Not my characters (except for the ones you don't recognize, they're mine), they belong to Janet Evanovich, but as long as Ranger can come out and play I can live with that.
For anyone patiently waiting on Chapter 17 of The Right To Remain Silent, this obviously isn't it. I know it's been a long time but, don't worry, I'm working on it but, it isn't right yet. Meanwhile, reading Shandiss' recent post, Breath of Heaven, planted the seed of an idea in my little pea brain and in the interest of getting the creative juices going I went with it. Hope you enjoy the result. Thanks for reading.
Legacy
by
SueB
"You comin' in anytime soon, Babe? Or you gonna hang in the hall a while longer?"
The door was only partly closed. She'd been lurking outside it for a good five minutes. I knew she was there. I always knew when she was there.
"You about finished working?" Steph asked as she peeked into the office. "I mean, if you're not, I don't want to disturb you."
Right. That never stopped her before. Something was up. Steph had many sterling qualities, but patience wasn't one of them. I raised an eyebrow. She blushed. Busted.
"It's just, well, you know," she stammered. "I mean you came straight in here after we got back and, come on, Ranger, I know you like to be hands on at RangeMan, but we were only gone three days and you checked in at least every other hour."
An exaggeration I let slide. She was picking up steam.
"And, let's face it," she continued, "Javier runs this place better than you and Tank ever did."
Ouch! She was digging in. Sure hadn't taken her long to regroup.
My wife parked a hand on one shapely hip. Twenty-six years of marriage and she still looked the same to me, just as beautiful as she had been the first day I met her in that downtown cafe. She wore her hair a little shorter now, but it was as curly as ever and still the same rich color. Did she do something to keep it that way? Didn't know. Didn't care. I did know her eyes remained a sparkling blue. At the moment they were fixed on me and they were worried. Something must really be up.
No question I was done working. The report I'd been reading no longer important. I tossed my glasses on the desk as I pushed my chair away and swiveled it to face Steph. Automatically, I stretched out my right leg and absently massaged my thigh. Three days of tromping around D.C. had taken its toll.
Steph didn't miss what I was doing. Her brow creased and I stilled my hand. Shit. Now she was worried about me as well as whatever issue had brought her down here. It was written all over her face. I knew it irked her that she had never mastered keeping her feelings hidden. Secretly, I was glad she couldn't.
"Hey, Babe," I said softly, motioning for her to come to me and patting my other leg in invitation.
She hesitated just a second, enough time for me to tell her with my eyes and a slow smile that she was my heart and soul.
My smile got bigger when she blushed again.
"Stop that!" she admonished, climbing carefully into my lap and offering her mouth for a welcoming kiss.
"Stop what, Babe?" I whispered against her lips. "Stop loving you? Never gonna happen." I tried for a more serious kiss, but she pulled away. Further intimacy was obviously on hold, at least until she decided to tell me what was going on.
Procrastination being her middle name, she wasn't ready yet. She fussed at my collar, loosening my tie and undoing the top buttons on my shirt.
"You didn't even change," she chided. "You look uncomfortable."
With that decree, she reached around to release the cord securing my hair. Her movement brought the soft vulnerable spot just below her ear into direct contact with my nose. I tightened my hold on her and inhaled. Sweet, so sweet. She relaxed against me and slid her hands up into my hair, her fingertips separating the heavy strands. Heaven. When my temples turned gray, I made an appointment with the barber. My bad ass days were long over. Steph's eyes filled with tears when I told her where I was going. "But you're my Bad Ass," she'd cried. I sent the barber a check for a hundred bucks to make up for my no show. If my men thought I looked foolish, none of them were stupid enough to let me know. Times like right now I didn't give a rat's ass what they thought.
Except, although I hadn't been uncomfortable before, with the warm willing woman I loved squirming in my lap, I was getting damned uncomfortable now. I knew how to fix that.
"Thought you were going to take a nap, Babe," I said.
