Author's Note: Here is installment number two, again based off of a song by Collective Soul. This piece is inspired by "Forgiveness" from their album, "Disciplined Breakdown." The lyrics are at the end. This occurs several months after the conclusion of "Him". If I had more inspiration I would write a transition between the two, but I'm sorely lacking in that department.
NittanyGirl told me that the reference to the temperature isn't acurate for the area... I'll acknowledge I should change that, but I want to whine about how cold I've been for the last few weeks. January in Wisconsin can be down right miserable. I am so ready for spring!
Again, for the usual disclaimer: It's not mine.
And, once again, this is from Joe's point of view.
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Forgiveness
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A light snow had started falling some time during the day, adding to the inches that had been left neglected on the roads by the city after last week's storm system. The advancing January days brought those bright sunny days that looked perfect until you stepped outside and had your breath taken away by the cold. Today things had finally warmed up enough that the weather service wasn't constantly broadcasting their frost bite warnings, and even the single digit temperatures felt like a heat wave after the double-digits-below-zero days that we had been experiencing.
I parked the SUV in my small driveway, just outside the garage. I had considered cleaning out enough of the garage so that both the SUV and Ducati could fit in there, but it would have taken a lot more effort than I was willing to devote to it. The way I saw things, I had to shovel out the driveway whether or not I parked the SUV in the garage. This way, I didn't have to worry about the fact that I was pretty sure that the garage door was frozen shut after December's bout of freezing rain.
I turned the car off and made my way to the house, a ghost of a smile playing at my lips as I listened to Bob gallop towards the door. Bob greeted me with his usual enthusiasm and bounded down the front steps to take care of things on the miniscule front lawn. I waited for him to return, then closed the door against the cold and dumped my keys on the sideboard and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Bob was still standing at the front door, watching me as I made my way back into the living room.
"No walk right now, Bob," I told him. He gave me some sad puppy-dog eyes, but walked over and flopped into his bed. "Maybe later."
I flopped onto the couch, turning on the television and finding a game of some sort. It didn't really matter what was on, it just amounted to white noise, something to keep me from thinking too much.
The last few months had been long, tedious months. I'd made a point to avoid contact with Stephanie and her family. It made things simpler when I didn't put myself in situations that would require pleasant small talk with her family. The last thing I wanted right now was to undergo an interrogation by Mrs. Plum or Grandma Mazur. I still considered them to be a part of my family and wasn't intending to avoid them forever or drive them away, but it felt like salt on the wound.
For that matter, I'd spent a good bit of my time avoiding my own family. I'd endured enough of my mother's long-suffering looks as she looked at each of my siblings and their spouses and children and silently asked me when I was going to have a family of my own. Mom wanted a big family; Mom wanted grandkids; and I was the only one who hadn't provided yet.
The way I saw things, misery was best suffered alone.
Damn, it had been another long day. It would have been one thing if I felt like I'd made the slightest bit of progress on my case, but I'd spent it instead trying to work my way through a sea of red tape. Instead of wrapping things up, I'd accomplished nothing.
There were days like this when I just wanted to close my eyes and convince myself that Stephanie would be walking through the door any minute, ready to unwind after a long day of work.
I looked down at my cell phone, thumb hovering over the speed dial programmed to Stephanie's number. I honestly didn't remember picking it up. Damn, I missed her. To bolster my resolve, I tried to conjure up the image of her and Ranger in front of the bonds office a few months ago, but the edges were blurred and the memory didn't produce the heart-tearing pain it had even a month ago. I wondered how much longer I'd have to wait for her to come back. It's the way things always worked for us. We'd storm out, we'd spend some time apart, and we'd find our way back together.
Let her make the first move, I told myself firmly. I'd lost count of how many times I'd told myself that lately, but I figured one more time wouldn't hurt. Ultimately, it had been her actions that had ended things.
Again, I was watching the phone, thumb nearly pressing the speed dial.
Probably I should break out of the house soon and think about dating again. It'd probably be for the best. It would probably make my mother sleep easier at night knowing that I was still thinking about settling down someday.
My eyes turned back to the phone again.
Probably I should call one of the guys, maybe head out for a guy's night with Mooch and my brothers. It'd probably be good to have some beers with the guys and unwind. Try to find something normal to do, rather than sitting at home with the ghosts of my dead love-life.
I opened my eyes and watched my phone again.
Shit.
