So I wrote the majority of this chapter months ago, and after a quick note making session where I wrote down all the things that still have to happen before I get to the end, I started writing this chapter and then recalled that conversation I wrote oh so long ago. I had to modify it a bit to fit three people rather than the original two, but I'm actually a little happier with how it ends up. I'm so excited to finally start using the bits and pieaces I wrote down close to the beginning of this story!

Chapter 26

Steph's POV

I doubled over at the waist, my breath coming in short sharp gasps as I tried to get it under control. I'd just made it back to my front gate after five mile run and was now faced with the arduous task of getting ready for dinner with the Morellis. Normally, I would never both with running at all, let alone a five mile circuit of the neighbourhood, but after the shitty night sleep I'd had last night, and trying all day not to think about the contents of the nightmares that had kept me up all night, I needed to do something to get it out of my head. So I ran, wanting to experience that tight pain I usually did when I exerted myself, but as I wound my way around the streets, I realised it wasn't quite the same. I could actually breathe pretty well.

At first this realisation confounded me. Why would running all of a sudden get easier? It wasn't like I did it regularly. Only when I needed that feeling. But then it hit me. I'd been attending a yoga class once a week out near Newark for the last month ever since Joe issued his challenge, and we'd been doing a lot of breathing exercises. Apparently, my subconscious ad channelled that knowledge of breathing into my running.

Until I was about halfway home, that is, when I suddenly became winded and had to pull back to a slow jog. It didn't help that the last quarter of my route was uphill, but I eventually made it back and was now experiencing that burning in my chest I'd been craving as I left work. For some reason, I wasn't so happy to accept it as I had been the last time I went out of my way feel this way.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I straightened and made my way inside, grabbing the mail from the letter box as I passed. I stood in the front entrance, flipping through the pile. Just the usual bills and junk, it appeared. Until I got to a pale purple envelope. I didn't recognise the neat cursive handwriting on front, so I turned it over to see if there was a return address. I almost choked on my gasp as I read the name on the back. Marie Manoso.

Why would Ranger's mother be sending me anything? Curiosity coursing through my fingers, I carefully ripped open the top and slid out the glossy, professional invitation. It took a moment of tilting the piece of cardboard around before I found a position where the light wasn't catching it in the wrong spot so that I could actually read what I was being invited to: Abuela Rosa's 90th Birthday.

I cringed. There was no way I could survive a Manoso family gathering. I don't even know why they'd invited me. I wasn't part of the family. Before I could get much further into my concerns of that, though, my phone chirruped, letting me know I had a text.

It was Joe: Red or White?

I shook my head. I'd assured him about a million times that I had everything under control for dinner tonight. I'd offered to cook, feeling that it was one of the only ways I could adequately express my gratitude to them both for being there for me over the last month without full on blubbering in front of them. Joe clearly didn't have any faith in my cooking skills – not that I could blame him, after the time I'd given him food poisoning from a ham and cheese sandwich – and had been attempting to get me to reconsider all week. I'd finally put my foot down and told him that I was cooking whether he liked it or not, and he shut up about it. Apparently he was still trying to assist.

I typed out a quick reply: Got it covered.

And I did. I had the link to the Youtube tutorial I'd used for my chicken stir fry test run the other night saved. All the ingredients were prepared, measured, chopped, cleaned and ready to throw together. There was even a bottle of white wine chilling in the fridge.

The phone chirruped again: I've got Pino's on speed dial just in case.

I decided to ignore him, knowing that if I replied it would just encourage him to continue and then my confidence – which was tenuous at best – would be completely shot. So I set the phone down on the side table and went upstairs to shower and change before getting stuck into the cooking.

*o*

Dinner went off without a hitch.

Well, there was one slight hitch. The dipping sauce I'd made for the spring rolls I'd prepared ended up tasting horrible. But in the overall scheme of things, I'd call it a success. I'd proven to Joe that I was perfectly capable of making dinner for three people, which had become my main goal after the hard time he'd given me earlier in the week.

