Fly Free
A/N: Quite unintentionally this is very similar to a story by MMBabefannnn. Hers is far better than mine. Consider this my attempt to get back to writing.
One of womanhood's miseries is regular "female" exams. Due to my financial situation from the divorce from The Dick, my gynecological exams are often put off along with oral health. It wasn't until I became a part-time employee of Rangeman several years ago have I had health insurance. OK, I was covered for my medical disasters, but I refused to test their generosity for maintenance, until recently.
Abdominal pain had me hunched over my work desk … again. Somebody in the office noticed my grimaces and contacted Bobby, the Rangeman medic. He called my phone and asked me to help him with something as a diversion to get me into his medical office.
"OK Bomber, your grimaces, and hunched posture are causing the guys to be concerned. Since it's been going on for several days, it is unlikely to be PMS or menstrual cramps."
I was mortified to be talking about female problems with Bobby. My Jersey stare was strong enough to register on the Superman scale, but today it was not working on the medic. The Merry Men were growing immune.
"When was the last time you saw your OBGYN?"
"It's been a while. I go when I have money."
"You have health insurance from here. Use it, now," he said curtly.
"I'll call later," I diffused.
"Now."
Never had Bobby been so direct. I consider Bobby a good first aid man, clean and stitch, but not a personal care physician. "I left my phone at my desk." I was trying every excuse not to make the call.
Grabbing his cell phone, "What's the name? I will call."
Dang, he called my bluff. "Bobby," I said steadily, "it's fibroids. I've had them for a couple of years."
Bobby relaxed a bit. Well, he did put down his phone. "Have you had increased symptoms?"
"Bobby," I wailed. "I can't be talking about this with you."
HIs lovely brown eyes narrowed, "Obviously you aren't talking with your doctor either. Until you know how many and how large, how are you going to get treatment?"
I shrugged indifference. I would deal with it like I do everything else, denial.
"Bomber, if you plan on a pregnancy, the longer you wait, the more difficult it will be to conceive and carry."
Keeping on the same theme, I shrugged again. Bobby didn't know my "female" history and really wasn't going to discuss it with him. My periods had become longer and more painful. Spotting had begun a couple of months ago. Denial worked well in my life for many different scenarios.
Bobby was back. Holding up his phone, "Please."
Dang, the one word I cannot deny.
#
"I'm sorry Stephanie," the OBGYN said softly. "In light of your history and the findings here, I'm afraid you will never traditionally bear children. Your fibroids are advancing plus the Fallopian tubes are too scared.
"Isn't there something?"
"As we discussed last time, a change in eating habits might work for the fibroids. Remember no red meat, no alcohol, and lots of fruits and vegetables?"
The red meat wasn't an issue except for my mother's pot roast, oh and meat ball sandwiches. On my own I gravitated to pork especially as pepperoni and bacon. It was the vegetables and fruit that gave me problems. Veggies are green and I don't eat green. Fruits probably didn't include Pop Tarts.
"As for the Fallopian tubes, there's nothing left to work with. The only way to get pregnant now is through egg harvesting and implantation. But with your advancing fibroids and your age, I'm pretty sure you won't be able to carry the fetus. Early on the damaged Fallopian tubes might not have been severe enough. You might have been able to conceive when you were still in your early 20's."
That would have been with The Dick. The whole idea made me nauseous. I'm glad I escaped that catastrophe.
"Now your only course is surrogacy."
"That's expensive."
The doctor sat back, "For some the desire for a baby overrides the costs. On average the costs run from $90,000 to $200,000 or more."
I looked at the doctor and suddenly started to laugh. It was not what the doctor expected. Most women are crushed to receive this news. This would be especially true for Burg women raised to believe pregnancy was their only career option. Plopping down $100,000 or more for a surrogacy pregnancy wasn't done mainly because of the cost. Joe didn't make that much money, but then I never wanted to bear a Morelli baby. "I have been on birth control since I was 16. Had I known, think of all the money I could have saved on condoms, pills, and shots."
The doctor didn't say anything, letting me continue.
"What are my options now?"
"There is a good chance you will need surgery soon."
"A hysterectomy?" I gasped. For certain that would not occur anywhere near the Burg. I could hear my mother now, "Mrs. Carlucci's daughter didn't have a hysterectomy until she produced three children."
"No, the first step should be the radical change in your diet we discussed. The second is embolization. It is shrinking the fibroids by eliminating their blood supply. Until we know exactly where and how many fibroids you have, a hysterectomy isn't off the table. By leaving the functioning ovaries, you will not undergo menopause and could still provide eggs for a surrogate pregnancy."
My mind is nimble but right now it was trying to juggle, rapid growth fibroids, radical diet change, blocked Fallopian tubes and embolization, and hysterectomy. I pushed it all under the rug to digest later. Time to deflect: "My mother has bugged me for years to get the baby machine started."
"I see," the doctor said blandly.
"No, you don't. It is because of my boyfriend and mother that I'm in this situation. He gave me the vicious STD years ago and she refused to take me to the doctor for treatment. The resulting PID closed the tubes. The fibroids are my own body's fault."
#
Dinner at the Plum house was the usual lasagna dinner. There was no salad or vegetable, the tomato sauce was considered enough vegetables. There were never edible greens on the table. Well, occasionally we'd have limb green beans or broccoli but nobody at them. As a result, the lasagna serving portions were huge. Great if you love lasagna but terrible on one's arteries.
Joseph Morelli arrived moments before the meal began descending like a vulture at carrion. His presence was to remind me I was not yet married and to produce babies for my mother to manipulate. Never mind my sister was on first-name basis with the stork recently dropping her fourth child.
I've known Joe all my life but aside from the choo-choo molestation at six in his father's garage and his forcefully taking my virginity at Tasty Pastry ten years later, we never dated and never socialized or spoke to one another. Joe ran with the boys whose sole purpose was to get into girls' pants. After the choo-choo and with a heavy dose of Catholic guilt, I stayed clear of him. It didn't matter. His bakery attack and subsequent bragging graffiti destroyed my reputation. Two years after I purposefully ran him over with my father's car. I was still mad at him. When my husband Dickie Orr cheated on me, instead of running him over with a Buick, I burned his clothing on the front lawn. My anger at men bloomed again.
After losing my job thanks to money laundering at my job in Newark, my cousin Vinnie hired me as a bond enforcement officer to go after those who missed their court dates. My first case was Joe Morelli. This time I was going to do more than break his leg. Jail time would barely soothe my rage. I found Joe Morelli and brought him back to justice, but unfortunately also proved him innocent.
Since our reacquaintance, we tried to become boyfriend-girlfriend, quickly agreeing there would be no "us," just convenient adult sex. We should have walked away after satisfying our itch. But somewhere his mind became clouded thinking I would make a good wife.
Marriage has always been a wishy-washy subject for me. Though the idea was planted in my brain from an early age, it never thrived. Marrying Dickie Orr was post-college graduate confusion and fear I was stuck living in the family home. "What next?" I asked myself. I was badly burned by Dickie Orr, but a small part of me hasn't given up entirely on marriage so I stuck it out with Joe. Soon I began to have serious questions about his fidelity. He had reason to question mine concerning Ranger.
Ranger entered my life as my mentor to catch Joe Morelli. In hindsight, I fell in love, well lust, with Ranger at our first meeting. I was lusting after him before I captured Morelli. After the case was closed, my hormones were firing high. I wanted Ranger but when Joe came bearing pizza and beer, I folded.
Joe and I never budged on our life differences. He wanted a stay-at-home wife with kids. I wanted nothing to do with being a stay-at-home wife or kids. He hated my job; I loved my job. He hated my strange friends; I am loyal to a fault. At one time I thought I loved Joe, but I realized it was passing, like intestinal gas.
Now, here we sit, opposite one another at my parent's dinner table since Grandma Mazur is in Atlantic City. As the artery-clogging meal is served, the stale litany from my mother on why I need to marry Joe begins. I smiled knowing what was coming. Mom noted my new expression.
"See, I knew you'd come around," she said joyfully. All you need to do is come up with a date and I will arrange the hall. We'll need to immediately reserve the church and start looking for a gown."
