Story disclaimers are all in Chapter 1.
Chapter 10: Deck the Halls
"So Sweetie," Mary Lou's breathless and knowing voice caressed over the phone. "You say that Key Biscayne was beautiful. And, Ranger is there. And it was 'mmm mmm wonderful' to see him. So all I want to know is why on earth are you here in Trenton?"
"I couldn't miss Christmas. You know that," Stephanie replied, and then put her hand over her microphone as another round of hammering emerged from her bedroom. Followed by Vince muffling a swear word.
Because, of course, Ramon's visit last night had led to Vince and Brett from Rangeman arriving midday to replace her bedroom window. All she'd done was, as a joke, show Ramon the place where she'd fixed it with chewing gum and duct tape. And now, there was a huge cardboard box dominating her living room, a pre-built framed window ready to install, and hammering and swearing behind the closed door of her bedroom. All currently being overseen by Bobby, who was apparently her bodyguard today….
"Yeah, that's true," Mary Lou's voice brought Stephanie back from her visual inspection of the aforementioned huge box in her livingroom. "Families and holidays are important. And, Steph, I want to hear all about that for sure. I still remember birthday parties at your house; they were a total hoot," she chuckled while Stephanie snorted at a couple of notable memories. Like the time her mother had accidentally served the kids the rum-infused pineapple upside-down cake that she'd baked for the ladies Bridge club.
Or the time in high school when the sofa had caught on fire after Practically Perfect Valerie had decided to daringly light a cigarette for a sleepover bet, and then stashed it under the cushions when Helen Plum had unexpectedly returned downstairs. The good news on that slapstick moment was that it was both the first cigarette and the last one her sister had ever lit.
Meanwhile, Mary Lou was still talking. "But, I can wait on that. Because you absolutely have to tell me about your evening with Ranger." Her voice lowered, whispering with delight as she added, "Tell me all about it. And Sweetie, don't leave anything out. Especially the naughty parts."
"Mary Lou!" Stephanie replied, feigning shock. Of course, she quickly relented. "Okay, I already told you that he surprised me at the restaurant where I was waiting for my friends. And it was really nice. I wished I'd known earlier that he was still in Miami," she said. "He looked really good. Beyond, even, the fact that he was dressed in normal clothes. Which was actually rather sexy, now that I think about it. He should definitely wear blue more often."
She paused, reaching unconsciously to her face to make sure she hadn't started drooling at the remembered image. She'd practically been able to feel his skin that night by just looking at him in his perfectly fitting polo shirt and dark gray, tailored slacks. And, that feeling was emphatically reinforced by having actually seen his skin the next night, feeling it pressing firmly against hers for hours. Feeling it firmly inside her….
"Steph, you there?" Mary Lou's voice was like floatation ring snaring her back to the shore.
"Mmm, um, yeah. Sorry. Anyhow, he looked rested, tanned, and so much better than before he left. Obviously being in Miami near his daughter and some of his family has been good for him. We talked for a bit, and then he invited me to dinner with his family the next night."
"Dinner with the family? Wow, that's a big step for anybody. Let alone for Dreamy, Dark, and Distant," Mary Lou observed, using the description Stephanie had provided for Ranger in a former conversation.
"No kidding," Stephanie agreed. "Especially because it was Christmas Eve dinner." She paused again. At the time she'd been well aware that he'd offered an unusual intimacy, but after-the-fact she almost found it shocking. Ranger, the Wizard, the Man of Mystery, had spontaneously included her in one of his family's most important holiday events.
"Double wow, Sweetie," Mary Lou echoed her surprise. "How did that go?"
"It was really nice. His family welcomed me like I was an expected guest. Oh, and his daughter Julie was there, too. I hadn't seen her since Ranger was in the hospital, and I've been worried about her. But she's an amazing kid. I guess, though, that it makes sense that she's so mature after having gone through what she did. And she's definitely Ranger's daughter. Anyway, it was great to see her, too."
"Sounds like a great evening," Mary Lou breathed into Stephanie's short pause. "So, did he drive you home? Like after a date?" Stephanie could almost see her friend leaning forward, eyes sparkling, as she'd done through so many conversations over the years. Mary Lou was her oldest and best friend for so many reasons.
"Yeah," Stephanie drew out the word as her lips lifted into a dreamy smile. "He did drive me home. First we dropped off Julie. Then he drove me back to Key Biscayne." Her voice hitched. "We kissed and it was as good as I remembered," She shivered, her lips tingling at the memory. "Oh, who am I kidding? It was like ten times better."
"Yeah, and?" Mary Lou asked while Stephanie started toward the kitchen. Partly for more privacy, since the hammering in the next room had temporarily ceased. But mostly because that was where the last slices of her Entenmann's crumb cake were located. And she suddenly had an urge for something sweet. Something yummy.