I flipped the phone closed, setting it on the coffee table in front of me, grabbing the beer instead.
Too bad placing the phone out of reach didn't stop me from thinking.
Was this really all her fault, a little voice inside my head asked. Yes, I told it. I'd waited a long time for Stephanie to decide between me and Ranger. I was patient. I bit my tongue when I could to keep from issuing all the ultimatums I wanted to demand of her, and to prevent myself from falling back into yelling and waving my arms around, taking the typical Italian route of venting frustration. Granted some of it slipped out, but it was fueled solely by my concern for her, and I was working on it. Probably I shouldn't have kept telling her that she needed to quit her job. Probably I shouldn't have left all the times that I did. Probably I shouldn't have let her walk away as many times as I did.
Okay, I told the voice, maybe it was kind of my fault.
I probably could learn a few things from our failed attempts at a relationship. It had taken some time, but I'd learned to trust, learned to love her, despite my determination never to fall in love in my youth. If we worked at it, I think we could probably get things back to the point that we trusted each other. Probably when she scared the shit out of me I could find a better way of handling things than issuing ultimatums, since all that ever seemed to do was piss her off even more. Maybe it would help if I told her what was running through my mind when she was in danger.
Damn, I missed her.
I absently rubbed Bob's furry orange head when he ambled over and placed his head on my leg, taking another long drink of my beer. He had seemed a little off for the last few weeks. I felt a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth knowing that I wasn't the only one longing for her company.
We'd been on-again, off-again many times over the years, but this time it felt different. It had been six or seven months now, since I last saw her. At first she'd tried calling, tried to see me, but I wouldn't have any of it. I wouldn't admit it to anyone, but the hurt went deep. I suppose that reluctance was part of the macho-Italian thing I was born with. And, until now, I truly hadn't wanted to do anything to try to smooth things over. Until now, forgiveness for her mistakes, and the many that I'd made along the way throughout our relationship, had been the last thing on my mind.
Now I wanted… I wasn't quite sure anymore. I wanted her back, I suppose, but more than anything I think I just wanted to make things right between us, put something together that we could build a future on.
Damn, so much for being the pissed-off boyfriend.
I heaved out a heavy sigh and Bob turned his gaze up at my face. "Yeah, I know," I told him, "I really want her back." Bob pushed himself to his feet and licked at my hand. I blew out another sigh, "I really want to forgive her."
We sat in silence for a moment while I absently patted his head. "You're not gonna tell anyone I'm in this bad of shape, are ya?" I asked him as he settled himself on the sofa, placing his head back in my lap and watching me until I started petting him again. "You keep that secret for me, and I won't tell Steph you've been sleeping on the furniture." Not that the amount of orange fur on every surface wouldn't give it away.
I turned my attention back to the television, but my eyes would stray to the clock every few minutes. Finally, even thought it was a bit early, I gave up on the television and made my way into the kitchen, pulling leftovers out of the fridge and placing them in the microwave. That about summed up my culinary finesse. I could make the basic staples when the need presented itself, like macaroni and cheese in the face of one of Steph's disasters. It seemed like a lot of effort to do anything more than toss a plate in the microwave at the moment. Bob had followed me in like a shadow and he now sat watching the microwave, waiting for his share to be dumped in his food dish.
When the timer sounded, I dumped Bob's portion into his dish and he promptly inhaled it. I took a more leisurely approach, leaning against the kitchen counter and poking at my spaghetti with my fork. "You know," I told Bob as he sat at my feet, waiting for something, anything, to fall from my plate, "I should call Mooch. I need a guy's night." Bob licked his lips, eyes trained on my plate, a shoestring of drool hanging out the side of his mouth.
"I think I might have that same look, drool and all, if Steph walked in the door right now," I mumbled as I tossed him a chunk of meat from the sauce.
Bob quirked his head, ears perked, at the sound of her name.
"Shit, I've gotta stop thinking like this." I rolled my eyes and dumped the food let on my plate back into the container. "We'll finish this tomorrow night," I told him, knowing that it was unlikely that I'd want to cook something.
I had just settled back into my place on the sofa when the phone rang. My heart rate still kicks up when my phone starts ringing and I'm not expecting a call. The last few months have been better now that I don't have every cop and emergency responder letting me know when Stephanie had found trouble, but the worry, and the fear that I don't like to acknowledge, are still there.