I was kitchen, piping frosting onto the cupcakes I'd made for dessert with Carol assisting me while Joe took an emergency phone call from work. We were giggling over smiley face Carol had piped onto her latest cupcake when footsteps sounded in the hall announcing that Joe was off the phone. He paused in the doorway without re-entering.

"Steph," he called, getting my attention. "Your phone is ringing."

My brow furrowed immediately. Who could possibly be calling me? The only people I regularly kept in contact with were my family, the Morelli's and Mary Lou. I'd decided it must be Mary Lou, on my way out to the hall where my phone was buzzing where I'd left it earlier.

"Hello?" I answered without even bothering to glance at the display.

"Hey Steph!" came a perky voice. It was familiar, despite the fact that I hadn't heard I many months. "It's Julie."

Taking a quick, deep breath to steal myself, I summoned up some fake enthusiasm and replied, "Julie! How are you?"

"I'm fine," she assured me. "I was just calling to see if you're coming to Bis Abuela's birthday party. I was talking to Tia Celia and she said she sent you an invitation did you get it?"

Glancing at the pile of mail I'd brought in that afternoon, I cringed anew. I should have known I couldn't just ignore it and hope the whole situation passed without them noticing I hadn't replied or turned up. "Yeah, I got the invitation this afternoon," I informed her, all the while trying to think up a valid excuse to get me out of it.

"So you're going?" she asked.

"I don't know."

I'd barely gotten the words out when a long drawn out, "Pleeeeaaaaasse?" whined directly into my ear.

With a sigh, I told her, "I'll have a look at my schedule and let you know."

She snorted. Always so open with her emotions, and quick to humour. The polar opposite of what her father had been, even when he was alone with me. "Shedule. Good one, Steph."

"I've been pretty busy lately," I informed her firmly. And it was true. Between my regular eight til four job, the mandatory two nights out of the house a week – one for yoga, one for dinner with either my parents or the Morellis – and the upkeep of my home, I rarely found a moment when I was doing absolutely nothing. "When's the party?"

"It's a couple months away," she said, like it was some kind of reassurance, but then her tone shifted completely. "And I was thinking," she started. I didn't like the sound of that. Nothing good ever came from people thinking these days. Especially teenaged girls. "It's on a Friday. And since I'm coming all that way for the party, it might be nice to spend the weekend with you and the guys at… what's it called now? RCM? Stupid name. Anyway, I'd like to catch up with everyone."

It was all I could do to keep the groan that wanted to burble up purely mental. Didn't I say nothing good ever came from thinking? "I'll have to discuss it with Tank," I told her. "I can't make any promises."

Surprisingly, she didn't seem fazed by my lack on solid answer. "Okay," she enthused. "That's cool. Call me back when you know."

"Sure," I agreed, glancing over my shoulder when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Joe was standing there, one eyebrow raised in some kind of question I couldn't quite interpret. "I, um, have company at the moment," I told Julie, stumbling over my words all of a sudden. It's amazing what happened to your tongue when you were aware of people watching you. "So…"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Of course! Sorry. No problem. I'll talk to you later. Don't forget to ask Tank."

"Bye, Julie," I replied and quickly hung up before I started making promises I couldn't keep.

No sooner had I set the phone down on the table once more, than Joe started asking questions. "Who's Julie?"

I let the groan I'd been holding out and ran a hand over my head, flattening the curls that at some point over the course of the evening had started springing up from the ponytail I'd attempted to contain them in. "Ranger's daughter," I explained.

Joe's eyes widened. "Ranger had a daughter?"

I nodded, swallowing the small lump that lodged in my throat when I recognised his correct use of past tense. "She's almost fifteen."

"And what's she inviting you to?" he asked as I passed him, heading back toward the kitchen where his wife had been left alone for several minutes. My burg manners were burning a hole in my stomach to get back to attending to my guests.

