Previously:
Now that he'd had a taste of what being with Stephanie was like, it was torture to go without. Lester told him that she and the cop were off again. Something about an argument over him throwing out the peanut butter and olives that she'd brought to his house.
Ranger read his sister's note again. Thought about his military contract nearing its end. Thought about how Stephanie's body felt against his and how very much he wanted that again and forever.
Maybe birthday wishes could come true. He wouldn't know unless he tried.
Chapter 2 - Wednesday
"All I'm saying is don't knock it if you ain't tried it." Lula waved the half-eaten celery stalk clutched in her right hand for emphasis before dunking it into the family sized vat of ranch dip clutched in her left. Little dots of white spattered the couch around her, showing up vividly against the black fake leather.
"I don't have to try it. My cousin LaVerne did so I know the cabbage soup diet doesn't work." Connie pointed her emery board at the couch. "Be careful with that, will ya?"
Stephanie eyed the moving stalk warily. Even sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Lula wasn't quite far enough to avoid the splash zone. There was one small dot of ranch dip just above the knee of her second-best jeans and one on the side of her thigh. Leaning forward she could see one more splotch on the toe of her admittedly ragged sneakers.
What was really unfair was that food never seemed to land on Lula. Her fluorescent yellow tube top and neon green spandex skirt were spotless. The same colors adorned her long nails in an alternating pattern, starting with yellow on the thumbs, then green on the pointer finger and so on. Her hair was pulled into a couple of dozen braids with bright orange beads on the end of each. They matched the orange of her stiletto heels.
Stephanie could never pull off an outfit like that - few people could, except maybe Sally Sweet - but on Lula it looked great. She pulled her attention back to the conversation.
Lula shook her head at Connie and gestured with another swoop of the celery stalk. "My hairdresser's neighbor's cousin did the cabbage soup diet and lost 60 pounds in two months. You can eat all the cabbage soup you want. Then each day you can only eat other specific foods with it. Like, today it's okay to eat vegetables."
"What about that dressing?" asked Stephanie. "How is that allowed?"
"It's not," said Connie.
There was an authoritative tone to her voice that made Stephanie believe her. Lula must have missed it because she continued to argue her point.
"Of course it is," huffed Lula with another wave of dip-laden celery. "it's one of those things that nobody has to say out loud because everybody knows it. Like if I say I'm eating chicken for dinner I don't have to say it's fried. Of course it's fried. It's chicken. That's how I know that dip is okay. How else are you gonna eat tasteless crap like celery if you don't have dip?"
"I'm not sure that's how it works - " began Stephanie but Lula cut her off, still working herself up on the subject.
"Besides, I need the extra calories. This is my fourth day on the diet and that damn soup ain't filling me up. By the end of the first day I ate a whole pot of that soup and was too hungry to get to sleep. Naturally, I went to Cluck in a Bucket to get a little something to sustain myself. I forgot they're closed at 1:30 in the morning. " She reached into a bag at her feet and pulled out a fresh rib of celery then used it to shovel up about a quarter of a cup of dip. "So on day two I doubled up on the cabbage in the soup. I ate a whole pot and that almost did it. Then yesterday, I tripled the cabbage and ate a pot of that. So far today, I've had half a pot of soup and a little bit of celery and I'm doing okay."
Lula punctuated her speech with short sharp stabs of the gooey celery. A big glob of dip flew off and landed smack on Stephanie's right boob. She glanced down at her faded grey t-shirt annoyed at Lula for getting it dirty. Huh. Well, that jelly stain on her left boob didn't come from Lula. Neither did that powdered sugar.
Hauling her purse up to her lap, she rummaged through it looking for a tissue. Eventually she settled for a receipt for 3 pints of Ben and Jerry's that she'd bought two weeks ago when she needed cheering up after a really stinky take down. She swiped up as much of the dip as she could. Crumpling up the receipt to keep the dip from spreading, she tossed it at the little trash can next to Connie's desk. Inside she cheered as it dropped straight in. She brushed at the powder on her left boob and wished she had another donut.
"That's a lot of cabbage," remarked Connie. "You know what cabbage does to you, don't you?"
"I know it's gonna make me look beautiful as soon as I eat enough of it."
Stephanie looked over at Connie who, as usual, looked stylish even with her black hair teased way out in a Jersey Girl hairstyle. Her cute leopard print top showed off her assets and matched her leopard print kitten heel pumps. The shoes and top were paired with a dark brown skirt. Her nails and lipstick were fire engine red.