"It was amazing," she said, pulling out the cake tin and lifting a slice to her lips. Then she moaned, a sound that lasted all the way through to another bite. As her bestie burst into laughter over the phone, Stephanie mumbled through another bite, "Hey, I'm having a piece of coffee cake! Sugar hormones: it's legit."
"Yup, of course it is," Mary Lou sagely agreed with her. "And Ranger kisses had nothing to do with those 'mmm mmm' sounds," she snorted audibly over the phone. "Probably you shouldn't bother seeing him again. And hey, it's a good thing Trenton in winter is so nice, because it makes it easy to be away from Florida and a particular hunky man."
Stephanie could picture the smirk on her friend's face. "Ha ha, very funny," she said, peeking again into the refrigerator for the small carton of milk she'd spied there last night. At the same time, she knew she was deflecting Mary Lou. Because it wasn't just his kisses that had made her moan; there was so much more. So very much. And all so very delicious.
Beyond that, it had also felt more deeply intimate than any time they'd been together before. As though they'd almost touched hearts along with their bodies.
Another shiver zinged up her spine from her core to her now blushing face. She pulled out the milk and touched the carton to each of her too-warm cheeks before pouring her celebratory, post-cake glass. She took a sip, leaning against the counter. Then, as her overheated brain caught up to Mary Lou's jibe about staying in Trenton, she blurted, "Ranger gave me an open-dated return ticket to Miami before I left."
"He what?" Mary Lou replied, her wide-eyed incredulity clear in her voice. "Okay, so now I'm changing my original question. When are you going back? And don't think I didn't notice that you've ignored my embarrassing, best-friend questions about your yummy night with Ranger."
"Sidestepped, not ignored. And I'm not sure about when to go back," Stephanie said, distracted by the sound of her bedroom door opening. "This morning I thought maybe it would be this spring, so I see if it was real, you know? Like, make sure I wasn't crazy, because I'm pretty sure crazy runs in my family, like wacky brain arthritis or something. But now…," she hesitated as she saw Bobby in the kitchen doorway. "Well now, even though my bedroom window is getting fixed, my apartment is still kinda 1970s shabby. More importantly, I don't have a job, and my cousin Vinnie is the slimeball I always thought he was. And it's winter. So, yeah, this afternoon I'm starting to work on a different theory."
Mary Lou exclaimed, "What? Why don't you have a job? What did Vinnie do now?" At the same time, Bobby tapped his watch, his eyebrow raised in a question. Stephanie held up her finger, mouthing "One sec."
She focused back on Mary Lou for just a moment longer. "It's a long story; I'll tell you later. For now though, if you happen to need a bond for bail, just go anywhere but to Plum Bonds." As she spoke, Bobby crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb with a lowering frown that promised a world of hurt for someone. Stephanie was pretty sure who that someone might be. Or a couple of someones. And she was okay with that. In fact, maybe she'd tell Bobby about the time she broke Joe Morelli's leg with her father's car. Or perhaps the time she'd been on yearbook committee and had arranged for the worst portrait photographer's picture of Joyce Barnhardt to be used; the one with her about to sneeze.
So worth it…..
Meanwhile, Mary Lou girl-scout promised that both she and Lenny would satisfy all of their copious bond shopping needs elsewhere, despite the glamourous Plum Bonds storefront, their amazing bargains on all the popular bail bond products and accessories, and the helpful staff. Mary Lou could barely hold her laughter back until she finished.
"Now that's true friendship," Stephanie giggled in response. "You know I worried, since you and Lenny are such wild and crazy kids. Seriously though, you and I are still on for tomorrow, right? I'll bring over donuts and we can schmooze and talk about everything then."
"You bet. I've freed the whole day for you, Sweetie, and I'm holding you to that promise. Lenny's taking the kids to the drop-in crafts workshop at the community college, so we'll be on our own. After that, you can fly back to Florida. And you better stay there through March because I'm totally coming to visit you on Mommy's Special Vacation Week in March, instead of staying with Great Aunt Marlene and her table doilies in Fort Myers."
"It's a deal," Stephanie said. And then, after a couple of virtual pinky swears and farewell laughs, she hung up.
Then she looked up at the Rangeman in her doorway. "All right Bobby. I'm ready to go. Let me just make a pit stop and get my coat."
He nodded, grabbing his own coat from the front door rack. "I'll go start my truck to get it warmed up. Be right back."
"You're the best," Stephanie smiled. Then, he stepped out and Stephanie frowned, noting that he locked the door behind him. Really, how many people had keys to her apartment? Of course, as Ranger had noted, nobody apparently needed one, but still…. But still, Connie still had one. Joe Morelli still had one. And apparently, so did Bobby. It definitely was something to look into.
She exhaled, closing the bathroom door and turning on the light. And, whoa, there was the Don King beach look, staring right at her in the mirror. She quickly finger combed some conditioner into her hair and then spritzed on curl tamer. After finishing up with a wide comb, hand smoothing, and a couple of clips, it was time for some war paint.
