I don't own the Stephanie Plum characters; nor do I make any profit, though this story and any original characters are mine. This story is purely for entertainment, so there may be errors. (Especially likely since this has changed quite a bit since jbspencer06 sanity-checked it.)
Chapter 38: Bringing It Home
Stephanie opened the top oven door to baste the nearly cooked Thanksgiving turkey, quickly ducking her face away from the aroma-filled blast of heat. At the far end of the counter, Mrs. Kloughn had finished unpacking her insulated carryall. The green bean and mushroom casserole that seemed to be Kloughn comfort food was next to the Plum-style candied yams and stuffing, all waiting in a disorderly mob to be reheated in the microwave.
Meanwhile, muffled voices pulsed life throughout the house, a football game was on in the livingroom, and music was playing upstairs. Additionally, she heard another sound upstairs that she'd missed all autumn: the determined footsteps of her daughter Angie, home from college for the long holiday weekend.
Closing the oven, Stephanie exhaled slowly with pleasure. She knew it was simplistic but food had always meant love in the Plum household. Where family was concerned, she had never once gone hungry. And though she made a conscious effort to be more verbal and expressive with her own family, holiday meals were still special, like a direct pathway to the heart.
Stephanie topped off her mug of coffee from the family-sized pot that came out like a special guest for larger family dinners. Looking up, her gaze was drawn by the scene from the window above the counter. In the distance, she heard the metal clonk of a city plow's flat scoop hitting the main street a couple blocks away, the muffled burr of a neighbor's snowblower, and the scraping of a shovel from nearby.
Taking a sip, she lost herself temporarily in the view. Since yesterday evening, the outside world had transformed. The imperfections of rocks, shrubs, and yard furniture had become a marshmallow landscape of wind-smoothed pillows. The trees were bowed, powdered sugar confections. It was a Sugarplum Fairy wonderland spun in fresh snowflakes, a whole month before Christmas.
She chuckled briefly; who was she kidding? It was a Plum family holiday, which meant that the sugar was all courtesy of Entenmann's at breakfast. And the wonder was that Thanksgiving dinner was still on track despite having been largely prepared by the Plum family cavalcade this morning between bouts of shoveling, snowball fights, and three trips to the convenience store in her drafty Subaru.
Putting her coffee mug down, Stephanie looked at the wall clock for probably the tenth time this hour. Then, as she pulled her sweater tight against the feeling of winter, Mrs. Kloughn slid behind her. "Don't worry, dear," her gentle voice half whispered in Stephanie's ear. "Your young man will be here soon."
Stephanie almost laughed at the thought of Ranger as her "young man." Ranger, who was sex and danger stalking on muscular legs, and whose unflinching gaze was made even more potent by the dusting of experienced silver in his luxurious dark hair. Yet, as she felt Mrs. Kloughn's hand on her shoulder, Stephanie decided she liked the idea. Her young man, Ranger, coming for a holiday dinner with the whole family.
She reached up and clasped Mrs. Kloughn's hand in hers. Soft and warm, it was a Pillsbury Dough reminder of the woman's fundamental kindness. So like her son Albert, who Stephanie had assumed was weak when she'd first met him. But the Kloughns, especially Albert's mother, had taught her that generosity could be its own form of strength.
Mrs. Kloughn gently pulled Stephanie around to face her. "I remember all the good things Albert told us about your Ranger." The older woman nodded. "And I saw for myself when he was here around Halloween." She paused. "You know, that man's eyes gleamed when your name was mentioned, Stephie. The way I see it, he told you he'd be here today, no matter what," her soft voice asserted. "And I think he's a man who keeps his promises."
"Thanks," she acknowledged the older woman's reassurance. "He was delayed in D.C., but you're right, he prides himself on keeping his promises," she affirmed, both to Mrs. Kloughn and to herself. And he had promised, just a few days ago on the phone. He'd admitted that he still had work to do, and had a few things to handle on Thanksgiving morning itself. So he wouldn't arrive until later.
But, the good news was that enough details were wrapped up and the right people had been apprehended so he could take a short break. She'd even seen some of the arrests on the news, though obviously most of the details were obscured.