That was a killer look for Connie but, again, Stephanie would look out of place if she tried to copy it. She sighed and kind of wished she didn't have a job that was best done in old clothes in case she ended up wrestling in garbage. Sure she didn't have to wear pantyhose to catch criminals but she couldn't really look nice, either.
Speaking of earning a living … she looked back at the file on her lap.
The only FTA that Connie had for her today was 42 year old Roland Belmond. Roland was 5'11'' and 220 lbs. His bald head must have been shaved because parts of it had a five o'clock shadow. His face looked like ice cream that had sat on the counter too long and started to lose its shape. He'd been wearing a tank top in his mug shot which was perfect for showing off the luxurious black hair covering his shoulders.
Roland had gotten busted at the corner of Hewitt Avenue and Henry Street at 3:30 in the morning. He had stolen five shopping carts from the Supreme Food Market a few blocks away. They were all crammed together with Roland pushing them up the middle of the street singing railroad songs. Every now and then he'd make steam train chugga-chugga sound effects.
He was charged with drunk and disorderly, public intoxication, resisting arrest, and creating a nuisance. The resisting arrest charge stemmed from Roland yelling "All aboard!" while trying to shove the responding officer onto the train of carts. The officer also tossed in a charge for breaking a noise ordinance because, in the officer's words, the sound that Roland was making did not count as singing.
Roland's most recent address was a couple of blocks from Mooner and Dougie. His file showed no prior arrests and no current job, either. She could swing by and see if he was home and cooperative. If he was, she'd get her rent money for the month. If he was neither, then she would back off for now and drop in on Mooner and whatever television show was having a marathon.
First, she'd wait for a lull in the ongoing cabbage soup diet debate then let her friends know she was leaving. As she closed the file folder, a long squeaky vibration came from Lula's end of the couch. Lula froze.
Connie stared at her. "I warned you about that cabbage."
"That wasn't me!" retorted Lula. "That was your damn couch. You know how leather makes noise when you move around."
"That's not leather," countered Connie. "It's that fake stuff."
"Doesn't matter," Lula insisted. She was out of celery and reduced to waving the almost empty vat of dip for emphasis. "It all makes that noise. Don't you be accusing me of farting on your damn sofa."
Stephanie wasn't sure exactly what caused the sound but if it was a cabbage related event there was no way she was hanging out in sniffing distance. She grabbed her purse and jammed the file into it while she hurried out, leaving the argument behind.
Once at Roland's place she readied both her friendliest smile and her stun gun. The man himself answered less than a minute after she knocked. The hair on his head had grown out to peach fuzz length but his face looked the same. He smelled like an old bus. He wore baggy white basketball shorts, untied sneakers, and a grey t-shirt. The t-shirt had stains on the chest under the chin which was kind of gross but it also had sleeves so she didn't have to look at the thatch of hair on each shoulder.
Stephanie gave her rebonding spiel and he instantly complied. He didn't even hesitate but grabbed his wallet and keys and meekly followed her to the car. He seemed like a nice fellow. No need to bring out the cuffs though he would still have to sit in the back. She even opened the door for him.
As he got into the back seat, he pointed at her chest and said "Hey look! We're shirt twins!"
She looked down at her shirt then looked over at his.
"See?" He smiled widely. "We're both in grey t-shirts and we both have splotches. Though mine are from ketchup and mustard. Yours are jelly and mayonnaise, am I right?"
Okay, it was bad enough that she couldn't dress up like Connie or Lula could. Not that she wanted to dress like them, but she had her own style. She knew how to dress professionally with a hint of sex appeal. At least she used to, back before she wrangled non-compliant criminals for a living. It was like the universe was calling her dowdy today. Or frumpy. Or unkempt. Whatever the message, she felt inadequate and homely and wished she could kick something.
Instead, she fake-smiled at him and said, "I'm sorry, but procedure requires that you be handcuffed until we get to the station."
He was cuffed and secured before he could reply. It was a quiet ride to the station. As she walked him in, she felt a little bit bad for cuffing him as punishment for his comment. Then Carl Costanza passed them quipping, "Is this Dress Like Your Perp Day?" and laughing so hard at his own joke that he snorted. She wondered if she could get away with "accidentally" stunning a cop. Then she wondered if the cops would find some way to bet on that like they bet on her cars and sighed.
She got her cuffs back when she passed Roland over to Robin Russell. During the entire transaction Robin had been very obviously avoiding looking at Stephanie's shirt which somehow made the stains more noticeable. The sooner she got out of here the better. Stephanie had the body receipt in hand and was heading for the door when she heard the sound she'd been dreading.
"Cupcake! Wait up."