She scanned the mirror again. No need for foundation— yay tanned skin!— she went for a bit of moisturizer, a quick dash of concealer, some blush, and she was ready for her favorite evening eyeshadow and mascara. Light silvery base, dark blue contrast, a quick finger-smooth, followed by the brush of emphasis along her lashes. A final brush along her eyebrows and she was ready for anything.
Oh wait, lipstick. She fumbled between a couple, and then grinned as she pulled out Wild Plum. Yes. Perfect! She plumped her lips and slicked on the color, palmed the stick for her purse, and dabbed her lips with a tissue as she stepped out of the restroom.
And, Bobby wasn't even back, yet. Men who complained that women took forever in front of the mirror discounted that the whole point was that it was fun to play with getting all dolled up. At the same time, every Jersey girl knew how to do a speedy freshen-up any time, anywhere. Sheesh.
Stephanie retrieved her purse from the sofa and her mittens from next to the still-unopened letters and bills on her dining table. And seeing that stack of envelopes poked again at the wound from Vinnie's dismissal of her and the bruise of Connie's betrayal. Good thing she still had some money that she hadn't spent in Florida. And also, since she'd been away, her bills should be very low.
She straightened her shoulders and jutted her chin. She could make this work; she always did.
Her purse— well, her phone— began vibrating against her hip. Pulling it out she saw a message from Valerie giving her logistics on when she could come over and pick up Rex. Sheesh, since her sister had a key to her apartment— yet another person, it was really time to do something about that— maybe she should have a copy of Val's key.
Maybe she'd mention that when she called Val later tonight. Then again, maybe she didn't want to be on Val's speed-dial for problems at home. Something to think about.
Scrolling down she saw she'd missed a call from Ranger. And that was a Holy Cow moment: Ranger was now actually calling her to talk. Or, at least, not just to check if she was free for work.
She put the phone to her ear and played his message. His low baritone started a warmth welling through her system. His words made her chuckle, as she fanned her face with her free hand. "Yo, Babe," he started. "Check your postbox. The backup phone batteries should be there by now." He paused, then continued with audible amusement, "So, shoot anyone yet? Feel free to keep Bobby on his toes; he needs the refresher. If Vinnie calls, just ignore him." As he paused again, she heard someone calling his name in the background. "Okay, gotta go. Will be offline for a few hours. Later."
Stephanie suspected she was smiling like a giddy schoolgirl. Not only was he reaching out, he'd almost said a real "goodbye" at the end of his call. This might be real….
She checked and it had only been about twenty minutes since he called. So she texted back a message: "Yo back at you. Nobody shot yet. Can I give Bobby permission to go do real work? He might shoot someone if we do more shopping. Plum Out."
She giggled, putting her phone away as a loud sound and muffled swearing from her bedroom drew her to her bedroom door. She opened it, pushing aside the plastic sheeting taped inside from her door frame, and peeked inside. Her flushed cheeks were immediately cooled by the sliver of arctic air that blew through the empty window opening in front of her fire escape, where Brett was crouched. Vince, who was about to lift the new window frame into the opening paused to look at her. "Hey Bomber, what's up?"
"Hi guys. Is everything okay in here? I heard a shout."
Brett grinned. "Vince bashed his finger by forgetting to make sure both panes were secure before picking up the frame."
"Oh, ouch!," she said. "Do you need any ice? Or a bandage, or anything?"
"Nah," Vince shook his head. "Hardly hurts at all," he said while swiftly moving his left hand out of her view.
"It was a very manly injury," Brett smirked. "And Vince is a very manly man. Who has a very manly shout and a very manly ouchie."
"Screw you," Vince said, almost as an aside. Clearly this was in line with the regular Vince and Brett show.
"Yeah, in your dreams," Brett shot back with equal casualness. Then he looked at Stephanie. "Let Ranger know if you also want to have the living room windows replaced. They're the same vintage as the one in here and the seal is shot, so no wonder they're drafty."
"Wow, okay," Stephanie blinked. That was a lot of work to request, a lot of money. No price and all that, but still….
Brett reached forward, resting his gloved hands on the bricks outside where her window normally sat. "It's no problem. It's actually kinda nice to do something physical like this for a change. It's a lot better than sitting at the monitors."
Vince nodded, adding, "And it's a good way to work off all the eggnog and party snacks, Christmas meals, and desserts."
"And more desserts," Brett added. Because if your wife is Filipina like mine, or Italian like Vince's, every meal during the holidays has its own dessert."
Stephanie laughed. "I know what you mean about desserts," she said, thankful that her Hungarian metabolism seemed to neutralize that Italian urge to pile the desserts high at holiday time. Or, really, whenever.
"Well guys, anyway, thanks for doing this," she waved her hand in the general direction of the window set and the opening in her wall. "It should make a lot of difference."
They both replied and then bent back to work. With a quick finger wave, she began to close the door against the draft. Then Vince turned, his brow furrowed. "Stephanie, if replacing the livingroom windows is too much, I could replace the caulk around them. It's less than an hour of work."