I grabbed the receiver from the coffee table and swallowed hard to dislodge my heart from my throat. Without sparing a glance for the caller id, I picked up. "Hello?"
"Joe?"
Stephanie. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe, my mouth went dry, and my heart pounded. Desperate to sound casual, and knowing that with my throat dry I'd sound anything but, I frantically grabbed he nearly empty beer in front of me and took a drink. "Yeah?" I asked, going for the most non-committal response I could think of.
There was a long silence on the other end, but the sound of the car engine confirmed that she was still on the line. "H-how have you been?" she asked softly.
"I've been better," I replied honestly.
"Me too," she murmured. Again, she paused for a moment before she continued. "Can I come in?"
I was on my feet and moving towards the front door, heart once again lodged in my throat. Yes! that little voice inside my head cried. I bit my tongue to prevent from shouting it at her. Shit, I really needed to pull myself together. Luckily, I had installed some blinds over the front windows last year, a sensible precaution in case the action had started when Stephanie and I were still downstairs, so if she was sitting in her car outside the door she couldn't see me as I restlessly paced the living room. Bob had leaped off the sofa with me and now was dancing around my feet, stepping on my toes as he circled me.
"Please, I really need to talk to you."
"That's fine," I told her, grimacing at how rough my voice sounded.
She started to reply, but seemed to think better of it. "I'll be right there."
I took a deep, shaky breath and fell back behind the neutral mask I spent the bulk of my day behind. My 'cop face', Stephanie called it. Right now, I wasn't in any shape to greet her any other way. I was firmly torn between wanting to wrap her up in my arms, swearing I'd never let her go, and reminding her that she'd made her choice when she'd fallen into Ranger's arms.
I opened the door as she came up the steps, holding the door open with my shoulder, one hand looped into Bob's collar, the other reaching out the door towards her. "Careful," I warned her, "there's some nasty ice out there"
She nodded and grasped the hand I held out to her. "Thanks," she murmured. Damn, it felt good to touch her again, even in this minimal way.
Bob was beyond excited, leaping and straining against my grip on him. I closed the door behind Stephanie as she slipped in past me. "You ready for this?" I asked, nodding my head towards Bob, who was still trying to figure out a way to escape me.
Stephanie smiled and pushed a few stray hairs out of her face, setting her purse on the sideboard. "Yeah," she replied, crouching down to catch him in a hug as he bounded into her arms.
Damn, she was a sight for sore eyes. She hadn't changed much since I had seen her last. Her always unruly dark brown hair had obviously been pulled into a loose pony tail early this morning and her day had been the kind that had left more of her hair loose and falling in her face than captured at the base of her neck. Her eyes had been carefully guarded when she entered, but as she buried her hands in Bob's fur they lit with happiness and a genuine smile curved across her lips. Her voice flowed over me, her words nonsense directed at Bob as he danced happily around her.
It took all of my self control to keep my expression neutral. As things were, I thought I was cracking as I fought the corner of my mouth that was beginning to tilt upwards. "He's missed you," I said softly.
"I've missed him, too."
I took a deep breath, part of me wanting nothing more than to gather her up in my arms and whisk her away to the bedroom for the night, the other wanting to find out what she wanted so she would leave and I wouldn't have to try to keep up the mask of indifference. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
After a few moments Bob had settled enough to sit down at her feet, his big brown eyes watching her hopefully. Visibly gathering her composure, Stephanie pushed herself to her feet and brushed the Bob hair off. She took a couple of deep breaths and I waited patiently, drinking in the sight of her.
"Joe, I wanted to apologize," she said softly. I nodded, at a loss for words. This wasn't the Stephanie I was used to seeing. Usually I could mildly describe her as a force to be reckoned with, a fiery Italian temper hidden behind her stoic Hungarian exterior. I wasn't sure what to do with this quiet, uncertain Stephanie. She blew out a breath, directing it upwards, lifting her hair so slightly. That corner of my mouth started to tilt upwards. "I miss you," her voice was part grumble, part uncertain whisper, completely something only Stephanie could achieve, I was sure.
"And?" I prompted.
She glanced up for a brief moment, eyes locking on mine for a heartbeat before she directed them at our feet. Another deep breath, "I'm sorry, Joe. I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you," her eyes had darted upwards while she spoke, but dropped again as her voice faded. Embarrassed, scared, uncertain, I could see it all in those brief glimpses of her face.
