Disclaimer: I own nothing but enjoy exercising the muse from time to time.
A/N: I know I swore that I wouldn't do any stories about Manny and Stephanie after Expect the Unexpected. I didn't lie, the muse has been waylaying me for over a year wanting Manny back. This one-shot is some time after Expect the Unexpected has concluded. It may or may not serve as a prequel for Zero's Story.
Thanks in advance to Sunny.d, Tiina, Bluz, Redlamps, VulcanRider, Harmony for being there … long live the plot bunnies and their evil friends.
Save the Ta-Tas
By Alfonsina
"Manny, I hate that t-shirt." Stephanie wasn't pleased with my choice of wardrobe, no big surprise.
I didn't have anywhere important to be, no one to impress. It was just going to be dinner with her family, not a big deal. Besides I liked the message on my new black t-shirt. Bigorsmall,savethemall.Savetheta-tas.I grinned. "Nieves, my clothing choices have nothing to do with you."
At least this time Stephanie didn't shoot me the bird, it was just a glare, but if I didn't play it right, I'd lose access to her tatas. Though they weren't overly large, they were real, responsive, and perfect for her body. I'd rather have access to real and responsive than silicone soldiers that are always saluting anyone who walked by.
"But do you have to wear it to my mother's house? We're due there," she picked up my wrist and adjusted it until she could see the watch, "in twenty minutes. At this time of day, we'll need almost half an hour with traffic."
No, we wouldn't. At most it took twelve minutes, if I took a motorcycle and the backstreets. The truck was low on fuel and I needed to see how the current project, a vintage Indian, was coming along. Besides, even a quick ride warmed her up nicely for later.
I grabbed two leather jackets and ushered her out the door. Maybe I'd take a slightly longer route both to and from the Plum house to ensure a very nice evening for the two of us.
Dinner was on the table when we got there. As usual, Ellen made enough to feed a small army. The table practically groaned with the bowls of buttered egg noodles, Swiss steak, overcooked peas and dinner rolls. I passed on the extra helping of cholesterol and skipped the gravy. Her gravy transmogrified into a solid brick in the bottom of my stomach. Every time. If I wanted to stay up all night, it was because it was my choice, not because I had indigestion.
"So," Grandma Mazur asked as she pointed her empty fork my direction, "What are you saving the Ta-Tas for? A rainy day? After lent? If you're waiting for lent to be over, it's going to be a very long wait. It isn't like they're going to get better with time, at least mine haven't. Now they just take up space in the front of my shirt and the bra gives me a place to stash your mother's cell phone. Now, your grandfather had pictures of me when I was still young and my breasts defied gravity and almost all laws of physics. If I knew the power I could have wielded in my youth, I would have displayed them and used them as weapons on a regular basis. I would have-"
I knew I'd need to interrupt her before she extolled any further on her past in front of the group, it wasn't my idea of polite dinner conversation. "It's Steph's idea." My head down and I gazed at my noodles.
"What?" Stephanie turned in her seat and waved her own fork at me. "We've never talked about this so how can it be my idea?"
"You're the one who said I needed to have a corporate charity for the website." Ever since we decided motorcycle restoration would be more than a hobby, Stephanie had been after me to do everything aboveboard: incorporation, insurance, corporate logo, website, even social networking. I talked her into doing most of the paperwork and getting things set with an accountant and an attorney so it wasn't too painful, but I told her I'd decide which charity the company would support. I wouldn't budge on the cause I wanted to support.
"Oh yeah." I could see the wheels turning and knew when she remembered the conversation because she turned a very pretty pink. Anything that's important and I want her to handle it gets discussed in bed. I usually wait until she's willing to agree to about anything before I bring up anything serious. Shoot me. I like to get my own way.
"But why are you wearing that t-shirt tonight? Why here?" she asked.
"It's October." I looked at Ellen and asked, "What's for dessert tonight?"
"I found a nice Hungarian sponge cake recipe with a raspberry-cream roulade. The first time I made it by myself, I was dating Frank." She beamed at her husband. Seldom did anyone ever see Ellen Plum smile, but one of this magnitude was a sight to see.
Stephanie's father had the ladle poised over his meat and returned it to the gravyboat. "Have you ever had it before?" he asked. "It will change your life." He lowered his head just a little and smiled at his wife. I'd always wondered what it was Ellen had done to reel him in; evidently a sweet tooth ran in this family.