She paused, "Wow Vince, that's so nice. I may take you up on it. Okay to call you at Rangeman if I decide 'yes'?"
"Yup," he said, returning his attention to the framed window he was about to lift into place. In the window opening, Brett gave her a thumbs up, and then returned his focus to Vince.
Stephanie backed out of the doorway, closing the guys back in her room, just as Bobby returned. Looking almost hopeful, he asked, "No coat yet? Bomber, you change your mind?"
"Nope," she popped the "p" while walking to the front door, where he was holding her coat out for her. Bobbling her purse and her phone between her hands while she attempted to fumble her arms into the coat sleeves extended at Bobby's height resulted in only a minor amount of Melissa McCarthy level clumsiness. And, with only one of her fists oofed into Bobby's stomach, which— holy cow— was as taut and knuckle-bruising as Ranger's.
Shaking out her hand, she put on her mittens and was ready. After making sure she was okay without a visit to her first aid kit, Bobby began to chuckle as he escorted her out of her apartment. Where, yes, he pulled out a keychain with her apartment key, along with a few others that looked suspiciously familiar. Then, like her father, he bypassed the elevator in lieu of the fire door and led her down the stairs ("Stairwells can be more defensible than a closed elevator, Bomber"). From there, he led her outside to his truck, which was now idling next to the front door, rather than where they'd left it earlier today.
In fact, it was parked in a space that was never, ever unoccupied.
How the heck did Ranger and his core team always manage to do that? Was it another Rangeman superpower? Or maybe did they all carry special relics of some parking saint? Curious, she slanted a glance toward Bobby, who had resumed his slow, generous chuckle. While pulling out his truck fob, he paused to catch her eyes. "It's a secret Rangeman device called a snow shovel. I cleared this space a few moments ago, while you were upstairs getting ready."
She snorted. "Ah, the old 'stump 'em with the obvious answer' trick," she joked back.
His smile acknowledged her humor, and then he was all business as he opened the passenger door for Stephanie to get in. "Bomber, one last time. Are you sure about this?"
She stepped up onto the step bar of his Rangeman F-150, making then the same height. "Not really," she shrugged, looking him in the eyes. "But it seems like the right thing to do. I understand, though, why you ask."
He tilted his head, lips pursed, obviously considering what he might say in return. She turned to position herself in the oversized warmed seat and then glanced at Bobby as she secured her seatbelt. "You can close the door, now. I'm still not planning to bolt away, or steal your truck, or anything."
"Hmm," he rumbled, lips pressed together. After another glance at her, he shut her door and then strode to the driver's side.
She snorted. Bobby's protective streak had gotten a real workout today, ever since he'd tracked her down at Italian Peoples Bakery several hours ago. In fact, she knew exactly when he'd found her because it was shortly after she'd started on her second piece of pineapple upside down cake. One could always tell time by meals and snacks.
He'd played it casual, as though he'd just been out pastry shopping and couldn't think of anything better to do than hang out with Lula and Stephanie. But she'd known he was Ranger's remote eyes and sanity check. And she'd finally gotten Bobby to admit it while he'd trailed after Lula and Stephanie with fairly obvious reluctance through a few after-Christmas sales.
And now, he was maybe going above and beyond.
"So Bobby," she said as he slid into his seat and took off his watch cap, freeing his short hair twists. "Why exactly does Ranger have you on Bomber protection duty today? I tried calling and texting, but he was on a stakeout, and now in a meeting or something." She held up her phone and glared at it before putting it in her pocket and taking off her mittens.
He started the car while explaining, "I told you, Steph. I'm ride-along in case you need some muscle. Or a second opinion." His lips curled in amusement. "Or an alibi."
"Ranger seems pretty sure that I'm going to go off the handle."
Bobby darted a glance her way while backing up his truck. "I have it on good authority that it's not a completely unwarranted assumption." Probably interpreting her audible sniff as affront, he added, "I wouldn't use the phrase 'off the handle' though, and I don't think Ranger would either. It's more that you're resourceful, unpredictable, and don't take being insulted lightly. And you have a gun."
She laughed as he continued to explain, "Now, from Ranger's perspective— and mine also, by the way— those are all good things. It's probably only the 'unpredictability' that gives him pause. Normally he might sit back just to find out what you'd do, because you're one of the few people who can completely surprise him."
Bobby shrugged as he pulled out of the lot. "But he's not here, in town."
She reached forward, tapping the head on his dashboard bobblehead. How on earth did he get away with having a Derek Jeter bobblehead in his Rangeman truck, anyway? Surely Derek wasn't regulation. She tilted her own head, giving one last tab to the figurine's noggin.
Ugh, out loud, she thought as Bobby laughed again, "Ranger assesses me a fine every month for customizing my Rangeman vehicle," he shrugged. "And another fine just because it's the Yankees." He grinned as he glanced her way. "Totally worth it, even if just for the look he gives me."
