All familiar characters are Janet's. The mistakes are mine.
"Everyone looks horrified when someone says they want to die, but no one thinks twice if you say you don't want to live."
I was going to tell the woman that just about everyone feels that way at some point, or at least I have, but something stopped me. For the first time in a long time, I didn't roll my eyes at a person talking too loud on their phone in an already too loud, too busy mall while I was waiting in line to return a dress for Grandma.
Instead, I kept one eye on the line in front of me in case it moved more than an inch and I turned the other eye, plus tuned both ears, to the woman who looked around my age if not a little younger.
"Yeah, yeah, I know ... let it go, just suck it up and move on, stop letting my emotions control me, I got it. Thanks for the ... pep talk," she told the other person before disconnecting. After she thought she was talking to just air, she added "And thank you for NOT listening again."
She just stood there for a beat, as if surprised to find herself standing inside a Macy's, possibly questioning how she got here. My neck tingles are reserved solely for a Ranger-arrival, but my gut is a free-for-all for friends and strangers alike. I'd been shifting my feet in impatience for twelve minutes before the woman stopped to wrap up her call. Leaving my spot right now will mean I'll be sacrificing another good chunk of my life that I'll never get back, but I felt myself stepping out of the line and I headed towards her. I don't want this to turn into a 2AM regret because I didn't listen to what my instincts were telling me.
"Are you okay?" I asked her.
She tensed and her hazel-ly eyes closed for a second as she tried to redistribute her emotions. "Yeah. Never better. Thanks for asking. Have a nice day."
Part of me reeeeeally wanted to take the easy road and give up with a shrug and an 'I tried', but I thought of all the times Ranger refused to give up on me. Unfortunately for this woman, it looks like she's going to be penalized for Batman's obsession with making sure I'm happy and whole.
"Call me suspicious, but I'm pretty sure you're lying about being alright," I told her.
"What's it to you if I am lying or if I'm not?"
"I've been told that I can't keep my nose out of people's business, so I happened to hear what you said to your ..."
"Sister," she replied, looking surprised again because she heard herself answer.
"Well, your sister may not want to listen, but I do. As I said, I'm nosy and I'm also really curious what you see is the difference between wanting to die versus not wanting to live. I can buy you a cup of coffee in exchange for the explanation if you don't want to talk for nothing."
"I don't even know you."
Her sister knows her and she didn't sound like she gave a shit, but I kept that to myself.
"Sometimes that's easier," are the words I used instead. "Isn't that why bartenders are popular? You don't know them, they supply drinks, and they're usually willing to listen."
She shrugged. "I don't have any specific place to be. I'm just here to kill time. FYI, I have pepper spray and a mean right hook."
A woman after my own heart. "That's good to know. My turn. My boyfriend is an Army Ranger and owns a security-empire. Plus, I have a minimum of three buildings full of guys almost as equally trained watching out for me. I'm easy to find if I go missing ... and thoroughly covered when it comes to revenge and retribution. Neither of us are in any danger here."
I saw her mouth twitch. "What ... you don't have God in your contacts list with a ready arsenal of lightning bolts to send down if someone pisses you off?"
"Nope, but my guy does. Come on, I hear the caffeine calling us."
I got us each a coffee and a confetti sugar cookie at Starbucks. Colored sugar may not heal what ails you, but it does brighten up a table ... and hopefully a mood. I gestured towards a table furthest from the counter.
"My name's Stephanie, by the way. I'd tell you my last one as collateral for this conversation, but if you live anywhere near Trenton you could recognize it and that knowledge could work against me."
"Try me."
"I'm Stephanie Plum."
As expected, her eyes widened as multiple attention-grabbing headlines likely flew through her mind.
"The 'Stephanie Plum'?"
"Afraid so. Thank God I don't recognize you, which means there's a ninety-percent chance I didn't arrest you."
She shoved one section of streaked brown hair behind her ear. "You didn't. I've been called a Goody-Two-Shoes my entire life, so committing a crime isn't exactly on my bucket list. Hey, so that smokin' hot bounty hunter with the Porsche is the boyfriend you mentioned? I remember hearing two old biddies placing dinner bets on whether you'd dump him or shock everyone and actually marry him."
Fucking Burg. At least I'm nosy for the greater good or a good cause, not just to be mean.
"Next time you hear something similar, put fifty down on the staying together/marriage option. Just between you and me, and obviously Ranger, a last name-change for me seems to be pending. Now stop stalling. Name first ... and then give me a bucket list-entry."
"June Lizzette, and at the top of my bucket list is to stop feeling like crap every minute of every single day."
