This story is one result (so far) of a book of writing challenges I was given, where a different premise and ten new words to use are provided for each story. Everyone and anything familiar belongs to Janet.
"What are you doing for lunch?" Ranger asked me, letting himself into my apartment while I'd been staring with a 'this is total bullshit' expression at the numerology chart Lula had given me this morning with the leftovers she unbelievably couldn't finish last night.
Of course, her restraint may have been due to her also getting nachos, a bucket of chicken, and an ice cream cake, to go along with the deep fried pizza, so her leftover dinner turned into my impending lunch. Lucky me, it fit into my favorite food groups too ... fried and free. Our friendship may not be meaningful at its core, but every once in awhile it offers up a perk.
"For lunch I'm doing exactly what I'm doing now, standing over my counter just like this, only switch out this paper in my hands for some fried pizza. Did you know that my life path number is 7?"
"No, but that could be the number of hours you have left to live if you actually consume that garbage."
"It may not be a gourmet meal, but it does give my digestive track something to do for a few hours as it tries to figure out what part is artificial and what's actually food that it has a chance to break down."
"Aren't you hilarious?" He deadpanned. "You are not eating that kind of shit today."
"Hey, it's recycled garbagey-shit. I'm doing the landfill a favor - and the environment a service - by eating it. I'm preventing the dump from being polluted further."
"I'm sure if I look for the exact definition of an environmentalist on an online dictionary site, I'd see your picture beside it, but we can do better than potential dump-fertilizer for your lunch."
"We?" I asked, seeing my day improve by the second.
"Yes. I have something to discuss with you and my lunch hour is all I have free today. We can eat and talk."
"Am I going to be able to eat after hearing what you have to say?"
If he tells me he'll be in the wind again, my appetite is going to go with him. It's a little scary how much my mental and physical state depend on how often I get to see him, which has become an everyday occurrence now ... either for lunch or a dinner/morning after-breakfast combo. Our nights have been spent together more and more often the last few weeks. If he leaves or wants to call a halt to things now that our relationship has been steadily gaining momentum, I'm not going to be happy ... and I'm definitely not going to want lunch.
"Yes," he answered again. "You may even try talking me into bringing you home a pint of celebratory ice cream from the 7-Eleven after my patrol ends tonight."
"Is that a possibility?"
"No. But you can have me instead if you're still awake."
"When you put it like that," I said, winding my arms around him and kissing his jaw, "I'll head over to Rangeman tonight and have two cups of Ella's coffee for dessert, just for added insurance that I'll be up."
He hugged me back before sitting me up on the counter and stepping between my legs. I hooked my ankles behind his knees, effectively trapping him so he couldn't get away from me.
He leaned forward and put his hands on the countertop behind me. "Alright, your dessert is taken care of ... what would you like to eat now?"
"So you're serious? We really have to talk?" I said against his mouth.
"Unfortunately ... yes. There isn't enough time right now for me to do what I'm picturing."
I sighed in regret. "Okay. You don't like most take-out food, which is the fastest meal after a peanut butter and olive sandwich, so how about Chinese food? You complain less about the choices they offer since they almost all have some type of vegetable in them. You know the menus are in the drawer by the microwave."
He kissed me in a way that had Rex blushing, I'm guessing because we can't do more, and then he stepped back and snagged the take-out menu for Foo Origin on Market Street. After only a cursory scan, he placed an order without needing to ask what I'd want there. He remembers everything ... from how I like my morning coffee, to the exact almost-boiling temperature I prefer the water in the shower to be. After living my life surrounded by people who barely notice me, being around Ranger has been revolutionary.
When he ended the call, I hopped off my temporary countertop seat and grabbed us each a bottle of water out of the fridge. He tugged me to the couch and settled into the corner so I could curl up against him. Though it's technically Spring, my snow-dusted brick building says otherwise. And he and I both know when it's cold out, I tend to cuddle up to him more than usual just to suck up all the heat his big body generates.
"So what do you need to talk to me about?" I asked, when his arm came around me to pull me even closer.
"How do you feel about traveling?"
"I don't know how I feel ... since I don't really do it. A drive to Point Pleasant, or a quick trip to Vegas or Atlantic City to catch a skip, is the extent of the traveling I've done."
"And if I reword my question and ask how would you like to spend a week or two with me, someplace warmer, sleeping in a hotel near the ocean, while earning a legitimate paycheck from Rangeman?"
"Now you're talking ... what's going on? And where are you talking about going?"
"The nature of the trip is to provide what services my company and I can to the areas of Puerto Rico that are still without power, help, or hope. When the island is back on its feet and tourism picks up again, opening a new Rangeman branch in San Juan will turn a considerable profit for me. And if this trip goes well, a similar relief one to Haiti will quickly follow. Even more selfishly, I was seeing this as a way for us to sneak in some real time together while we provide a different kind of protective service if no one else will."
As I started creating visuals for what he's said, he continued.
"I need to know what you think now, because if you're going to pass, since it won't be a typical round of R&R, I'll need to start rearranging schedules and men to fill our seats so I can stay behind. If you'd like to get out of Trenton, I'll get the company jet stocked with Tastykakes and we'll leave tomorrow afternoon. Ella has offered to watch the rat if that will help tip the answer in my favor."
"Just when I think I can't give you anymore mental gold star stickers like Lisa's teacher gives her for being an incredible person, you go ahead and do something else that makes you even more amazing in my mind," I said looking up at him.
My chest felt tight with all the emotions I would need a lot of time to list.
"Does that mean we're going?"
A knock signaling the arrival of our food gave me an extra minute to think, as Ranger got up to get the door, pay and seriously tip the delivery guy, and get me a fork out of the drawer because he knows my boobs become a catch-all for my food whenever I try to use chopsticks. He handed me the utensil before sitting back down beside me.
Truth is, I don't need extra time. I'm pretty sure I'd follow this man to the ends of the earth, never mind to a beautiful place that is desperate for help that never seemed to come.
I waited to answer until he had opened all the containers and sat back with his, which was filled with broccoli trying to hide its disgustingness by swimming in something spicy enough to distract your taste buds from the fact that it's a green vegetable that should be avoided. I silently thanked my pork fried rice, my two go-to food groups resurfacing - fried and free - for not being what he's eating.
"What should I pack?" I asked, to get the conversation restarted.
"Whatever you're comfortable in. Are you sure? Your mother is going to give you hell for leaving town with me."
"Do you know what the best part about this trip is ... aside from being with you and doing something good in the process?"
"What?"
I gave him an evil grin in-between forkfuls of rice. "I won't be here, so I won't have to listen to my mother's opinion on anything we do, not that I plan on putting up with it when we're back. I'll just call Grandma from the plane and let her have the fun of telling my mother where I am."
I got a hundred-watt grin before he dropped a kiss on the top of my head. We finished our food as I asked for specifics on who else will be going, what supplies we're bringing, and if we actually have to come back to Jersey. My curiosity and questions only took a break when I reached for the complimentary fortune cookies that aren't as good as chocolate chip ones, but are still cookies nonetheless. I shook my head and felt my face go through a couple different expressions as I read the words my snapped-open cookie revealed.
"I'm not sure I trust that smile, Babe. What is that cookie telling you?"
"That 'A new voyage will fill your life with untold memories'," I shared, tipping my head back against him as both of his arms came back around me. "It's the first fortune I've opened that feels like it could come true."
"Not could, Steph, will come true ... starting tomorrow."
I shot a smile his way. "Let the memories begin."
A/N: Stephanie's fortune cookie fortune I saw online.