"I am...I did...I was...I needed..."
"some company?" I supplied eagerly, surprised that she'd be shy after all these years.
She went still, backed off so she could look at me. Crap. I had it wrong. There was more than worry in her eyes now; there was pure misery.
"Babe," I coaxed, "tell me. What is it? What's wrong?"
"CJ," she blurted out. "CJ needs to talk to you."
CJ. Our son. Our adult son. Our only child. Carlos, Jr. CJ for short. The one we'd watched with pride in Washington yesterday afternoon as he received his Masters of Science from Georgetown's prestigious Edmond A. Walsh School of Foreign Service.
"The future ambassador? CJ needs to talk to me?" Immediately, I was wary. Like I did his mother, I loved CJ more than life itself, but CJ seldom, if ever, needed to talk to me. Needed to butt heads maybe. Push my buttons. But talk? Without voices raised? An occasion so rare as to be nonexistent. Steph always said it was because we were so much alike. I didn't see it. Trusted it wasn't true. For his sake. There were too many reasons I didn't want him to be like me.
Still my hackles went up. "Then he can come and see me," I said stubbornly, "not send an emissary. You can't always run interference for him, Stephanie."
That pissed her off. I knew it would. Her eyes narrowed. She went with her mother hen persona. "When have I run interference for him?" she asked.
"Let's see. There was the time he beat the crap out of that kid at school."
"He was only ten," Steph countered, "and 'that kid' was Joyce Barnhardt's thirteen year old son. CJ took exception to his calling me a whore. He didn't even know what a whore was. He just knew it wasn't good."
"You never told me that part."
"Of course not. Think I wanted you taking out a teenager?"
"How about now? He's old enough now," I growled. "There's still time."
She punched my arm. "Don't be ridiculous."
"What about the Porsche?" I went on. "You thwarted me on that one."
"Yeah, well," she mumbled. "In hindsight, I should have left that one alone."
"I hadn't given him permission to drive it so technically, the Porsche was stolen. I was within my rights to have him arrested."
"Okay, already! You were right! It would have been better if I'd let you call the Trenton PD to go after him rather than sending Cal and Junior. They scared the bejeezus out of him."
I chuckled. "Never had a problem after that though, did we? I had to do something, that was my baby."
"The car! You were worried about the damn car!"
Her back was up.
"No, Babe," I said gently, "the boy. I didn't want anything to happen to the boy. Not then. Not ever."
Her eyes closed. Her lip quivered. She bowed her chin and rested her forehead against my chest. I held her tight and finally, she said, "I don't know him lately. He used to share his hopes, his dreams. Here he is, ready to start his career and it's like he's pulled a curtain closed. Hell, it's more than a curtain; it's a damn steel shutter."
I rubbed her back in soothing easy circles. "He's a grown man, Babe. Comes a point a grown man can't tell his mother everything even if he always has before." I drew a shaky breath. CJ had never shared his hopes and dreams with me. No doubt my own fault. Even with a crippled leg I could be intimidating, or so I was told.
She was quiet for a long time. I thought she was finished. But then she said, "I was almost asleep. CJ and Kate were in the kitchen." Kate, CJ's long time girl, a woman now. She'd been with us for the graduation ceremony, every bit as proud as we were, maybe more so. "They started arguing. They never argue. Kind of amazing considering the force of their personalities. The bedroom door was closed. I couldn't understand their words. I could only hear them getting louder and more angry. Then Kate started crying, the front door slammed and everything got quiet."
She stopped and looked up at me. I cupped her face with one hand and with my thumb I caught the tear that trickled down her cheek. "They were supposed to go out to celebrate. Ranger, I thought he was going to propose. I thought pretty soon we were going to have a daughter as well as a son. I waited a few minutes and went out to the living room. CJ was standing there, staring at the door. I've never seen him look quite like that, so focused, so determined. I started to ask him what was wrong, what I could do to help but he cut me off. He said, Sorry, Mom. It's Dad I have to talk to. Dad will understand."
