Chapter 11

After dropping off her latest FTA, chronic kleptomaniac Myrna Hopsteader, at the Trenton PD, Steph stopped by the bonds office to cash in her body receipt. To avoid Vinnie, she went in the back door, entering the main office from the storage room.

Connie was sitting down at her desk with Lula leaning against it, blocking Connie's view as Steph came into the room. They were talking in hushed tones, but Steph could still hear them.

"He went up to her apartment with her?" Lula asked. "I don't believe it!"

"That's what my cousin said. She said Ranger left with her just minutes after coming into the bar, and they snuck out the back door to the apartment elevators. According to my cousin, his hands were running all over her like hot syrup on pancakes."

Steph stood still at the mention of Ranger. Ranger with a woman? Steph's imagination went into hyperdrive. He'd just asked her to move in with him, and now he was with another woman? Had he just asked her because he felt sorry for her? Because she needed a place to stay? Like when he loaned her vehicles when she needed one? Like when he offered her jobs when she needed money? Omigod, it hadn't been an offer of a relationship; it hadn't been him making a commitment. She'd been right not to do it. She didn't want his pity.

Lula's head swept from one side to the other. "Shoot! I never heard of Ranger with a woman... besides Stephanie. I mean… that man is so fine and so sexy, of course, he must have women, but you just never hear about 'em. What did she look like?"

"She was drop-dead gorgeous, a real knock-out. Red hair, stacked, long legs. Did I mention that she was stacked? My cousin said she was dressed as a professional, and by that, I don't mean a professional ho, I mean a businesswoman. Real classy. She even carried a briefcase."

Steph gave a little gasp, and Lula swiveled around and saw her. She and Connie shot quick glances at each other and stopped talking, guilty looks on their faces.

"Hey, Steph," Connie gestured her over. "The coast's clear. Vinnie's already left for the day." Connie pretended to shuffle papers, and Lula moved around to the front of the desk.

Steph pulled herself together and waved her body receipt. "I got Myrna Hopsteader. Counting Danny Ziegler, that's two down, four to go."

"Make that five. I have another skip for you. Vinnie bailed out Simon Diggery, our favorite gravedigger. Drunk and disorderly. As usual, he missed his court hearing."

Steph took the new file from Connie and slipped it into her handbag, and then handed over the body receipt. As Connie counted out two one-hundred-dollar bills, Steph asked, as nonchalantly as she could manage, "So, Ranger's dating a long-legged, busty redhead?"

"I don't know if dating is the right word," Connie said. "But, he was seen in the company of a woman that fits that description. It could have been a client."

Lula snorted. "More like Ranger was the client," she mumbled.

"Shut up," Connie hissed. She glanced up at Steph. "Ranger's a businessman. I bet he has to meet with lots of different people, men and women."

Lula snorted again. "In a bar? At night? And leavin' with her out the back door? I know what kinda business they were doing."

Steph swallowed loudly. "Whatever they were doing, it's Ranger's business, not ours." Before she turned away, she told Connie, "Tell Vinnie I have a good lead on that high bond FTA, Jake Fuller. I think he's holed up with his old girlfriend. Lester said he'd help me bring him in, but he can't do it until the weekend." She rushed out of the room before Lula could insinuate anything else about what Ranger might be doing with or to other women.

She slumped over the steering wheel of the Mustang. "Sally, what's happening to my life? First Joe, and now Ranger." She could feel her world slipping away, and in its place there was a void. Both of the men in her life seemed to have moved on. And she was standing still. And... standing alone. Her mind went blank and she sat in her car for a long time, not moving and not even really thinking.

Eventually, a shiver ran through her, sparking a jolt of energy. She turned the ignition on and heard it grind, but it didn't catch. "C'mon, Sally." She cranked it over again and relief flooded her face as the engine roared to life. "Ride, Sally, ride," she sang but without any enthusiasm, as the Mustang left the alley and merged with traffic on Hamilton.

She looked at the car's clock. All she really wanted to do was go home and bury herself under the covers, but that wasn't an option today. She had some time before she had to pick up her grandmother from the afternoon viewing at the funeral parlor, so she stopped by the pet store. While she had a few dollars in her pocket she figured she should lay in a food supply for Rex, so at least one of them would be able to eat in the hard times she knew were ahead of them, once she was kicked out of her apartment when it went condo.

Steph grabbed a five-pound bag of hamster kibble off the shelf and walked up to the cash register. The woman behind the counter looked up just as Steph plopped the bag down. "Stephanie Plum!" she cried. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"Barbara? Barbara Bonino. The last time I saw you was at my cousin's wedding. I didn't know you worked here."

"You knew I got married and had three kids?" Barbara queried as she rang up the purchase. Steph nodded. Barbara rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, I guess my life took a page out of your book. I caught my husband in bed with my next door neighbor. Now, I'm working in a pet store to make ends meet."

Steph grunted. "I can identify with that," she said. "The last few weeks have been a real struggle for me, too."

