Seeing Red

I woke up early for once in my life. It was Christmas morning after all, and even though I no longer believed in Santa Claus I still held on to a glimmer of hope that someone would leave presents under the tree that I didn't have.

Sigh. It was going to be a long day.

I padded out to my bathroom to take care of business, sneaking a peak into my living room, where no tree was gracing its space. Nothing seemed out of order, so I continued on my journey.

I peed, took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and contemplated using the flat iron I bought myself for Christmas to transform my look for the day. Dinner at my parents' was at 1:00 so I had plenty of time to do so. I had just sectioned off my hair with large butterfly clips when I heard a noise in my kitchen, so I went out to check on Rex.

"Ranger? What are you doing here?" I said to the man standing in front of my kitchen counter holding three red Christmas stockings.

I noticed Rex's name on the smallest of the three. My name was on the middle one but I couldn't see whose name was on the larger stocking. Since Ranger was the one who brought them, it would make sense that his name would be on the third. I just hoped it didn't say Joe and this was his way of sending me another one of his messages. I reached for it to be sure.

"Babe. Is that any way to treat a man bearing gifts?"

"I don't see any gifts; I see three red stockings and I wanted to see whose name was on the third."

"Technically you're right, there's nothing in the stockings. And it's my name that's on this one," he told me, turning it around so that I could read Carlos.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked again, bewildered as ever.

"You walked right by me earlier or you would have caught me in the act. I hid a few things around your apartment. It doesn't feel like Christmas without seeing a smile on your face."

What the f*?

"And?"

"Why don't you finish what you were doing and I'll get breakfast ready? We can talk about what I'm doing here while we eat."

Ok? "I was straightening my hair. I'll need about twenty minutes."

"Take your time. Technically I'm working today. I'll make some phone calls while you finish up."

This was all too strange. I figured the apparition in front of me would be gone when I finally got out of the bathroom, so I turned back to get to work on my hair.

Twenty minutes later it was done, and my once unruly curls were now flattened to within an inch of their life and hung down past my shoulders. It looked good, just not like me. I opened the bathroom door and much to my surprise Ranger was still in my apartment. At this point, he'd made himself at home on my dining room table and was currently talking to someone on his cell. His eyes raised in admiration as he took me in. Obviously he liked my new look.

I gave him the universal 'give me a minute' pointer finger and retreated to my bedroom to throw on some clothes.

I had planned to wear the red dress I bought for the occasion but was wondering if that was appropriate for a conversation with Ranger? I quickly decided it had to be, so I put it on and paired it with the black FMPs Lula insisted went well with it. Then I headed out to see just what it was that he wanted.

He got up from the table as I walked over, gave me an appreciative look and then, quick as a bunny, pulled me to him and kissed me.

"Merry Christmas, Babe," he whispered when we broke apart breathless.

Now that was a nice holiday surprise, but something told me it wasn't everything.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ranger. So now can you tell me what's going on?"

"Patience. I made coffee," he said handing me a cup just the way I liked it, light with two sugars. Obviously he brought milk because I was currently milk-less. And pretty much everything else-less too.

"Now what would you like for breakfast? I have milk, eggs, cheese, whole grain bread…"

I could pull the tiger's tail and tell him I wanted French toast since it looked like he brought all the ingredients for it and I had maple syrup, but I decided to wait.

"What would you like to have?"

His eyes dilated black as he looked at me. I got it. I was on the menu.

"Egg-white omelets?" he asked.

"French toast?" I answered.

"Fair. I'll make both."

"I only have one pan and I don't think you can flip an omelet in it."

"I brought my own," he replied pointing to my stove, which currently held my lone pan and a nice, clean, new-looking omelet pan.

"Can I help?" I asked, actually hoping he'd say no. I have no idea how to make an omelet and my idea of French toast is to put the frozen kind from Trader Joe's in my microwave.

"Can you get me a couple of bowls?"

Ha. This was the apartment of Stephanie Plum. Bowls, plural, weren't anywhere to be found. I had my microwave popcorn bowl and that was it. I got it out of the closet and handed it over.

"This is all I have."

"Babe."

I think that Babe meant, sorry state but I could be mistaken. Maybe it meant pathetic. Anyway he took the bowl from me, cracked open a few eggs, added milk and some of the maple syrup I took from my closet when I brought over the bowl. Into it went a few slices of bread that he dunked and let soak while he added butter to the pan. Yes, real butter. All of a sudden I had a feeling that Batman knew how to cook. I didn't pay attention to what else he did because I was too intent on staring at him. This was a Ranger I had never met before.

All of a sudden he was repurposing the bowl and had wiped just a dab of butter onto the omelet pan. Eggs cracked, yellows disappeared, stuff got whipped together and into the pan. Pretty good. Batman had two pans going simultaneously.

"Plates, Babe?" he asked, "or do we have to share that too?"

"No. I have more than one plate," I smiled, pulling both of the plates I owned out of the cupboard and bringing them over to Ranger. I'd pretty much broken all the China I had when I threw them at Dickie after catching him and Joyce on my dining room table. These two chipped but didn't break.

Ranger plated both breakfasts and carried them into my dining room. I grabbed a paper towel and tore it in half. This would have to do for napkins. Then I found two knives and two forks that were clean and joined him at the table.

I put a large pat of butter and maple syrup on top of my French toast, let the butter melt and then I dug in.

"Oh my God, Ranger, this is soooo good!" I told him excitedly, my mouth too full to even talk properly.

"Glad you like it. My sister Celia would eat nothing else for breakfast, so I guess I learned how to perfect it."

"You cooked breakfast for your sister?"