She was proud of Ranger. She was confident of him. But still… she shied away from the thought, but he had disappeared from his life for seven years and she hadn't known until he was gone. Stephanie nibbled her lip. "I was just hoping he'd be here by now," Stephanie finally confessed. She felt oddly like she should mulishly stomp one of her feet, a bit like Lisa, under Mrs. Kloughn's ever-watchful gaze.
Squeezing her shoulder, Mrs. Kloughn smiled "You young people, you're so impatient. I remember when I was your age. Goodness, calling long distance cost so much back then. When Saul was away in the Army for over four years, I had to wait for postcards. Do you even remember postcards? Or standing by the door for the postman to deliver the mail?" She asked, and then continued without a pause. "And then one day Saul would show up, all crisp in his uniform, pushing the buzzer downstairs, just like he'd promised."
She paused; the smile on her usually demure face bordered on mischievous. "You know," the older woman leaned in to confide, "I still lived here with my parents." With a coy, sidelong glance, she added, "The pantry isn't here anymore since the last renovation, but that's where we had to hide for our little smooches."
She smiled at Stephanie's astonished gaze. "Don't worry Stephie," she murmured. "We all find the ones who complete us in our own time. And a big strong man like your Ranger…. the way he jumped to do favors for your daughters when he was here. It was just what a man in love would do. So, don't worry, honey. He'll be here."
Stephanie felt a blush creep up her face as Mrs. Kloughn released her. It was no mystery how the unassuming older woman had been successful all those years as a counselor. She was certainly always able to read Stephanie.
She took a deep breath and it finally hit her: old insecurities had been raising their head. She'd been mentally preparing herself for Ranger to not appear, assuming that his comments about having work to finish were an excuse. A first step on the ladder of silently walking out of her life.
Because who says they'll be late because they have work on Thanksgiving?
Seeing the bowls, spoons, and other cooking paraphernalia piled on the counter, Stephanie started filling the sink with sudsy water. As she washed and rinsed a stoneware baking dish, her mind traveled back to the times she'd brought Ranger a casserole of holiday leftovers in the Rangeman control room. Almost always, he'd stay behind to let his staff take holidays off. It was the type of man he was. As he'd joked with her, bad guys didn't take holidays so Rangeman couldn't either.
So, she decided to let her sensible brain be in charge and to assume that Ranger might actually have work today. After all, it was important that he take all the time he needed to wrap up the conspiracy he'd uncovered while chasing his target, Figueroa, the man who'd abducted his own children.
Reaching for a set of mixing spoons, Stephanie's eyes narrowed thinking of Figueroa. A man who would kidnap his own children to… what? Drag them from state to state, with strangers to babysit them in chilly apartments with little more than junk food to eat? All so he'd have family with him while he bought weapons and killed people in cold blood.
She shook her head balefully. But then, she was buoyed by the knowledge that Figueroa would be tried for abducting his sons, among several more ominous changes, all based on Ranger's investigative work. She nodded to herself, recalling Ranger's description of how the man had quickly confessed enough so that the hearing next week on whether to try Ranger for the shooting in Dorchester earlier this month would be, in his words, simply a formality.
His lawyer, who Ranger had employed since his Rangeman days, apparently seconded that opinion. They had Figueroa's assertion that his colleague Krc, with his identifying scar, was the shooter and that Ranger wasn't involved. And, the Boston PD had a witness who'd seen someone matching Krc near the scene of the shooting, driving the car in which they'd found Ranger. After Figueroa had been arrested, they'd even managed to find a witness in Allston who'd seen Ranger being knocked unconscious, and who'd heard one of the men say that they were going to drop him in a car so the cops would find him there.
Well, Stephanie had cleared her schedule, anyway, so she could attend the hearing with Ranger. Stephanie smiled righteously as she absent-mindedly scrubbed the smaller of two saucepans. Of course Ranger was innocent. The frame job and subsequent arrest had always been a setup to keep Ranger from being able to pursue Figueroa and his even more dangerous cohorts.