"I can't marry in the church. Remember Dickie? That disaster hasn't been absolved."
Mom was flustered, "I'm sure Fr. Michael will have some thoughts."
"Actually Mom, I am not marrying Joe, ever."
"What?! Your smile indicated you were. You can't wait much longer. Your eggs are getting old. You'll end up with Mongolian babies. It is harder for an older woman to get pregnant."
Mongolian? I'll blame the whiskey on that mistake. "Ma, it is impossible for me to get pregnant."
"Don't be ridiculous, you aren't that old." Then fear crossed her face, "Have you done something permanent? Did you get your tubes tied? How dare you embarrass me."
I tried not to roll my eyes. How does my reproductive health affect her Burg standing? And who would tell them? Silly question, she would, of course. Folding my hands on the tabletop, earning a glare from my mother for improper table manners, I began. "Let's go back to when I was sixteen working at Tasty Pastry. One afternoon, 18-year-old Joe Morelli waltzed into the bakery, forced me onto the floor, and forcefully took my virginity. The actual term is rape but that's too crass for the dinner table."
Joe looked at me with surprise and then caution. What was I up to? "You didn't fight back much."
I shot back, "I distinctly remember yelling no, pleading, and crying. It hurt and I was scared to death. For all, I knew if I refused you, you would beat me the way your father beat your mother." That caught him by surprise. Nobody talked about how Tony Morelli abused his wife and children. Turning back to Mom, I continued, "We were not dating or even talking to one another. Suddenly, I was his last conquest before he left for the Navy. After he left the bakery, he made certain to write about what happened on the men's restroom walls in the sub shop and on the stadium walls. Did you brag about all your other conquests in such a public manner?"
"Only you. I saved the best for last. I had to warn the other guys to keep their hands off you until I returned," he muttered.
"PFFT. You were in the Navy so didn't know the havoc you caused. Your warnings about sloppy seconds went unheeded. Suddenly I went from a nobody to every boy in the school wanting to get what Joe Morelli got. Between the phone calls, leers at school, and my prison guard mother, high school was hell."
My father had put down his silverware and was listening intently.
I turned back to my mother who seemed more interested in her 80-proof iced tea than listening to me, "When I got home, you already knew about the attack. The whole town knew as the phone was ringing informing me, I was fired from my job. The Burg Grapevine convicted me before I even had a chance to tell my side. You were livid, slapped me, called me a whore and slut, and locked me in my bedroom until I could prove I wasn't pregnant. I was never allowed to call the police or go to the hospital."
"If you were pregnant, you would have married Joe on his first leave," she replied as if the marriage was not to be questioned.
"It didn't matter to you I was in pain, terrible pain, but you yelled I deserved it for humiliating you. YOU! I was the one defiled, bleeding on the bakery floor. I spent my whole summer in that room even though I showed you the evidence I was not pregnant. You accused me of cutting myself and putting the blood on the pad. Finally, the pain was so bad, Mrs. Stankovic, Lenny's mother, took me to the doctor who diagnosed me with an aggressive STD. You went ballistic adding dirty and diseased to the names you were calling me. You told me I deserved the disease."
"You did. You spread your legs before marriage."
What a hypocrite, but now was not the time to reveal a family secret. "You refused to pay for the medication. Every cent I earned babysitting and working at Tasty Pasty that was supposed to go to my college fund, went for the doctor's visits and medications. Yes, visits. I was fighting two different infections. He didn't bother to contact me to tell me to get tested. After all, his dick is more important than my life."
My mother quickly scolded me, "Language young lady."
Dad interrupted. In a low voice I had never heard before, "Why didn't I know?"
"Frank, it was girl things," Helen tried to diffuse.
"It is MY daughter. My daughter was raped, and you refused her medical care because why Helen?" Dad's voice was suddenly loud.
Mom answered in an equally loud voice, "I didn't want everyone to know. What would the neighbors say? It's bad enough my daughter defiled herself and the neighborhood knew, but to no way, they were going to find out she was diseased."
"Now I understand why she hit him with the Buick. Too bad it wasn't a headshot." Dad glared at Morelli.
I sat back and was enjoying the new family dynamic. My father has never been one to speak up and my mother pretends to be Mrs. Prim and Proper. I'm grateful Grandma Edna is away as she would be taking perverse delight in this family interaction.
Daddy stared at Mom for several minutes trying to get control of his anger. He did not retreat as Mom assumed he would. His eyes narrowed and a look honed by the Army spoke, slicing like a K-Bar knife, "Are you remembering your past, Helen?"
I secretly gave myself an arm chuck. Go Daddy go.
"You were not the virginal princess when we met. You pulled me into the closet at the NCO club. How many other men did you drag in there? I'm still not sure Valerie is my daughter." Mom stopped suddenly. Before she could start screaming again, Dad shot her a look that would crumble stone. Softening his face, he looked back to me, Dad asked in a softer voice, "Why didn't you tell me, Pumpkin?"
"You were in Washington that summer," I said quietly. I knew Dad was still serving in some government capacity other than the Postal Service. I didn't think he was overseas but probably stuck in some ugly green Pentagon office doing secret stuff.
"Go on," he urged.
Mom was back, "This is not proper dinner conversation."
"Put a cork in it, Helen," he shot back. "You don't know what is proper unless it bit your ass. This must be discussed here and now." Looking back at me, he waited as I continued my story.
Joe Morelli was inching across his seat as if to escape. Dad didn't miss the movement. "Sit still, mister," Dad ordered as he reached across and grabbed Joe's arm. Surprisingly, Joe complied. I had always admired Dad's forearms, maybe he was stronger than I believed.
"The initial pain was from the…. ah… incident. It was a …. ah…," I winced, "a dry rape. I was bruised and torn inside. Since I did not see a doctor, there were no antibiotics to counter the developing infection. The pain got worse. Mom said it was my punishment. The infection from the physical damage and Chlamydia led to Pelvic Inflammatory Disease. Since it took so long to cure, my Fallopian tubes are permanently scarred. I can never bear children."
"What?!" Joe and Mom yelled simultaneously.
"I found out a few days ago. Thanks to these two," I said pointing my fingers at Mom and Joe, "I am sterile." I decided to leave out the fibroids, it would only complicate the issue.
Daddy was on his feet quickly and delivered a right cross to Joe that sent him sprawling across the floor. "You and your dirty dick. Had I known I would have killed you."
Mom started screeching. Some of the words would make a longshoreman blush. Finally, Dad had enough. "Shut up Helen. You are the most pathetic example of a woman, mother, and wife. All because you believe you are something special shit in this cesspool called the Burg, you endangered MY daughter's life. There is no forgiveness for such treachery. You will leave this house with this Morelli filth and never return."
"Frank, Joe is willing to marry her even with her reputation."
"Not anymore, she's useless to me," Joe said as he regained his senses and rubbed his jaw. Joe was starting to stand when my father turned, threw the man against the wall, and delivered an impressive gut punch, When Joe bent from the hit, Dad finished off with an uppercut. Joe, the brawler, and Navy boxer was no match for a furious father and former Army Special Forces. Joe slid down the wall to the floor, stunned with blood coming out of his nose and mouth, spitting out a few teeth. Yeah, Dad had strong forearms, but I suspected he was also ripped under his shirt.
Mom's screeching was so loud I wanted to put my fist into her mouth, but Dad saved my manicure. With one arm he brought my mother to her feet, walked to the slowly recovering Joe, picked him up with his other arm, and walked both the front door. I followed and opened the front door. With a hardy shove, Dad sent both out the door, across the porch, and down the steps where they both crumbled to the pavement. Mom's screech was enough to bring the neighbors to their windows. "What are you doing, Frank?"
In a loud commanding voice, he answered for her and all the neighbors to hear, "I'm throwing out the cold-hearted drunk trash I married. As for that other piece of refuse, he's no better than his disgusting father. Joseph Anthony Morelli, never come to this house again, never speak or touch my daughter, never talk to that trash next to you, or face the consequences." Dad turned and stormed back into the house slamming the door loud enough the neighborhood could hear.