"I heard. How are you doing?" Barbara asked with exaggerated concern and a sad face.

"What do you mean?" Steph frowned, as she handed money to Barbara. There were always rumors flying around the Burg, and she wondered what was currently being said about her.

Barbara dropped her eyes and squinched her mouth. "Um...well, you know. Joe...dumping you for another woman." She shrugged her shoulders and darted her eyes to Steph and away again.

Now it was Steph's turn to roll her eyes. "For your information, and that of everyone in the Burg, Joe did not dump me," she said. She winced inwardly as she made the next semi-true statement. "He asked me to marry him and I said no. And then we both moved on. Joe's free to date whoever he wants." Let the gossipmongers chew on that, Steph crowed silently.

Barbara's eyes widened. "Oh. So you and Joe really are no more?"

Steph knew that was the truth, but hadn't really processed it yet. Hearing it out loud hit her hard. A lump formed in her throat, and her next words cracked a little as she spoke. "That's right." She grabbed the bag in front of her and hurried toward the door.

"You're better off without a man," Barbara called after her. "They only break your heart."

As she walked out the door, Steph realized Joe wasn't to blame for her aching heart. It was her fear of change, fear of commitment, that stopped her from taking a chance, with either of the men in her life. Make that the men who used to be in her life. She blew out a big puff of air and fought back tears. She had pushed both men away so many times, they had finally looked elsewhere and now, she was alone. And she only had herself to blame.

Steph pulled her car up in front of the funeral parlor as the afternoon viewers spilled out the front door and down the steps of the porch. Grandma Mazur was pushing her way through the crowd, shoving her large black patent leather purse in front of her, knocking people to the left and right as she surged ahead. Steph leaned across and opened the passenger door just as her grandmother reached the sidewalk.

"Step on it," Grandma Mazur shouted as she plopped herself down on the passenger seat, her purse clutched tightly to her chest. "C'mon, granddaughter. Lay some rubber and let's blow this pop stand."

Steph put the vehicle in drive and pulled away from the curb. "What's the hurry, Grandma?"

"I just want to get home in time to watch Wheel of Fortune. That Pat Sajack is some cute stud muffin," Grandma Mazur said. Then she looked back over her shoulder at the crowd still milling around on the sidewalk and smiled. Standing a little ways out from the crowd was a short elderly woman dressed all in black, who raised her bony fist and shook it in the direction of Steph's retreating vehicle.

Steph glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Grandma Bella, Joe's grandmother, shaking her fist in the air. She let out a sigh. "Did you and Bella Morelli have another fight?"

"Bella's an old fool," Grandma Mazur spat out as she patted the steel-gray curls that lay in rows across her pink scalp.

Steph took a second look at her grandmother. "Grandma, why is your dress wet? And why do you have cookie crumbs in your hair?"

"Oh, do I?" she asked, giving her head one last shake, which dislodged a cascade of crumbs from her permed hair.

Steph brushed some of the fallout off her t-shirt and fixed her grandmother with a stare. "What happened? What did you do to Bella?"

"That old hag deserves anything that comes her way. She thinks she's better than the rest of us, but she's just Sicilian trash. She and that swarthy brood of womanizers, wife beaters and alcoholics she calls a family. You're well rid of Joseph Morelli, the cheating scumbag."

Steph let another sigh. "What about Joe? And what does he have to do with your fight with Grandma Bella?"

Grandma Mazur wouldn't meet Steph's gaze.

"Grandma, tell me what happened today between you and Bella? And don't leave anything out."

Grandma Mazur rolled her dentures around in her mouth before answering. "That old witch was going on and on, bragging about that man whore of a grandson of hers, about how he dumped you for another woman. Then she started in on you saying you fooled around on Joseph, that you weren't good enough to wipe his ass. I couldn't stand it anymore..."

"Joe didn't dump me!" Steph cried, swerving the car through an intersection. "I dumped him. And me, not good enough for him. Sheesh. The one good thing about not marrying Joe is that I won't be related to that crazy old bat."

"That's what I said," Grandma Mazur agreed. "And then I dumped the pitcher of iced tea on her."

Steph grinned. "You didn't?"

Grandma Mazur cackled. "I sure did. You should have heard her screech. There was a lot of twittering and giggling going on in back of me. Everyone got a kick out of seeing that old fussbudget get her own after threatening to put the eye on so many of them."

"And how did you get cookie crumbs in your hair?"

Grandma grimaced. "When Bella got her wits about her, she grabbed the cookie tray and dumped it on me. That's when I hightailed it out of there."

"Thank you for defending me, Grandma, but you didn't need to do that."

"I'm always on your side, granddaughter. And any day I can make Bella shriek is a good day." She turned to Steph. "Don't tell your mother about Bella and me. She doesn't need the stress, and I don't need the grief."

Stephanie pulled the Mustang in behind her father's cab and then followed her grandmother into her parents' house, inhaling deeply as the delectable odor of fresh baked sugar cookies hit her nostrils.