But, sobering thought, Stephanie didn't know what she would've done if Ranger hadn't been able to track down the conspirators. If he'd had to appear in court and possibly be sentenced for a crime he didn't commit. Or, even more likely, if he'd needed to go on the run to avoid the whole trial and sentencing process. Having just found him, what if she'd lost him again?
She rinsed the second saucepan, the last of the dirty dishes, and turned off the water. Standing in place, she contemplated the ice that glazed a delicate white border around the edges of the window above the sink. With her finger, she followed the outline along the lower edge, feeling the frosty, dry shavings of ice soften under her finger.
She imagined that it was a window in a cabin, hidden in the crisp, winter woods of an untracked wilderness. It was a wintery hideout she'd first started picturing years ago, when she'd finally realized what he'd meant by "being in the wind." Logs and stone, a wood stove for heat, an old-fashioned shortwave radio like the one her grandfather Mazur had for listening to Hungarian news and music programs, shelves of canned food, and some vaguely imagined oil or solar generator for lights and cooking.
Would she have followed Ranger to that cabin, if he hadn't been able to find the evidence needed to overturn his arrest? Would she have gone on the run, also, surviving on venison and berries, clothed in second-hand flannel? Together, their resilience and passion overcoming the cold?
The steady sound from overhead and the bursts of laughter from the living room made her very glad she wouldn't need to face that situation any time soon. Because, while romantically she could picture herself in that isolated cabin of her imagination— the love shack on the run— she would never willingly leave her daughters. They were her life now; they were her family. The days of "have hamster, will travel" were over.
And she had hope. Ranger's comments over the past few weeks hinted that he also was ready to leave behind a life that might lead to that lonely cabin in the woods. In more than one conversation he'd loosely outlined a plan to start a private investigative business with his service area including Boston. Being Stephanie Plum, of course she'd encouraged that plan.
Reaching out for the dishtowel, she chuckled slightly. Apparently her friend Gerry, who Ranger had successfully hired a few weeks ago when he was in Boston, had the same hope. In fact, Gerry had become Stephanie's new phone buddy. He was like co-chairman of Boston's chapter of the Ranger fan club. Along with Mary Alice.
Along with Stephanie.
Putting the dried pans away, she reflected that Ranger probably wasn't even aware of all the fan clubs that had followed him over his lifetime. It showed in the loyalty of his men, the women who walked into walls wherever he went, Albert Kloughn half in love with him… It had reached back at least to the knot of girls cheering him in the DVD Ranger had sent last week, as promised, with highlights from a high-school soccer championship game.
And it was easy to see why that knot of girls had been cheering. Mary Alice had squealed when she spotted Ranger on the field in the game footage, his electric smile lighting up his slim, teenaged face as he eluded two opposing players and scored a goal against all odds. Stephanie had found herself clutching her hands to her heart, smiling with tears in her eyes as she watched the joy evident on Ranger's youthful face.
As she'd watched his young, athletic self clearly reveling in motion, delighting in the game, she wished with her heart that she'd been in the stands at the moment when his team came together at the end, high-fiving and standing arm-in-arm as comrades together. Ranger's brash, delighted smile captured in that moment was a thing of beauty; the claim of a boy ready to take the power of being a man.
But then, suddenly Stephanie had found herself irrationally jealous of the girls in the stands who'd known him then. With a green eyed, Joyce Bernhardt level of ire.
So thank heavens for Mary Lou, who'd immediately understood. Undaunted by the late hour of the call, her bestie had persuaded Stephanie that her heated emotions were basically proof that she was human, female, and had a pulse. And that, since her heart had obviously chosen Ranger as hers, she'd better make sure that her words did sometime soon, as well.
Stephanie thought she'd been doing exactly that, but Mary Lou said it was important to repeat the message. Because, as she'd reminded on the phone, women were mysterious by nature and men were easily confused.
She snorted. Ranger was never confused. He was simply all-the-way male.
She could see that Mrs. Kloughn had the last reheating tasks well in hand. So, Stephanie wandered out to the dining room to see if everything was ready for dinner. Mostly it was a distraction: Angie and Mary Alice had set the table over an hour ago, and she'd inspected it at least twice already. The flowery Plum china was arranged in place settings, with the occasional chips and worn edges to testify to years of family use. The silverware and glasses from Stephanie's childhood were set out in a warm, inviting spread.
