Navigating Nine Chapter 07

Disclaimer: I am not Janet Evanovich and the universe this story is set in belongs to her. No money is being made from this.

Note: Well, I had to torture Ellen somehow… and you know this is what would happen if Steph wasn't actually her daughter. A HUGE thank you to CSIQueen and everyone else for the kind reviews, emails, and support in general.

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I sat in the Wrangler, staring at my hands on the steering wheel. So pale. I needed to tan, desperately… or maybe it was the blood draining to somewhere else… I was shaking. I took deep breaths and tried to force myself calm. Soothing blue light, protective purple, energetic yellow, I conjured the sensations and color in my head, concentrating on anything but what had just happened.

That was it. I was officially never giving my name as Stephanie, ever again. Let people figure it out on their own, they didn't need any bloody hints. Moonbeam, Alyssa, it didn't matter, just anything but Stephanie. I didn't want to be Stephanie. Being Stephanie was getting me no where but torture pain and death.

I blanked out my mind and turned the ignition on. I wasn't due anywhere for awhile, I could go do something anything that would reinvigorate me. TriBro had just sucked months of my life, I was certain of it. So where would I go?

Wherever the Wrangler wanted to go, I decided as I pulled out of the lot and turned onto the street. I flipped on the CD player and cranked the volume until I was blasting the Scorpion King soundtrack. It was loud, angry, and clashing, plus it made it really hard to think. Just what the doctor ordered. And the mental images of The Rock in skimpy armor didn't hurt matters much either.

I wasn't overly surprised when my car pulled itself up to the curb outside Dad and Ellen's house. Actually, it was Grandma Mazur's house according to Val, and Dad just hadn't gotten around to buying a house here in Trenton yet.

I suspected he, like the Frank Plum of yore, was secretly hoping Grandma would cash in the old poker chips, as Janet liked to say. Although I wasn't completely sure of this because Grandma Mazur seemed more like Dad's type than Ellen did, except for her age.

I got climbed out of the Jeep and the door of the house opened to reveal Grandma Mazur herself, wearing what I hoped was a spiky red wig and a white velour jogging suit. Paint a blue stripe or two on her and she'd have made a great entry to the next forth of July parade. "Nice look Grandma," I said as I walked up the steps. "Very Tommy Hilfiger." On a bad day, when he'd been drinking too much Cristal, maybe…

"You look zombified," she said, eyeing me critically. "You been on a tough assignment?"

"I feel zombified." I sighed, and wondered whether it was worth it to explain again that although I lived with Batman I still had not become La Femme Nikita. Nah, why fight the impossible? "Rough as hell. I had to work in a factory all morning."

Grandma scowled. "What kind of assignment is that? You piss off your boss?" she asked as we headed into the house.

"Possibly," I admitted. "Where's daddy?"

"He had a lunch meeting, so it's just your mother and I. Val had to go to a parent-teacher conference about Mary Alice."

Oh, crap. I forgot about Ellen and I not speaking. I winced. "I could come back later."

"Don't be ridiculous, you two need to have it out. I'll keep my stun gun handy to referee."

I looked at her skeptically. Somehow I suspected this might call for something a little more powerful than a stun gun. Like maybe rhino-sized tranquilizer darts.

I was right. Stepping across the threshold of the kitchen was like stepping into an ambush.

Ellen turned to greet us and I could almost see the glacial frost slide over her features. "Stephanie," she said in disapproving tones, as if it were the name of some odious disease. I couldn't be offended, I was having my own distaste of that particular name at the moment. "How nice to see you."

Right; almost as nice as waking up to a fever blister the morning of a big date by the looks of it. "Hi, Ellen."

Grandma Mazur cleared her throat and brushed past me to start putting together a sandwich at the counter. "Well, don't stand there staring, fix a plate!"

Ellen's cold brown eyes dared me to move.

"Umm, I'm not really hungry. I just stopped by to talk to Dad," I said with an apologetic look at Grandma. Ellen let out a disdainful sniff.

"I liked that car you got," Grandma said over her. "Jeeps are so cute, I ought to get me one."

"You'd like it."

"You got a new car?" Ellen asked, with strained courtesy as she assembled her sandwich. I blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, Dad just—" I caught myself and cleared my throat. "Didn't he tell you?" Grandma turned around to give me a warning look but it was too late by half.

"Tell me?" Ellen's voice was shrill. "When would he have told me? It's not as though we're on speaking terms anymore," she bit out. I winced.

"Sorry, I didn't know—"

"No, you wouldn't would you? It's not as if you know what you could have put Valerie through! What you put me through! What you put your father through!" the volume rose with every word until she was yelling. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I felt a migraine begin to start.

"I'm sorry!" I said emphatically. "It wasn't my fault."

"It's never your fault is it, Moonbeam," she hissed. I choked and felt my chin dropping open. "God, you are just like your flake mother." Ellen sat her plate down on the counter so hard I was surprised it didn't break. "Get out of my sight. You aren't welcome and you aren't wanted."