"Her great grandmother's birthday party," I explained.

"Who's great grandmother's birthday party?" Carol asked, her head snapping up as I entered. She had about seven cupcakes grouped before her, with varying amounts of icing covering their tops like she was experimenting with something.

"Ranger's daughter's great grandmother," Joe informed her, before I could just brush it off as unimportant. "Which I believe makes her Ranger's grandmother, correct?"

The last part was aimed at me, and actually received a glare from both myself and Carol. God only knows why she was glaring at him. I simply nodded my reply.

"Why aren't you going?" he questioned, taking a seat at the bench across from his wife, but turning to face me.

"I haven't decided if I'm going yet," I informed him firmly. "I only got the invitation today."

Joe shook his head, swiping a bit of frosting off one of the cupcakes Carol was working on and receiving a rap on the knuckles for his efforts. "Don't lie," he said, licking the frosting covered finger. "You don't wanna go. Why not?" Behind him, I saw Carol roll her eyes. "I saw that Carol."

"No you didn't," she responded testily, straightening from her work and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're just assuming you can predict my actions."

"You rolled your eyes," he stated. He returned his focus to me. "She rolled her eyes, didn't she?"

Carol came around the bench to stand beside him. "Of course I rolled my eyes, Joe," she said. "You're asking stupid questions." Two small lines appeared between his eyebrows as he frowned at her. "She doesn't want to go because it's Ranger's family." She glanced over to me as though wanting to confirm she was right.

I nodded. "I don't really belong."

"See?" she emphasised.

"Sounds to me like Julie wants you there," Joe pointed out.

"It's an intimate family gathering," I told him, recalling the words on the card. "I really don't belong."

"Something tells me the Manosos would disagree," he stated coolly. "I mean, they did send you an invitation, after all."

"I'm not part of the family." He was starting to agitate me now, to the point where I needed to move. I wanted to wave my hands around and let my Italian temper out, but Carol's soft voice cut through the air and my temper in one fell swoop.

"Maybe not officially," she said, her tone thoughtful. "But thin about things from their perspective. Their son, and grandson, and brother, and uncle, and cousin, and father died. You are the woman he loved above all else. Why wouldn't they want you there?"

My mouth was moving as soon as she finished speaking, though I wasn't sure what my argument would be. "Because I-."

That's as far as I got before Joe's exasperated words cut me off. "Look at it this way: You were supposed to marry Ranger. If he had lived you would be married by now and you would both be going to the party. Maye they're trying to show you that even though you never got a chance to make your relationship legally binding, you were as good as married in their eyes. I'm sure Ranger wasn't the kind of man to throw his love around so easily. You obviously meant a lot to him. Maybe they're inviting you to ensure that, if nothing else, Ranger's love is there."

I didn't know what to say to that. In fact, I wasn't sure I was capable of speech after such a heartfelt monologue. The stinging behind my eyes told me his words were sincere, and if I wasn't careful, I'd be crying in front of him and his wife. This was not how I'd pictured this evening going when I'd offered to play host. Finally, I sat down at the small table we'd eaten dinner at and stared at the blue food colouring stain I'd created while preparing the frosting. "I can't live up to that kind of pressure," I said quietly, more to myself than them. They thought they'd been making an argument for why I should go, but all of a sudden, I felt like I couldn't go even if I wanted to, because I didn't want to let them down.

Carol moved to sit beside me and laid a single hand on my shoulder. "They're not asking you to," she assured me. "They just want to include you in the family like you were meant to be."

"You should go to the party," Joe added, coming to stand behind us both, a hand on the back of each of our chairs. I hesitated a moment, and the indecision must have been clear on my face, because Joe let out a frustrated growl. "You're going even if I have to drive your there myself."

"Joe!" Carol admonished, taking a breath to tell him off further, but I interrupted her.

"Since when are you in a position to make life choices for me?" I demanded, pushing to my feet and letting my temper flare up once more.

