I am sorry that this update took so long to finish. Hopefully this supersized chapter will make up for the posting lapse. I do plan on continuing this story until it's marked complete. All familiar characters and scenes belong to Janet, the 'gifts' I saw online, and the inevitable mistakes are solely mine.
Chapter 53
Ranger's POV
"We're back, Guys. You've got to see this!" Steph hurried up to say.
She, Matty, and Pup-Pup, had rushed ahead of me into the control room and she put our son down next to our dog.
"What's going on?" Vince asked, as Tank, Bobby, Ram, Woody, and Ramon, wandered over.
"Mary Lou called while we were walking Pup-Pup ..."
"She's called everyday since the shooting, Steph," Brown butted in, "that's not much of a story."
"It'd be a better one if you'd let me tell it and provide you with a demonstration."
He gestured for her to continue, which she did only after an eyeroll.
"When Mare was here that day, after I told her the news about what happened at the zoo, she was trying to distract us both, so she took my phone and started screwing with it and made 'Trouble' my ringtone for her. When she called today, the song started and out of the blue my little man stopped holding onto our hands just so he could start dancing in the middle of the sidewalk to it. See?"
She used her phone to bring up the song. And like she told the men, Matthew's arms went up above his head, his knees bent, his diapered-butt stuck out, and he started bouncing to the beat. In my opinion, he showed more rhythm than Brown and Santos combined.
"Oh God," Steph said, "I seriously can't take it. He's not killing me with kindness ... he's doing it with unadulterated cuteness."
"Maybe you should focus more on the fact that he chose to dance to a song about being 'trouble', rather than on his actual dance moves," I suggested.
"Uh-uh, you are not making me worry over something this adorable. I'm saving all of those nerves for when he's a teenager and decides he hates us."
"M.J. will never hate you, Steph. You two are the kind of parents kids dream about," Ram told us.
"We're trying," was my response.
"Just keep it up," Tank advised, "and you and he will be fine."
Matty was still living in the moment ... squatting, rising, and shimmying, to the music until the song died away and he was given a round of applause, which he of course joined in on. He clapped as he scanned the control room with a puzzled look on his little face like something clap-worthy should've appeared by now. He didn't realize that he's the worthy one who we were all appreciating.
"You thank them for clapping like this, Matty," Steph told him, giving the room an exaggerated bow, which he did an outstanding job on imitating.
"I don't know who is more of a 'wiggle-butt', your kid or your dog," Vince told us.
"They are both enthusiastic," was Steph's take on it.
"They are that," I said, which earned me a lick from the dog and a laugh from my son, as I put one knee down on the floor so I'd be on their level.
Stephanie had been sticking close to the building ever since we heard about the park shooting that she, Matty, and the Stankovics, could have been victims of. So telling her about the text I'd received from Gene during our walk, isn't what I feel comfortable doing when she's clearly having a good time. I decided to wait until after she took Matty upstairs for a nap. Coming dangerously close to losing her and our baby, had my protective instincts out in full force.
"Ella made chocolate chip cookies for someone," Lester announced, entering the control room and ruining Ella's surprise.
Steph looked at Matty, who was using my knees to climb up to get himself onto my shoulders. He's young, but he already knows the importance of obtaining the power seat. He learned that from his mother who continues to take the seat behind my desk if I'm not already in it. Sometimes she steals it even when I am in it. My chair, Stephanie in a skirt, and a sleeping son, can lead to all kinds of office activities that have nothing to do with paperwork beyond ignoring it or crinkling it under our bodies.
"Your Grandmella loves spoiling you, doesn't she?" My wife asked our baby, who was still mainly focused on climbing his Dada-Tree.
A goal comes before a reward to him.
"Up, Dada. I sees big high gan."
As commanded, I stood up, holding onto his legs right above his mini-Bates boots so he wouldn't fall off my shoulders. Not that he was going anywhere with his two small hands holding onto my ears with a grip that rivaled mine when I'm trying not to choke the shit out of someone, or when Steph has a particularly cheesy bag of Doritos and is being urged by one of the men to share. Her snack-grip tightens even more whenever Lula is in her vicinity.
"M.J. isn't the cookie target," Lester said, opening his fucking mouth again. "She makes them for The Boss. Ella noticed that they're the only type of cookie she makes that he'll take one or two of."
Steph's eyes flew to me. "Really? Why chocolate chip?"
I held her gaze and answered her question with one of my own. "Why do you think?"
I could see every detail of the 'deal'-consummation play across her face. "Oh ..."
"Yeah," Santos added, "it must've been something good to turn your Daddy into a cookie-lover, right M.J.?"
"I wuv ookies," Matthew said. "I do much lots."
He showed even more love for them when Ella appeared and handed him a small cookie for a snack. I took one from the plate and when I bit into it, I could still taste Stephanie mixed with the chocolate, just how I remember her the night she came back from threatening Abruzzi. I'd had one of the frozen cookies that she'd actually cooked that night ... and then I had her. Whenever I had stupidly tried to respect her boundaries, I'd ask Ella to treat the men just so I'd be able to relive the moment my world and purpose shifted completely.
"I love them, too, Matty," my wife said, not looking away from me. "They are hands down the best tasting cookie."
"Ummm ... there's a baby present," Santos chimed in, after a tense moment or three. "You two may want to dial back the stare a little."
"Matty's used to it," Steph answered. "If he complains, he gets both love-stares turned on him, so he wins either way."
I can't deny it. I've spent years hiding or suppressing my emotions, and now I purposely don't withhold any of the affection I have for my wife and my children. I tipped my head back and glanced up into the blue eyes that have me loving Stephanie even more every time I look into the eyes of a similar color and adoration level.
"What does Mama always get after we come back from a walk?" I asked him, watching the last bite of his cookie disappear.
"Mama wuvs her cobbey," he answered.
"Just like my Matty 'wuvs' his snacks," she said. "I could go for a cup of coffee. I can break in the mug Lula gave me yesterday after I'd stopped at the office to say a quick 'hi' when I'd been out picking up the birthday cake I'd ordered at Tasty Pastry for Junior."
"She bought you something?" I asked, not believing it.