"Draw the drapes and turn up the television, Pumpkin. It's likely to get loud," Dad ordered but in a quieter voice.
I peeked out the window and watched Joe stagger to his truck and quickly drive off, his truck tires squealing. Not one part of me wanted to run after him. Instead, I worried he would file a complaint against my father.
Mom crawled to her large ceramic planter at the base of the steps, pulled out the flowers in their pot, and reached into the planter. When her hand emerged, she had a whiskey bottle. After twisting off the top and taking a healthy swig, she began screaming, "Frank, Frank! How dare you throw me out of MY house."
Dad stormed out the front door and said loudly, "YOUR house? Nowhere is your name on the property deed. I paid and continue to pay for EVERYTHING in this house including your liquor. You own NOTHING! You are worth NOTHING, not as a wife, mother, or human being. I'm finalizing divorce papers."
It was a late summer day, and windows were open, so the neighbors got the full show. Several came outside and stood on their porch watching.
Dad walked to the kitchen to place several calls. The first was to his friend Joe Juniak explaining what happened and how he threw both out of the house. Joe, a good friend of my father and former chief of police could smooth over any repercussions from Morelli. The second call went to Dad's attorney. "Finish those divorce papers. Let's get the ball rolling." The third call went to his niece Shirley Gazarra also known as Shirley the Whiner and Shirley the Keeper of the Burg Grapevine. She was also the wife of Eddie the police officer. After ten minutes with Shirley explaining everything, he heard and did this night along with added anecdotes from his marriage, he hung cup. He made one more call, this time to Lenny Stankovic. Lenny will get the word out to the Grapevine's male contingency.
I was upset. "Why did you call Shirley and Lenny? Now everyone in the Burg will know my secret."
"Pumpkin, Joe will spread his version and slant it to benefit him. I'm getting out ahead. Shirley and Lenny will make sure the Burg knows exactly what happened before Joe has a chance to start talking, though it might be a while. I do believe I broke his jaw. If you lose your privacy, let it be for the truth, not lies. Joe Juniak is contacting the current police chief to ward off trouble from the Morellis."
"Do you think Morelli will file charges?"
"Maybe, but now is not the time to worry about that."
"What about Mom? Are you going to let her back in?" Mom's pleading and pounding on the door continued.
"Nope. Had I known what happened nineteen years ago, I would have ended this travesty years ago saving us from her rants. Perhaps you would not have married that horse's ass Orr or gotten involved with Morelli. Hell, maybe Valerie would not have married Steve. Gads, what was I thinking when I married her?"
"She was pregnant, and you were doing the honorable thing. You thought the baby was yours."
Dad froze with a look of incredulous on his face. "You knew?" Why do parents assume the deceptions they created for their children would continue for decades?
"I had my doubts. Val carries no resemblance to Mom and barely to you. I found your marriage certificate. You two have been fudging the actual date."
Dad started cleaning the dinner table but paused and sat down. I sat next to him. Perhaps all the family's dirty secrets would finally be aired. "I met her at the NCO club on Dix. It was a holiday party and Helen Mazur was definitely partying. She used a false ID stating she was twenty-two, not an eighteen-year-old college freshman." He chuckled. "If she had been caught, it was a federal offense. I found myself in the janitor's closet with her, but I was not the first one that night. My cousin Valentino was also there." He looked off and shuttered. How different would his life have been if he hadn't gone into that closet? "Since I used a condom and it was intact after, I never thought about her again. Two months later I was at Bragg in North Carolina when I received a call from Helen Mazur telling me she was pregnant. I had just come back from my cousin Valentino's funeral. When she told me she was pregnant, I was 95% certain it wasn't mine, but I agreed to marry her thinking the child could be Valentino's and still my family. After our marriage, I returned to Bragg, and she returned to her parents to await the baby. When Valerie was born, I was in the hospital in Texas after an incident in Honduras. The Army gave me a choice, stay or be discharged. Helen insisted I return and make a home here in the Burg. We compromised, I went into the reserves, called up as needed."
"Did you have Val tested?"
"No. Tests were very expensive back then"
"Your cousin could be Val's bio-dad."
"There are mannerisms Val has that are like his. He was blond like Val."
"Am I your bio-daughter?"
Dad looked surprised. "She never told you?"
"What?!"
Seeing my panicked expression, he calmed me, "Relax, you are mine but nearly weren't. I am an Rh-positive blood type, and Helen is negative. If the fetus is positive, the mother's body starts attacking the fetus' red blood cells. Val had a problem at birth. The doctors warned Helen after the first pregnancy she should not have more children. Since I was away, she didn't think I needed to know. When you were born, you needed an immediate blood transfusion. The doctors were adamant no more children. I quickly got a vasectomy as Helen was distraught, she didn't have a son. I was afraid she might try again."
"I don't see why you are sure I'm yours."
"The Rh problem was my first hint, but when I started the divorce papers, my attorney insisted I get proof you are mine. I had your DNA tested against mine. You left your hairbrush here after spending the night. I took hairs from there. You are my bio-daughter."
"Did you ever love Mom?"
"I agreed to marry your mother knowing there was a good chance the baby was not mine. When she was born, I fell in love with the little girl and considered her mine and raised her as such. She is my daughter, and her children are my grandchildren. After you were born, Helen changed. You were not a son, and I was to blame as were you. She's been blaming us ever since. Thank heavens I never told her I had a vasectomy. That would have intensified her wrath."
I needed to think about two different men, my father, and Ranger, and how they handled the unexpected pregnancy. Both marriages might have been short due to the man's military death, yet one stuck it out enduring misery. The other went on with his life. My mind needed time to sort out the two situations. Were one right and the other wrong? No, I'm not my mother where everything is black or white.
Mom's pounding on the door grew less intense. "If you don't let her in what will the neighbors say?" I caught myself and suddenly started laughing. That was exactly what my mother has been saying for years. Dad also was startled at what I said but began laughing with me. "Don't scare me Pumpkin." He looked around and then said, "I'm going upstairs to start packing. I will not live with her. Joe Juniak has offered me a bedroom for a few days until I can get my cabin ready for full-time occupation. The divorce process will take time, the time I will not spend here."
There was a polite knock on the front door. I peeked out and saw Eddie and Big Dog with their police cruiser on the street. "We have received complaints about a drunk and disorderly woman in the neighborhood. I assume it is Helen over there."
Dad appeared at my side, "Let her sober up in the drunk tank."
"Frank are you sure you want me to do that?"
"Eddie, this marriage is over and has been for years. I've had it with her denigrating Edna, my daughter Stephanie, granddaughter Mary Alice, and me. I learned tonight she put my daughter's health and life in jeopardy for her self-interests. I've pled with her to get help for her drinking, but she blames everyone else. Maybe then she will accept the treatment she needs."
I glanced out and saw Mom nearly passed out sitting in the neighbor's yard against their car. Several neighbors had migrated down the sidewalk and were standing off from Mom, gawking. "What the hell are you looking at? Go home and mind your own business," she slurred. Mrs. Grimaldi walked away laughing, "You are one to talk, Helen. Who is the disgrace now?"
As Mom was carted off in the police cruiser, Dad wrapped his arms around me, "End of an era, end of the abuse. We both need counseling to heal our wounds after her shredding."
I was going to argue with him, but I knew he was right. Thirty-four years of emotional abuse and living in denial had left me battered. Only my stubborn nature kept me from falling deeper into the Burg mire. I turned in his arms, "I think the time has come for me to start flying."
"And I'll be your biggest cheerleader, Pumpkin."
Chapter 2
The incessant phone ringing at the Kloughn house drove Valerie to her whiskey supply. She was horrified to hear the latest Burg gossip. Her father threw her mother out of the house, literally. Helen Plum and Joe Morelli ended up in a tangled heap at the bottom of the porch steps. Such actions were anathema in the upstanding Plum home.
Valerie was at first incensed at her father. How dare a man disrespect his wife in that manner, but when Val called Mary Lou Stankovic and learned the reason for Frank's action, she was dumbfounded. Her mother had refused medical care for her sister placing her position in the Burg above her daughter's health.