A momentary chill drifted through the room and Stephanie stopped, her imagination serving up a ghostly image of her mother, sister, and grandmother sitting at the table. Her mother inspecting the silver for tarnish and commenting on the bent tines on some of the forks. Her sister Valerie primping her hair while enthusing about Albert, her Cuddle Umpkins. And finally, Grandma Mazur checking the somewhat worse-for-wear Waterford holiday glasses to see if her daughter Helen had added vodka to the orange juice yet.
Of course, at this moment it was just Mrs. Kloughn opening the kitchen's back door to set the recycling outside. Nevertheless, Stephanie breathed a greeting to her spectral family members as she paused, seeing Thanksgivings of her youth superimposed on this room. She wondered if Grandma Mazur had seen her forebears present during holidays, sensing family stretching back generation after generation.
Knowing her grandmother, it was definitely possible.
A burst of sound from upstairs distracted Stephanie from her thoughts. Music combined with Lisa's voice, Mary Alice's laughter, and Angie's answering objections. Footsteps and more shouts sounded from above. Then, wondering where the rest of her family was, Stephanie drifted to the door to the living room. Where she found Saul Kloughn engrossed in the football game, his cane leaning in the crook of the sofa. Sarah was seated with him, asking questions.
Stephanie giggled under her breath. Her youngest daughter was infinitely curious. Football, monster trucks, competitive cup stacking… it didn't seem to matter. Happily, Mr. Kloughn was more patient with Sarah's bottomless well of curiosity than Stephanie's father had been with her own. Possibly Sarah wouldn't spend as much of her childhood making stuff up, as a result. Still smiling, Stephanie concluded that her girl would just be creative in her own, unique way.
As she turned back to the kitchen, she heard clattering from downstairs— the front door opening, boots stomping off snow in the first floor entry foyer. She paused, but then heard multiple voices echoing up the stairwell. Probably another of Mrs. Arshad's sons arriving with his family. But then, her brow wrinkled as she heard footsteps starting up the stairwell.
As Stephanie paused at the sudden tingle she felt running down her spine, Sarah bounded up from the sofa and headed to the foyer. Just as the first knock sounded against the wood, Sarah opened the door. "Mom," she called out in a breathy voice. "Look who's here."
And then, gazing back from the dining room, all Stephanie could see was the man in her entryway. Solid, handsome, graceful, with the hint of a five o'clock shadow along his jaw that reflected light flecks of silver in the overhead light. But then, as he turned toward her, he was the same virile man she'd seen so many years ago in a Trenton diner. His gaze was knowing and assured, his smile was slow and full, like a moment of joy being discovered as she stood there.
"Rick," she exhaled, stepping forward. "You made it." She felt her own smile bloom.
"Wouldn't miss this for anything, Babe," he replied in his low voice as he removed his gloves and put them in his pockets. He started to turn back toward the door but then Sarah inserted her small hand into his. Looking obliquely at Stephanie's daughter, his lips tilted in in a quizzical smile. "Well, hello," he said softly, his momentum arrested by the small, tousle-haired figure in front of him.
"Hi," Sarah replied with a knowing nod. "See, I was right." She glanced over at Stephanie, as though confirming a long-standing point, then back to Ranger. "I knew Saint Martin would bring you back home." She stepped back, which Ranger apparently took as a hint to remove her medallion and return it. He reached for the chain at the back of his neck and started to pull it up from under his sweater.
At which point Sarah reached up to tug his coat. "Oh, not yet," she said quietly, her face earnest. "Saint Martin wants to stay with you for a while longer." Then, with an enigmatic smile still on her small, heart shaped face, her daughter pulled on Ranger's coat again, as though guiding him closer for a secret. "Grandpa Kloughn says there's no magic unless God makes it happen, but people have to be ready to see it."
Stephanie enjoyed the vague, perplexed look on Ranger's face as Sarah released his coat and turned back toward her mother. Her wide, hazel eyes gleamed knowingly, leaving Stephanie to wonder what her youngest girl was thinking.