It was tempting to pretend that she hadn't heard him but he was already too close for that. He'd just speed up and catch her before she could get outside and into her car. She turned to face him.
As always, Joe Morelli looked good. Then again, it was difficult for 6 feet of handsome well-muscled Italian with wavy black hair and warm brown eyes to look bad.
Currently, they were in an off phase and oddly enough, even though she could appreciate his physique, there was a sort of clinical detachment to it. That was new. Usually when she saw Joe after some time apart, the sight made something in her go pittypat. If asked, she'd have said it was her heart but truthfully the reaction was a bit further down.
She crossed her arms, partly to seem standoffish but also in an attempt to hide the stains on her shirt. All it did was draw his attention to them.
He grinned at her. "Saving that in case you get hungry later? Let me guess, jelly donut and," he peered a little closer, "ranch dressing? Weird combination but then again, you like peanut butter and olives."
She rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms. "What do you want, Joe?"
"I wanted to remind you of our date Saturday." He was still looking at her shirt but she was pretty sure that this time he was focused on what was under it.
"Joe, we're in an off phase. That means no dating."
How hard was it to understand that the Off Phase meant they wouldn't see each other? He understood it enough to take that nurse out two weeks ago. Half the Burg had been eager to tell her all about it.
"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand dismissively. "You need time to yourself or to think or whatever."
"You make it sound like - "
He spoke louder to drown out her objections. "The point is, this is something we had already planned before your little," he made air quotes, "timeout."
She tried to recall what he was talking about but nothing came to mind. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Cathy's birthday." He paused for her response. When none came, he continued. "The big celebration at the casino in Atlantic City?"
That didn't make sense. "Cathy's birthday isn't until the end of September."
"Yes but school will be back in session. You know it's easier for teachers to do stuff in the summer, so she moved it up."
Stephanie was pretty sure she would have remembered something like that. She would have remembered his sister's birthday party, even if it was a month early. Or maybe the timing would have made it more memorable? She would definitely have remembered the location. Atlantic City? Oh yeah. A casino? You bet. A chance to hang out at the beach, even if it wasn't Point Pleasant? Yep.
Any one of those things by themselves would have been enough for her to remember. Put them all together and there's no way she would have forgotten.
"No, I don't remember hearing about it, much less agreeing to go." She tried to put some steel into her voice, the way that Ranger, Lester, and the others did. It came out more whiny than she'd hoped.
He frowned. "Huh. I'm sure I let you know after I told her we'd be there."
"After?" She crossed her arms again so she would feel less tempted to reach for her stun gun. "So you didn't even ask what I wanted, you just told her we'd be there?"
Joe shrugged. "It was an On Phase. We were a couple. Couples answer for each other. Besides you like my sister. And she specifically asked if you'd be there."
"I do like Cathy, but that's not the - "
"She's picking up the tab for this. They charge by the head and she's already paid for your spot."
She tried again. "That's very generous of her but I'm not the one who agreed to this."
"Come on. You know it'll be fun, Cathy's expecting you and she's already paid for you to be there. How can you disappoint her and ruin her birthday?"
"Joe. I …" She and Cathy had always gotten along. She was funny and she never put The Eye on anyone. And she never gossiped about Stephanie.
She could feel herself wavering. Apparently so could Joe.
"Come on," he cajoled. He waggled his eyebrows enticingly. "First two drinks are included. You get a round of chips to start the gambling. Good food, birthday cake, and lots of fun." He paused and looked her over with a cop's eye, assessing how close she was to capitulation. "Really. How often do you get a chance like this? Pass this by and you'll never see it again."
She puffed out her cheeks, blew out the breath she'd been holding, and dropped her arms to her sides.
"Okay. I'll go." She poked her finger into his chest. "But we are NOT in an On Phase. And this is NOT a date!"
"Great! I'll text Cathy now to confirm so you can't back out." He grabbed Steph by the upper arms and gave her a quick smack on the lips. He turned and hurried off, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Stephanie wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and headed to her car. The instant she stepped from the tepid air conditioning of the cop shop into the intense heat and humidity of a summer day in New Jersey, she broke into a full body sweat. Great. She'd probably end up with pit stains to go with the rest of the collection on her shirt. At least the air conditioning in her current POS mostly worked.
As she buckled in, she thought about her encounter with Joe. She should have felt at least a little excited about the prospect of a fun day or about things possibly getting back on track with Joe. Instead she felt aggravated and annoyed. Maybe she should think about why she felt that way.
She turned the key and put the car in gear. Or maybe she'd stock up on Ben & Jerry's, head back to her apartment, and have a TV marathon of her own. Thinking could wait.
- - To Be Continued - -