The telephone continued ringing. After the seventh call, Val's temper exploded when Mrs. Carlucci, across the street from the Plums said the police had shown up and taken Helen away. "You should have been here and done something," the busybody chided Valerie. In a sign of unusual strength, Valerie replied, "It is a matter between my father, mother, and the police. If you don't approve, shut your drapes."
"Well, I never…." Gasped the Burg neighbor. Valerie realized her standing in the Burg just fell. At the moment she has other concerns.
Val poured her whiskey into a glass and sat down after first turning off the phone. Letting her mind wander back to when she was eighteen and Stephane was sixteen. Val remembered her summer job in Asbury Park and living with her aunt and uncle. Her father was in Washington, her grandparents were vacationing in New England leaving Stephanie and her mother alone. Stephanie's after-school job at Tasty Pastry was full-time for the summer. In the fall, Val returned home to start community college, but her mother had the nice attorney, Stephen, over for dinner. Val attended only one semester of college before discovering she was pregnant. A quick wedding was held on Valentine's Day and by the end of summer, Angie arrived. Soon thereafter the family moved to California.
During the wedding preparations, Stephanie was pushed to the background. She was unusually quiet, spending more time in her room or at Mary Lou's. Val thought it proper to include her sister in the wedding though they had never been close. Her mother fought vigorously against including Stephanie. Burg busybodies whispered, "Of course, she won't have her sister in the procession," but Val thought nothing about it as she was wrapped up in her glorification. It wasn't until Val returned from California after years away from the Burg did she begin to appreciate Stephanie's generosity yet her mother continued to speak harshly to her and about her. What was her mother's complaint? Stephanie had not yet remarried.
After months in the Burg mire, Val's thoughts once again aligned with her mother's. Stephanie needed to quit her job, marry Joe, and start a family. Any deviation from the Burg creed required correction. Already Mary Alice was showing the same disrespect for tradition her sister showed.
Valerie mimicked her mother's disapproval of the second child's actions. Not long after her marriage to Albert, he calmed her down by claiming he enjoyed a daughter with spunk, who didn't try to placate everyone. He wished he had half of her imagination and drive. What he didn't say is Mary Alice is much like Stephanie and he has always had a soft spot for his sister-in-law.
Helen continued to badger Valerie to keep her second granddaughter in tow. Just last week Val had enough and told her mother, "I am her mother and I decide what is proper, not you and not the Burg." Her mother shot back, "I didn't raise you to disrespect me." Lobbing back, Valerie replied, "Why are you the only one who deserves respect? I am an adult and the mother of my children." Helen retreated to her cabinet for a drink.
Realizing she was missing information, Val called Mary Lou back to learn more. Mary Lou was precise, Joe raped Stephanie and gave her an STD. It was Lenny's mother who took Steph's medical attention months later. The sterility was something new but Mary Lou wasn't surprised Stephanie had been fighting woman's problems for years, "Valerie, to this day your sister insists Joe always wear condoms. She says she's avoiding pregnancy, but I suspect deep down she remembers the STD plus she's not sure Joe is monogamous. Lenny has proof he is not, but we have not told her."
"But she loves Joe."
"No, she loves the idea of being loved since she has had so little at home. She's still courting her mother's favor but isn't willing to throw herself on the pyre of Burg or Morelli's wife."
"What about Ranger?"
"She loves him with her heart and soul, but he says he's not into relationships, only friendship. They keep each other at arm's length. They are not that sexually active."
Val was confused. Was her whole life a lie? She believed the Plums were a loving family to be emulated. Her mother ran a perfect house and had a standing in the Burg, or so she thought. Her father was quiet, bringing home a paycheck and tended the outside chores. The only blemish was her sister… according to her mother.
A sudden rap on the back door broke the house's silence. "Valerie, it is your father. Please open the door." Albert had come into the kitchen and looked at Val who hadn't moved. "Well?" He asked. Val shrugged. Albert unlocked the door, "Frank, is something wrong?"
Valerie murmured behind Albert, "You can say that." Seeing the expression on Val's face, Frank went to his daughter, "What have you heard?"
Valerie composed herself. If she hadn't talked to Mary Lou, her tirade against her father would have been noteworthy. Now it came out, "I'm confused."
Since Albert had joined them, Frank detailed the evening's dinner conversation and explosive finale. Looking at Albert Frank sighed, "If I need an attorney for the attack on Morelli, I don't think I can hire you as you are family." He left unsaid that he didn't think Albert would be the best selection either.
"I understand. We've talked about this when you were seeking divorce advice."
Val's eyes shot wide open. "You are divorcing Mom over this?"
Patting her hand, "It is not this incident but years of her abuse. It's been a long time coming. You come to the house for dinner and hear her tirades, I must hear them all the time."
"She also rants on the phone about Steph."
Frank snorted, "I imagine Edna and I earn our thrashing. Last week you must have said something because you got some cabinet slamming."
Val nodded. "Yeah, I spoke up about her shamming the girls, especially Mary Alice." Then looking at her father, "Why now?"
"Tonight, Pumpkin dropped the bomb about what happened years ago with Morelli and the pastry shop. I couldn't believe a woman could be so cruel to deny her child medical care because it impacted her standing in the pathetic Burg. I also learned from Pumpkin tonight, Helen refused to take her to the hospital when she broke her arm. Harry and Edna took her."
Val's eyes shot open, "Wasn't it Mom's responsibility?"
"When has your mother ever accepted responsibility for her actions? It is always someone else's fault. 'What will the neighbors think?'" Standing up and going to the sink for water, Frank returned, somewhat calmer. "It's taken me a long time to come to grips with my marriage. It was never a love marriage, but an obligation. Helen was pregnant."
Val snorted, "Takes two to tango."
"I admit I was with Helen Mazur that night at the base, but I wasn't the only one. I used a condom and believed it remained intact. Imagine my surprise two months later hearing from the woman saying she was pregnant. I couldn't prove it was mine but married her anyway. Val, I don't know if you are my biological daughter, but from the moment you were born, you were mine. Never doubt my love for you."
Valerie sat back suddenly. "If I'm not yours, who do you think is my father?"
"Sweetheart, I am your father. As for the sperm donor, I don't know who all Helen visited that night, and she may not know either. She was quite the party girl. I'm assuming I am as there is some Plum resemblance, but my cousin Valentino was also with her that night."
"And she calls my sister a whore, what a hypocrite," mumbled Val. Looking up at her father, "Have I ever met your cousin?"
"No, he died when his helicopter crashed in training soon after."
"But my name… she must have suspected."
"Let it go, Val. You'll get yourself tangled up in 'what ifs.' Concentrate on today and tomorrow."
"What am I going to do?"
"Why do you need to do anything? You are alive, I raised you, I love you, and we are family. Live your life, be your children's mother and Albert's wife. You can't change anything."
"Except the way I see my mother. Is Stephanie your daughter?"
Frank looked off and nodded in affirmative. "I was pretty sure at her birth when there was the blood Rh factor. You were born anemic, but not seriously so. Pumpkin needed an immediate transfusion. Helen never told me there were problems with any future pregnancies. Plus, Pumpkin looks like my mother. When I started working on the divorce papers, I went to Rangeman and talked to their medic, Robert Brown. I asked if he could do a DNA test without alerting Stephanie. He collected the specimens and send them to a lab. I am her bio-Dad. He said he would test you if you wanted, but know no matter what the tests show, I have been, am, and will be your father."
"I will think about having the test. Thank you for giving me the option."
Albert spoke up, "If Joe comes after you for assault, know there are some problems with his record."
Val quickly asked, "What problems?"
"Joe has had some reprimands at work. He's been skating on thin ice this last year. He's a brawler and has been kicked out of several bars. His supervisor ordered him to do alcohol counseling. It didn't take. Also, his association with Theresa Gilman has raised eyebrows. As for his relationship with your sister, the fact they aren't married after all these years might be some indication, he's not all he appears to be. He's constantly yelling at her in public. Don't you listen to him and your mother at the dinner table? He and your mother are verbally condescending."
"But Joe and Steph are engaged."
Frank shook his head, "No Val. There has never been an engagement or ring. The engaged-to-be-engaged garbage was their deflection when Angie found them mostly undressed. Unfortunately, your mother picked up on it and spread it all over town. She purposely left off the second part, 'to be engaged' only saying engaged."