"More than likely, it was a regift or something she 'bought' from some guy's trunk on the way to work one day. Either way, it's still something that holds coffee. It's in my desk."
Matty and I followed her to her office, making me have to bend at the waist to get he and I through the doorway. I had every intention of getting her a cup of coffee and then leaving her momentarily to get all the info I need from my men. But, once again, she shot a hole in my plans. She pulled out a coffee mug that said "I Am The Human Equivalent Of A Typo."
Without her being able to stop Matty and I, we - I - took it from her and immediately dropped it into the trash can by her desk.
"Hey! Why do you keep throwing away brand new things?" She asked me.
"You know why the cupcake Christmas ornament had to go," I told her.
"Okay, I can understand that one, but what's the deal with the mug? It didn't do anything to you."
"There is no part of you that is a mistake, Stephanie. And I don't appreciate your 'friend' hinting that you are one. Your existence isn't an error."
"I'm pretty sure Lula wasn't reading into it. It's just a joke."
"It's not a funny one. What starts as a 'just kidding' can quickly turn into a dig that burrows into your brain and starts you believing it. Just think about Morelli's behavior - and your mother's while you're at it - before you tell me that Lula had only your sense of humor in mind. His child and teen actions were a predictor of how he'd later belittle, insult, and disrespect, you until you started listening to him and believing all the garbage he was spewing."
"Crap."
"Whap," Matty was quick to repeat.
"You said it kid. Mama made a boo-boo," she said, catching his hand and kissing what she calls the 'pudge patch' on the back of it.
He didn't see a physical 'boo-boo' on her so our son wasn't sure what to kiss to make it better. To cover all possibilities, he blew her a 'fix everything' kiss from his current perch.
"You know," Steph said to me, "you're the only person I've ever lived with, related or not, that I never once formulated a plan on how I'd get myself away from."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yep, the biggest one. I'm used to the turkey farmer approach to living. You've given me a new cohabitation experience."
I kissed Matty's fingers as he tapped my face to get my attention. I don't want to ignore him, but I also don't want to miss an opportunity to get more insight into how my wife feels or thinks.
"Let's take this conversation to the kitchen," I suggested.
She shrugged, but didn't argue. She just walked ahead of us, squeezing Vince's shoulder in a sympathetic gesture on her way past the monitoring station. Once in the kitchen, I leaned down with Matthew and grabbed a small milk carton from the fridge for him, while Steph automatically cut up an apple in case Matty was hungry for more than just a cookie. She claims that I'm the diet monitor, but she's just as aware of what he eats and when, wanting him to be healthy but never hungry.
I grabbed the plate with the hand not securing our baby and put it down on the table Tank says is the one reserved for the Manosos. I lifted Matty up off my shoulders and placed him in his 'special' chair before sitting down, indicating Steph should do the same across from me after she poured us each some coffee.
"Alright ... continue that thought," I gently ordered.
Before she did, Matty added what he'd learned recently to the conversation. "Manzana," he said, in a perfect Spanish accent that would have his Great Grandmother Rosa beaming.
He skillfully stabbed a piece of apple with a baby fork and he stuck it in the middle of the smile he was giving his Mama.
"You're a pretty smart guy," she told him. "I don't know if knowing a few words in Spanish makes you bilingual, but in case it does ... apples are called 'Pommes' in French. I learned that from Pierre."
"P-beawr," our son said around another bite.
"Shhh," Steph whispered. "Uncle Tank likes being GodUncleTank, he doesn't much care for the P-word."
"Pee-Pee ... Pup-Pup ... Punkin ... Pop orn ... Popfickle ..."
"You definitely have that letter of the alphabet covered," I told him with a smile, as he tipped his head to the side while staring at me as he chewed. Bobby should take lessons from him on how to think and chew, instead of chew and talk. "What about B?"
Our son gave it some serious thought as he stabbed another piece of his apple with an aim I'm proud of. "Baff, bobble, ball, birdie, bye-bye, Babman ..."
"High-five me, Little Man," his Mama said, holding up her hand for him to tap with his own. "Batman rules!"
"Babe."
"Baaaby," Matty said, feeding my Babe a piece of apple.
"Delicious," she said, taking not only the fruit, but 'nibbling' the fingers holding the fork, continuing up his arm until he rewarded her with a belly-laugh.
"Mama be werry funny."
"That's exactly why we love Mama, isn't it?" I asked him.
"We wuvs Mama much big," he said, puckering up.
She met his kiss, and the expression on her face is one I will remember for the rest of my life. She couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh, cry, or both, which brought me back to my original question.
"What about turkeys?" I asked.
"Obble ... obble," the smallest member of our core team answered for her.
He got a laugh from both parents, but I wasn't letting Steph off the hook. "How do turkey farmers figure into your thinking?" I asked, once I finished chewing what our son shared with me.
I think Steph has turned him into a snack dispenser. Or maybe it's just she's already taught him that if you love someone, you should take the best care of them. Knowing my wife, she'd spin that and say I'm the one who taught her that.
"My parents," she began, "could be compared to turkey farmers, or I guess any other factory farmed food group. I had a place to live, plenty of food to eat, the essentials like clothes and vaccinations were provided for Val and I, we made every required medical and dental check-up, and they made sure the door was locked behind us at a set time every night, but that's where the 'parenting' ended. As long as we weren't physically ill, and there was someone lined up to take us off their hands when we reached a certain age, they saw/and still see that as a job well done. Thank you," she said to Matty, when he reached across the table to give her the required 'good job' pat on the back that she's made a daily occurrence now that he's able to help 'clean up' his toys and his room.
"Mmmmm, mmmmuuummm," was his 'you're welcome' reply since his mouth is full again.
She stretched her arm out and ran her finger down his nose, giving the tip of it an affectionate tap. "Just when I think you can't get any sweeter ... POW ... you hit me with another round of it."
"Go on?" I urged.
"I love him loads, too."
"Stephanie ... "
"Sorry, I misunderstood what you meant," she said, not fooling me at all. "I thought you wanted to hear how much I love our Little Bossman."
"I do, but I want to hear the rest of your comparison first."
"Okay dokey, Pokey," she told me.