Stephanie chuckled, imagining the fleeting, squinted look of annoyance she'd seen wash over Ranger's face once or twice. The one that looked as though he was afflicted with a momentary headache. And she realized she'd seen that exact look on his nephew Richie's face the other day when his father had insisted he have some salad. The little boy's expression had cleared right away, though, as soon as he'd discovered the chopped mango that added sweetness to the salad. She laughed again, this time more quietly.
Then, as Derek Jeter slowed his wobble, she glanced back at Bobby. "Ranger says I should ignore Vinnie if he calls. Do you think he is worried that I'll shoot my cousin if I talk to him again?" She scowled, muttering, "Not that he doesn't deserve it, but sheesh."
Bobby pursed his lips in thought, slowing for traffic. "I heard the story from you and Lula, and also the abridged version from Ranger. And I wouldn't exactly blame you if you went in, guns blazing. But that isn't something you'd do. You don't like guns. And, even though you're impulsive, you're also cunning and you play the long game. You wait for the right moment to smite the wicked and leave them aware that they've been justly smote. And Ranger knows that."
He tapped his large, gloved fingers on the steering wheel. "My best guess, knowing Ranger, is that he also knows you have a generous streak a mile wide. And he thinks maybe you'll relent and go back to work for Vinnie if he asks you. Which, as unsolicited advice, I personally advise you don't do. I've had my run-ins with the man, and he's not good people." The corners of lips tilted up. "And that, right there, is probably why we're doing ride-along together today."
"Yeah, Vinnie has always been skeevy," she said, thoughtful. "Do you think I should be pissed at him? And at Connie?" .
"Hell yeah," Bobby exclaimed. "More than enough to slam the door and leave them in your dust as you walk away, leaving them wanting and waiting vainly for you to return. But, Bomber, that's not your style. As proven by what you're about to do," he frowned as he pulled into the Pino's parking lot, weaving his truck between the snaggle of cars parked in haphazardly-shoveled spots.
The tires crunched and groaned over well-packed layers of snow and ice. In the distance, where the lot met parking for Tony's Thriftway, a few mountains of chunky ice and dirty snow had been scraped and dumped in place, over and over. Aided by storms dumping new snow on them, a couple were taller than Pino's roof.
Huh, it looked like the younger generation of Pinos had become ecology conscious and stopped the venerable business practice of dumping shoveled snow into the Assunpink Creek after midnight. Oh seriously, what was she thinking? This was New Jersey. Moreover, this was Pino's. Obviously they'd decided that the fines for getting caught were too high. Hence the new Pino's-Tony's foothill range.
Shaking her head, she noticed the truck had stopped in front of Pino's front door. She glanced back at Bobby, whose dark, observant eyes were watching her like the professional bodyguard she knew he was.
"Are you really sure you don't want me to come in with you?" he asked. She reassured him that she'd be fine on her own as he glanced at PIno's. Returning his attention to her, he said, "Stephanie, just remember that Joe Morelli is a reformed skirt chaser. And he backslides, like anyone who's got a new religion. Don't be fooled."
She put her hand on his arm, touched by the kind expression in his eyes. "I'm fine, Bobby. But thank you for the warning. I guess I've finally figured that out, too." And, in fact, that was exactly why she was meeting Joe in public; no chance for her to be fooled in private by his bedroom eyes and by the history of good times between them. But, with that history, she did owe him a meeting after being away for so long.
Just not a meeting back in his house, back in his bed. No, no, no.
She pulled her hand back with a brief smile. She then undid her seatbelt, pulled on her mittens, and retrieved her purse. In that time, Bobby had managed to trot around the truck to open her door and help her out onto the slippery pavement. She finger waved as she left Bobby and began to trudge the few steps to Pino's door.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the door just as a couple left the restaurant, opening it for her. A wash of overheated air greeted her, flavored with the undertones of beer, pepperoni, Italian beef, and the spice of carpet shampoo. Coming in from the darkening late afternoon winter's gray, her eyes barely needed to adjust to the mellow, amber tint of bar lighting when the front door closed behind her.
Perhaps her sight was still affected, though, because while it was the same Pino's as it had ever been, it felt darker and smaller than she recalled. And yet, Joey Pino was still behind the bar along the side, with Bonnie and Jack. The two TVs still played sports, while the long rack of beer taps, the brass waitress station, and the bolted-in bar stools were just as she remembered.
And the room, itself, was the same, ringed in wooden wainscotting and overflowing with tables that were more than half full at this hour, with people seated in the collection of mismatched spindle chairs. She glanced around the room, looking for the Trenton PD table, but was distracted by the decades of accumulated Christmas decorations and lights hanging everywhere. Jeez, they took "deck the halls" seriously, she mused while scanning through the press of people.
"Hey, it's the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, back with us again," Carl Costanza waved from a table along the back wall. Big Dog raised a half-empty mug of beer in her direction, followed by a chorus of likely inebriated greetings and cheers followed from their table, and a few adjacent ones as well. Huh. Apparently she'd been missed.