"How long have you known?"
Frank smiled, "Nearly from the beginning. I was waiting to see if Pumpkin agreed to an engagement, then I was going to open Joe's box of evil. Ever since his testicles descended, he's been satisfying his itch throughout the Burg and beyond. He was recently ordered to start paying child support for a daughter in Levittown., Theresa Gilman is one of his regular bimbos, but there are currently several others. We cabbies keep an eye on him. I've never liked that boy…never." Rubbing his hand he added, "I enjoyed decking the horse's ass."
Valerie went to sip her whiskey when her father reached across and touched her arm, "Please give that up. Your mother was drinking before we got married. I don't want to see you become an alcoholic."
"Mom's not an alcoholic. She just tipples."
Albert snorted. Val and Frank looked at him puzzled.
Looking at Frank and his wife, Albert asked, "You don't know?"
Both shook their head no.
"She received her third DUI two days ago. Her driver's license will be suspended for a year."
Frank and Val jumped to their feet, "What?!"
Frank put his hands on his hips least he knocks a hole in the wall. He was deeply breathing while looking at his shoes. His voice was quiet. "I knew about the first one seven months ago. I took away her car keys." Looking up at Albert, "When were the other two?"
"I think the second was in Lawrenceville about a month ago. Then the last one here a few days ago."
"How do you know?"
"Stanley Baron is with State Motor Vehicle called me this afternoon. I haven't had a chance to talk with you privately Val. The girls needed to get to bed." Then looking at Frank, "Also I've been trying to call you this evening, but you aren't answering your phone. Now I understand why."
Valerie looked sick. "She's been picking the girls up from school. Well, that stops right now. How dare she endanger our daughters!" Val walked over to the sink and poured the whiskey down the drain. "What is wrong with her?" Then turning back to her father, "Why didn't you do something?"
Frank threw down a granite face, "What did you want me to do? I've asked and pled with her to go get help for her drinking and she'd start screaming. I've even threatened her with divorce, and she'd grow shriller. Short of tying her up how was I going to get her there?"
"So, divorcing her is the answer?"
"Don't think I haven't gone round and round with this. If she had gotten alcohol treatment and started counseling, I might have stayed with her. The big bomb was learning what happened to your sister. I will never forgive either of them. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself."
"What will happen Grandma?"
"Edna never wanted to move in with us, but Helen insisted. You know 'what would the neighbors think.' Now I realize Edna's been a good buffer between Pumpkin and Helen."
"Do you think she needs assisted living?"
"Who? Your mother or Edna? "
"Grandma."
"With her antics, they'd kick her out in no time. Let her enjoy her freedom while she can."
"And Mom?"
"I hope the court assigns her for alcoholic treatment and mental evaluation."
"Would you take her back if she got treatment?"
"Val, I've never loved your mother. I planned to stay until my daughters were settled. Stephanie still hasn't found herself. In the meantime, I tune the wicked witch out as much as possible."
Frank returned home and Val and Albert retired to bed. Nobody turned their phones back on so missed the call from Helen the next morning.
Chapter 3
I was hesitant to bring my FTA to the police station knowing the gossip about yesterday. I wish Lula would step up and pull her weight, no pun intended, and get over her police phobia and be able to walk into a police station. As I finished checking in Charlie Brashear, Eddy came up to me. "Steph, your mother has been trying to reach somebody to take her home. Valerie and your father aren't answering the phone. Albert is out of his office. Can you please get her out of here?"
"Is she sober?"
"Mostly but she's hung over. She has been ordered to attend AA meetings."
"Are there charges?"
"A misdemeanor public intoxication. She tried to argue if Frank hadn't thrown her out, it would not have been public. The judge pointed out she dug the whiskey out of the planter and downed the whole bottle outside, in public." Shaking his head, "She is really an accomplished drinker to be able to put that much down and remain conscious. She needs help."
I sighed, "Step one, admitting you have a problem."
I was just finishing up Mom's papers when I sensed danger. Sensing danger, I turned only to find myself flying across the room. My mother body slammed me to the ground, bouncing my head on the hard floor. Before I could move, Mom was grabbing my hair and screaming. I felt her yank my hair then nothing.
The insistent noise had me reaching for the alarm clock, but there was none. Instead, I became entangled in tubes. "Don't move Pumpkin," came my father's muffled voice. Was he wearing a winter scarf over his mouth?
Slowly I realized the noise was medical equipment. I was in the hospital again. My being in a hospital didn't answer why his voice was so muffled. "Dad?" I asked because I couldn't see him clearly.
"Pumpkin, thank God you are conscious."
"How long?" I croaked from a dry throat.
Dad held the cup with the straw for water. As I sipped, he answered, "You've been out two days."
While Dad talked, the doctor walked in, "Good. You are finally awake. I'm Dr. Donoghue."
I must have stared because he asked, "Ms. Plum, can you hear me?"
"Steph…"
He seemed satisfied, "Do you know where you are?"
"From the sounds I'd say the hospital."
He nodded then asked, "Do you remember what happened to land you in the hospital?"
I had no clue. "Car explosion?" It seemed a safe answer.
"No, it wasn't a car accident. What can you remember about Saturday?"
I must have looked bewildered. Nothing was registering. "What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
I started to shake my head no but grimaced from the pain of moving my head.
"Do you remember being in the police station?"
"No." This time I remembered not to shake my head. "When can I go home?"
The doctor broke into a big smile, "I was told that would be one of your first questions. The answer is, you are here at least overnight. We will reevaluate tomorrow. The amnesia may reverse by then."
At that moment two large men came into the room. They looked familiar dressed in black, not the doctor's white coat. The doctor turned, "Bobby you were right. Going home was her first question."
Bobby extended his hand to Frank, "Mr. Plum, we've met, I'm Bobby Brown, Rangeman medic and this is the XO, Tank Sherman."
Yep, those names sounded familiar along with Rangeman.
"Why are you here?" Frank was confused and didn't mean to sound rude.
"Bomber, er, Stephanie is covered by our insurance," Tank explained.
Frank's eyes opened. "I didn't know. She never said anything." Frank paused and continued, "It was probably best she didn't. Her mother would have a fit."
Why was I covered by a company I can't remember? I know I was squinting. My eyesight was fuzzy, and someone needed to turn down the lights. The doctor noticed and turned off the overhead lights. "Feel better?" He asked. This time my nod was tiny.
The big black man came over, "Little Girl, how are you feeling."
I squinted, not seeing clearly. Both men were dark-skinned, one more than the other. It was the larger of the two that spoke. "Ah… not real good right now." I turned back to Dad, "What happened?"
"Your head was slammed down on the ground."
"How?"
"Pumpkin, do you remember what you told us at dinner?"
"No. When, what dinner?" I couldn't remember so shut my eyes as if I was trying to sleep. It would give me time to recover my memory, I hope. Fortunately, everyone took the hint and left except for Dad.
The next day I was still fuzzy with a super-sized headache. "Do I get to go home today?" I asked my doctor.
"Before I answer your question, can you remember what happened to you?"
Was I trying to forget? Was it so bad it needed to be erased from my mind? "I still don't know. Do I have to have an answer to leave here?"
"No, it isn't important. What is important is your ability to stand and walk."
If that is all it took, I was ready to go and was certain I'd be alright. I have been in previous concussion incidents. "Let's give it a try. I'm ready to leave." I swung my legs over the bed and with the doctor's and a nurse standing nearby, I stood. "Argh," I moaned as the room began to spin and I started to fall. Once I was put back onto the bed, I began to weep. Would I be stuck here forever?
The doctor tried to calm me. "Stephanie, you have several serious head traumas. This time you have a skull fracture and internal bleeding. It may take a while for your balance to return to normal. Normally I'd keep you here another day or two, but since you are going to Rangeman under Bobby's care, you can leave later today. But if your dizziness or light sensitivity increases, you need to come back immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I answered simply but inside I was jumping for joy to escape this chamber of horrors.