She immediately relaxed, embracing the sameness that held her childhood home in a time warp. Nothing seemed to change here. Oh, there was the occasional new piece of furniture or appliance, but everything else stayed the same. Her dad was in the living room in his recliner, remote in hand pointed at the TV, just like he always was at this time of day. And her mom was in the kitchen cooking and baking so that dinner could be on the table promptly at six o'clock. Too bad the rest of her life wasn't this reassuringly unchanging, Steph mused.

The sweet smell of cookies drew her forward, and she rushed through the living room, dropping a quick kiss on her dad's forehead before she popped into the kitchen. "My timing's perfect," Steph announced, grabbing a still warm cookie from the baking sheet.

Her mother looked up from the pot she was stirring. "You're early, for once," Helen said. "Where's your grandmother?"

"She went upstairs," Steph said, evasively. "What's for dinner?"

"Roast chicken with mashed potatoes and peas. And I made a peach pie for dessert." She gestured toward the counter where a pie was cooling.

"With whipped cream?" Steph asked. When her mom nodded, Steph offered, "I'll set the table."

"Let your grandmother do that when she comes down. You can mash the potatoes." Helen set the bowl of steaming potatoes on the kitchen table, along with butter and a pint of milk. Steph sat down and picked up the masher, taking her frustration out on the spuds.

Helen leaned backward, to look up the stairs before saying, "This morning, she was talking about going sky diving, of all things." She sighed deeply. "Your grandmother is going to be the death of me yet."

Steph did an eye roll. Between her grandmother and herself, her mother would have been dead a thousand times over if the things they did could kill her. "Grandma just wants to make the most out of life. She even has a bucket list. I've been thinking about making one, too." Steph added butter, a splash of milk, salt and pepper to the half-mashed potatoes, then swiped her finger through the mixture, licking off the warm fluff.

"What do you need a bucket list for?" her mother exclaimed. "I would think your life is exciting enough as it is, with all the cars exploding, apartments being bombed, and getting shot at." Helen sighed again.

"My bucket list runs more to the mundane. Like being able to afford a new car or a secure apartment, ones that don't explode or get bombed. Maybe a nice quiet vacation laying on the beach."

"What about marriage? Is that on your bucket list?"

"M-o-m," Steph began, exasperation drawing out that one syllable word to at least three.

"You're right, Stephanie," Helen acknowledged. "It's time I back off on the marriage talk."

Steph looked over at her mother, her eyes wide and the start of a frown on her face. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed.

Helen pulled the pot of gravy off the burner, came over to the table and sat across from her daughter. "I thought you would be happier if you were married, but I've come to realize that married life isn't the answer for everyone," Helen confessed.

Steph's jaw dropped, a fleck of mashed potatoes clinging to her chin.

Helen reached across the table and wiped her daughter's chin. "It's all right if you don't get married. And if you need to move back home, that's all right, too."

A shudder ran through Steph at the thought of moving in with her parents and grandmother. She loved her family, but living with them, on a permanent basis, was not an option. She started mashing the potatoes with a vengeance.

"Your father and I already have four beautiful granddaughters, so, if you never have children, I won't complain." Her mother nodded, as if trying to convince herself. "You're not a failure, Stephanie."

Startled, Steph looked up at her mother. A failure? Is that how others saw her? Steph sighed as she went over the last few years of her life. She was in her mid-thirties, not married, had no kids, and no money. She'd gone through a messy public divorce, lost her buyer's job, was working for her pervert of a cousin, had multiple cars destroyed, her apartment bombed and not just once, and now everyone thought Joe had dumped her.

"Is that the gossip? That I'm a failure, just because I'm not married or have a bunch of snot-nosed brats?" she asked, anger and frustration evident in her shaking voice.

"I'm not up on the latest gossip, Stephanie. It doesn't matter, in any case, what people say." That was her mother's attempt to be kind, Stephanie realized. Her mom couldn't have given her any better proof that she was once again the center of the Burg gossip mill.

"Nice try, Mom. What are they saying?"

"It's not so much about you," her mother said hesitantly. "It's more about Joe and his new friend."

"I think she's more than a friend," Stephanie said.

"Well, if Joe marries his new…friend, people don't need to assume that you never will get married. And if you don't, they don't need to assume that being single would be a bad thing." Helen stood abruptly. "Now, go call your grandmother down before the food gets cold."

Stephanie stood up, nearly knocking the kitchen chair over. "I've got to go."

"What about dinner?"

"I'm not hungry." She glanced over at the counter. "Well, maybe the pie." She looked questioningly at her mother, who nodded. Steph grabbed the pie and headed for the door. She stopped, turned on one foot and went back to wrap her mother in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom."

"Here," her mother said, as she took the can of whipped cream out of the refrigerator and tucked it in Steph's arm. Nothing says I love you more than whipped cream on your piece of pie.