"Oh. Kay. Doe. Kay. Poe. Kay," Matty repeated.
How her eyes change from a sparkling blue to a fully content sapphire whenever Matty or I do something she loves, or just when we outright tell her we love her, has me believing I'm seeing the pieces of her heart being put back together one by one.
"This is what I was getting at. When I was growing up, there weren't any 'tuck-ins' where my parents and I talked about the things that made us happy that day before I went lights out. Hugs were reserved only for when someone died or we felt so horrible from the flu we thought we would die at any second. 'I love you' wasn't said out loud unless there was someone around to perform for. Compliments were rare except in Val's case ... pointing out my faults and screwups was more important. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about any of this. I've grown up and have mostly gotten past it, but you asked ..."
"I did."
"So I'm just listing a few of the things I've noticed now that I'm on the other side of a parent/child relationship."
"I've watched the change in you that Matty alone has brought. And you've become someone I respect even more because you aren't letting them hurt you anymore," I told her, lacing my fingers through hers.
"Having our little man here," she said, combing the fingers of her free hand through his hair, which is already in need of another haircut, "bless us with his presence, I can't see how anyone can be a hands-off parent like they both were with us. I want to see everything I can through Matty's eyes as he's doing it. I want to be the Mama who teaches him songs even knowing they'll be stuck in my head for weeks. I want every hug he gives or I steal, and I want us to be the people he runs excitedly to see after we've been away from him, so we can hold him as he talks about what he did while we were gone, or just listen to him talk about a new favorite character or toy. So either I need a shrink for loving my baby that much, or my parents need one for not liking theirs."
"I can clear that one up right now. They're the ones who need serious help, but I think the 'old dog/new tricks' adage applies to both of them. I'm not holding my breath for a change."
"Woof ... woof," Matty added at the dog mention. "Where'd Pup-Pup goed gan?"
"He's with one or all of your Uncles. If we were upstairs, he'd be on Mama and Dada's bed if he wasn't playing with you," I answered.
"He's not just a cover hog, he's an entire bed hog. He wants the whole thing to himself and stretches out all four limbs to achieve that goal," Steph said to us. "At least I share."
"And I'm thankful that I'm the one who gets that honor for the rest of my life."
"I'd share it right now if someone was sleeping."
That 'someone's' head started shaking in the negative. "I NO tired. No seepies."
"Okay, gotcha. You have another round or two of play left in you before your nap, don't you?"
His head switched directions as he nodded an affirmative.
"Alrighty then. Tag," she said, stretching across the table to lightly tap his arm. "Get ready to run, my little big man."
"What do you think, Matty?" I asked. "Should we give Mama a few seconds head start?"
"One ... toof ... thwee ... foor..."
"Run, Babe. He can only count to ten. Getting him out of his chair will only take one of those numbers."
"I'm on it."
We could've located her sooner if we had split up into two teams, but Matty wanted to stick together and he kept hold of my hand as we left the kitchen and went to track down the woman we both love immeasurably. Once this game is done, I'll be able to concentrate on her outside threat.
Our dog reappeared a few seconds later with bacon breath, so the Uncle that lured him away from us and held him 'captive' had to have been be Ramon, who considers bacon two of the four basic food groups. Pup-Pup helped out in the search, and we located Stephanie actually hiding inside the portable tent that's kept in my office, which changed this to a game of hide-and-tag. The tent material was printed to look like a night sky with glow in the dark stars everywhere. Since it's still early in the day, the only thing glowing is Stephanie.
"Rats ... you found me!" She said in mock surprise, when Matty poked his head into the tent's opening.
Pup-Pup tried to get his furry behind into it, but there is barely enough room for one adult, never mind one woman plus a wriggling, excited adolescent puppy that has enough tongue and paw for four dogs.
"Pup-pup founds yous," Matty admitted, using a hug as a way of tagging her.
"Great, now he's a search and rescue dog as well as an attack one," she said, crawling out of the play tent.
Whenever it's a slow day ... we take advantage of the quiet hours as a family and turn them into what Steph refers to as our 'staycations', never knowing when another one will come around again.
"Like every other guy here, Pup-Pup has multiple skills," I told her.
"Talk about an understatement. Now you guys better get running or one of you will be tagged since I'm now it."
I spotted something in my periphery. I knelt down beside Matty and spoke quietly but still loudly enough so Steph could hear.
"You could let Mama tag you and then you and Pup-Pup can hurry up into the hall and tag Uncle Ramon. I'm sure he'd love to play, too."
He took a second to think it through, but then he reached his little hand out to his Mama.
She made gentle contact. "Tag ... you're it, my little man. Go get him!"
He did an about-face and ran as fast as his boots would take him. Our puppy did one full circle around Steph and I before letting loose a round of barks that had her covering her ears. He shot out of my office ... excited to be on the hunt again.
"If we're slow in following, the guys will all get involved and we won't have to run as much," Steph pointed out.
"Lester would call that unfair."
"Yeah, but it'd be unfair for us to keep all this fun to ourselves. We're actually being kind because we're willing to share it."
"You make an excellent point."
"I know," she said, wrapping both arms around me as we walked down the hall to see who Matty already included in his game.
Ram, Woody, Ramon, and Bobby, were all in on the action, taking turns tagging Matty and each other, as they added their own mayhem to the control room's usual activity.
"M.J.'s got some moves beyond the dance floor," Woody pointed out.
"He does," Steph agreed. "He also has patience unlike his Mama. He can stand still and wait for his intended target to get close, instead of needing to keep moving and chase them like I do. When it comes to hide-and-seek, I give myself away every time."
"Just when I think he's you all over again," Bobby said to her, "a major Ranger-trait comes out of him. A few weeks back, I had to ask Gene if a statue of The Boss had been erected in the lobby, but it was just Ranger standing there staring at us when we'd needed a stress reliever and started shooting each other with Super Soakers in the parking lot."
"I think Matty got the best of both of us," she answered.
"He did," I agreed, feeling a tap to the back of my leg as Matty came back to us to play.
I'd heard him approaching, but I still let him 'sneak up' on me.
"Ag, Dada. Yous it."