Then Joe Morelli stood, arms out. "Steph," he said with a big smile on his face. Time stopped briefly; her mind filled with moments when they'd been together. Mornings and evenings when she'd dreamt of being enveloped in those arms. Nights when she had been.
"Welcome back," he said, stepping forward, giving her another memory of being wrapped in his arms. She hugged him back and, after a sniffle, she realized that even Joe was the same, yet different. He still had his own male musk, mixed with Italian sub for lunch, gun cleaning oil, and a dash of Clubman aftershave. And, tonight, with beer as well. But there was something new in the mix that she didn't recognize. A floral spice.
She stepped out of his arms, then shrugged. Well, everyone had said that he'd been dating while she'd been away. And, to be honest, she didn't particularly feel bad knowing that. After all, she'd done her fair share of flirting with Ted down in Key Biscayne. Though, honestly, Ted was almost a fleeting memory after the past few days with Ranger.
"Thanks for the welcome," she smiled thoughtfully at Joe, and then at the old familiar faces arrayed at the table, including Carl, Big Dog, Mickey Bolan, and even Benny Gaspick. She also waved at the next table over, where Robin Russell and Shaneeka Brown were deep in discussion with a couple of people Stephanie didn't recognize. She moved toward a chair at the other end of Joe's table until he held his hand out.
"Come with me over to the bar. I'll buy you a drink and we can get some cheesy fries," he said.
Without fail, the thought of cheesy fries sent her stomach into an audible grumble of agreement. Despite the saying that the way to catch a man was through his stomach, she'd long known that, alas, the secret to getting her attention was to wave dessert or cholesterol-laden snacks in her direction.
"Come on, let's feed the beast," Joe laughed amiably as he placed his hand on her back in a familiar gesture as he steered toward the bar. She twitched away from his hand and moved in front of him. Because, really, it wasn't like she didn't know the way.
After a round of catch-up with Bonnie at the bar, an overflowing plate of cheesy fries were arrayed in front of her and Joe.
"Let's sit over at that table for a bit and catch up," Joe pointed his chin toward a two-top that was far enough away from the Trenton PD tables to be semi-private. Perfect, she thought while agreeing. Then, with her coat draped over her purse arm and her rosé spritzer in her other hand, she followed him, while Bonnie brought over the fries and various other items.
After they settled in, she looked up at Joe. She was still taken with how handsome he was. As a woman she could appreciate how his boyish charm was enhanced by the scar through his eyebrow. She could see how his intelligence was heightened by the handful of weathered wrinkles he'd acquired over the past couple of years. She still enjoyed the play of his Adam's apple as he took a sip and swallowed his beer. She could appreciate his lean yet muscular frame through his cable sweater... and wait, was that sweater new? Hmmm.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The main point here was that, though she recognized his male attraction, she didn't actually feel the pull she'd always felt before.
Well, that was interesting, she blinked. And actually rather convenient.
Joe put down his beer and she recognized the precursor to his interrogation look in the set of his brows and lips. Not wishing to start on the defensive, Stephanie began speaking.
"Okay Joe, you know my story. Like I told Bonnie, it boils down to: sun, shopping, and more sun. Living in my friend Ellie's condo while she was away and hanging out with her friends." Her eyes widened. "Oh, and I forgot to mention this before. I filled in part time for Ellie's waitress gig. It was kinda fun, for a change of pace. Though I went home smelling like grouper sandwiches afterward. Good thing Ellie doesn't have a cat."
She took a sip of her drink while she watched amusement chase after speculation in Joe's eyes. Always a detective, Joe never took anything at face value. Which, she realized in the moment, made him a great detective but, frankly, a frustrating boyfriend. There were things he never understood. Things he'd felt compelled to probe, which if he'd been wiser, he might have left alone.
Too bad she hadn't figured that out a long while ago, she thought while unwrapping a fork from its napkin. Then, leaving that wistful thought behind, she started into the cheese drizzled fries. Mmmm…. Oh yes! Nobody made cheesy fries like Pino's. She sat back, pausing to savor her fries while Joe's eyes shaded from whiskey brown to black.
"No cheesy fries in Key West, eh?"
"Key Biscayne," she corrected, suppressing an eye roll while demurely covered her full mouth with her hand. After a dinner with Val's daughters doing "gross out" at the table, she was particularly aware of the perils of talking with one's mouth full. She swallowed, adding, "And they did have cheesy fries, but they weren't the same."
"Ah," he said, reaching over to shovel some onto one of the small snack plates. Oh yeah, that's what they were for.
"So, what did I miss here in Trenton? It feels like ages since I left, though it's only been since Halloween." She followed Joe's lead and pulled a nice pile of fries onto her plate. And really, was it her fault if the pile of fries was higher than she'd intended, since the yummy, gooey cheese managed to pull along more than she'd scooped with her fork?
