I had a long, hot shower while Ranger was having his workout, and by the time I had emerged I was lobster red and wrinkled and feeling strong enough to do amazing things, like face my mother's wrath at hearing that my grandmother had gotten high the day before. I wondered how much we should tell my mother before deciding that we should tell my mother the truth. It had been my experience that my mother always found out anyway and, although it would result in my mother ironing an awful lot, I had found that it was always better to be upfront about things with her.

My mother used ironing the way that Mooner used marijuana or other mothers used Xanax. Faced with a problem, my mother would iron the difficulty away. In lieu of having clean clothes to iron, she had been known to iron dirty clothes for hours. Since I was usually the person who incited the ironing marathons, I tried to provide the clothes for her to iron. Now that I was living with Ranger, Ella was doing all our laundry and my grandmother was on her own. I didn't know how my mother was going to cope. The lack of clothes in the ironing basket was the only reason that I was hesitating on telling my mother the truth.

I dried my hair and put on the barest of makeup – lip gloss and two coats of mascara. Then, as I thought about the relationship of number of coats of mascara that I was wearing to my personal confidence in the day, I gunked up my lashes again. I thought, when my mother heard what had happened the day before, that I could use as many coats of mascara as I could put on.

I walked through from the bathroom to the dressing room and found Grandma on the way. She was standing in the bedroom, her hand on the door to the bathroom as she prepared to enter. "Did you need something, Grandma?" I said.

My grandmother looked disappointed. "I thought Ranger was in the shower", she said.

"Is that why you were about to enter the bathroom?" I didn't know whether to laugh or get angry. "To have a little look?" Apparently my body had decided that anger was the way to go, and I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

Grandma turned a little red. "You have to admit that Ranger's package is impressive. I've been looking at packages online, and Ranger's is the best that I've ever seen. He isn't obscenely large, but is the perfect size. And with his intense personality, you'd think that he would know his way around a woman's body." She looked at me hopefully.

I smiled. I had never been comfortable talking about my sex life, much to my grandmother's and Lula's dismay, and I wasn't about to start now.

"You could tell me, you know", said my grandmother. "I promise that I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I'm sure you wouldn't, but I'm not telling you about my sex life. I don't even tell Lula about it, and she's a professional."

Grandma nodded. "I could be a professional as well", she said. "There would be all sorts of men who would appreciate a woman with a little experience. I'm sure I'd get a lot of people interested in having sex with me. I wouldn't even have to get paid."

A shudder went down my back. If my mother was mad about the marijuana, she would be beyond furious if my grandmother decided to become a prostitute.

"You realize that a prostitute has to stand on a street corner for hours when they are plying their trade, and that they had to get down on their knees a lot to give blow jobs. Lula said that it is incredibly hard on your knees to be a 'ho. With your arthritis, I'm not sure that it is something you should aspire to be." I went into the dressing room and selected some clothes for the day. Although I was planning on working for some time at Rangeman that day, I knew that I was also planning on having lunch with Joe and I would be going skip chasing with Lula, and between it all I thought it made sense to wear colors rather than Rangeman black. I put on my bra and panties and sniffed my bulletproof vest. It had aired out through the night and didn't smell of pot any longer, which I was greatly appreciative of. I knew that I would be wearing the bulletproof vest that day, and I didn't want my mother picking up on any suggestion of pot in my scent. I didn't think she'd recognize the smell, but still…why take the chance if I didn't have to?

I put on the bulletproof vest and selected a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater. Grandma's eyes started to sparkle when she saw my bulletproof vest. "Do you need to wear that because of the high chance that you'll get shot or stabbed?" asked Grandma.

"I didn't wear one in the past, but Ranger bought this one specifically for me and I now wear it when I am going skip chasing during the day. He bought me a bulletproof jacket that isn't as hot for the summer as well."

"Isn't that something! I'd like to have a bulletproof vest. Think of what I could tell everyone at the Cut 'n Curl the next time I was in", she said.

I pulled on my jeans and floated the sweater over my head and shoulders. "They are actually quite hot and heavy", I said. "Ranger and I bought one for Lula for her birthday. As much as I don't like wearing them, Ranger prefers it and, now that he has bought me one that has been custom-made for my body, I don't really feel like I can get away without wearing one. It makes him happier."

"Where do you get something like that?"

"Ranger buys his staff vests over the internet. There is one site in particular that has ones designed for females that we used for Lula's vest. I think Ranger used a different site for my vest since it was custom-made to fit me."

"So if you got pregnant then the vest wouldn't fit you any longer."

"No, it wouldn't. I don't think they make bulletproof vest in maternity sizes."

"Too bad", said Grandma. "That's a whole area of marketing that the companies are missing out on."

I finished getting dressed as Ranger walked into the bedroom. "What's an area of marketing that companies are missing out on?" he asked.

"Grandma was just saying that there should be a company that offers bulletproof vests to those who are pregnant", I said. I smiled at the look of horror that passed over Ranger's face.

"I think the whole concept of women being in the field when they are pregnant is something that most employers would avoid", he said. "No employer would want to take the chance that a pregnant woman was put into a situation that required a bulletproof vest."

"So if Steph gets pregnant", said my grandmother, "you wouldn't let her do skip chasing?"

"I'm not going to get pregnant, Grandma", I said.