Meanwhile, having heard his name, Mr. Kloughn looked over, his hand hovering over his cane. "Ah, you must be Ranger," he said. "I'm Saul Kloughn. It's good to finally meet you."
"Good to meet you too, sir," Ranger nodded.
As Ranger started forward, Saul waved his free hand. "Ah, stay put. Get comfortable. Take off your coat for God's sake. I still have a brace on my knee, so I'm not going anywhere. We can shake hands whenever you come sit down to watch the game." He barked a quick laugh. "Which you have to do, since you've just doubled the male representation at today's event. Not even Frank Plum managed to make it this year."
Stephanie rolled her eyes as she registered Ranger's low chuckle. And she exhaled quietly, glad that Mr. Kloughn hadn't named any of the other men who'd been here for holidays in the past, whether coworkers, her neighbor Darius, or her former boyfriend Brian.
She was about to explain, yet again, why it was actually a positive development that her father was in Trenton with his family for the holiday this year along with his new honey, Ellie Cranshaw. Then, in a moment that was pure "home with the Plums," a Nerf football sailed down the stairwell, followed by Mary Alice. As the football bounced off the back of the sofa and into a bowl of chips, Mary Alice exclaimed, "Whoa, Ranger you made it."
She stopped on the final stairstep, smiling. "Welcome back," she said, raising her arms in something between an air hug and a moment of victory. She completely ignored the blue Nerf ball that her Grandfather Kloughn lobbed back toward her with an amused look as he dusted chips off the sofa.
Lisa clomped down the stairs after Mary Alice and, as she reached down to snare the blue foam football, the smaller girl was briefly ensnared in her sister's arms. "Mister Ranger, Mister Ranger," Lisa enthused, wriggling free from Mary Alice's grasp. Reminding Stephanie slightly of the starfish in SpongeBob, with arms outstretched in her green and pink velvet smock, Nerf football in hand, Lisa ran in stocking feet until she bounced into Ranger's legs. Stephanie tried to hold back her laughter at his newly befuddled expression when Lisa enveloped his middle in an enthusiastic hug. "Mister Ranger, you're here."
"Oh my God. Really?" A low, feminine voice interrupted with amusement from the landing behind him. "Mister Ranger? Do you live in, like, Jellystone Park?" As she spoke, a tall girl moved into the doorway, lithe and stylish in her camel coat and matching knit hat. "I'll tell you right now that I totally refuse to be any Yogi Bear characters."
Even if she'd never met her before, Stephanie would know she was looking at Ranger's daughter. She had the same proud stance, dark hair, and fierce eyes. The assurance in her glance was patented Ranger, yet she was still young. It was clear that she knew how to be an outsider; her sophisticated toughness was not enough to fully disguise her wariness.
With an almost courtly pivot, Ranger extricated himself from Lisa's grasp, turned, and lifted his daughter's still-gloved hand. As he gently led his daughter to stand beside him, he said, "Stephanie, I know it's been a while. So I'm pleased to reintroduce you to Julie, my daughter. At the last minute, she was able to get away from college to join me for the weekend."
"Julie," Stephanie blinked quickly as she felt emotion welling behind her eyes. "It's been so long, but I've never forgotten you." While speaking, she had walked toward the watchful girl. As she reached Ranger, she lightly bapped his arm. "But your father doesn't realize that you might not remember me." She smiled as Ranger shrugged and then released Julie's hand gracefully.
"Yeah, I remember," Julie answered, her voice breathy, as though the brave, frightened little girl who'd first met Stephanie a decade ago was momentarily hovering just under her skin. "I kinda remember everyone I met back then." She said calmly, her face angled downward though her eyes remained on Stephanie.
"Oh sweetie," Stephanie said as moved closer, yet again, and opened her arms. "Well, think of this as a new beginning. Welcome. I'm so glad to see you. Having you here with your father makes this the perfect holiday."