Unease lodged in my chest. Only faintly did I hear Steph ask, "Oh God, Ranger, what is he thinking?"
The elevator doors slid open on seven. CJ was there with his hand raised, ready to hit the down button. It was like staring into a mirror. Granted it was a mirror that was thirty-eight years old. He looked exactly like I had at twenty-four. The same black hair and eyes, the same mocha latte coloring. Same height. Same build. He was me with short hair.
He glanced past me into the elevator's empty space. Looking for Steph.
"Your mother stopped in to see Ella and Louis," I told him. "They wanted a report on graduation."
The Guzmans had been RangeMan's faithful housekeeper and maintenance man for decades. With no sons or daughters of their own, any RangeMan offspring automatically became their honorary grandchild. When they retired I wanted to buy them a house. Anywhere they chose. Somewhat sheepishly, they asked if they might be able to stay in their Haywood apartment. Close to the people they loved. I couldn't argue with that. Steph and I had tried the whole suburban household thing after CJ was born. It didn't last long. Neither one of us was happy. We missed being in the thick of things at RangeMan headquarters. Missed the men. They were our family too. We sold the house and remodeled the apartment on seven to accommodate the three of us. We'd already known there wouldn't be any more children.
I limped painfully across the hall to the apartment door.
"Where's your cane?"
"Left the fucker downstairs," I told my oh-so-helpful son.
I hated the damn cane. Had only started to use it regularly in the last couple of years when age, arthritis and my refusal to rely on painkillers made getting around inconvenient. CJ had never known me without a limp. My leg had been ruined before he was born. Ruined before I married his mother. It was almost the reason I hadn't married his mother. The injury nearly killed me. The upside was I'd been forced out of the field and the street by my disability. It became less likely I'd leave her a young widow. Less likely a former enemy would emerge to hurt her.
CJ followed me as I entered the apartment, dropped my keys into the tray on the sideboard and went into the kitchen. His voice, edgy and defensive, cut into my thoughts.
"Mom rat me out? Send you up here? I told her I was coming down. To see you," he explained, like I'd have no idea why he might do that.
He was right. I didn't. I'd never been my son's confidant. Had no idea how to fulfill that role. I busied myself at the refrigerator. Pulled out two bottles of water. Kept one. Offered one.
Carefully, I said, "Your mother mentioned you might have something on your mind."
I braced myself against one of the tall kitchen stools to take the weight off my leg, uncapped my bottle and took a long pull, allowing him time to respond.
He laughed a little before he said, "That might be an understatement. Providing I make the grade, I'm on a fast-track for Ranger training."
The fluid that had been on its way down my esophagus detoured to my trachea and then up my nose. I gasped and choked. My eyes watered as I hung my head over the sink trying not to drown.
CJ pounded on my back. Handed me a towel. "Jeez, Dad. Take it easy. I don't want to kill you."
No problem. His mother would handle that.
I coughed and wiped my eyes. Figured it was too late to attempt a blank face.
When I could breathe again, when I'd regained some semblance of my dignity, I managed to get out, "How is that possible?"
"I enlisted six months ago."
"But school? You graduated yesterday...with honors."
"The Army likes me. Once I made my interest known, they were more than happy to work out a schedule so I could finish my degree." Looking me in the eye he went on, "It didn't hurt that I was Carlos Manoso's son. You're something of a legend."
Damn.
I'd been proud to serve my country. Would willingly have given up my life. Had lost my mobility. But, there still were nightmares about some of the things I'd had to do. Nights when I woke up in a cold sweat and Steph held me to chase away the horror. I was relieved when CJ chose the foreign service rather than the military. I didn't want him sucked into the ugly world I'd known.
"What about your appointment at the State Department? They like you too. You'd do well..."
"Dad," he interrupted, "don't you see? I'm trained as a diplomat. If I train as a warrior too, I'm a double-edged sword. I want to wield that weapon. It's important to me."