"Come here, Babe."
"Uh-uh," she said. "If you want to tag me, you have to catch me."
And she took off with Pup-Pup in hot pursuit. Our poor puppy had just set his butt down on the carpet, tail wagging and lungs working overtime, but that two-second sitdown was apparently enough time for him to recharge. I would've asked Matty if we should chase his Mama or test out her patience, but he was already grabbing my hand again and pulling me in the direction he saw her go. We caught her quickly this time as she made a last minute decision to try to hide behind Ella.
I caught Matty's Grandmella's smile and gave her a small conspiratorial one back. She scooped up Matthew as I picked up Stephanie.
Matty's laugh summed up our morning. "Mama's up big high," he stated.
She is off the ground and her face was even with mine, so I took this opportunity to kiss her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms again. This morning's shower was sexy, but it did have to end before Matty woke up. As I was letting her lips go, I heard our son's voice.
"Dada smoochies Mama," he reported to Ella.
"Your Daddy does that a lot, doesn't he?" She asked him.
His head said yes for him against her chin. "We wuvs Mama wiff wots of kisses."
Steph looked up at me as I set her on her feet. "He'd better be careful or the government is going to label him a weapon of mass reproduction, since you're already one of mass seduction. He makes me soooo glad I did reproduce."
"He and I are only a threat to you," I assured her, "so the government won't be looking to recruit him."
"Yet ... given who his Daddy is. I would say that it's good that I'm your only target, but it has me worried instead."
I dropped a quick kiss on her mouth and then slid an arm around her back, leading her where Ella was taking Matty ... back to his playgroup. We played for another fifteen minutes. Pup-Pup ran up and down the hallways, in-between outing whoever tried to change the game into a hide-and-seek version of tag again.
"I'm going to take Matty upstairs now," Steph told me, when all the play caught up to him. "Are you coming up with us?"
I took him from her and felt his small body slump tiredly into mine. "I have to have a word with Gene before I come up."
"Okay, but he may already be asleep by the time you're done. He played hard. Can it wait?"
"Any other time ... I'd say yes ..."
"But not today?"
"I've already put it off too long."
"Alright ... Matty give Dada a hug and a kiss before you go sleepies."
He did, but he didn't let go of my neck after he hugged it.
"I know you're our Big Bossman, but how about I carry you upstairs?" I asked him, feeling torn between needing to protect my family and wanting to remain with them.
"Dada cawry mes," he said on a yawn, as he snuggled deeper into my body.
No one can get onto our property, especially since Gene had immediately alerted the men to a possible threat, so I could spend another five minutes with my wife and son. We took the stairs, and as I held Matty, I could feel the rhythm of my steps lulling him into sleep. Normally this wouldn't work, but he's been running at a hundred MPH from the minute he got up this morning.
Steph unlocked the door for us and I went straight to the nursery. I kissed his head and whispered "Sleep well and have nothing but sweet dreams."
Having my share of nightmares, wishing good dreams for him is more than just a parroted statement. I was about to put him in his crib when Steph stopped me.
"Me, too," she told me, kissing the chubby cheek not flattened against my shoulder. "Mama and Dada love you so much. And we always will."
In one move, I transferred him from my shoulder to something more comfortable to sleep on.
"I still can't believe we made him," Steph said, her voice quiet and her touch gentle as she curved a hand along his head.
"It takes me by surprise, too. And I don't surprise easily."
She stepped back and leaned into me for a beat. "Don't I know it. I keep trying, but you always know when I'm up to something. You go take care of business and we'll be here when you get back."
"You say that, or something similar, almost everyday, and I never get tired of hearing it. I remain profoundly grateful for that and you."
I kissed her again and then went back down to five to collect the info I need in order to eliminate another risk to my family and my peace of mind.
"What do you have for me?" I asked Gene and Vince.
"You already know I spotted a man walking to the Rangeman gate, holding flowers and what looked to be a gift in his hands," Gene began. "My initial thought was Morelli was at it again and sent Steph something, but there was no delivery vehicle I could see, and that asshole lingered for a minute after arranging all the shit on the ground. He was gone before Tank got out there, though. After the fact, we saw that he had a card addressed to 'My pretty lady'."
"Gene called me and we zeroed in all the cameras in the area so we could get a clear shot of his face in case this turned into something we need evidence for. The way he hung around for a few seconds had us believing the shit wasn't rigged to blow, but the guy wasn't acting right so we went into immediate protective mode. We knew you and Steph would be back with M.J. and we wanted everything out of there yesterday."
"Tank cleared it for explosives and bioweapons and everything was disposed of after being dusted for prints to see if we could get a match, though Lester felt brave enough to risk the box of chocolates. Tank nixed that idea and kept everything contained away from the building."
"You'd better be about to tell me that you found out who this asshole is."
I didn't make it a question. Being Stephanie's husband, and becoming a father again, meant my wife and children's health, happiness, and safety, comes before anything else. I had to wait until Matty was settled before I could act on my primal fury at someone other than me bringing my wife gifts. Now that I'm able to, I want answers, a target for my rage, and fast.
"Name's Milton Irwin. He does odd landscaping jobs for the tech company in the building two down from ours, which is interesting since this Irwin a-hole is currently collecting disability," Vince informed me.
"Getting paid under the table works for everyone except the government."
"We didn't want to scare Steph as to why Junior and Raphael were positioned at the front gate when you got back," Gene added. "Tank thought it'd be better for you to be the one to break the news to her that she's attracted another nutjob."
"I'm sure Tank would love to know you're blaming him when it's obvious that you all collectively decided you don't want to be anywhere around when Stephanie hears about this," I told them.
"She can curse paint off a car," Vince said. "You at least can calm her down."
"We'll see," I said to them. "I'm going to inform her now before I leave. When I come back down, I want to know everything about anyone working with and around this guy, who owns the building and if he's on the premises today, and why Irwin's able to leave in the middle of a workday to bring my wife presents. Tell Tank, Lester, and Hal, that they're riding with me."
"Yes, Sir," they said simultaneously.
I left them and took the stairs to our apartment. I let myself in without making a sound and met Steph in the hall as she came out of the kitchen.