"Go back to the 'it's October' thing," Stephanie said. "What does October have to do with anything?"
"Breast cancer awareness month," Frank said. "For all of the shopping you do, pumpkin, haven't you noticed all of the Pink Ribbons everywhere?"
"If you haven't done it yet, you're probably old enough to start to have mammograms this year," Ellen said.
"Why do I feel like I'm on a bad re-run of The Facts of Life?" Stephanie crammed some noodles into her mouth.
"You know, I hate doing that every year," Edna said. "But I make sure to do it and I check myself at least once a month unless I'm dating a hot number from the senior center. It's best if they have tremors."
"Grandma." Stephanie looked like she was about to crawl under the table. If I hadn't thought it was so funny, I might have joined her.
"Well, that machine makes pancakes out of the girls. One year, the technician couldn't get a good image and they became flatter than crepes. There was no life in the old girls for weeks."
"Grandma!"
"I forgot to tell you, Manny, your package arrived today," Frank said.
"Thanks."
"What did you order? I don't remember placing any orders for you." Stephanie said. "And, more to the point, why did you have it sent here?"
"After dinner, all will be revealed," I said.
Stephanie pulled her chair back and was about to rise when her father grabbed her wrist. "You haven't been excused yet, Stephanie."
Mollified she scooted her chair back under the table. She brought her glass of water to her lips and glared first at her father then at me.
After dessert, Frank and I took a walk to his garage.
"Are you sure you two aren't going to have any children?" Frank asked. "I'm sure you'd be able to give me male grandchildren. Hell, adopt a male dog and don't neuter it for a while, huh?"
I shrugged. "My brother, Javier, and his four boys will be coming for a couple of weeks this summer. Good enough?"
"I'll take what I can get. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."
"Speaking of rides, your Kawasaki is ready tonight if you want to try her out. She still needs some work, but she's safe for a short ride." I picked up an older KLR 650 for a song when Frank mentioned driving cross country on a bike was on his bucket list. The seat needed to be replaced and it still wasn't perfectly tuned; it was safe enough, but still pretty ugly.
He opened the top drawer of his Craftsman tool chest and handed me an envelope. "I think this should cover it."
"Frank, I don't want your money." Frank had turned into a decent father-in-law and had given me invaluable insight into all of the Plum women. Fixing up a motorcycle was the least I could do for the man.
"If you won't let me pay for your labor, you can at least take my money for parts. Parts don't grow on trees."
Too true, but I had contacts at several salvage yards and I haunted the internet looking for the best possible bargains for restoration parts. I hadn't spent too much money on my project for Frank.
"I'll take what I need for parts and for the paint job later." We shook on it. Things had gotten a lot better between us the last several months and we were actually friendly. Frank needed less estrogen in his life, he swam in a pool of it daily and at every family event, and midlife hadn't been easy. He retired too early and he had needed a new outlook on life and a new hobby. I was helping him with both. My good turn for the day.
"Let's go in and open your package first. Edna will have taken a fillet knife to the box and may have damaged the contents."
"She's like Stephanie. No patience." Recently the most fun I've had has been when she was about to run out of patience. Some nights, she's just too easy.
"True." Frank handed me the box on a shelf next to the garage door. "After you."
I placed the box on top of a cocktail table in the living room. I withdrew a Swiss Army Knife from my front pocket, opened a blade, and poised my hand over the first taped seam. Edna's patience had reached its limit and she tried to pull the knife from my grasp; she would have succeeded except that Frank lifted her out of the way and stashed her behind the sofa.
"Old woman, sit and be good or you won't get anything," he said.
"Presents? Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Edna said.
"Because you would have opened the box when it was delivered and repacked it poorly before I got home this afternoon. Now behave."
I looked at Stephanie and said, "That's why it was delivered here and not at home, Nieves." She stuck her tongue out at me. "Promises, promises." And I had plenty of uses for that tongue when we got home.
Three deft cuts opened the box revealed a lot of packing material.
"If it's surrounded in so many peanuts is it that delicate?" Ellen asked. "You didn't buy us a Lladro for our anniversary did you?" She beamed at Stephanie who looked blank. "This year is thirty-three."
"Uh, no?" She looked at me for some help. I shook my head. I don't buy presents for anyone unless I know exactly what they want, and then I try to give gift certificates. I send out cards on January 1st of every year for all birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. I'm never late and it gives me something to do during the Christmas holidays. "When's your anniversary again? We never celebrated it before."