He held my gaze. Never flinched. Not many men could do that. Even now.
I took a good look at my son. I'd told Steph he was a grown man. He was all that; but although I'd said the words, I had still been thinking of him as a boy. Still thinking it was possible to remedy my inadequacies as a father. I'd run out of time. Broken one of my own cardinal rules. "Need to be more aware of your surroundings, Manoso," I muttered to myself. The man in front of me was strong, healthy, principled and determined. I hadn't seen it coming and I didn't believe I'd had much to do with it.
I would support his decision. It was his to make and one he'd obviously considered at length, but there was one thing I had to clarify.
"CJ, I hope you know how proud I am of what you've already accomplished. Don't do this because you think you have something to prove to me. You don't."
"I know. That's not the reason. At least not the only reason." He grinned, "I know Mom won't be happy. Don't worry, I'll make sure she knows this isn't all your fault. Dad, I was raised in a building with a gym and a firing range. I grew up working out, keeping fit and perfecting my marksmanship. The men I respected, besides you, were all ex-military. I've heard about your ops. I know the stuff you did was hard, but I know too that what you did made the world a better, safer place. For me. For Mom. For everyone.
I scowled. "How do you know about my ops?"
He laughed out loud. "My babysitters were Special Forces vets, Dad. They all served under you. Think they told me fairy tales for bedtime stories? Think again."
He reassured me when he saw the look on my face. "It's okay. They sanitized things when I was younger."
"Hell, no wonder your mother kept finding toy guns under your pillow."
He wasn't done. "At least they cleaned things up until last March."
"March?"
"Spring break. The evening I went out with 'The Uncles'.
'The Uncles', CJ's collective nickname for Bobby, Tank and Lester.
"I got a more graphic description that night."
"Why would they do that?" I asked cautiously.
"Because I asked them to. I needed to know."
Shit. I hated that he knew about that part of me. It was done. I hoped the guys had been select about what they told him. My son wasn't looking at me like I was a monster so I let it go. Tried to make light of it.
"Sounds like I still need to hand out some serious mat time."
We shared a smile. I couldn't remember when that had happened last.
He leaned against the counter. Bowed his head. Put his hands in his pockets. I knew we weren't through, but he remained quiet. Finally, I asked.
"Anybody besides me know about your plans?"
Serious, he said, "Just you." He took a breath, "...and Kate."
"She just find out?" I was fishing. Something caused their argument.
"No, she's known a while. We talked about it before I signed the papers."
He got points there. I wouldn't have been that smart. Hadn't been many times over with Steph.
"She okay with it?"
A long pause. "I thought so."
Silence.
"She know everything? About the Rangers?"
His poise finally deserted him. There was anguish in his voice.
"She knew. She knew it all."
I waited a beat. "Then why'd you fight?"
When he didn't answer, I shrugged. "Your mother mentioned that too. Said it was hard to miss."
I thought I'd lost him. His voice was hard when he finally spoke, "Kate thought we'd be getting married after I graduated. I explained tonight why that wasn't possible.
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant. Shut it again. Steph had tried to help him but he'd stopped her. I have to talk to Dad. Dad will understand. And suddenly, with painful clarity, I did. I understood he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. One he might not be able to undo. A mistake I had made before him. One I prayed I could keep him from making now.
"Do you love her?"
He swallowed hard. Solemnly nodded yes.
"How much?"
"What do you mean?"
"Simple question. How much do you love her?"
Anger crept into his response, "I love her. All right!"
"She love you?"
"Yes."
"Enough?"
"Enough? What the hell! I don't get it! What are you talking about?"
"How much do you love her?"
He raked one hand through his hair. "Like she's my next breath, okay? That enough for you?"
"How's she feel?"
"The same." Definite. Absolute. No doubt.
"Then don't wait."
Confusion replaced the anger.
"I don't understand. You waited."
"And I've always regretted it. Regretted all the time I missed."