"Shit, you have that look again," she said, after a double-take at my face. "What's wrong now?" She sighed and closed her eyes for a beat. "Why is there always something wrong?"
"I didn't say anything, Babe."
"You don't have to. You don't even have to look upset anymore, I can just feel whenever you are."
"Matty stayed asleep?"
"So far so good. He's getting older and you know if it was up to him, he'd change his sleeping hours to match ours. Naps are accomplished with a prayer and crossed fingers that he sleeps for longer than forty minutes. So talk fast so I can get the freak out over with before he's awake to see it."
"The text I got while we were on our walk was from Gene. A man who works as a landscaper of sorts in a neighboring business left flowers and chocolate for you at the front gate while we were on our walk."
"Uh-oh. The trash is getting a real workout today, isn't it?"
"No one insults you, hurts you, or flirts with you."
"Those are three of your personal Ten Commandments, right? Along with no one messes with our kids and family."
"I can tolerate a lot but not when it comes to those I love. I'll be having a talk with him momentarily. I wanted to let you know what's going on before I head out."
"You could've told me about this after you heard from Gene."
"And have you stressed out during playtime with Matty? Neither of you deserve to have your time together fucked up."
"You were probably stressed," she reasoned.
"I've had too much practice hiding what I'm feeling, Babe. Matty will never feel anything unpleasant coming from me. He doesn't need any negativity in his life. He'll get a crash course in that when school starts."
"That's true. Maybe this is just a sweet guy who saw us pass by a few times and was just trying to do something nice."
"Anything's possible ..."
"But you don't think so in this case, do you?"
"My gut says no."
"Any chance he's like Boo Radley ..."
"Like in To Kill A Mockingbird?" I asked, not expecting to hear a book reference.
"Yeah. All the kids in the neighborhood thought he was sooo scary, but he turned out to be a white knight in the end."
"I doubt this guy is worthy of classic fiction."
"You know ... this really sucks! Going out in public doesn't feel safe at all anymore. And now our home isn't immune to whackos, either. What's left?"
"We just continue to live our lives, Steph. We do the same things we've been doing," I said, trying to reassure her. "I've already been rearranging my schedule to go along with you and Matty whenever I can. Now when I can't accompany you, two or more of the men will automatically be waiting for you in the garage."
"But before it was because I like having you and the guys around. These days, I know there's a reason beyond us liking the company."
"You already know that Matty, Julie, and your, safety is always a Rangeman priority. As much as they enjoy time spent with you, the men are there acting as bodyguards first. Matthew's Uncles and your friends still fight over, and bribe each other, for the honor ... so don't you believe for a minute that you're just 'a job' to any of them. They'd be hurt if you even kid at that being true."
"Thanks for saying that. I know you all have eyes on your eyes, and that's what makes me breathe easier whenever we go anywhere. I am grateful for the backup I get. I don't want Matty to feel afraid for any reason, but I'll never risk him even if that means taking an arsenal to the store with us. If it was just me ..."
"Stop there, Stephanie," I ordered her. "You Are Not expendable."
"Alright, not now. I have a family to love and take care of, but when Vinnie first hired me, as long as I got the bad guy without getting anyone hurt or killed in the process, it didn't matter what happened to me so much. Well, except after the case was closed or murder got solved. Then I'd crumple into a heap as reality and delayed fear shot both barrels at me."
"You had better be your first thought now," I stated.
She put her arms around me and held on. "Our family is always my first thought, and that's why this scares me more. Not only do I have to be here for you, Matty, and Julie, I desperately want to be, which is why my emotions are zigzagging between nervous and really ticked off."
"I'll handle it," I promised her.
"I would ask if I can come just to see who this guy is, but I really don't want to. I've had my fill of crazy people lately. Just please take Tank and some guys with you, put your vest on, and be really, really careful. What you feel when I'm being targeted or threatened is magnified by a million in my mind when it comes to you."
"I'll be fine, Babe," I said, pulling her close for a kiss. "It's this guy who needs to be worried."
"Maybe this means I'm a horrible person, but I'm not really feeling any concern for him. I'm tired of being someone people fixate on. You finally got Joe to give me a wide berth, and then another person steps right up to the crazy plate to mess up my life."
"Like I did with Morelli, Steph, I will end this. Today."
"Yeah, but once the alarm has been sounded ... the paranoia lingers."
I can't argue that one. The majority of my life has been spent expecting and watching out for people trying to kill me. When Julie entered my life, then Stephanie and now Matty became the center of it, I started protecting them the same way I've been protecting myself. There is never a day when my guard goes down, only days when my instincts scream louder.
"Our life will remain the same," I promised her. "You'll just have even more help carrying bags or Matty if you go somewhere without me, instead of making the guys have to scramble down to the garage when they hear you're coming and need assistance. Consider this a reward for the men instead of a punishment for you. They love hanging out with you and Matty, and upped security just gives them a reason to do it without worrying that I'm going to kick their asses or that more time spent with them will cause you to tire of them."
She smiled. "You twisted that nicely. I now feel bad for wishing that extra security isn't necessary."
"Don't feel bad," I said, hugging her to me. "It's just a precaution."
"Yeah, because you'll take care of this ... I know."
She propped her chin on my chest and looked up towards my face. "Thank you."
"I warned you when we got together that I will never let you go, and I won't let anything happen to you. That hasn't changed. You aren't just my wife and Matty's Mom, Babe, you're everything to me. Someone targeting you isn't something I'm going to ignore."
"I didn't think you would. So wrap this up quick. Matty will want to see you when he wakes up. I think he knows that if you're not here for bedtime or when he wakes up from his nap, something big is going on."
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
She raised herself up onto her tiptoes. "I'm watching the clock," she said, and she gave me a kiss that my mouth, dick, and legs, didn't want to walk away from.
But if I want a lifetime of them, I have to keep her safe. I called Tank from the stairwell and told him I'm leaving and to have a file in his hand when he gets to the garage. Once I reached the ground floor, he, Lester, Hal, and I, looked over the picture of - and info on - this Irwin guy before we got suited up and left the property. While we're only going two hundred feet down the road, I took three men and two vehicles. A show of force is important in every battle.