Julie swallowed. "Um, thanks for inviting us. It's good to be here." She darted a glance at her father, who now had an awkward armful of Mary Alice, elbows and all. Which was all that was needed, apparently, for Julie to reach toward Stephanie. Her hug was quick, a bit stiff, but Stephanie felt the squeeze in Julie's arms that made it real.
Backing up, her gloved hands lacing together, Julie looked down. "Ranger, I mean... my father," she began haltingly, "well he told me he spent some time here recently. That you'd invited us for Thanksgiving."
"He did, and we absolutely did invite you," Stephanie confirmed. "I think I reminded your father every time we spoke on the phone, which he's smartly assured me was nothing like being nagged." She noticed a twitch of humor in Julie's lips, so she continued. "And I know that Mary Alice, there, had her own separate campaign going on, probably with emails and illustrations showing the benefits of inviting you for the holidays."
She touched Julie's still clasped hands, cradling her grasp loosely over the smooth cashmere of Julie's tense fingers. "The point being that we are delighted that you're here, and that can spend Thanksgiving with our family."
"Thanks," Julie replied with a shy smile. "I didn't quite know what to expect, but it's nice to be here."
Stephanie pulled her hand back, surreptitiously wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, realizing that her family had mobbed Ranger and Julie in the doorway, she reached out and cleared space on the coat hooks. "Let me take your coat so you can come in, meet everyone else, and make yourself at home." As Julie began unbuttoning her coat, Stephanie heard an additional set of footsteps running down the stairs.
"Hey M.A.," Angie's voice preceded her, calling out to Mary Alice by her initials. "If you're going to make me play catch, you need to bring back the puffy blue football and, like, someone else to throw it to." Then, as she planted at the foot of the stairs with her arms on her hips, she stopped. "Oh," she exclaimed. "You were right. Ranger got here in time for dinner."
"I'm always right," Mary Alice said with mock asperity as she looked back at her sister.
"Yeah," Angie tossed her head. "Except, like, all the times when you're not." Then, straightening into a vision of her mother Valerie, Angie turned her attention to Ranger. Walking over with her hand outstretched, she said, "Hi, I'm Angie. We met you in Trenton. Except we were more fun-sized then, like Lisa." She tilted her head at her younger sister, who was still hovering next to Ranger.
"I remember you, Angie," he answered, taking her hand in his. "It's a pleasure. Though you may not have met my daughter Julie," he nodded toward his slim, dark-haired progeny who was in the midst of tucking her hat and gloves into her coat pocket.
Mary Alice, standing on the other side of Ranger, shook her head, looking skyward. Turning impishly toward Julie, she grinned. "Hi, welcome to Casa Plum, where the good times never end. I'm Mary Alice, the cool sister." She looked around for Stephanie. "Hey Mom, are Ranger and Julie staying for the holiday? Can Julie crash upstairs with us?"
"We'll see, sweetie," Stephanie answered, hoping that a Mañoso family sleepover was indeed in the plans for the weekend. While her mind sparked at the possibilities, having both Ranger and Julie here for an extended weekend, she rested her hand on Mary Alice's shoulder. "For now, why don't we let Julie and Ranger finish taking off their coats and come inside?"
"That was the practical 'mom' voice," Mary Alice leaned toward Julie. "We'd better listen," she glanced sideways at Stephanie with overly innocent eyes.
"Oh yeah, like you always do," Angie snorted with a dramatic hair flip as she approached. "And by the way, I'm Angie the actual cool sister. You've already met my understudy, here." She softened her words with a wink as she wound her arm around Mary Alice's waist. "Next in line," she reached out her other arm, "is Lisa, proud carrier of the Nerf football for Team Plum."
She gestured toward the sofa. "Over there is Sarah, who's often the only one who actually knows what's going on. And that's Grandpa Kloughn, who'll pay us all a lot more attention during halftime, though that's honestly the only part of football on TV that's worth watching."
Suppressing a chuckle, Stephanie backed away from the action in the doorway, leaving her daughters to help Julie with her coat and boots. Because, over her shoulder, all she could feel was Ranger like effervescence fizzing along her soul.