He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "You revoked the right to make your own decisions when you chose to were sensible dresses and pink shoes," he informed me, gesturing to my outfit as if the green maxi dress and yellow ballet flats I wore somehow proved his point.

"Hey!" Carol exclaimed, standing as well so that we were all on the same level. "I'm the one wearing pink shoes," she pointed out.

Joe had the decency to appear bashful as he turned his attention to his wife. "And they look lovely on you, honey. What I meant was that Steph has never really been a dresses and pretty shoes kind of person."

"Is this how you want your daughter treated in the future?" I asked, pulling the attention in the room back to me. I may be annoyed with Joe, but I understood the reason behind his comments and wasn't about to let them get him in trouble with his wife. At least not until they were on their way home. No way I could protect him forever, after all.

"What do you mean the future?" Joe asked with a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Carol and I are the only decision makers in her life right now."

"They don't stay like that, Joe," Carol informed him.

"You should know that by now," I added with a slight smile. I'd been a pain his ass for long enough that he should have realised that he couldn't enforce his will on a woman for long without it backfiring.

Joe lifted his chin, denying the truth we were trying to feed him. "I reject your reality and substitute my own."

"You can't hide forever," I told him, crossing the room to where cupcakes sat forgotten on the bench and smiling. Carol had been creating a large love heart shape with the cupcakes and icing. The ones in the middle were completely cover, but the ones around the edge were only covered enough to make the outline of the shape. I took a cake from the middle and started peeling the paper off.

"Neither can you," Joe assured me, reaching over my shoulder to grab the cupcake with the most icing. "And I'll have you know that if Bailey was as deeply depressed as you are-"

"I'm not depressed," I protested, but he kept talking as if he hadn't heard me.

"I would be thankful to anyone who attempted to help her back to the loving arms of her family."

My mouth was full of cupcake when I corrected him. "Not my family."

"Semantics," he stated with a wave of his cupcake filled hand. "So back to the conversation that I have no remorse for eaves dropping on. What was the bit about your talking to Tank?"

I was ready to kick him out of my house. I really and truly was. "She wanted to stay with me and the guys for the weekend of the party," I sighed.

He made an ahhhh noise like dots were connecting and stars were aligning. "So you're going to call Tank and discuss?" he asked.

"No."

His brow quirked up in challenge. "You're comfortably spinning lies to a fourteen year old girl who's father died less than a year ago and whom obviously idolises you just because you don't want to talk to a man who only has your best interests at heart?"

My reply came more slowly this time, sensing a trap, but unwilling to give in to his pressure. "No?"

Joe nodded knowingly. "So you're going to call Tank."

"No," I stated once more.

"Stephanie," Carol said softly, reminding us both of her presence.

I shook my head, stopping whatever words she was about to say. "I can't deal with Ranger's family and the Merry Men in the same weekend," I told them both. "It's too much."

He shrugged. "So arrange another time for her to come and stay."

Before I could formulate a response, Carol grabbed her husband by the arm, removing the cupcake from his hand and started dragging him toward the door. "I think it's about time we headed home," she announced forcefully. "We've given Steph plenty to think about, now I think we should leave her be before she refuses to see us ever again." Joe tried to protest, but she didn't let him get a word in. "I know you're used to her being angry at you and regularly freezing you out, but I'm not. I like her and I don't want to have to divorce you over the fact that you pushed our friends away. So please, go out and start the car."

Joe blinked twice, panic filling his eyes as he clearly registered the word divorce, before giving a short nod and striding purposefully from my home.

Carol turned to me, worry creasing her expression. "I'm so sorry," she said, stepping forward. "I should have stopped him sooner. You need time to get your head around this without Joe sticking his nose in it. If you want to talk let me know. Doesn't matter what time of day it is." She grabbed me in a quick hug, sent me a smile and then turned to leave. As she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder to me and added. "You should consider going to the party."

*o*

Next chapter involves two Tank scenes I've had in the bank for a while.