The asshole was conveniently raking leaves near the parking area when we pulled in, so I didn't have to hunt him down, which if I'm being honest I was disappointed about. Having to track your prey makes you appreciate the kill even more. I'd been looking forward to the extra minutes of picturing how I'll be making him suffer. As I parked, I kept my eyes on him in case he suddenly turned smart and tried to run. It wouldn't get him anywhere, but it'd show that he has at least one working brain cell.
Tank and I got out of my truck while Lester and Hal left their SUV to join us in surrounding the fucker. Irwin didn't seem to look surprised or even scared, more distracted and possibly curious why we were standing in a circle around him.
"Why are you leaving my wife gifts outside of my building?" I asked, not bothering with an introduction, noting that his eyes don't look right ... not high exactly, just not all there. "Did you catch that? She's MY WIFE, not your anything."
Someone would have to be insane to approach my wife, let alone suddenly give her gifts, but I have a feeling I'm dealing with another kind of insanity. His next words proved it.
"That pretty lady likes me. She wants to live in one of my houses."
"No, she doesn't. And from what I've learned about you, you don't own anything, let alone multiple properties. My wife wants nothing to do with you. She lives with me in my building. She's never met you ... and I'm going to keep it that way."
"She smiled at me yesterday," he said in our general direction. "That means she loves me and wants to have a baby with me like the one she was walking."
My jaw and fist clenched at the same time. He said that like Matty was being 'walked' similar to how Pup-Pup was. Mine and Tank's anger intensified at Matty being brought into the conversation, while Santos almost ruined the intimidation routine we had going by laughing at the absurdity of Stephanie wanting anyone but me. Especially a guy in his sixties, who is half-bald, pasty where he isn't sunburned, with a paunch even a jacket can't conceal. That isn't even getting into his questionable sanity levels.
"A smile means she's a friendly person, not one looking to attract unwanted attention. Yours is definitely unwanted and you will be stopping it."
It's clear that nothing I say is penetrating. His eyes kept straying to the empty air above my right shoulder. He's in his own little fucked-up world and he picked Stephanie to join him in it.
"She wants to have my baby. The redhead at the diner does, too, but the one here is prettier. Maybe I should get them both pregnant. Every man needs a son. One of them should give me one."
"Are you fucking nuts?!" Tank asked him, his rage and sudden urge to strangle the stupid fuck, forced his upper body forward, making Irwin bounce back a good six inches. "She doesn't even know who the fuck you are. And no one touches the Boss' Lady."
"Women want me," he repeated. "They all smile at me. The one I saw here wants to live with me."
"The disability-thing is making a lot of fucking sense now," Lester said. "He's bat crap crazy. I'm not even sure this fucker knows we're on the planet earth."
"He probably thinks we've landed on his home planet instead," Tank added.
There is no sympathy felt by anyone when Stephanie could be in danger.
"Both of you, shut it," I ordered, studying the man in front of us, sizing up his threat-potential.
Steph could kick this guy's ass with her eyes closed and her wrists cuffed, but all it takes is one second and one bullet to make him a killer. It's my job as Steph's husband and forever bodyguard to prevent an idea like that from even forming.
"Hal, go track down the owner. I want to know why he's employing someone who appears this unstable."
"Yes, Sir."
He left and returned five minutes later with an angry-looking guy, made even more pissed by having his arm yanked up high behind him as Hal pushed him forward to face us. During those few minutes of waiting, Irwin kept staring down the street towards the Rangeman building as if Stephanie would materialize in front of it at any second. I used to stare at her apartment window the same way, with the same intentions, hoping she'd sense me in the parking lot and call and invite me up ... just to talk if nothing else.
That was only acceptable behavior for me because I love and respect her, and was scared for her more days than not. An out-of-it asshole using her charming nature and beauty against her is completely unacceptable. I'm not happy about not being able to beat some reality into him, but he is older and clearly is not in a lucid state of mind. I could shoot him in the head right now and he'd have no fucking clue he's dead.
"What the fuck is going on here?" The building and business owner Horas Shelmet demanded.
"That's what I want to know," I answered, feeling Tank's anger being redirected to Shelmet, as he moved closer in case I need backup or to be restrained. "Why is Irwin working here, not only while collecting money from the government, but also not being mentally stable?"
He sighed. "What'd Milton do now?" He asked, not shocked that there's a problem. "It's always something with this idiot."
"Most employers would call that a liability. And if someone cared about him, I'd consider it a personal hazard for him."
"Yeah, well ... when you're married to his cousin, you'd take a dozen settlements over pissing her off by firing his ass like I've been wanting to do."
"Pussy," Lester cough-said.
"You married?" He asked Santos.
"No."
Horas snorted. "You got no fucking idea what you're talking about then."
"Well I'm married," I informed him, "and I don't appreciate him leaving my wife presents at the gate of my building, and hearing him make plans that include her."
"His building is Rangeman ... the security firm," Tank added, happy to point out that particular fact. "And speaking of his missus, Mrs. Ranger Manoso's cousin is married to a cop with the TPD and is also good friends with a few other officers on the force. If people fuck with her ... they disappear. Simple as that."
"Shit." He walked over to Milton and cuffed him on the back of the head. "I told you not to go near any women. You're gonna get yourself locked up if you don't smarten up. You keep your eyes, hands, and comments, to yourself and away from other people. You hear me?"
"You're not going to have to worry about a jail cell if my wife isn't left alone," I warned him. "He'll be fitted for a grave instead of a jumpsuit. And I'll make damn sure your business goes down for employing someone you know is dangerous and one you can't control."
"I tried to get him to a doctor just to see which screw is loose, but my wife thinks he's harmless and just a little slow. I'm not about to force him to talk to someone and fuck up my life because of him."
This has a similar Helen/Frank Plum dynamic, him ignoring unacceptable behavior because it's easier than challenging it and stepping up to the plate himself. I tried to put the anger I feel towards my in-laws in a separate compartment inside my brain despite the turkey farmer discussion being fresh in my mind. I don't need another wave of rage to cloud my judgment right now.