"It has been ages," he replied. "I think it snowed about twenty times since then. I've forgotten what it's like to drive without worrying about people fishtailing and skidding through intersections." He speared some fries and continued. "Otherwise, it's been slow. Crime has mostly been stupid— like the guy who decided to rob the Wawa convenience store while News-12 was there filming an on-camera story."
As Stephanie snorted, he shook his head, which was the Joe Morelli equivalent to rolling his eyes. "Other than that, let's see… oh yeah, Grandma Bella cursed some guy at Dino's Deli because he said she had to pay for her plastic bag. Apparently he didn't get the memo to just charge her the ten cents without telling her."
At that, Stephanie couldn't help but laugh. "There should be a 'Cursed by Bella Morelli' club. We'd fill the Ewing Elks Lodge ballroom."
Joe barked out his own laugh at that. "Now that would be a party." Eyes still sparkling, he took a sip from his beer. Putting it back on the table, he leaned forward slightly. "I missed you, Steph." His lips softened into an inviting smile, his eyes practically caressed her face. But, before Stephanie could reply with a similarly thoughtful, though less sensual comment, he winked. And then added, "Want to head back to my place, later? Bob missed you, too."
And, right there, Stephanie remembered her many sunbathing epiphanies about why her on-again, off-again relationship with Joe should remain in the permanently "off" position this time. How had she found this endearing before? Feeling almost tired rather than angry, she huffed, "Bob misses my leftover subs and pizza. And that I take him for longer walks than your neighbor's kid does. But me, as a person? Not so much."
She snared another bite of fries onto her fork, perhaps a little more forcefully than was necessary. But, hey, she didn't even break the plate. She was getting good at this 'confrontation in public' thing.
Sitting back, Joe said, "Well, a man can try, right?" He shrugged. "And, for the record, I did miss you."
Joe continued talking, saving Stephanie from either having to fib or to admit what she'd realized during this conversation: that she hadn't actually missed Joe, at all, for the past several weeks.
"Things really have been quiet while you've been away. I'm not sure if it's a coincidence, or not, but it's true." He reached forward for some fries, missing Stephanie's eye roll. "One thing I wanted to mention before forgetting was the Trenton PD New Year's party. I know you've been my plus-one for the past several years. But, well I wasn't sure that you were going to be back in town, so I actually invited someone else."
Before she had a chance to answer, he looked up and caught her eyes. "I hope you're not disappointed. But we can still go together to my cousin Mooch's New Year's Day football party."
And, wow, Joe had still not figured out that she would do just about anything to skip any event with Mooch. She gazed at his puppy-dog expression and just shook her head.
"Thanks, Joe, but I already have plans," she said, deciding to let him go easily. Reaching for her spritzer, she asked in a casual voice, "What's her name? Is she nice?"
"Whose name?" he countered, his brows knitted.
"The woman you're taking to the TPD party." Then, taking a shot in the dark, she added. "The woman who gave you that sweater." Point scored, she thought as he straightened in his chair. "You should probably invite her to Mooch's party, too. Let her enjoy the full Morelli New Year's experience." She realized the last point sounded snippy, though she only partly meant it that way. In any case, she had no intention of apologizing.
On the spot, she changed her mind about being mad that Joe Morelli was dating other women. She wasn't mad that there were others; it was that he wasn't telling her. But then, she realized she had been evading the same topic, herself.
So, tilting her chin up, she put down her glass and looked directly at Joe. "While I was away, I went on a couple of maybe-dates. They were fun, but nothing special." She mentally apologized to her friend Ted for dismissing his kindness so readily. "But then, a few days ago, I found out completely by chance that Ranger had relocated to Miami after that whole mess with his daughter. He invited me out one night, just before I left, and it was really nice. Without all the drama of being here, with all our history and everything."
She watched as Joe's eyes went from cautious to incredulous, and from there to something like disgust. So, time to pull off the final bandaid, she thought. "Anyhow, I'm thinking of going back down there after the holidays. I mean, I liked it there anyway, and have a couple of job offers. But, I think I'm ready to explore what it might be like to see if there really is something there between Ranger and me."
"Why am I not surprised?" His arms crossed as he spoke. "He's probably the reason you were there this whole time. Well, it's been obvious for a while that you're more invested in Ranger's life, his danger, than in mine."
But was Joe ever "invested" in me, she wondered? Deciding that nothing he'd just said actually mattered to her, she simply said, "Joe, it's been a while since either of us was invested in the other. And you know it. We've just been going through the motions, and you know that also. I'm telling the honest truth when I say that I hope whoever you're seeing, now, is a better fit. That you can settle down with her the way you want and that you're happy together."
She tamped down the mischievous part of her that wanted to add, "And that Bob actually does miss her."
Joe exhaled, a bull in the ring with nobody to chase after. Then he sat forward, "Well, I guess our cards are all on the table here. I've been seeing a couple of women. And like you said, it's been really nice, without all the history," he scornfully emphasized the final word. "I think it's going to be a while before I'm ready to settle down, again. Don't wait for the wedding invitation in the mail." He pushed back his chair and dropped his napkin on the table.