The doctor wasn't done. "In reviewing your medical records, this isn't your first concussion. Brain injuries are cumulative. Right now, you are looking at developing long-term problems like TMI. If you were an MMA fighter, or boxer, or were around explosions I'd say time to step back and get a new job."
Suddenly I was feeling like I was 30 years old again, just let go from EE Martin, jobless. What was I going to do to make a living? I had rent, food, car insurance, I needed a job. Bounty hunting was all I knew. For sure I was not going to marry and become a housewife. I needed to work, but first I needed to mend.
I was released from the hospital to Bobby's care though I was still having a bit of trouble with balance and was light sensitive. Even in the best of times, I was not Miss Twinkle Toes and right now I was Miss "Where's the Handrail?" For the time being, I did the research for Rangeman in 3-hour shifts with an hour rest, horizontal, in between. Either Bobby, Les, Cal, or Tank walked me into my temporary apartment at Rangeman and made certain I was in bed or on the couch. If I thought my security companions were glorified babysitters, I was certain now. When my objections were particularly vocal, Bobby would have me walk a straight line, like a DUI road test. "Until you walk a straight line, you are stuck with us."
During this voyage on the tipsy boat, Dad, Valerie, and I were talking to a therapist. Val joined the party when she had Bobby do a DNA test which proved Dad was not her bio-father, but rather her cousin. It was Valentino's sperm that hit a home run that night many years before.
Overriding all this was Ranger was in the wind. Where he might have been the one to hug me and get me over all the hurdles, it was Dad and the Rangemen, the Core Team along with Hector. Tank laid it on the line with Vinnie, I could no longer do bounty hunting and risk another head injury. The transition from bounty hunter to office work was tough. Being locked up inside all day was like a prison. I lost my freedoms, but at least I still wasn't wearing pantyhose…for now. Tank mentioned, in time, I could be working in sales and client relations.
Chapter 4
Mom's second appearance before a magistrate didn't go as well as the first. Dad, Valerie, Albert, and I sat in the observation room watching the proceedings on CCTV. The judge began, "Mrs. Plum, due to your outburst and assault on another person…"
"It was on my no-good daughter…"
"… Helen Plum, I am remanding you to Trenton Psychiatric Hospital for evaluation and drinking disorder."
"I am not crazy nor am I a drunk. I only tipple. You would too if you had Stephanie for a daughter. All her life she had disobeyed me and shown no interest in learning her domestic responsibilities. She will never be a proper Burg woman like her sister. She is destroying the family name."
The judge was strongly in the Stephanie Plum booster club. She had watched the woman bounty hunter bring back FTAs while often decorated in the flotsam of the job. "Mrs. Plum, your daughter provides a valuable service to our community, while also contributing time and effort to the needy in town. Her generosity goes unrewarded by her choosing. Her compassion is known to many. Something I dare say you are not known for."
"She's a whore for those thugs," Mom butted in.
The woman judge didn't wince but shook her head. She had heard worse. Hopefully, the hospital staff could help this woman. The judge waved to the bailiff to lead Mom away. As she left the tirades against her family and the injustices being weighed upon her carried through the halls.
Once in our car, safe from gossip-gathering ears, Valerie began quietly weeping, "That wasn't my mother."
Albert spun her around and looked her in the eyes, "Yes it was. Haven't you listened to her berate Stephanie for…. everything? Your poor sister has never done anything right in her mother's eyes. Helen was trying to make her a Valerie clone just as you are trying to make our daughters clones. They are individuals and must be respected as such."
"If only Stephanie would…"
"What?! You are mimicking Helen. Can't you think on your own? Your mother has been filling your head with lies trying to manipulate you to do her bidding. Who gave up her apartment when we didn't have a place to live? Who arranged our wedding? Who has supported us monetarily when she hardly has the money for rent. Who drives a nice minivan while her sister drives junkers? Who finished college even though she had to fight her mother the whole time? You dropped out of college to get married exactly what your mother wanted. Your lavish wedding was financed by your college fund. Steph wanted an education which left little money for a wedding. But Helen demanded another big wedding to glorify herself. That's when your father started driving a cab for the extra income."
Val sat silent wondering who was this Albert and where did get all this information.
"Val, when you returned from home after the divorce, Helen welcomed you with open arms. When Stephanie tried to return, she was slapped, told to return to her cheating husband, and had the door slammed in her face. Then Helen started pushing your sister towards marriage with the man who raped her years before. Why? Helen believes all Burg women must be married and with children. Doesn't your sister deserve to live her own life and not one dictated by her mother and, sadly by her sister?"
Val sat quietly looking out the window. Her core beliefs were being shaken. Her mother's veil was being lifted and what was underneath wasn't pretty.
"Helen lives in a world where everything must be perfect to her standards. Let me ask, why do you make the girls change clothes when we go to the Plums for dinner? They aren't dirty or in torn clothes."
Val perked up, "It's the only time Mom compliments the girls which makes me proud."
"Does your mother compliment you at any other time?"
"No."
"Val, love, let's assume you bowled and rolled a perfect 300 game. What would your mother say? Would she be proud of you?"
Val huffed, "She'd say, 'Why does my daughter bowl? She is associating with those people. It is not proper. Mrs. Brankovic's daughter doesn't bowl." Val shuddered realizing she too could easily fail her mother's expectations and become to criticism.
Albert then asked, "Val when did your mother physically punish you? Did she ever spank or slap you? Did she lock you in your room for three months when you lost your virginity to Carl Costanza?"
Val hung her head, "No." Then she remembered the judge commenting on Stephanie's. "What did the judge mean about my sister's giving nature?"
Albert put his head back on the car headrest. "Your sister is more than a bounty hunter. When she finds out why people skip, she tries to help them. Maybe they didn't have transportation and couldn't get to court. She drives them to their next court appointment. She buys groceries for those who don't have enough food to last the month even if it means leaving peanut butter sandwiches for her. She is the most unselfish person I know but your mother and the Burg call her a failure."
Chapter 5
"Warning Will Robinson"
Violence and Character Deaths (hence the M story rating)
While Mom continued receiving care in the hospital, the divorce could not proceed. Since New Jersey does not have a legal separation, Dad must wait until Mom is declared mentally sound before the divorce can proceed. Initially, Dad planned to move to his fishing cabin, but Grandma Edna was left alone. They remained together in the family home until my mother could be rehabilitated.
My hopes of someday getting back to bounty hunting were dashed when Harry the Hammer caught Vinnie defrauding the business. Upcoming changes in bail bond laws in New Jersey would have put all bondsmen out of business in a few months. Vinnie tried to pad his retirement. Harry caught him. The second reason is my dizziness continues sporadically. I now work for Rangeman full-time. Joe Morelli would be happy I'm not bounty hunting anymore but wouldn't approve of my working for Rangeman. Fortunately, Joe disappeared from my life after the fateful dinner. A deal was worked out, he would not press charges against my father in return being able to return to his job when his jaw healed. Since I avoid everything Burg, I'm not around Connie and Lula, and have no reason to go near TPD, the gossip about me is tapering off.
I hope Ranger will be pleasantly surprised I am now a full-time employee once my dizziness is greatly reduced. When I accepted the job, I was given a limited special dispensation. My workouts are strictly supervised by Bobby to not strain my brain. My handgun proficiency remains iffy with occasional dizziness. At least I learned to set the weapon down when I started getting fuzzy. I am not proficient but also haven't shot my toe.
Tank stepped into my small office as I was busy researching new clients. "Little Girl, are you moving in here tomorrow?"
Commuting between my apartment and Rangeman with my off-and-on dizziness wasn't a great idea. I was relying on others to drive me since the city bus didn't go where I needed it to go. Dealing with my brain injury and the resulting loss of freedom weighed heavily.
"Yes. I'm finalizing everything tonight. I can't have Hal pack my underwear without fainting and no way I'm letting Lester near them." Tank laughed out loud, a lovely sound he did more often in my presence.
"By the way, Ranger will be back tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you here," he winked.