I shoved a hand through my hair. "I'm sure you remember how it feels." Shit, that probably wasn't the best thing to say.
She nodded, "I never wanted to do that to you." Her eyes became distant for a moment, and I knew her well enough to realize that the memory of finding her first husband cheating on her was at the forefront of her mind.
Stephanie threw up her hands, turning to pace the living room. How she could go from quiet and sedate to this in the space of a heartbeat left me struggling to keep up. "Steph?" I asked, watching her every move as she stormed from one end of the room to the other. Bob was in motion as well, glued to her side and stepping on her feet. She did this for several minutes, mumbling low under her breath.
Just as suddenly as she started, she came to an abrupt stop in front of me. "I'm so sorry, Joe. I've tried to figure out what to do, but I don't know. I don't know what I can do to make this better.
"I was so stupid," she continued, "so damn stupid."
"What do you want, Steph?"
"You. I want you back." There was no hesitation and her voice was firm for the first time since she had walked through the door. No doubts. I remained silent, watching her as she shoved her hair out of her face again. "I miss us. I miss sitting in here with a pizza and beer and watching the game. I miss your coffee, because I swear it tastes better here than anywhere else, and I honestly don't know why. But most of all, I miss waking up to the feel of your arms around me," she finished in a whisper.
"And this shit with Ranger?"
She started to turn away, but I placed a hand on her shoulder, needing to see her face. My touch was gentle, and to my surprise she didn't fight it. "At first, it was easy because I would go to him when we fought. Then, I couldn't decide what I wanted.
"How could I have been so damn stupid?" she asked no one in particular.
You wanted to forgive her. Now's your chance, that little voice in my head told me. I suppose that it's right. Again. Well, I asked the voice, what the hell am I supposed to do?
"I can't keep doing this, Stephanie. The on-again, off-again, we're engaged today, but next week we're not, all the bullshit. I can't keep doing this. This is it."
"No more. This is it, Joe. I want us," her words followed immediately after mine and her eyes sparkled with tears.
I wanted to believe her, wanted to go back to where we were this summer, but I couldn't do that without a few answers. "Ranger, he's out of the picture?" She nodded vigorously. "Completely over? I don't want to do this, but I'm asking it because I don't trust him," I said carefully. I'm not sure that I can trust you, I didn't say the words out loud, but I knew she heard it nonetheless. I wanted to trust her again, and I would be willing to give it one more shot if it meant we could spend the rest of our lives together. All or nothing.
"I've made it clear that it's over. I shouldn't have ever let anything happen in the first place."
"Why? What was it that I did, or didn't, do that wasn't enough for you?"
"Because I liked the chase. I liked having both of you chasing after me. It felt good to be wanted like that, you know, not just some cast-off when the local whore comes calling." So it did come back to her marriage to Dickie. Fidelity was required for her, I had known that going in, and I'd made sure that I had never strayed from her since we had gotten together. Really, since she had knocked on my door and waltzed back into my life, chasing me all over the city trying to bring me in. I wondered if she knew that.
"I should have told him to back off when this all started," she continued.
"But you didn't."
"No."
"And that day, this summer?"
"When you saw him kiss me?" she turned her gaze towards the floor again, but not fast enough that I didn't catch the hint of a smile on her lips. "You didn't see him land on his ass in the gutter for that one."
I blinked, distantly wondering if my mouth was hanging open in shock. "Run that by me again."
Stephanie kept her head down, quite obviously uncomfortable. "He thought that since I left like I did…" she paused, a slight tremble in her voice. I doubted anyone who didn't know her as well as me would have heard it at all. "He thought I'd made my decision," she finished softly.
God, I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and say something to keep her from crying, but I knew it wouldn't do us any good. There were things that needed to be said. But, damn, I hated seeing her cry. "He wasn't the only one," I grumbled instead. I hated seeing her hurting like this, but I couldn't let her forget that I was hurting too.
"I did make my decision." She looked up at me, those beautiful blue eyes pooling with tears. "That's why I was so mad at you when you called—when you couldn't make it to dinner…" she paused, took a deep breath, her voice shaking again when she continued. "I wanted to tell you that I…"
Was she really saying what I thought she was?
"I choose you."
"Are you sure?" I asked. Shit, was my voice shaking now? Damn, I hope not. I'd never be able to live it down if she thought I was half as shaken by the conversation as I really was.
She nodded, her hand reaching out to curl around mine. "I love you."