"Goodbye Joe," Stephanie looked up at him. She saw a man who'd been important to her, for various reasons both good and bad, for most of her life. And she knew she was saying more than a simple evening's farewell. She could see the same conclusion on his face as he replied with his own goodbye with a nod, and then lips pressed together, he turned back to the TPD tables.
Stephanie scooped up the last of the cheesy fries, unconcerned by the heads that were swiveling between her and Joe. She was saying goodbye to that, too, this evening.
She picked up her spritzer, intending to enjoy the last of her time tonight at Pino's, when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Hoping it was Ranger, she held it up to her ear and answered without looking. Only to be greeted by Vinnie Plum's whiny, snarling voice.
"What the heck did you tell Ranger?" he started without any preamble.
"Hmm, let's see. I told him that Lula has a new job, that I liked the flowers he sent, and that his housekeeper makes a beef stroganoff to die for." She grinned, moving the phone aside to finish her drink.
"Very funny," Vinnie snapped back. Then, in his usual, oily drone, he said. "So, you know that I was just putting one over on you earlier, right? That I was just pissed at having to actually find and hire a different BEA while you were away. I mean, I had to go all the way to Rhode Island to find someone, so you know he doesn't know Trenton like you do."
He finally took a breath. "Anyhow, when you come back tomorrow we can review the handful of open skips on the books."
"Vinnie, I'm not coming back tomorrow." Stephanie put down her glass and removed the napkin from her lap.
"Okay, you need more time off. That's fine," Vinnie droned on. Stephanie listened as he walked through scenarios that featured her glorious return and his magnanimity. Meanwhile, she pulled some money from her purse and tucked a tip under her plate. Joe had, of course, added a tip when paying for the fries and wine, but she wanted the Pino's crew to know that she, Stephanie Plum, was leaving happy with their service.
"Vinnie," she finally cut him off as she stood. "I'm not coming back, ever. You and Connie made it perfectly clear that I'm not welcome there, so I've found something else. Go back to the barnyard animals in your office; they miss you." She disconnected the call. Then, as he immediately called back while she was putting on her coat, she tapped to send it to voicemail and spent a moment setting all Plum Bonds numbers to "ignore."
With another smile, she finger waved her goodbye to the TPD tables, where several people were clearly still watching her. She also waved at the staff behind the bar, and then turned to walk out the door. Into the ridiculously brisk weather. She hurried to put on her mittens and brought up her scarf to cover her face. Still needing to see, of course, she felt her eyelashes start to freeze.
Fortunately a Rangeman truck was parked exactly where Bobby had promised. Though, as she got closer she saw Lester jump out to open the door for her.
"Seriously, you guys can't follow me around twenty-four hours a day for the rest of my waking life," she said, teeth chattering as she hurried to hoist herself into the truck."
Lester just laughed as he closed the door and returned to the driver's side. "Hey, I volunteered when Bobby got called away. I might've come, anyway, just to find out how your evening went with the cop." He darted a look her way before putting the truck into reverse. "Beautiful, you trying to make Ranger jealous?"
Stephanie sighed. The Rangemen were such gossips. "No, I'm not. Joe called this morning and asked me to join him and the guys tonight. We've been part of each other's lives so long that it just seemed like the right thing to do. Of course, this being Joe and me, we managed to have a final breakup discussion in public, in the middle of the restaurant."
Lester snorted, then glanced at her again after pulling out of the lot. "A 'final' breakup discussion?"
"Yeah. Us being together, it was never right. " She exhaled slowly, watching the snow clad buildings pass by like a bunch of old men huddled under Trenton's aging streetlights.
She turned toward Lester. "You guys all talk, so you probably know that Ranger ran into me while I was in Miami." He nodded while watching the road. "And I think he's trying to convince me to come down there, too. Which is really tempting, by the way." Lester's smile was his only answer.
"So Les, why is Ranger fixing my apartment if he wants me to go to Miami?" She couldn't help thinking about Joe, when he wanted her to leave her apartment. Apparently his tactic had been to leave everything broken in the hope that she'd just give up.
"You'd have to ask him," Les replied, his eyes quickly darting her way, as though checking that she was paying attention. "My guess, though, is that he wants you to make a decision based on what you want to do— where you decide you want to be— rather than just running away from something bad. Because that's not a real choice. Not something that lasts."
Huh, well that was different. Something new.
"Les, you know Ranger gave me an airline ticket to go back down there. I could even go back before New Years, if I wanted," she said, testing the idea out loud.
Les pulled to a stop at a red light. He shifted in his seat so he was looking directly at her. "Well, Beautiful. I'd better take you directly home so you can start packing."
His smile was a mile wide. Stephanie knew that hers was blossoming to match his. She pulled out her phone, again, this time to call Ranger.
To be continued...