"Never mind." Ellen turned the same pink Stephanie did when she was embarrassed.
Grandma said, "October 28." Ellen shot her mother a look, silently daring her to say the year.
Frank took his wife's hand and kissed it. "We had a formal, fancy wedding planned for later in the year, but, well my mother was sick so we sped up the time table."
"Father Christopher married us in his office with just our parents to witness," Ellen said. "I guess I never really got over wanting a real wedding." She reached over and clasped Stephanie's hand, "Sorry for pushing you into what I thought I always wanted."
I put my finger beneath Stephanie's jaw and lifted it to close her mouth. "It isn't polite to gawk, Nieves."
"But-"
"Shh." I looked around and said, "Ok, who wants to see what's inside?"
"Oh, just hand Grandma the box, it'll be easier on everyone that way." Stephanie looked at me, frowned, and said, "Cariño, you don't have any weapons in there, do you?"
"Not in this package." There was package that she could open at home and have plenty of fun with the weapon I had there.
Edna extracted several plastic baggies and fanned them out. Several contained t-shirts, others had keychains and bandanas.
"So studly, what's with the shirts?" Edna asked.
"I want to support a charity that's doing important work," I said. I slid the blade beneath the tape on the first t-shirt and freed it from its packaging. I didn't mention that Zero's first wife died of breast cancer two years after they got married. I didn't tell them that Frank's grandmother, two of his aunts, and his mother had all had breast cancer. Fear she wouldn't live to see him marry Ellen is why the wedding had been moved up all those years ago. He hadn't known how to talk to his daughters about it and his fear for them. Frank put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
"Thanks, Manny." The words were hoarse and heartfelt.
"Don't thank me. You get first pick of the shirts. Wear it with pride, man. There's one for everyone and none of the patterns were the same." The shirt had a washed out Union Jack and the words: RocktheTa-Tas.SavetheTa-Tas.It would be something he'd no doubt be wearing under a leather jacket when he started going on long rides. With his wife? Who knew? Helen had been letting her hair down a little at a time. Maybe she wasn't quite as stodgy as she seemed at first glance.
I frankly always sucked at guessing sizes, so I ordered all extra-extra larges. The couple of times I bought things for Stephanie she had to take them back to the store to get something that actually fit. Plus, who knew if they'd shrink or by how much? And if Helen or Edna wanted to use them for night shirts, they'd be comfortable.
Frank looked over all of the shirts picked one and handed it back to me. "I think you should keep this one." I didn't look but was pretty sure I knew which one it was. "Why don't we save time with the bike until another night? It's getting late and dark." And based on the looks he'd recently been giving his wife, he might even have hishands full tonight.
Stephanie stretched out on the bed waiting for me to plug in a movie. Most Friday nights we watch something, but it was tricky to actually get her to watch a movie. She slept through anything with too many explosions and she cried through most chick flicks. We watched a lot of animated movies and a lot of old black and white film noir.
I lit one small votive candle and cut the rest of the lights in the house. When I joined her on the bed, I grabbed a remote and turned the stereo to the slow jazz channel.
"Hey, I thought you wanted to watch something tonight. I'm not tired," she said.
"Oh, I have full intentions of watching something," I said. I slipped my hand under her t-shirt and bunched it up until it was over her breasts. "Why don't you wear bras that clasp in the front? It would make my life easier."
"Because they don't support my tiny ta-tas very well." She struggled to get up and remove the offending shirt and unhook her bra.
Well, there is always that. "Can't let the girls think they aren't supported." I cupped her breasts and smiled. I could never get over how perfect her breasts were and I wanted to make sure they stayed that way.
I ran my lips over her collarbone and was about to kiss down her chest when she put her finger under my chin so I would look at her.
"The shirt my dad made sure you had, what did it say?"
"Savealife.Gropeyourwife.Savetheta-tas. And I fully intend to grope my wife at least once a month to make sure she remains healthy."
"Well, don't let me get in the way of your inspection," she said. "And promise to be thorough."
"With pleasure."
Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Don't forget, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Stage One is the Cure.
Tonight is my own cancer-versary - four years clear. One more to be considered cancer free!
Go to: www (dot) breastcancer (dot) org / symptoms / testing / self_exam / bse_steps (dot) jsp for more information. (remember this site doesn't like live links)