And that was it. She shattered the last of my self control. I gathered her up in my arms, hands slipping between her soft sweater and her bulky jacket, easing it off her shoulders and kissing he with a hunger I didn't realize had been building. "Any chance you still have that ring, Cupcake?" I asked, still close enough that my lips brushed hers when I spoke.
She nodded a dazed look on her face. I gathered that meant the conversation had gone better than she'd hoped. I felt a wide grin stretch across my face and I wondered if I would ever stop grinning if I got that ring on her finger. "In—in my purse," she stammered.
Since it looked like she was still reeling, I unwrapped my arms from around her, taking the opportunity to slide her jacket off her arms and onto the floor, and then started searching through her purse. Under normal circumstances I'm sure she'd be yelling at me for invading her space. At the moment, though, she was a bit too dazed to protest—which did wonders for my ego.
It didn't long to find the little ring box and I felt my heart pounding in my chest when I closed my hand around it. I had thought long and hard about how I wanted to properly propose to her, and now I couldn't remember a single thing I'd meant to say.
Guess I'll wing it, I decided.
Taking a deep breath, I placed the velvet box in her hands. "What do you say, Cupcake?" I murmured, keeping my hands wrapped gently hers, "Can we make this work? We've got a lot to sort out and a lot of things to talk about, but…" She nodded when I trailed off, the tears in her eyes now coursing down her cheeks. "Marry me?" I breathed.
"Yes," her voice as soft as mine had been.
I kissed her again lightly, still holding the ring box between us. When I leaned back I shifted my hand so that I could open the lid of the little box. I glanced up at her face, relieved to see that she seemed to be coming back to her senses. I thought for a moment, then smiled again. "Did you peek?" I teased.
Stephanie shook her head, her expression solemn, curls swaying on each side of her face. "No. I had my mom check it, though… to be sure that nothing inside was damaged or anything. She kept it for a few days while the box dried. I've kept it in there since…"
I was shocked. Normally Stephanie would never let a secret lie. We'd endured more arguments over things she thought I was hiding from her than I could count… but she'd never looked at the ring. "I'm impressed." And proud, I added silently.
"I thought you would be," she replied tartly, flashing me a smile, thought it was still a bit watery. "Can I see it now?"
Hoping that my hand wasn't shaking, and knowing that if it was there was no way I could hide it with my hands still wrapped around hers, I lifted the top of the box and pulled the ring out before she had a chance to study it. She wrinkled her nose a little bit in disappointment, but remained silent as I took her left hand in mine, slipping the ring on the appropriate finger. I held my hand there for a moment, savoring the feel of her hand in mine, feeling my ring on her finger. "I love you, Stephanie," I told her, pulling my hand away.
She gasped, raising her hand so that the diamond caught in the light, sparkling brightly. It was a simple ring rather than flash and glitter. I knew Stephanie liked the flash and glitter, every good Jersey girl does, but it wasn't something she could comfortably wear every day. I had never thought that picking out an engagement ring would be that difficult. An engagement ring had to be pretty, had to have a nice rock, and the number of zeros on the price tag needed to be somewhere in the range that I could pay it off in my lifetime, that's all, right? My sisters had quickly proved me wrong when I'd brought them shopping with me and I'd been treated to their endless questions. We had settled on a white gold band with a single diamond. The diamond itself wasn't huge, but it was high quality and cut to catch the light. It was simple, elegant, and it looked perfect now that it was where it finally belonged. Seeing her excitement made up for the headache of shopping for it with my sisters.
"You like it?"
"Joe, it's beautiful."
"Nothing compared to you, Cupcake," I replied, claiming her mouth with mine.
I heard that poor little ring box clatter to the floor as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her flush against me and kissed her for all I was worth.
When I pulled my head back again she looked like she was somewhere beyond dazed; probably somewhere on the far side of lust. Damn, this was good for my ego. Good to know I hadn't lost my touch. "So, what were you saying about Manoso in the gutter?"
"What?"
"You said I didn't see him on his ass in the gutter. Care to fill me in?"
"Oh," she laughed softly, as if she wasn't quite sure what my reaction would be. She'd made her choice, I had my ringer on her finger; my biggest concerns were taken care of. "He… when he kissed me I pushed him off. And he came too close again and I shoved him harder… I don't know how it happened, but he tripped and landed in the huge puddle in the gutter."