Drawn without thought, she launched into Ranger's open arms, inhaling him. Still no Bvlgari; instead his scent had migrated to something between citrus and sandalwood, with the essence of Ranger at its base. It was heavenly and she took another sniff while her face was still nestled against his chest. "I'm so very glad you're here," she mumbled into his half-opened parka. "I'd let you remove your coat, but I'd have to let you go."
"So that's a no," Ranger rumbled, his arms tightening around her.
"More like a later," she replied. "I was starting to worry that you weren't going to come."
He rocked her slightly in his arms. "I keep my promises, Steph. You know that."
"Yeah I do," she smiled, leaning back slightly to meet his gaze. "Thanks for bringing Julie, too. Can she stay all weekend?"
"Through Sunday morning," he answered quietly, releasing one hand to brush it along the hair by Stephanie's ear. "Her flight is mid-day, since school starts back up on Monday." He tilted his head, seeming to contemplate a lock of hair that he'd started twirling around his finger. "I can stay through next weekend, though, if you'll have me, before I need to head back to D.C."
"Yes please," Stephanie answered with what she suspected was a goofy grin. But then Ranger's answering smile could've lit the room around her. Perhaps it could even be seen it from outer space, like a beacon broadcasting Stephanie's delight. With a make-believe sigh, she released her arms. "So if you're going to stay that long, probably I should let you take off your coat."
"Don't want to be hasty, but it seems sensible," he answered with a chuckle. He stepped to the coat hooks by the door, now accessible since Stephanie's daughters had led Julie into the livingroom. "After dinner, though, I'll need to go back outside to grab our luggage from my truck."
"What, you were making sure you were welcome to stay, first?" Stephanie put her hands on her hips. "You and your utility belt used to break into my apartment like a ninja whenever you wanted. Now you leave your luggage outside until you get a formal invitation?" Had she hallucinated those discussions of him coming to stay over the long weekend?
"Old habits, Babe," He looked over with a wry flex of his eyebrow. "And you'll recall that I typically left my stuff in my truck, outside in your parking lot, even back then. Anyhow, I thought you'd be impressed that I actually have luggage, not just my tactical rucksack." He shrugged. "Julie is trying to teach me how normal people visit family and friends."
Stephanie laughed. "Let me know how that works out. In the meantime," she added as she reached around Ranger for her parka, "let's go get your luggage."
Ranger tipped his head as he refastened his coat. "Julie told me that you'd say that." He shrugged. "I guess I owe her five dollars."
Tugging on the zipper of her first boot, Stephanie slanted her gaze up to Ranger. "Just consider it a supplement to Julie's training on how normal people visit. You bring in your luggage right away, claiming your territory. Then you eat enough that you don't feel like doing anything else, like dodging outside for extended periods while everyone else is hanging out."
Ranger chuckled quietly as he slipped his hand under Stephanie's elbow, supporting her as she stood back up, stomping her boots to fully seat her feet while she reached for her keys. Amused, Stephanie debated reassuring Ranger that it had been a couple of years since she'd fallen headlong through the doorway in her haste to pull together her outdoor clothing, but decided to save that tidbit for a different moment.
As they reached the downstairs landing, she turned to Ranger. "You know, if you do need to get away from the hubbub sometimes, it's fine to just wander off." As they stepped out into the darkening opal light of the wintery late afternoon, she elaborated. "I mean, you can go outside if you want to clear your sinuses in the cold, like right now, or even back to one of our rooms and close the door for a while. You don't have to make up luggage emergencies. I'll understand. After all, I grew up in Plum family pandemonium, but even I sometimes need a time out."
Ranger reached out and pulled her shoulders in a loose hug. "Not a problem, Steph. I stayed at your place for a whole week, not so long ago, remember?"
"I know, but we're all home together for a few days, without breaks for work or school, so it could be a bit more… mmm... intense."
She nudged him with her elbow. "Besides, now you'll know what's going on if I disappear for a half hour after feigning a phone call or describing something vague and perplexing that I really have to do right now." As she spoke, she rubbed her hands together, and then stuffed them in her pockets. Next time she vowed to check that her gloves were in her pockets before she ventured out of the house.