"We all took turns cooking. Both of our parents worked full-time and we had to chip in."

He was sharing personal information.

"Until you were fourteen and got shipped down to Miami to live with your grandparents."

"Yes. But I cooked there too. I know how to make all the Cuban dishes my grandparents loved."

"I could probably make lasagna, but I've never tried. Wasn't married long enough to host a holiday feast."

"Well that's one of the reasons I'm here."

"What, you want me to host a holiday feast? I think you've got the wrong person."

"No Babe, I don't want you to host anything. Finish your breakfast and I'll let you snoop around."

Another, what the f*?

I decided to keep my mouth shut and continue eating. Obviously I'd find out what was expected of me shortly.

"So," Ranger said as he picked up the now-empty plates and brought them back into my kitchen, "Now we can talk, but before we talk, like I said earlier, I've hidden a few things around your apartment. As you find each one, we can talk about it."

That seemed fair and I was always up for a good treasure hunt.

"The one that will require the most explaining is hidden somewhere around your couch. I suggest you seek that one out first."

Ok, I said to myself and got up to start searching.

There was an over-sized silver envelope partially peeking out from under my TV. I pointed to it and looked at Ranger. He shook his head and I pulled the envelope out. It had my name of the front, but it was not in Ranger's unmistakable handwriting.

"Open it, Babe."

I did. Inside was an invitation…and not just any invitation. It was an invitation to a New Year's Eve party hosted by Ricardo and Gloria Mañoso held in a room at the Hilton Hotel in New York City.

"What is this, Ranger?"

"Every year, either my parents or one of my aunts and uncles host a New Year's Eve party for family and friends. This year it was my parents' turn."

"At the Hilton?"

"It's not a ritzy as it sounds. It's one of the smaller ballrooms. There's only 150 people in attendance."

"This isn't your handwriting," I said looking at the envelope again, trying to make sense of the whole thing.

"No Babe, it's not. My mother addressed the invitations."

"Your mother knows who I am?"

"She does. Now why don't you look for a couple of other packages? There is one large one and one small one somewhere in your living room.

I found the large one first. It was wrapped in silver paper and conveniently peeking out of my hall closet.

"For me?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes. For you."

I gently removed the paper and found a Bergdorf Goodman's box under it. I opened the box and saw what appeared to be a dress folded between sheets of tissue paper.

"I don't know how far down you read on the invitation, but these New Year's Eve parties are formal affairs. My mother calls them, creative black tie events. I didn't want you footing the bill for a gown so I picked this out. Ella gave me your size. I hope it fits."

I pulled it out and looked at it. It was a dark blue, strapless, asymmetrical gown, above the knee in the front and floor-length in the back. It fell in tiers of lace from the fitted bodice. It was really elegant and beautiful.

"I can't accept this, Ranger," I said imaging the cost of something so sophisticated.

"I guess I haven't asked you properly, Stephanie. Would you like to be my date for New Year's?"

"Is this invitation coming from you or your mother?"

"My mother wrote out the invitations, but I'm the one asking you to join me."

"And people really dress up like this?"

"I'm going to be wearing a tux."

I'd seen Ranger in a tux before. He wore one to his friend's wedding. He looked totally edible in it. I could do this if I could look at him all night.

"And you want an answer, right?"

"Well that's usually the protocol when someone asks you out on a date. You either say yes, or you blow them off. I'm hoping for a yes."

"And this other package, I'm supposed to find? Is it also something to wear to this, um, party?"

"Maybe. It's something you can wear right now too."

"So let me ask you before I start searching again, why?"

"I usually avoid these things. I try to be on missions over the holidays or feign working. I can't get out of this one though. It's my aunt Grace and uncle Emilio's 50th wedding anniversary, as well as New Year's Eve. My mother was planning on asking you herself, if I didn't, which is why she wrote out the invitation. I guess I ignored her hints for too long. Please come with me as my date. I've never shown up to any of these events with a woman, you'd be the first, and the last."

"The last? Ranger, I don't understand, is something going to happen to me?"

"You'll probably be gushed over. That's about it. And last because I've told you before that I'm completely enamored with you. I am. And my family knows it. Probably to my detriment."

I read between the lines and it seemed like he was telling me that he loved me and that there would never be another. Hmmm.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"You haven't answered me. Will you be my date?"

"And you haven't answered me."

"Fair enough. Yes. My mission days are over. I'll still carry two guns and a knife but the possibility of me not coming back to you is minimal. I'd like to make you my woman."

"Answer me one other thing. The Christmas stockings; did you…?"

"Yes. I thought it was a nice gesture to show you that I want to be with you and Rex."

"Carlos?"

"That's my name, Babe. It didn't seem right to put Ranger on something so telling as a Christmas stocking."

I guessed not. And this was a strange confession, but I believed him.

"Yes," I said. "I'd love to be your date but I want to ask something myself. Will you come with me to the Plum's for Christmas dinner today?"

He closed his eyes for a second. Probably thinking about my grandmother groping him and my mother asking pointed questions.

"I half expected that. Yes, I'd love to join your family for Christmas. Will you wear this?" he added, pulling a small box from in between two cushions of my couch.

I took the box from him and opened it. Inside were a pair of diamond earrings. Not too large but not just little chips either; real diamond earrings.

"Ranger?"

"Merry Christmas, Babe," he said, pulling me to him and giving me another bone-melting kiss. "Let me put them on you."

"I have a present for you too," I said thinking about the flashlight I bought him that shone in the Batman symbol. "But maybe it's a little inappropriate after all of this."

"Nothing is inappropriate," he told me, his lips on my neck as he put an earring in my ear.

And somehow I knew he wasn't talking about gifts.