My grin widened. "Okay, you got me. I wish I'd seen that part."
She returned my smile for a moment before resting her head on my shoulder, tightening my arms around her a little more. "I tried to tell you before…"
I shook my head slightly. "I wasn't ready to listen. But I've learned a thing or two about forgiveness since then."
"I'm glad," she murmured, tightening her arms around my neck. "I love you."
"I love you too, Steph."
I held her like that for a long time, my arms wrapped tightly around her and my face buried in her hair. Her breath was calm and steady, her fingers curled up around my shoulders and her head resting against my chest. It was absolute heaven.
"Want to go celebrate?"
She lifted her head from my chest and grinned. "Glad to see some things never change, Morelli."
With practiced ease I slid her sweater over her head. "I think we need to do a lot of celebrating." I smiled against her skin, tracing my tongue along the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
"Oh, boy."
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Stephanie let out a sound of annoyance as her cell phone started ringing. "Let it ring," she grumbled, snuggling in closer to my chest.
"It's your mom," I informed her, reading the display.
"Shit."
I chuckled, "Just talk to her."
She pushed herself up, leaning on her elbow and looking down at me. "What time is it, anyway?"
I turned far enough to read the display on the alarm clock, fingers tangling in her hair. "Six fifteen."
"Shit!"
"What's the matter?" I asked and flipped the phone open before it could go to her voice mail.
She shot me a patented death look, putting the phone up to her ear. "Hi, Mom." Stephanie continued to glare at me, but I thought the eye roll was directed at her mother. "Yes, Mom, I know I'm late for dinner. I'm sorry… No, I'm fine, it's nothing like that… Yeah, we'll be there as soon as we can. Oh, and be sure to set Joe's spot at the table for him."
Stephanie jerked the phone away from her ear and Mrs. Plum's cry sounded clearly from the receiver. "Put Joseph on the phone!" I heard her yell.
I grinned and plucked the phone from her hand. "Hi, Mrs. Plum," I said with my grin firmly in place, eyes trained on Stephanie as she rushed around the room, and the hallway, gathering our discarded clothing.
"Did you—did you…?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes. And she said yes."
"Oh, Joseph! It's such a beautiful ring."
I jumped as a pair of boxers Stephanie threw at me landed on my face. I plucked them off, wanting to say something but settling for giving her a look. "I thought so, too," I replied.
"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it!" I could hear Grandma Mazur in the background, badgering Helen to tell her what was going on. Frank sounded occasionally as well, wanting to know what all the yelling was about.
"Neither can I," I told her, my eyes trained on Stephanie as she smoothed out her sweater, "Neither can I." She gave another cry of excitement. "We'll see you soon, Mom," I told her, waiting for her response before snapping the phone closed.
"I take that to mean she's not upset that we're going to be late."
I grinned, "Nope." I opened my mouth to make a smart ass comment, but she cut me off.
"Don't even think it Morelli. I don't owe you."
"I don't know about that, Cupcake. I just got you out of trouble with your mother. I think you owe me."
She sighed, shoving those unruly curls out of her face. "Fine. I'll make it up to you later."
"I'll look forward to it." I pushed myself to my feet and wrapped my arms around her from behind. "It won't be that bad. In fact, I promise you'll enjoy it."
Stephanie leaned her head back far enough to trace her lips along my jaw line. "I'll look forward to it."
"How much more time do you think that news bought us?" I asked, letting my hands wander.
"Hard to tell. Either hours, or Grandma Mazur's going to be knocking on the door any second."
"Damn. If we get this over with, then maybe we can come home all the sooner and celebrate some more. This wasn't nearly enough celebrating."
She chuckled, sliding out of my embrace and shoving a hand through her hair to survey the damage. "We could celebrate for weeks on end and you'd say that it wasn't enough," she laughed. She leaned closer and placed a quick kiss on my lips. "Home," she mused, "I guess this isn't going to be just your house anymore."
I ducked my head to hide my smile as I began getting dressed. "It hasn't been just my house since you first moved in with me," I informed her. "It's been our home for a while, now."
She gave me a small smile before she slipped out of the bedroom and padded barefoot to the bathroom. I chuckled contently and ran my fingers through my hair a few times to tame it.
"Ohmigod," she cried after a moment.
"What?" I called, alarmed, rushing to the bathroom door, fearing… I wasn't sure what, but something horrible must have happened for her to make that sound.