She felt Ranger's quiet laughter through their coats. Looking around, she didn't see Ranger's truck. But then she remembered that he tended to park a block or so away. Something to work on. So, she followed him down to the sidewalk. The squeaky crunch of their boots marked patches of unshoveled snow as they walked down the sidewalk.
Cold and quiet wreathed them. Warm light beckoned from doorways along the street. Finally, as they approached the end of her street with no signs of Ranger's vehicle, she looked sideways at Ranger. "Sheesh, where did you leave your truck? Did you stash it in boat house in the park?"
She saw his exhale, an amused, crystalline puff in the chill air. "It's just a block over. Street parking."
"Well, I guess I'm glad you didn't make Julie carry her luggage all this way. But Rick, just so you know, you can park in my driveway. That's what we use it for. You know: cars, parking."
As she squinted at him, he shrugged, "Old habits Babe, remember?"
They turned the corner and continued walking along the partly shoveled walkway. A pearly, pink glow hovered along the brightness rimming the western horizon as the sky tipped toward evening darkness. Stephanie mumbled, "You better really have luggage and not rucksacks. I'm starting to think this is like one of those marches you used to try to con me into doing, back when you first met me."
In the dimming light, she saw a familiar, speculative look on his face. "Oh no, mister," she said, reaching over to poke his arm. "Tonight we're making a new habit and driving back to the house. And parking there. At least to unload your luggage."
She heard him chuckle. Then, after an extended pause while Stephanie assumed Ranger was contemplating the intricate pros and cons of her cunning new plan, he nodded. "Good idea," he said, his lips relaxing into a smile. He reached out to lead her down a short alleyway, where a dark, hulking truck was parked along the street, surrounded by smaller, snow-mounded cars.
It looked, for all the world, like the picture Mary Lou had sent her of the big mountain dog that her husband Lenny had rescued, as it sat hunched hopefully between their two little white terriers. Stephanie started to giggle.
"Yeah, okay," Ranger's voice echoed her humor. "It seemed like better camouflage at the time. But, you can see why I'm concerned that my truck would stand out if I parked at your house."
"Rick," she sighed as he opened the passenger door. "First, I bet these aren't your real license plates, so nobody would guess it's you anyway." She glanced sideways at Ranger, whose emphatically noncommittal expression confirmed her suspicion. Sliding in the seat, she added, "Second, you saw my street. Half the houses have panel trucks or big SUVs parked in the driveway, or on the curb. The only way your truck will stand out is that it's dent free."
She snorted. "Drive a few more times on the Jamaica Way and we can take care of that problem for you." She glanced again at Ranger, who had the raised-eyebrow expression that she imagined was his equivalent of genteel horror. She chuckled quietly as he closed her door, walked around, and then entered the driver's side. Taking pity, she reached out her hand and lightly touched his wrist as he reached for the ignition.
"Seriously though," she said, turning to face him. "My home is your home. I want you to be comfortable there. As for me, I know you take a lot of precautions. And you've told me that you and the Homeland guys have detained the people who were involved in that conspiracy you've been wrapping up."
She leaned closer and raised her hand to his face, unconsciously brushing back some hair from along his temple. "I feel safe where you are, regardless of where you park your car." Lightening the moment, she added, "Or wherever you 'pahk ya cah,' as they say around here.
Ranger laughed gently, raising his gloved hand to her still chilly fingers. Moving his keys out of the way in some quick, dexterous move that Stephanie couldn't follow, he caught her hand and brought it to his lips for a brief, gentle kiss. It was like a cloud of snowflake-sized fairies brushing ice and fire in tiny strokes along her skin and into her bones.
With a smile that fairly gleamed in the light of the sole streetlight above them, he murmured, "Next time we go shopping, I'll buy you a pair of warm gloves." Then, releasing her hand, he started the ignition. "So, let's go back home, park nearby the way normal people do, and wrangle Julie's and my luggage inside."
Stephanie felt her breath catch. Already feeling giddy from his soft, warm kiss along the back of her hand, she realized that he'd said they were going back home. To her house. Where she wanted him to be.
At the moment, Stephanie suspected that the light of her of her expression rivaled even the most electric of Ranger's smiles.
To be continued...