She turned and faced out the window, refusing to look at me. I had been dismissed. I narrowed my eyes and was about to say something nasty when a sound just behind me caused me to spin around.

My father was striding through the dining room, his face thunderous and slightly reddened. His blue eyes blazed with something I had not seen since that awful day in that decrepit Johnson county courtroom so long ago.

I swallowed hard and stepped out of his way, but I wasn't fast enough. His hand snagged my arm, not rough but not letting go anytime soon as he dragged me into the kitchen. Ellen had turned around now and I could see something close to fear in the set of her shoulders. Grandma Mazur nodded a greeting to dad as she sat down at the table, munching on her ham sandwich and settling in for the show.

I glanced between Dad and Ellen, then down at where he held my arm. I was stuck until he wanted to let me out- Dad wasn't quite six feet tall, but he had the same muscle mass he had twenty years ago. In fact with the exception of a couple added pounds at the waist and some lines at the eyes, he had pretty much the same body he had twenty years ago. Some people had the grace to age with the passing of time, but my parents had both missed the memo.

"Ellen," Daddy's voice was deadly calm, "I think you ought to apologize."

Her spine straightened and her chin tilted up. "I think I don't. She is the one who needs to apologize, Frank."

"So you stand by your decision? My daughter is no longer welcome in your house?"

"Yes." The word was quiet, but her tone was firm.

Daddy let go of my arm, but I couldn't move. I was frozen, pulled into the undertow of the rising hostility. His eyes glanced at me and for a split second I met his gaze. I didn't know what he could see in mine, and I didn't recognize what I saw in his.

His attention swung back to Ellen. "Whatever wild hare you got in that head of yours, Ellen, you ain't blaming my girl for it."

"God damn it, Frank!" she exploded, as if the pressure had been building inside her for years. "It's never her fault! They kidnap Valerie, nearly kill her, and you don't even care! You never care about anything except her," she spat the word at me.

"Iamso sick of you excusing her. Valerie spent half her life trying to please you and you didn't notice, did you? Too busy jetting back to that damned ranch or building your precious business. You never even tried to be here—"

"That's enough," Dad was almost growling. "You wouldn't leave this fool place and I didn't push you. You wanted your daughter to be a good damned housewife, I didn't interfere. Now she finally cut those apron strings you had her tied up in, and you can't stand it. Don't ever take it out on Moonbeam."

I had been beginning to edge my way toward the door until he said my name. Dad never said my name. I forgot my escape plan and was reduced to staring like an idiot as my stepmother made her retort and dad fired back. The volume was going up again, and someone was bound to call the cops soon. I wondered if Mabel next door might.

A tug on my elbow jerked me out of my stupor and I found myself staring at Grandma Mazur. She moved her head toward the living room and guided me out. "He called me Moonbeam," I whispered as we walked through the dining room. He knew my name. I'd always thought dad had had a selective memory lapse as to the text on my birth certificate.

"I noticed," she replied quietly.

"Have- have they been fighting a lot recently?"

"Honey, they've been fighting their whole marriage. It's a wonder they lasted this long."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should come around less?"

Grandma Mazur frowned. "You know that wouldn't help. Besides, I'd miss you. You're about the only one around here who keeps me sane."

I smiled and turned out the roar of voices from the kitchen. "I'd miss you too. And Dad… what did he mean about Valerie cutting the apron strings?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Grandma's face brightened. "She and the girls are moving in with that nice Jack you introduced her to."

"I bet he loves Mary Alice," I said without meaning to. She just chuckled.

"That girl's a pip, she takes after me. It must have skipped a generation with Ellen," she added sadly. "Ellen's just like her father."

I put my hand on Grandma's shoulder. "She's probably just in shock. I'm surprised Val is just moving in with him like this… no marriage proposal even?"

"Nope. Says she's through with marriage." Grandma's eyes regained their usual sparkle. "About time she stood up to Ellen, too. She only married Steve because Ellen thought he was such a good match, you know."

I grimaced, but felt a distant surge of pity for Ellen. All she wanted was a normal family, and instead she gets the pick of the dysfunctional litters. "I guess it's a good thing she didn't become a lesbian, though."

Grandma laughed. "I told Ellen that."

"So, do you know wh—" I trailed off as my father stomped into the room.

"Sweetheart, let's go get some lunch. I'm starving," he said.

I glanced at Grandma and waited for her to nod permission. "Sure, Dad," I smiled as if nothing in the world were wrong. "I could almost eat a horse myself."

Dad nodded shortly, looked at Grandma and smiled a little. "Sorry about this, Edna."

"Don't you worry about it. Needed to be said," she waved a hand dismissively. "Now go get some food. I'll handle her."

I followed Dad outside, a nervous sensation settling into the pit of my stomach. His shoulders were set and he was radiating tension. Suddenly, I wished I had listened in on the fight.