My heart leaped. I had endured these past months relying on the strength of my father, sister, Merry Men, and the Rangeman therapist. I felt strong for the first time in years and was ready to have a long conversation with Ranger about our future. If he wanted to keep his "friends only" stance, fine. Gone is the need to marry to reproduce since it is no longer an option. I didn't need to please my mother or anyone in the Burg for the first time in my life. My whole attitude towards relationships and commitments was evolving.
Sorting through my possessions didn't take that long. Thanks to frequent break-ins and firebombs, I had a semi-regular Marie Kondo-type reorganization. I've lost weight so many clothes were too big, but most of the shoes made the cut, I kept a few items for distraction outfits if I'm ever allowed to do those again. The rest were Rangeman uniforms. I smiled; my closet will look like Ranger's with so much black. Domestic stuff like cookware was virtually nonexistent. I would splurge on new items once I was in the apartment.
I was tucked into bed early when I sensed someone in my bedroom. My spidey sense was going crazy, my heartbeat rapidly increased. Was it Ranger? No, there was danger here, but before I could grab my gun, someone was on top of me. I tried to scream but the hand across my mouth muffled the scream. Suddenly a fist was pounding my face. "You good for nothing whore! You ruined me!" The voice was a very drunk or drugged Joe Morelli. What sewer did he crawl from?
My t-shirt and boxers were cut from my body with a large knife. It must be a two-sided knife as I felt the sting. When did Joe start carrying a knife? Blows rained down on my chest and abdomen. I bucked and rolled, biting hoping to reach my handgun. When I found it, he took it from me and began beating me with it. All I had were my hands and I scratched his face trying to gouge out his eyeballs. That didn't last long as he slid his hands over my neck and applied pressure. I passed out. When I came to, he was ramming himself into me and biting me, like a cannibal. "A worthless whore like you needs to die with her legs spread." When he ejaculated, he partially collapsed to my side. I took the opportunity to roll onto the floor and try to get to the front door. He was going to kill me. All my adrenaline wasn't enough to overcome the pain. Soon he was right behind me. "All right now. Finally, you offer me your ass."
Before that humiliation, I found a flower vase left unpacked and tried to smash him. I was partially successful. Stunned, he stopped allowing me a perfect strike on his nose. If I had more power, I would have driven the cartilage into his brain. Instead, I was rewarded with blood spewing all over him and me. His pants were still bunched around his ankles leaving him unbalanced as he reeled from the hit. I had a golden opportunity to send his boys into his throat. As he fell, I heard a clunk. The pain to his boys was so great, he didn't notice his handgun fall from the back holster on his pants. I rolled and grabbed the gun with my left hand. He dove on me fighting for possession.
The handgun's recoil was partially muffled by our bodies' closeness. Joe jerked upward, tottered, but before he collapsed back on me, I rolled. Our legs were tangled together, so I kicked to free myself. My chest felt like glass was cutting me from the inside. Having had a broken rib or two before, I knew I was in for big-time pain. Crawling to the credenza by the front door, I pulled myself up. The car keys were in the dish. Grabbing them and a raincoat to cover my nakedness, I fled stumbled out the door to the elevator.
How arrived at Haywood, I don't know. The gate opened automatically, and I stopped the car and killed the engine. Ranger's Turbo was in its spot. Ranger was home! Holding my coat closed with one hand failing to notice the blood squirting from my hand, I entered the elevator and the door closed immediately beginning its rise. My mind was fuzzy, where was I going? Bobby, the Command floor, my new apartment, or Ranger? The door opened on seven.
Using the fob, I opened the door failing to notice I was leaving a blood trail behind me. Each step was difficult as it was hard to breathe and see. My head pound as it had when my mother slammed my head to the ground. The low lights were still on in the apartment, and I noted three dinner settings had not been cleaned off. Maybe he had dinner with Tank and Lester. I continued on to the bedroom, using the hall wall for balance.
The far bedroom lamp was on the lowest setting, good he was still awake. I wanted to call out, but before I could I saw three bodies engaged in sex on the bed. One was a blond woman, the other two were men. Ranger was one. I looked away quickly. My heart was shattering as my breathing became more rapid. I couldn't stay, I had to leave. Out the door my hand slapped the call button, leaving a red handprint like a kindergarten painting. The elevator was already on 7 so opened immediately. I had to flee. Once again, I caught a boyfriend or husband in a compromising situation. Did the other Merry Men know and were downstairs laughing at me?
What is wrong with me? Why is my heart broken so many times by people who profess to love me? My mother, husband, and boyfriends have all treated me like the proverbial Punch Me doll of old. A clown to all with a smiling face who gets slapped down but bounces right back up. This time there is no rebound. Joe is dead in my apartment, my mother is in a mental health facility, Dickie is in prison after yet another illegal financial scheme, and now Ranger has found new entertainment. This clown is down for the count.
All my illusions were gone, destroyed, I had nothing. As I staggered from the elevator, I saw Ranger's cars. My life in those lovely cars and the owner were over. No more rich leather, no more raw power, it was gone forever. These were the cars that represented Ranger perfectly; dark, powerful, beautiful, and sexy I reached out to touch the 911 one last time and noticed Joe's gun was still in my left hand. Without thinking, I raised my left hand and brought my right hand up for a two-fisted grip, but something was wrong. My trigger finger wasn't there. No matter, Ram taught me to shoot left-handed. Standing less than three feet away, I couldn't miss. Each shot jerked my arm, sending jolts of pain through my body. As I sank to the concrete floor I heard, "BEAUTFUL!" No, not Beautiful, not Babe, not Bomber, I was nothing, a failure, failed to thrive leaving only a broken shell behind.
Lester
Steph's car approached the security gate. Maybe she couldn't sleep and was moving items to her apartment on four. I wanted to watch her ascend but my eyes were diverted to a situation at one of our accounts so automatically programed the elevator for the seventh floor. Shots were fired at the account on call ramping up my attention. What team was the closest? TPD needed to be contacted. My next chance to get back at the internal monitors I saw Steph emerge from the elevator in the garage. She was stumbling. I yelled for relief at the monitor, Bink said he could watch his displays as well as mine. As I crashed through the door, I heard gunfire. Drawing my weapon, I inched around the wall in time to see her firing into Ranger's 911. I screamed, "Beautiful." She looked up, her hair in disarray, face covered in blood. Had she been hit by a recoil bullet? Was there someone in or near the car?
I screamed at the monitor, "Code One Red. Call Bobby, get EMTs here STAT." I knew Bink was probably ahead of me and help was on the way. I did a quick recon of the area, only finding Beautiful slumped onto the ground.
Sliding to the ground next to her I carefully rolled her over. Her face was beaten, but worse, blood was frothing from her mouth indicating her lungs were filling with blood. Her raincoat fell open revealing her naked body covered in blood like her face. I ran my hand over her body trying to find a bullet wound. I did find a long knife wound on her lower abdomen and several places of torn skin as if she had been bit. Where was all this blood coming from? Bobby slid next to me dressed only in boxer shorts. His hands joined mine. Pulling out the compresses for me to find and stem the flow, he brought out a blood pressure cuff. Raising her right arm, we noticed her index finger hanging by a tendon, blood pooled underneath. The stethoscope was on her chest, her abdomen, and her sides. Raising one of the compresses from her chest, I noticed her breast nipple was missing and blood oozed from the wound. Her breathing became shallower, and less blood came from her mouth. "Bobby?" I had watched people die and knew Beautiful was moments away from the end.
His usually blank face fractured, and he sobbed. "I can't. She's s hemorrhaging inside. Keep talking to her." Through tears, I told her how much I loved her. From the first time I saw her years ago at the remodeling mission, I wanted a life with her. Bobby kept his stethoscope on her bloody chest. "She's gone." I let out a scream. My Beautiful, my love, was gone.
Tank stood nearby in his boxer briefs. Noting the handgun beside her and the holes in the Porsche, "Did she do this?" I nodded my head affirmatively. Hal showed up, also in his boxer shorts. At any other time, it would be humorous to see the teddy bear motif. Holding out an emergency blanket, he said, "Cover her. Nobody should see this." The bloody body now crumbled on the garage floor had been our life light, Stephanie, Bomber, Beautiful, mi Hermana.
Sirens announced the arrival of the police and EMTs. One EMT jumped from the bus, "Bobby?"
