All familiar characters and events belong to Janet. Mistakes are solely mine. I was hoping to post only happy distractions right now, but I do think this one counts as happy for Babe fans in a weird way.
"I've been thinking," I said, turning my head to look over at Ranger.
"About whether you're having pizza or fried chicken for lunch?"
I shook my head. "No. I decided on a meatball sub twenty-minutes ago. I was actually thinking about my mom."
"And how the world would be a kinder, gentler place with her booted off the planet? Just say the word and I can make it happen."
That got a grin out of me. Having someone who never tells me I need to love and respect her just because she's my mother has been more helpful than I've been able to tell him.
"In a way … now that I've been going over what she's said to me past and present. She wanted me to marry Dickie and Joe, both who treated me like crap, yet she ran over a guy who was trying to kidnap me."
"Am I going to like the end destination of this conversation?" He asked. "Because so far it's just making me angry."
An angry Batman is a deadly one, but I have a grip on this discussion. I think.
"You're always telling me to talk through stuff … that it'll give me a different perspective on it, so you'll be okay. It's only because you love me that you're angry."
He reached across the Turbo's console and squeezed my leg a few inches above my knee. "I do love you. And I'm guilty of getting pissed on your behalf more often than I should have to."
"Says the man who claims to never lose his temper."
"It has to be important to get me to snap. And that doesn't begin to describe what you are to me."
"Thank you for feeling and saying that. I literally can't put into words how much it means to me. After I hung up on my mother while she was trying to get me to make nice with Morelli, I've been picking apart everything she's done. Why do you think she wants to protect me from strangers but doesn't seem to give a crap how the people I know treat me? She even seems to encourage their bad behavior if it's directed at me."
"Do you really want my opinion?"
"Yeah, I do. I've given up the delusion that 'she means well' as Val keeps trying to convince me of. It feels more and more like just an excuse every time she says it."
"Because it is just an excuse, Babe. As a popular quote goes, an apology without changed behavior is manipulation. So, I won't be parroting Valerie today … or any other day. But you may not want to hear what I do think."
"Maybe not, but I need to hear it anyway."
As I said that, I felt the pit in my stomach grow so every inch of it now hurts. Sure, I want another opinion, but knowing how your boyfriend really feels about your mother is another matter altogether.
"Alright," he said. "Do you want that meatball sub first?"
I smiled. He knows me so well. Food has always acted as a safety blanket to me.
"No. I can do this cold turkey."
His eyes flicked my way, and the corners were crinkled in amusement. He made a turn to take us far from the police station where we'd just dropped off our skip, and onto a backroad that will likely lead to more that are as quiet and scenic as a city like Trenton provides. Clearly, he thinks we need time and privacy for this conversation. That's not a good sign.
"Your mother is not my favorite person," he began.
"No shit. I'd need an actual chainsaw on hand to make even a dent in the tension and dislike between the two of you."
"I've never been happier to have someone hate me."
"I wish I felt that way. It's hard to accept that your own parents don't care about you. I mean, if the people who made you can't even pretend to like you, who will?"
"This is when looking around and realizing that what they do or haven't done is about their faults, not yours, proves helpful. You see how selective I am with who I allow into my life and my company. Within five minutes of meeting you, I would've promised you anything to keep you close. Even men I've served with, or have personally trained, require more time for me to decide it's safe to incorporate them into my personal circle."
I snorted at one obvious reason for that. "They don't have boobs. I'm sure that didn't hurt your interest in me."
"Yours are beautiful, and I admit I can't keep my hands off them, but I don't make decisions with my dick. Yes, I took notice of how attractive you are, but that wouldn't have gotten you more than a look unless there was more to you than just a pretty face."
"You think I'm pretty?"
"I think you're a lot of things."
I pretended to fan my face. "Stop with all that sweet talk. You'll make me blush."
I felt his eyes on me again. "I'd prefer to use more enjoyable ways to cause a blush."
Just one memory from last night or this morning was enough to turn my face the color of a cooked lobster.
"You're distracting me," I accused, but there wasn't any heat in my words … just in my cheeks.
"I know. You needed a moment of levity before you tell me what you're trying not to say."
"It sounds selfish and a bit horrible even to me."
