen table that was over there," I said, walking into the kitchen that's so empty, our voices are echoing off the walls, "while my mother nagged my dad to prune the tree that turned into a candle years later thanks to Lula's grilling attempt."
"So not all of your memories here are bad. That's reassuring to hear."
I pointed to the spot in front of the cabinet where the glasses used to be kept. "That's where I was standing when my mother grounded me for what Joe wrote about me on buildings across town."
He went still and I could feel a jolt of anger ricochet through him. "If you see Morelli's obituary in the paper next, please appear surprised."
"Are you making a joke at a time like this?" I asked.
"Yes and no. I'd prefer you only remember the good moments in your life."
"I can find one of those," I said, turning around and moving into the dining room. "Right here is where you had dinner with us and had Joyce going crazy because no matter how she tried to get your attention, or how she posed her plastic parts, you acted as if she was fly-covered crap that had been tracked into the house on someone's shoes and should either be immediately disinfected or ignored. When you stretched your arm out across my chair and leaned in close to whisper in my ear, I saw her face and thought she was having a stroke. You're the hottest guy anyone has ever seen, and you only had eyes for and interest in me."
"I still only see you. Fly-covered shit is an apt description. She should never have been allowed into this house after what she did to you - as children, adults, and job rivals - let alone be invited for dinner. Same goes for Morelli."
"I thought you wanted me to think about only the good stuff and people in my life?"
"I do. I'm sorry for mentioning the asshole," he said, pressing a kiss to my mouth. "He doesn't belong here."
"Don't apologize. I'm actually glad that someone can get mad on my behalf."
"A seething rage in response to what you've been through and how you've been treated would be more accurate."
I tried to smile at him. And I almost succeeded.
"Thank you ... for being you."
"Anytime, Babe."
"It's weird not having any noise in the kitchen or hearing a game blaring in the background as we're talking."
"This place does feel reminiscent of a ghost town. I can't remember a time I was here that the noise level didn't rival a war zone."
"It's sad that it's just ... over."
"What's sad exactly? Life having to be over or this part of yours?" He asked.
I couldn't answer him until I had the tears blinked back. Just when I think I've finally sorted out my messed-up emotions, they get turned around again and the floodgates reopen.
"They were my parents ..." I started to say, but I didn't know what the hell to add to that.
"I know," he said, wrapping his arms tight around my shoulders as they shook, keeping my head protected between his forearms and his chest.
What's going on inside my head might be complete mayhem, but he kept the outside of it under control.
"Why couldn't they like me? Why can't I be feeling like Grandma and Val ... upset but not questioning how I feel and if I was wrong in how I handled ... everything. Val is beating herself up for inviting them to go down and spend the last week of the Kloughn vacation with them, but just the fact that our parents were on a plane to see her and their grandchildren, proves she mattered to them. I'm still wondering if they even liked me, let alone if I mattered to them beyond what the law required."
"You can't feel the way they do, because you aren't like them. What was between you and your parents was not what Valerie or Edna experienced. They were happy with that and with what your parents gave them. You wanted more from your family ... to be a family in more than just name only. That's not wrong. You knew you deserved understanding and unconditional love from your parents, and you offered to give them the same love and respect back if they would only make an effort. They had the chance to do the right thing, and they chose to ignore your plea and you afterwards. If you hadn't dumped Morelli, you never would have questioned their behavior and they would never have been called on it. So your mother blamed you twice as hard. Once for not settling for a Burg bastard, and then again for you turning around and confronting her about her similarities with him. I'm less certain of your father's role, but whatever he felt towards you, he still went silently along with whatever she said and did. He never once stopped the pressure or stepped up to protect you from it."
"That makes sense. Because you, the guys, and your family, are so great to me, I started to see the differences between how my family and Joe treated me, and how you and the Manoso and Rangeman families love me. That was eye-opening."
His Grandma Rosa kisses me on both cheeks every time I see her, and his Mom always hugs me twice - when we arrive and before we leave her house - just because I make her son happy.
"I'm glad we've been able to show you a different kind of life than the one you had here. Do you want to look around some more or have you seen enough?"
"Now that we're here, I just want to check upstairs for one thing. I've been curious about something ever since the first dinner you invited me to in Newark. I didn't want to deal with my mom's 'Why are you asking? What are you up to now?'' sigh by asking her about it. By putting it off, I'm never going to hear that sound again, or ever get her reason behind always making it."
"You would have only been hurt more with whatever answer she chose to give you."