"I'm going to be Mrs. Morelli."
"There's a problem with that?" I asked lazily while my heart pounded in my chest and I tried to calm my initial panic.
She looked at me like I was insane. "That's your mother—Mrs. Morelli."
I frowned, wondering if she was the one who had lost her mind. "You lost me."
"What am I supposed to call her?"
"How about calling her 'Mom'?"
"'Mom'?"
"Yeah, Cupcake, she'll be your mother-in-law."
"I never thought of that."
"You don't need to look so panicked."
She glared at me, "And Grandma Mazur will be your grandmother-in-law."
"What it, Stephanie. By that logic Grandma Bella will be your grandmother-in-law, too."
"Shit."
She was so adorable when she was panicking. I laughed and reached in to place the socks I had picked up off the bedroom floor on the edge of the sink. "The way I see it, I can put up with anything as long as I've got you, Steph."
Stephanie flashed me a bright smile in the mirror as she put the finishing touches on her mascara. "That's really sweet."
"I aim to please."
"You're good at that."
I flashed a wolfish smile. "I have the necessary inspiration."
She turned around, closing the distance between us and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Damn good thing," she murmured before she kissed me. "And think… pretty soon you're going to be all mine."
"Lucky me."
"Speaking of lucky you, your phone's vibrating."
I knew that, could feel it in the pocket of my jeans. I sighed and glanced at the caller id. "Doesn't take the grapevine very long," I scowled.
"It's your mom. Just talk to her," she teased, flipping my phone open with her thumb. "Payback," she whispered.
I glared at her and put the phone up to my ear. "Hi, Mom."
"Joseph! Why haven't you called me?"
Because I was making sure that Stephanie knew exactly how much I had missed her, I thought. To my mother, though, I replied, "I haven't even walked out my door yet."
"Shouldn't you tell your own mother when you get engaged?"
I sighed, "It's barely been an hour."
"Plenty of time to call me."
"I'm sorry." Kind of. More sorry that I had to endure this now than sorry for not being the first to tell her.
"Well, I'm just glad you two are finally getting married. It's about time."
"Tell me about it."
I could hear the clattering of dishes in the background and the voices of my siblings and their families. At least having them all in one place would save me some time and phone calls. "You two need to pick a date soon so we can get the hall booked." A groan escaped before I could swallow it. "Don't even start, Joseph. You know that if we don't get the hall booked now that someone else will."
Stephanie had been brushing her hair and applying makeup while I was talking. Now she was leaning against the sink, watching me impatiently. "Listen, Mom, I've got to go. Mrs. Plum is waiting on us for dinner."
The loudest of the clanging on her end of the line stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. I assumed she had left the chaos of the dining room for the quiet of her kitchen. "Joseph Anthony Morelli!" she hissed. "I thought I taught you better than that! To make Helen and her family wait—" she paused, trying to find the right words. "Sex fiend, just like your father. God rest his soul."
"It's not that," I lied, slipping my arm around Stephanie's waist and pulling her close. "Really, we have to get going. I'll talk to you soon." My mother took a breath to continue, but I hit the 'end call' button before she had a chance to speak.
"That went well," Steph observed.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and kissed her lightly. "We should just elope. It'd be a lot easier."
She smiled at that, "It probably would."
I blew out a heavy sigh, shoving a hand through my hair. "Let our mothers try to plan away. We'll do what we want, Cupcake. It's our wedding. Don't worry about them."
"No more worrying," she murmured, her eyes trained on the ring on her left hand. "I've done enough of that the last few months." She fell silent again, shifting her hand until it hovered above my heart. "Joe?"
"Yeah, Steph?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Cupcake."
----------------------------------------------------------
"Forgiveness"
In my silence I would love to forget
That restitution hasn't come quite yet
And with one accord I keep pushing forth
I stretch my heart to heal some more.
It used to be all I'd want to learn
Was wisdom, trust, and truth
But now all I really want to learn
Is forgiveness for you
As my seasons change I've now grown to know
When one's heart creates one's soul doesn't owe
So I wash away stains of yesterday
And tempt my heart with love's display
**Collective Soul's "Forgiveness" from their album, "Disciplined Breakdown".
Author's Note: This is all that I have written for now. I'm working on an installment for their wedding day, but that just seems to be eluding me. I don't know when I'll be able to beat that one out of my head, but I'll post it when and if I do.