"I've had more experience with selfish thoughts and talks with professionals who've convinced me otherwise. I'm in a better position to tell what's selfish or horrible and what's just sane. So, tell me what you're feeling."
"Well, everybody knows about my mother's 'tippling', and how it's getting more frequent."
I paused; not sure I want to say this out loud.
"Go on, Steph. You can't fix what you won't acknowledge."
"If I didn't know you, I'd swear you scroll through self-help quotes whenever you can't sleep."
At the intersection, he ran his index finger along the inseam of my jeans, from my knee all the way up my inner thigh. "You know what I do when I can't sleep."
I do. And a few parts of my body are still tingling from his bouts of insomnia.
"This makes me a bad person, since I don't like people hurting others or themselves, but I can't help but wish her drinking was because of me."
"In what way?" He asked.
"I'd love to be able to tell myself that she 'tipples' because of what she's done to me, to Val, to my dad over the years, but I know she isn't numbing herself out of any kind of guilt. She drinks to cope only with what she believes we've all done to her. Empathy, sympathy, and awareness are a one-way street in her mind."
"And you understand that she's been that way long before you were born. You could be a Mother Teresa clone 24/7 and she'd still find something wrong with you, which there isn't. She'd likely be even worse if you were a Saint because it'd make her look extremely self-centered and shallow by comparison."
I smiled at him, grateful that he's always in my corner. He's the only person who can take me from rock bottom to feeling like I'm on the top of the world in less than sixty seconds.
"Okay, your turn. What's your issue with my mom?"
"I have many, but I'll stick to just what she does to you. First off, she's jealous of you …"
I snorted. "Yeah, because my life, career, and history are all soooo amazing."
"They are, but that's not what I'm referring to. You're a good person who cares about and cares for others and receives respect and love in return. Helen can't get that kind of reaction unless she bribes, bullies, or guilts it out of someone. She doesn't inspire love or loyalty because she's incapable of genuinely feeling or giving it herself."
"You make her sound like a psychopath."
"Or a socio one. Should I go on?"
I sighed. "Yeah. I trust your impression of people, even more so when I really don't wanna analyze specific ones."
"Alright, since you brought it up, my guess would be that she wants you with an asshole like Orr or Morelli so she can manipulate you through them. She wants a grandchild from you, so she would tag team with Morelli to bully you into going that route even though you've clearly stated you may not want to be a mother. She wanted to be part of an influential family and Orr once had political goals, so whoring you out to get herself some semblance of power would've been a win-win for her … you would have been completely miserable, which is how she really feels deep down, while she got everything she wanted."
"So, her day is spent deciding how to hurt me while keeping me under her thumb?"
My gut instinct saluted the truth I felt clear down to my bones as soon as I'd put my fear into words.
"Yes. She really is that sick … she just doesn't know it."
"And protecting me from strangers is to feed her ego while giving her a good story to tell others?"
I already know the answer so forming it into a question was pointless.
"I'm afraid so. Telling people that she saved you from a kidnapping serves two purposes, builds up her public image while allowing her to tear you down by reminding people that you and your job are problematic. She doesn't like me because I'm not white and I'm from Newark not the Burg, but the main reason is ... the more I love and respect you, the clearer it becomes to you that she doesn't. Plus, I don't take orders from anyone, which puts a big wrench in her plans to run your life. By wanting to help build up your confidence, I am ruining her life because she lives hers through you and Valerie."
I stopped noticing the trees, the smog-free breeze blowing through our car windows, and how blue the sky is today. Now I just want to go home and cry or go straight to the Burg and punch my mother in the nose. Hard.
"I think I'm ready for that sub now," I said after a few minutes of digesting some thoughts, memories, and his comments instead of comfort food.
"Are you alright?" He asked me.
"Yeah. I think I've finally accepted that my mom's issues with me are just that … her issues to deal with. I don't have to do more or less because the end result and complaints will always be the same ... she's right and good, and I'm wrong and was born bad."
"Completely unfounded complaints, don't ever forget that."
"If I do, I have you to remind me."
"You do. You have me any and all ways you want me."
"Why?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
"Because you can make me laugh, upset me, frustrate me …"
"I was actually hoping for a compliment there."