Bobby had tears coming down his face and shook his head no. "Lemme look." Jacob Larson, pulled back the blanket and gasped, "Is that…. Bombshell?" Her face was so badly beaten it was hard to tell. Looking further, Jacob sucked, "Jesus, it looks like she's been beaten to death…and eaten." I noticed more bite marks, many deep with skin hanging open. No wonder there was so much blood.
Eddie and Big Dog came over. Both groaned, "Oh God, no." Eddie said he'd contact the coroner.
Tank shook himself back to reality, "I need to tell the boss."
I didn't know what happened to her, but her rage on the Porsche was evident. "Hell no! She was up there. Look at his car. Something happened." Eddie turned to Tank, "Hold off. We need more people for an investigation."
I sat several feet away from Beautiful, wrapped in another blanket. I couldn't leave her body. Tears silently dripped down my face. It was just past midnight when Stephanie Plum was officially declared deceased, and her body taken to the morgue.
"Is this her handgun?" Asked the homicide detective noting the Glock near the body.
Tank looked over. "No, she owns a Sig and a Colt." He hoped it wasn't Ranger's. Suddenly the need to check on Ranger was paramount. Before he could mention it, a crime scene investigator noticed the blood inside her car. "She drove here bleeding. There's a blood trail leading in and out of the building."
Tank
The homicide detective, two crime scene investigators, and I followed the blood trail to the elevator. Opening the doors, we noticed even more blood. "This stays on lockdown." said the detective.
Walking up the seven stories to Ranger's apartment, wevfound more blood evidence Stephanie had been there. The wall had blood stains as if Stephanie used her right hand to support herself.
"Do you want me to knock or open it?" I asked the investigator. "This may be a crime scene. Open it." Even in the low ambient light, the blood on the floor and wall was visible. It led to the bedroom door where it puddled as if she stood for a while. The trail did not continue into the room.
In the bed were three people, two men surrounding a woman. All were sleeping. The crime detective retraced his way to the foyer and called for backup to use the stairs.
When four more officers arrived, they entered the bedroom and woke the sleepers. Ranger awoke instantly and reached for his handgun. "Police, drop it Manoso." I flipped on the lights.
Facing six handguns pointed at the bed, Ranger remained where he was. The other two sleepers awoke. "What the fuck Tank. What are the cops doing here?"
The detective answered. "We are conducting a murder investigation. A blood trail leads to your bedroom door." Ranger was confused but kept his mouth shut.
"For your safety and ours, we are going to handcuff you," said the lead detective. All the sleepers stood, naked, and were cuffed. After the bedside tables were searched and weapons removed, the three were allowed to sit on the bed, blankets covering them as necessary. Ranger's granite face was fully locked down as were the other two people. My instinct was the two guests were military trained to show no emotion.
Another investigation team went to Stephanie's apartment. The building supervisor, Dillon, was aroused at 2 am to open her apartment. "She's moving today," Dillon said sleepily. He opened the door and stepped back but saw the bare-ass Joe Morelli on the floor with his upper back blown open. His pants were still bunched around his ankles. The detectives noted his hands and face were torn and bloody. A glance around the apartment confirmed Dillon's claim. Boxes and bags were scattered around the apartment. Her bed told of the assault. The luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets Ella had given her knowing how she loved those on Ranger's bed, were blood splatter. A partial finger and bits of flesh were in the bloody mix. The blood was also on the furniture and walls indicating the severity of the beating. A Sig Saur handgun was still on the bed, covered in blood.
"Jesus," muttered the detective. "Call the captain."
It took until mid-morning to determine Rangeman was not a crime scene but rather where Stephanie came for help. The original crime scene was her apartment.
Frank had finished his early morning taxi runs and was sitting down to a new cup of coffee. Edna was putting laundry in the washing machine. Frank answered the knock on his door to find Eddie Gazarra, Joe Jankovic, and Al Stephenson, the current police chief. Frank groaned. This trio would not be here unless it was bad news. When told Stephanie was dead, Frank asked how. Eddie shook his head and simply said, "Joe Morelli." Frank pulled out his military training, stood firm, and asked, "Is he…?" Eddie nodded, "He's dead." The how didn't matter right now.
When news of Stephanie's and Joe's death hit the media, the Burg completely skewed the story thanks to the Morelli influence. The Grapevine blamed everything on Stephanie. The rest of Trenton understood Joe had broken into Stephanie's apartment and set on violent abuse and perhaps, murder. But, in the struggle, Joe was killed. Traumatized and badly injured, Stephanie ran to the only place she felt safe, Rangeman. Unfortunately, her internal injuries were grievous, and she died before an ambulance arrived.
The news media detailed Morelli's increasing alcohol and anger issues including disciplinary actions by the police force. He had been fired several days before the attack. No mention was made of Joe being attacked by Frank Plum weeks before.
Stephanie Plum's funeral was large. Though the funeral was not held in the Burg, many from the community came. Some came to gloat, but many were deeply saddened by her passing. Vito Grizzoli, Alexander Ramos, and Harry the Hammer, mob bosses who respected Stephanie and her work, were in attendance as well as a large contingent of Trenton police. The rich were there as well as the poor, those she helped ease their lives. All of the Trenton Rangemen were there as well as representatives from the corporation's other cities. Ranger sat separately. One's sexual needs are usually private, but the idea Stephanie's last moments were seeing her beloved Ranger in a compromising situation must have been heart breaking. Between the loss of him men's respect and Stephanie's death, he would soon leave Trenton, never to return.
Of course, the Morellis were missing from Stephanie's funeral. In a giant one-upmanship, they hurried Joe's funeral hoping to take the spotlight off Stephanie. It didn't work. Joe's viewing at Stiva's was poorly attended and the funeral in the church was strictly family. There was no police honor guard. The residents were waking up that Joe Morelli was truly his father's son, a drunk, abuser, and an attempted murderer.
Also missing from both Stephanie's and Joe's funerals was Helen Plum. When told of her daughter's death the week before, she laughed, "Good, she was useless." However, she did mourn Joe and tried to reach out the Angie Morelli, but the hospital staff kept her in isolation.
Before Stephanie's wake was complete, the police received an emergency call to the Psychiatric hospital. Police entered Helen's room and found her tied to a chair, her tongue and heart cut out. Surveillance cameras within the hospital and on the grounds found no intrusion.
The police suspected Rangeman and in particular, Ranger but surveillance cameras at the wake's location showed him sitting at the far wall drinking tequila, alone. Hector was also suspected but he too was seen the entire time. Maybe it was a mob hit. After an exhaustive investigation, the police realized several dozen people were possible candidates, but all could be accounted for including the hospital staff as Helen had not been a compliant patient. Her tirades were only stopped with heavy sedation. Her murder remained unsolved.
Joe Morelli's house, a gift from his Aunt Rose was burned by unknown arsonists. When Bella Morelli, the family matriarch learned Joe's house, a house her daughter has willed to Joe, was gone, she collapsed and was rushed to St. Francis hospital. As the family gathered at St. Francis, the two-story stand-alone Morelli family was heavily vandalized. Police had no leads. The Morellis, in total, moved to South Philadelphia and were not seen in Trenton again.
Frank and Valerie chose not to bury Stephanie. Her remains were cremated. It seemed wrong to intern her in the community that constantly harassed her. Her only happy place was Point Pleasant. One glorious October morning with the sun just breaking the horizon and coloring the sky in pinks, Frank Plum and Edna accompanied by two dozen Rangemen and Valerie began sprinkling her ashes. An offshore breeze kicked up sending a portion of the cremains eastward towards the rising sun. Frank smiled through his tears, "Fly free, Pumpkin, and Happy Birthday."
Sitting next to Cal on the beach watching the ceremony was a giant orange Wookie-like dog. How Bob became a Rangeman dog, nobody would discuss. With Ranger gone and Tank, an animal admirer in charge, the dog became the official Rangeman mascot along with an abandoned hamster Rex. At least Cal said it was Rex, but only he knew this was Rex II. The original was found dead in Stephanie's apartment the night she died. Quietly Cal replaced the little hamster when he brought him to Rangeman.
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