"But you had reasons..." he began.
"Bullshit reasons," I broke in. "It's true we had other issues to sort out, but what it finally came down to was fear, my fear. I didn't want her to worry, didn't want her to be hurt because of me. Know what? Waiting didn't make a difference. She loved me. She worried just as much, probably more. She still got hurt in spite of my good intentions. All waiting did was make her insecure. Make her think I didn't love her enough to chance the possibility of pain."
It was a long speech for me, but I wasn't sure I'd convinced him. I held up a finger. "Stay here a minute."
I left him standing there and made my way into the office off the master bedroom. I worked downstairs most of the time so we'd reduced the size of it when we remodeled. It still had a safe built into the wall. I entered the combination and, without having to look, reached in to close my hand around a small black velvet box.
CJ hadn't moved. I opened the box, held it out so he could see.
His brow wrinkled, confusion rampant now.
"What's this?"
"It's your mother's engagement ring."
"Uh. No. Mom's engagement ring has a diamond so honkin' big that half the time she's embarrassed to wear it."
"Hmmmm. I might have gone a little overboard."
I stopped. Looked at him. Waited for him to look at me.
"This is the one I never gave her."
"Never gave her?"
"I was saving it for when I finished out my government contract. I had nine months left. My final mission was already a go. I was supposed to be home for six weeks first, but a call came in. An interim project. It was a throw away job. No more than a week. In and out. Wham. Bang."
"What happened?"
"What, 'The Uncles' didn't fill you in on this one?"
"I asked them," he admitted. "They said you'd have to tell me."
"Bad intel. An ambush. I wish I could tell you more," I said with a snort. "Don't remember much once it went bad. Not much besides the pain. Somehow my local contacts got me to my ride. They told me I died on the helo. Some damn good medic brought me back. When I woke up in the hospital your mother was sitting there."
I stopped, took a sip of water. "Ever wonder why you never saw pictures of our wedding?"
He hesitated, "Naw. Sorry, too girlie."
That's my boy.
I pulled out my wallet, extracted a small faded photograph and handed it to him.
He studied it for a long moment then handed it back. "You look like hell," he said.
"That's because things were still pretty dicey. I was already a wealthy man. I wanted to make sure your mother shared in that and had the protection of my name if I didn't make it. The hospital chaplain married us. Ten minutes later I lost consciousness and didn't surface again for three weeks."
"Man."
I had another piece of information. "During those three weeks your mother found out she was expecting you."
His mouth opened in surprise. "I was lucky," I told him. "Don't wait. Not if you love her. Go see Kate."
I closed the little box. Put it in his hand. "Take this with you."
"Shouldn't Mom have this?" he asked.
"I think she'd rather you did."
CJ straightened his shoulders. "Thank you, Dad," he said. There were tears in his eyes. He got that from his mother.
He stuck out his hand. I shook it, held on and pulled him into my embrace. Hugged him tight.
CJ was on his way out when Steph came in. He grabbed her in a quick hug and pecked her on the cheek.
"Bye, Mom. See you later."
With no opportunity to quiz her boy, Steph joined me on the couch, curiosity coming out her ears.
"Babe."
I held her close for a thorough kiss. Maybe a little more if I got lucky.
"Oh no. Don't you 'Babe' me Ranger Manoso. I recognize a distraction when I see one. I used to be damn good at them ya know."
"You're still good at them, Babe. I'm completely distracted."
"Ranger!"
"What?"
"CJ?"
"Our son."
"I know that. Where's he going?"
"Kate."
"Are they making up?"
I nuzzled her neck. "Working on it."
She pushed me away. "There's more to it than that."
I sighed. Told her. Held her while she cried.
Her eyes were still bright when she cradled my face in her hands.
"I'm so proud of him," she whispered.
"Why is that?"
"Because he's very much his father's son and it doesn't get any better than that."
"Thanks, Babe."
I don't argue with her. Not any more.
The End.