"It was the highest of compliments. Morelli wasn't far off by calling me a robot. Before you, I ran on autopilot and didn't react to anything. Now I feel everything."
"You're welcome?" I asked, not sure that's really a good thing.
"Yes ... a thank you is in order. Being able to interject humor into my daily life and feel desire and hope again isn't something I'd willingly give back. You're special, Stephanie, and it's not only me who knows it. Your mother would have treated you more like Valerie if she hadn't realized the same thing. She had to try to quell your fire so your backdraft wouldn't completely obscure her."
"Wow, you just made the fact that my mother hates me … make me feel really good about myself."
"She doesn't hate you in the way you think, Babe. She doesn't have the capacity to feel any emotions beyond boredom, jealousy, and rage. She couldn't help but love you if she were mentally open to caring about anything except herself."
"That explains a lot … and has me feeling a lot less guilty for hanging up on her. I think your words just cut my last tie to the Burg."
"Good. You were born better than that place."
I pulled the seat belt away from my shoulder so I could lean over and kiss the side of his jaw. "Maybe I was, but I still want my meatball sub from Pino's. He shouldn't be penalized for the parents I got stuck with."
"Coming right up."
He placed a hands-free call to Pino, and even paid for it in advance for me. Ten minutes later, I was walking in and out with my sub and complimentary Biscotti because I'd insisted on going in to get my food just so I could stretch my legs. I was busy trying to also wiggle a chocolate chip cookie out of Pino or I would've realized I was needed two minutes sooner.
From the driver's side window, I saw a reassuringly uninterested-looking Ranger look past the starved body of a blonde skank trying to chat him up and zero in on me. Both of his eyebrows rose in an unspoken question of whether I want to handle this. He doesn't like to appear scary unless the situation warrants it, but I have no problem going apeshit on anyone who tries to horn in on what's mine. And as Ranger said, he's all mine and only mine.
"Hey!" I called out. "That guy, his body, the car, and the role of his girlfriend are all taken! Take a hike before I put a bullet in both legs!"
I was pissed that someone would try to hit on my boyfriend in the five minutes I was away from him, but even more than that … I was angry on Ranger's behalf. In less than twenty minutes, he wiped out three decades of confusion, guilt, and shame for me ... allowing me to let go of everything that had once held me back. My mother's intention, I'm sure. But all this skank saw was a Porsche and a hot guy behind the wheel, not even considering how amazing, intelligent, and compassionate the sexy, rich guy is. It's not a mistake I'll ever make again.
The whorebag bid a hasty retreat, correctly sensing that I wasn't joking about her being involved in a shooting incident if she didn't. I want to believe I'm mature and secure enough not to turn territorial, but me and Ranger know better. I've never felt as safe and loved as I do around him, and no one is taking that or him away from me.
"You could've just shot her. I wouldn't have minded," I informed him, after I opened the passenger's side door and slid onto the leather seat.
"Yes, you would have."
"Yeah, maybe I would've felt a teeny bit guilty, except when it comes to Joyce. You can shoot her anytime. She doesn't have the sense God gave a camel toe. Though, I'd have a lot less competition if you shoot everyone who eyeballs you. Which is still a lot kinder than what you threatened to do to that guy at the gas station last week who offered to fill me up with more than just gasoline."
"I'm happy to announce that he was hospitalized with a mysterious illness that doctors are still having trouble identifying and treating."
"Hmmm, would Hector or Bones have an idea of how to cure him?" I asked, suspicion heavy in my tone.
"I don't know. I didn't ask them."
That he may have decommissioned a guy who was hitting on me, should worry me … but I know why that would've made him react. Everything he makes me feel, I return in a way he needs.
"You know I'm completely yours, don't you?" I asked before he could start up the Porsche. "That I'll never leave you?"
"I'll be right behind you if you do."
He pulled my upper body over the console and kissed me ... not only like he meant it, but like he doesn't want to stop. Which is fine by me.
When he let my lips go, I melted back into my seat. "Looks like it's us against the world, Batman."
He reached over and slid his fingers around my now free hand, since I'd dumped my sub and dessert bag onto my lap. I was so focused on him, I honestly forgot all about my food.
He took his time kissing my knuckles. "As if we'd settle for anything less than the best, Babe."