"I'm forcing it," I informed him. "He's a danger not only to the public, but especially to my family. I'm not risking him doing more than just dropping off gifts." I pulled out my cell, keeping both men in my sights and called the control room. "I need an ambulatory escort and someone to meet it at St. Francis to get Irwin a one-way ticket to Psych with no waiting and no questions."
"I'll have someone there in seven minutes tops," Vince promised. "You think he'd hurt Steph?"
"He's not getting the opportunity to get near her," was my answer.
"You can't get him put away without his or our consent," Horas told me after I disconnected.
"Watch me."
That Milton added nothing to our conversation even when it involved his sanity and new living arrangements, had me even more concerned. The only time he looked away from my building was when he was being physically restrained and then dragged, struggling and mumbling, to the back of the ambulance. When the paramedics first arrived, he didn't respond to any question posed to him beyond a grunt or complete silence. They decided they had a reason to take him off our hands without me even needing to threaten them. I didn't have to do more than tap the back of the ambulance when they were all loaded up. Horas figured the safest place for him when his wife hears about this is in a crowded hospital with plenty of witnesses, so he left with them.
"And people think we're crazy and a danger to the general population?" Lester said, in the eerie quiet after we were left alone in the parking lot. "When we're the ones cleaning up messes like this one before they become full fledged disasters?"
"No shit. It seems all the actual crazies find Steph," Tank added.
"I want a full report of what they find," I told my team. "I'm saying this here because it's likely Matty will be up when we get back, and I won't be able to talk to Steph about what happened here until he's otherwise occupied. I'm the only one who will be speaking to her about this."
"We've got it, Bossman," Lester promised me. "She's one of ours and nobody is allowed to fuck with her. She's safe. If they somehow release this fucker, I'll shoot him as soon as he steps back through the hospital doors, and that'll be the end of this."
"You should know better than to mention a crime you're thinking of committing," Tank advised, but we all could see that he approved of the gesture.
"Who's gonna turn me in?" He asked. "If you both were willing to risk getting shot to keep me from being just a blip on a news report, you aren't about to send me to the slammer for protecting Stephanie. After all the shit she's had to go through, she deserves to be happy and not have to worry every time she leaves the fucking building."
He has nothing to worry about because I'd take out Irwin long before anyone even knew he'd been discharged.
Santos and Hal headed to the hospital so we'd get information straight from the doctor's mouth. When Tank and I got back to the Rangeman building, Matty was selling ice cream in the control room from his mobile ice cream cart. The ice cream is plastic, but the money his Uncles were giving him for it is very real. He was adding a scoop of faux vanilla to an equally fake cone for Ram when he saw me stepping out of the stairwell. Being the professional he is, he handed - albeit quickly - Ram's ice cream cone to him before high-diapering it over to me.
"Dada's back ommed wiff us!" He shouted with enthusiasm, as I bent down to pick him up for a hug. "I's awake gan," was said with a dimpled and proud smile.
His face was only inches from mine and I watched, completely fascinated, as his tiny mouth deliberately formed each of the words he wanted to say. As if being able to speak in mostly full sentences is still so new to him, he isn't going to risk messing up his intended word choice. He smiled, kissed the palm of his hand, and then tossed the kiss to Tank, who was standing behind me, but I remained his primary focus.
"I can see that," I told him, kissing his hair. "Are you feeding your Uncles ice cream again?"
"It's not against the rules," Steph pointed out. "Matty's ice cream is fat-free and has no calories or cholesterol. It'd be the perfect food if you could actually eat it."
"Speaking of ice cream," Ram said, "I didn't get a chance to pay for mine, M.J."
He handed Matthew a twenty. My son flashed another grin, and all the little teeth that have come in so far, at his Uncle.
"Ank You, Unca Wam."
"You are very welcome, M.J. I'll see you tomorrow for a chocolate cone. Don't let Uncle Lester eat it all when he gets back, like he did yesterday."
"What do you think we should do with that twenty dollars, Matty?" His Mama asked him.
"I pudded in the Elber jawr."
"What a good idea you have. Do you remember why Mama said we should have a 'Helper Jar'?"
"So we'd be can ELB peoples."
"That's right. We have a great life here with Grandmella, Gwampy Ooie, and all your Uncles, but some people aren't so lucky and could use our help."
"I's elb 'em."
"You are Dada's son alright. He helps people everyday."
His dark head turned and he was looking right at me again. "I's be Dada's elber."
"You already are," I told him, which got me a lip-pucker like he gives his Mama.
I kissed him back and put him down so he could run with Pup-Pup, who once again appeared late to the party. As Steph and I followed them, she filled me in on another case of dog-napping. Ramon wanted a bacon buddy, I found out Brown had less sinister motives.
"After you left, Bobby came up and offered to take Pup-Pup for another walk, so I assumed he was left behind and wanted to do the intimidation-thing from the street using the attack-mutt-mode our goofy dog possesses."
I can easily picture them securing the perimeter if they couldn't be part of the actual mission.
"This guy was a concern?" She asked me.
"Yes. I'll fill you in once we get a minute."
We watched Matty run to the small desk I'd purchased for him to sit beside his Mama's. 'Every boss needs their own desk' I'd told him when it had been delivered. Our son crammed the money into the lid of the bank he and his Mama made on the last rainy day we had out of a cleaned-out family size peanut butter jar. They painted the outside of it with non-toxic chalkboard paint, and every day he adds a new drawing to it until it's full. When it is, Steph takes a picture of it to add to his 'Art Album' before Matty erases it to start all over for the week ahead.
So far, the jar has another smiley face, but this one has a triangle body, instead of being just a floating head like 'Charwey' is. Charwey's done alright for himself, since he now has a floating head family to keep him company on our fridge. The helper jar also has what is supposed to be the Rangeman building, yet looks like a slanted rectangle with lines going through it everywhere. Steph says all the lines are making bricks ... and I'm not arguing with her. She excels at interpreting Matty's art, thoughts, and words. An attempted ice cream cone was immediately added after my parents surprised him with the ice cream cart.