Now we're getting somewhere. "So I'd guess what you were trying to say to your sister is … you don't want to get hit by a bus right now, but being alive isn't exactly fun or even pleasant the majority of the time."
"That's about it."
"How come? Is it chemical, relationship-ical, or situational?"
"One and three, which makes the second one all but impossible."
"I hear you. Personally, I've found getting your head right leads to your heart feeling right. If you don't fix you first, you're willing to stay with people who treat you like shit and expect praise for it, or you'll stay stuck in situations that make you feel miserable in a similar way. Once that's taken care of, then you can start contemplating finding someone who loves your specific kind of crazy."
"Now you sound like her."
"Who?" I asked. "Your sister."
"Yeah, Kasey. She flip-flops between calling me crazy, and the next day she turns around and assures me that it's actually not me, it's everyone else that's nuts."
"She sounds ... interesting. But I'm not her, and I didn't say anything about thinking you're crazy. Believe me, I can't really throw stones in that department. I was actually saying that despite whatever you think is so wrong with you, someone ... whether it be a friend, boyfriend, or a random stranger you meet in a mall who comes in peace, will say it's what they like best about you. For me, it's been said I have a big mouth, I'm too independent, my goals are stupid, and I'm not normal. I decided to stop apologizing for who I am, and for who I won't be, and take pride in how those 'undesirable quirks' led me to the life I have now that I absolutely love."
"That's great for you, but I don't mind my job. My family - for the most part - is okay, so I can't blame the typical stuff for how I feel. My problem is me ... and there's no way to get away from myself. And not that it matters, but I know there's no Porsche-driving, empire-owning, Army Adonis, in my cards whether or not I'm happy or happy with myself."
"Tell you what, you get your chemicals right first, since it sounds like those are what currently needs fine-tuning, and I'll introduce you to an Adonis of your own. I know more than a few of them, but I'm not letting any of them get hurt or their heart broken, so you have to get help and figure out exactly what you want before you meet any of them if a forever-man is your plan."
"Meaning you're afraid I'll blow my brains out after someone already cares about me. I'm not worried about that."
"Because you won't do it?" I asked, just to see if she'd tell me the truth. "Or because you don't believe anyone would care enough about you to be devastated if you died?"
She hesitated too long to make me feel comfortable leaving her today. "Both?" She said, after a full thirty seconds.
That sounded like a question, not an actual answer ... which left me no choice. I dug my cell out of my bag and used a lifeline.
Ranger answered on the first ring. "Yo, Babe."
The goofy smile his voice or presence instantly causes had my face involuntarily moving. "Yo back. Can I ask for a favor?"
"You're not rainchecking me, are you?" He asked back. "I have a plane on standby for seven."
I temporarily forgot about June sitting across from me as my mouth fell open. "Really?"
"I was kidding, but I can make it happen with only one word from you," he bragged.
"I'll give you three words, not just one. Make ... it ... six."
"Consider it done. Now about the favor ...?"
"Is your life coach free right now?" I asked him.
"You mean the psychiatrist who moonlights as a psychologist that I have on hand for emergencies and employee evaluations?"
"Yep. I don't know how big of an emergency this is, but I met someone who was more interesting than the return-line I was standing in. She could use someone more skilled than me to talk to."
"No one is better at reading or helping people than you, but I'll call Flanders. You both can meet us on one."
"Got it. And thank you. I try not to use your connections unless I really have to, but on days like this ... I'm so glad you have so many of them."
"Love you, Babe."
"Love you more. I'll see you in ten minutes. Make sure Hal isn't in the lobby."
"So she's cute, short, and brunette?"
"Yep. Definitely his type ... a self-proclaimed goody-goody, with a snarky sense of humor yet shows an overall sweet disposition. He'll be a goner."
"You do realize I'm sitting right here, don't you?" June said, raising her voice slightly and crossing her arms self-consciously over her chest.
"Of course I do," I told her. "That's why I'm hiding Hal just to reassure you that I have your best interests at heart."
"Did you just overplay your hand?" Ranger said in my ear.
"Not really. I just have a few ruffled feathers to smooth back down."
I bit my lip to stop the smile that was the result of June's exasperated sigh.
"I'll see you when you get here." And with that promise, he ended the call.
"What was all that about?" June asked. "I don't need a 'life coach' or a boyfriend."
"You're half-right ... you don't need a guy, though Hal's one of the best out there, but you do need the life coach. He'll get your caboose on the right track and keep you there. If it makes you feel any better, I've talked to him myself a few times after a particularly scary job or when Ranger's in danger or out of the country in even more danger. We all need someone who'll listen to us, and I'm about to walk you into a building full of people who'll not only listen ... but who also care."