Ranger smiled. "We aren't planning on having kids but, if we did get pregnant by accident, I wouldn't feel comfortable with Steph doing any skip tracing. Tracking and finding skips is mostly routine but, when it isn't, the possibilities are terrifying. I would never want to put Stephanie into that position."

"But you are comfortable sending her into it now?" said Grandma.

Ranger smiled again. "I have perfect confidence that Steph can handle herself but, if things are too hard for her, she is at least wearing a bulletproof vest. However, if she was pregnant she wouldn't be able to wear a bulletproof vest. Not being pregnant means that she can roll around in the dirt with a skip and, if she gets punched or kicked in the stomach, she would just be a bit bruised. If she was pregnant, those common events could put Steph's life and the life of the baby in jeopardy. It would be putting her in danger, and I would not react well. So, no, if Steph was pregnant she would not be going out chasing skips."

"Don't tell Helen that", said Grandma. "That would be giving her more incentive to badger you about having children."

I smiled. My grandmother was so right. I kissed Ranger as he selected some clothes to wear, and then led my grandmother out of the room. "Let's make some coffee", I said, "and stay out of Ranger's way. We can get ready for breakfast as well."

Grandma brightened. "Do you think Ranger would like ice water with our meal?"

Fifteen minutes later, Ella brought up breakfast for the three of us. She had made cheese and ham and mushroom omelets with sides of whole grain toast and sliced fruit. Grandma was intrigued by Ella and her service to Ranger. "I could do that job", she said. "If Ella was going on a holiday, I could fill in for her."

"I'm sure you could, but we've never needed anyone to fill in for her in the past."

Ranger's phone buzzed, and Ranger pulled out his cell to look at it. He froze for a second, and I wondered what it said. When I looked at him in question, he turned his phone to me. It was a text from Ramon, and it said that there was no emergency but that Ranger had a message on his office phone from Dickie asking Ranger to call him back. "He is driving me nuts", thetextsaid. "He won't put pants on and he walks around in his tighty whities and an undershirt all day. You have me doing a 24-hour protection detail and I'm going stir crazy. He drinks too much and complains about everything. Add in his fear and he's just about unmanageable. Whenever he hears someone in the hall he runs to the bedroom and hides. He is treating me like a glorified servant. Yesterday he drank himself into a state, threw up, and then he told me the bathroom needed cleaning."

"Oh, man", I said on a sigh. "Ramon's not paid enough for that." Ranger nodded, but he looked irritated. "Are you ready to call in the authorities yet?"

Ranger thought about smiling. "No, I like seeing him uncomfortable."

"Yes, but your staff is uncomfortable as well."

"There isn't always something good about everything, but personal discomfort on behalf of our guest is a definite benefit." He paused. "I think that's the only thing that is keeping Ramon civil at the moment."

"That guest isn't the most cooperative person in the whole world, and he always thinks that he is in the right."

"I keep reminding myself of the end game. However, I think I'll have to take my babysitters off the two-day rotation and put them on a one-day rotation instead. When I bring a replacement for Ramon today, I'll tell our guest that we'll be doing that. He won't like it, but that is the price he has to pay for being an asshole."

"You are babysitting an asshole?" said Grandma. Her ears immediately perked up. "Who is it?"

"That's a secret", I said. "He is a regular asshole, but he is paying Ranger to look after him so we are stuck with him for the time being."

"So you aren't holding him for one of the governmental agencies?"

"No", said Ranger. "The asshole is there by his own choice."

"Cool", said Grandma. "Do I know who you are guarding?"

"No, you don't", I said. "However, you might recognize his name so that's why we are being so careful and not telling you who it is. After all, if you knew your life would be in danger and he's not worth you being in danger at all."

My grandmother sat forward, her nose quivering in excitement. "I wouldn't mind being in danger", she said. "As it is, I'm old and have a limited shelf life left."

I glared at her. "Don't say that, Grandma. You have to live a long time yet."

Grandma made a raspberry sound. "As much as I don't want to admit it, my life is definitely in its latter years. That's why I need to get a job. There are so many things that I would like to buy, and I need more than my Social Security check to be able to afford them. Besides, I was reading about jobs in my resume-writing book. They said that it's important to find a job that I like, and one that uses my skills and experience. Do you think that pimps take resumes?"

Ranger choked on his coffee, and I threw a laughing glance at him as I helpfully patted his back. He recovered quickly and looked at me, and his lips quirked up in a half-smile.

"Look what you have to look forward to when I'm a senior", I said in a whisper.

Ranger smiled.

"Seriously", said Grandma. "That would be something that I would like, and it would be something that I would be good at. Your grandfather always seemed to enjoy himself, anyway, and now I have the added ability to take my teeth out."

"Do I want to know?" said Ranger who despite himself looked fascinated.

"My last honey said that it was better when I took my teeth out. Less sharp bits."

I groaned. "You really had to ask, didn't you?" I said.

While Ranger had the perfect poker face, this was beyond even his ability to play it cool. He broke out into a laugh, and Grandma stopped eating to stare at him. I could understand her reaction. Ranger didn't break out into a belly laugh often, and when he did it was a sight to see. I was always glad when I had been able to break through his reserve and make him laugh. It was a view that I saw periodically, but that Lula and Connie had never been graced with.

"I was thinking, Steph", said Grandma when Ranger had finished laughing, "that, if I couldn't be a 'ho, I would be a good bounty hunter."

"Why do you say that?" I said.

"I could wear a bulletproof vest."