They claimed it's a birthday present, but his birthday is in April ... months from now. Instead of breaking my mother's heart by insisting she wait, Steph's solution was a helper jar to encourage our son's understanding that while getting toys is fun, helping those who don't have any is even better. Matthew is a sweet, gentle, and caring, little man, but I was still surprised how quickly he embraced the idea.
"While you were gone, we've made this run after each and every cone was bought," Steph told me. "Matty makes more money at almost two with fake food, than I did working for Vinnie as a grown-up catching real people. Okay, only some of them were people, most I'm still convinced were aliens, psychos, or trolls."
"Vinnie is selfish and self-centered. He wouldn't even pay his own mother fairly. Matty's Uncles thrive on fair play."
"Yep, they do. They are overly fair-paying for food they can't eat."
"But being able to encourage and influence Matty in a positive way is worth any amount of time or money to them. If you tell them to stop, they'll just double or triple his profits the next time his ice cream cart comes rolling down the hall."
Her palms went up in defeat. "I'm not taking anything that they enjoy away from them. You have a way of wording things, though, that make me feel dumb for questioning something."
"I don't want you to question yourself or your instincts, Babe, but you should never stop asking questions or saying what you're thinking."
"You should know that I now speak my mind too much when I feel strongly about something."
"Still not enough to suit me."
She curled her arms around my waist and leaned in close for a kiss. A kiss that was broken far too quickly by a little body wedging himself between ours.
"I's paid the jawr," he told us in his 'I'm a big boy' voice.
I slid my hand over his hair. "I'm proud of you, Matty, for wanting to help people who really need it."
His chest puffed out with pride and importance. "I's dos goods."
"You definitely do spread do-goods everywhere you go," Steph told him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "I'm very proud of you, too. Are you selling more snacks or are we going to do something else before we get some Mama-work done?"
Tank looked at me before speaking up. "I'll take a cone, M.J. if you have some ice cream left," he told Matty.
"The good thing about plastic ice cream is it's recyclable," Stephanie said to us. "Ramon and Junior should be done with theirs by now, so every flavor will be ready to be re-scooped."
"Do not say that around my mother. She'll contact the company and request they sell refill packs that include specialty flavors," I warned her. "She actually ordered extra cymbals for the drum kit they have for him at their house."
She laughed. "I can see her doing that in a heartbeat. Come on, Tank, let's get you some ice cream. Matty, how many scoops do you think GodUncleTank needs?"
His dark head tipped to the side as he studied Tank while chewing on his index finger ... his usual thinking pose. After a beat, we watched his hand come out of his mouth and two tiny fingers came up.
"GobUncaAnk wanfs chocwif and stwawbewwy."
"Sounds good to me," his Uncle told him.
"Before you get to the ice cream, Matty, why don't you show him how many donations you and your jar got today," I suggested.
"Oh. Kay," he told me, grabbing one of Tank's giant hands with both of his. "I's elbs lots o' peoples. Mama an Dada says I dos goods."
"You do help more people than you know, M.J. There's no doubt about that," we heard Tank reply, as they walked to the desk, giving Steph and I a brief moment to talk.
"So ... do I need to be worried?" Steph asked quietly, as Tank added a fifty to Matty's helper jar before even getting his plastic cone.
"Not now, but the guy definitely has something misfiring in his brain. I'm waiting for Lester to get me the details from the hospital after he's been seen."
"Hospital? Did this guy tick you off or something?" She asked.
"Yes, but I couldn't kick his ass for giving you gifts. He doesn't seem all there mentally and could be dangerous if he acted on any of his delusions. I wasn't willing to risk that he could become a serious threat, so he's being admitted someplace that can watch him twenty-four-seven. So now I just have to watch the building he's in instead of tracking his individual movements."
"Did he have a choice in this?"
"No."
She released a breath that let me know she'd been picturing herself at the center of another stalking/terrorizing case. "Do I know him?"
"No. He claims during yesterdays walk with Pup-Pup and Matty, you smiled at him as you passed by the building he was supposedly doing lawn maintenance on. He was in need of a babysitter, and the wife of the employer would've kicked the boss' ass for not hiring her relative."
"I don't remember smiling at anyone except Matty."
"You likely just turned your head as you were smiling at something Matty said or Pup-Pup did, and this guy switched on his fantasy switch right after. Even if you smiled and waved, he had no reason to make contact. This is on him, not you."
She shuddered. "He has to be crazy if he thinks I'd want anyone except you."
"That was my men's take on it, too. Reality isn't something this guy is familiar with, which is going to get him a hospital room before he winds up in a prison cell or a cemetery. From what was said, he's had problems being inappropriate towards women in the past. You know my feelings on that."
"I do. You having a daughter and four sisters who all carry the Manoso genes, you physically don't approve of anyone not treating them respectfully and preferably with plenty of distance between them."
"Some asshole putting their hands or words on someone, I'm not standing for ... whether it's you, my sisters, or a total stranger. In my family, we were raised to respect everyone. But my brother and I had it drilled into us from a young age that men protect women, we don't abuse them."
"Congratulations on saying that like you wouldn't have gone all Army Ranger on him if he had handed me the flowers himself."
"I was hoping you'd focus on my sisters and Julie's safety, and not call me out on what I didn't say. He would be mulch right now if he had come anywhere near you."
"The Halloween bomb was scary because it was so random and could've injured our guys, but this is terrifying, too. Someone in our neighborhood becomes fixated on me because of a simple facial expression I wasn't even aware I was giving him? It's insane."
"It's a crazy world out there these days, Babe," I said, tucking her to my side for safekeeping as we followed Matty and Tank out of her office.
"I know ... and I really hate it sometimes. I swear, I wake up in the morning ... and two hours later, I'm wondering when the hell common sense, common decency, and respect for your fellow planet-dwellers, became morally extinct."
"That's a normal reaction when you're exposed to the unhinged and unfeeling segment of the population on a regular basis."
"On the flip side, Matty's incredible, Julie's amazing, and we get to be surrounded by these guys everyday," she said, looking at Tank who was high-fiving Matty for a job well done with his snack scooping ability, before chasing after our son when he 'agged' his Uncle into a new round of Tag. "The world may totally suck out there, but I'll be the first to admit ... in here, our world is pretty friggin' awesome."