I went ahead of him up the stairs and eye-scoured all the doors and walls in each of the bedrooms, Val's old one, mine, and finally my parents' room. When I was done, I was filled with a separate set of hurt and grief ... this time for Val and I as little girls.
After quietly shadowing me during what had to have looked like a crazy search throughout the upstairs, Ranger spoke.
"You're looking for growth charts, aren't you?" He asked me.
"Yeah. Your parents still have ones for each of you in their room, plus in each of your bedrooms. If my parents had one of us as we grew, that's one thing I would've kept even if it meant I had to leave behind a hole in the wall when we go. I should've known better. There's nothing here. It's as impersonal as a recently scrubbed hotel room. I can't even say a new coat of paint probably covered it up, because my mom kept this room pristine so no touch-ups were needed. I don't remember ever seeing any in our rooms, so I guess none exist."
I really shouldn't feel sucker punched by this. We were never welcome in their space, it seems not even for the excitement of seeing how much we've grown.
The memory of me saying I wasn't coming back into this house without Ranger, after it was suggested that I should come alone if Ranger 'is too busy to bother with me', added to the pain of standing here in the house with him last week, numbly watching all their belongings being carried out of it. Everything was being put into storage until Grandma and Val could go through it and decide what they're keeping and what should be donated.
I'd already decided that I'm not keeping anything except for the dorky "Have A Happy Day" smiley face cookie jar Grandma kept stocked for me as a bribe to get me to visit more. I figure my Brown Bear could use some crazy company in Ranger's ultra grown-up kitchen. Not only do his homes come furnished, but life without my parents - before and after their deaths - has been hard enough to deal with without bumping into their ghosts everywhere I turn. I not only want out of this house, but I need to be free of this Burg, too. I'm going to scream if one more person looks at me with pity-filled eyes, before going in for the required 'sympathetic' yet really pleased-with-themselves hug as they whispered, 'I'm sorry for your loss, Stephanie. You must be feeling awful. I'm sure Helen and Frank knew you didn't mean to hurt them by staying away. They must know that you loved them.'
No one except Ranger and his mom, who I've been talking to a lot since the crash, knows even half of what I'm feeling. The Burg doesn't seem to understand that I don't believe my parents cared what I did or didn't do unless it 'embarrassed' them. And my love for them is complicated because they are ... were ... my parents, so by all rights I should love them, but they made it so hard to. They did what they could to tolerate me, my headstrong nature, and odd taste in jobs, but they weren't proud of any of it. Well, my dad seemed to enjoy when I exploded cars or buildings, but that could be just because it ticked my mom off whenever she heard I made something else go up in smoke.
Dinners spent here with my mother saying that I'm not getting any younger and shouldn't be wasting my time on a man who wouldn't marry me, though Ranger has said otherwise numerous times ... not that I would tell her that. I had to listen to her say I should spend my life boxing tampons because it's clear that I can't do anything else. And the last few times I'd come to dinner, I was told to go keep Mary Alice company, just so the two non-obeying 'misfits' would be out of her kitchen. Mary Alice and I had fun, but inside I knew no matter how hard I tried, no one was ever going to acknowledge or appreciate what I did to fit in.
In Ranger's kitchen, food prep and dinners are way more fun. Whenever he has an early day, he'll tell Ella that we'll handle dinner, and then he'll attempt to teach me how to cook something. Of course, I pretend to pay attention to him and all of his instructions, but in the end ... I still just throw everything into one bowl or pot and call the cooking lesson a total success. We usually end up cleaning up my mess the following morning. The playful 'trash' talk, and the gentle challenges he issues with the level of skill needed to complete whatever dish he chose that night, always turns into an evening full of flirty innuendo and not-so-casual caresses whenever Batman goes hands-on with his demonstrations. He'll then tug me, laughing, through the kitchen and into our bedroom where I immediately forget all about dinner.
"I really do hope you're happy now," I said out loud to my parents in their bedroom, the only place they probably acted like a married couple who genuinely liked one another.
I've started off every morning since the crash with those seven words, and I repeat them every single night when I close my eyes as Ranger's arms lock themselves around me. This room still smells like my mom's perfume and my dad's Old Spice. Like they were in life ... I see them in front of me even when I know they're somewhere else altogether. Before they were only absent mentally or emotionally, now it's also physically. Guess I will be leaving here with a hole in something after all. And unfortunately ... it's not the drywall.
"I'm ready to go," I informed Ranger. "I've seen and done everything here that I need to."
I can't help them anymore by hurting myself.
"They were the ones who missed out, Babe. Never forget that. They were lucky to have you for a daughter. Maybe they're able to see that now."