"Is it possible to get a nicotine contact high?" I asked Ranger as we drove away from the Markowitz house.

He laughed.

"Not that I'm aware of, but you might get lung cancer from spending more than ten minutes in that house."

I threw up my hands.

"We're doomed. We were there for 45 minutes."

We sat in silence, the purr of the 911 engine filling the void.

"I don't know how I feel about living next door to my parents," I finally admitted. "Sure, we could gut it and make it our own… and it might have a few perks, but overall, it seems overwhelming. Talk about no privacy."

Ranger shrugged.

"You've got time to find the right one."

My phone buzzed with a text, and I checked the readout. It was Lula.

Girl, where are you? This wake is hoppin'.

I typed in my response.

Avoiding it like the plague.

My phone indicated she was typing, so I waited for her response.

Hope you can join for the after-party at the shop. 15% off everything store wide in honor of the deceased. Bring your sexy side-piece. You can get something to spice up your night!

I politely declined, thanking her for the invitation as Ranger drove the Porsche into Rangeman's underground garage.

"Ugh," I sighed, closing my eyes. "I can't believe we told my parents."

"They were going to find out eventually. Everyone will."

I let that thought wash over me.

"We need to tell your parents," I admitted.

"When you're ready," he said softly.

"Tomorrow?"

He parked the car, then looked over at me, taking my trembling hand in his.

"Tomorrow."


I woke wrapped in Ranger's arms, with daylight streaming through the crack of the curtains. As I shifted, he pulled me tightly into his chest.

"Bueños días," he greeted softly, his voice low and gravelly with sleep.

"Hey," I said, pulling away from him and scrambling out of the bed. "Sorry, baby bladder."

I quickly did my business then returned to the bedroom, where Ranger gave my naked body a once-over.

"Babe," he said, extending his arms to me.

"Again?" I asked jokingly. "You're a machine."

"Maybe, but I'm your machine," he said with a smirk, pulling me into him as our lips connected.

Forty-five minutes later, I was in the bathroom tied in a robe and drying my hair getting ready for the dreaded funeral. To say I was unhappy was a massive understatement, despite the fact Ranger had made me very happy in the moments prior to this.

Ranger entered the bathroom and set a mug of steaming coffee on the counter next to me. He was dressed in black slacks and a black dress shirt, his feet shoved into expensive Italian loafers.

"Take it easy on the mascara today," he said gently.

I playfully elbowed him in the chest, but I had to acknowledge he was correct. When it came to funerals, I was a crier. It didn't matter if I knew the deceased or not.

"I've asked Ximena to drive us today," Ranger continued.

"Ok."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ranger asked. "You don't have to go."

"I know," I admitted. "It feels like I need to, though. For closure."

Ranger placed his hands on my shoulders and stood behind me, gently rubbing out the tension that was lingering there.

"Let me know what you need from me," he said gently. "You are my priority."

"Thanks," I said, peering back at him through the mirror. "Just being there is enough."

I finished my hair and makeup routine, then dressed in the funeral-appropriate attire I'd purchased earlier in the week. I studied myself in the closet mirror, smoothing the black, form fitting dress over my stomach and hips. I turned sideways and studied myself again. A slight bulge was evident in my lower abdomen. I knew it was only evident to me and possibly Ranger, but it was there the same. I sighed, then placed my hand on it softly.

"We've got this," I said in a low voice. "Everything is going to be okay."

I slipped into a pair of sexy black heels and slid Ranger's ring onto my finger. I was as ready as I was going to be.


Ximena drove the streets of Trenton in silence, my mind racing with nervous energy. We pulled up in front of the church with sixty seconds to spare, and Ranger escorted me out of the Lincoln Navigator and into the church, where we took a seat in the back row. A few people took notice of our entrance, but most were distracted by the family, who began to filter in from the small room at the back into the front of the church.

I studied the dozens of floral arrangements that dotted the front of the church, wondering who would send funeral flowers to someone like Dickie.

"Babe," Ranger whispered softly in my ear. "You're sighing."

I gave him an apologetic look and obediently kneeled next to Ranger for the impending prayer. I struggled to clear my mind, finally tuning into the prayer.

"Eternal rest, grant unto Richard, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them, through the mercy of God, rest in peace," the priest said. "Amen".

I crossed myself, and Ranger did the same. He helped me back into my seat and put an arm around my back, holding me close.

I watched as Dickie's mother ascended to the pulpit and began a scripture reading.

"I am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand," she declared through a wavering voice. "I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me."

I felt the familiar burning behind my eyes and prepared for the waterworks. Ranger pulled a black handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit, and I clutched it like a lifeline as the first few tears began making their way down my cheeks.

Dickie's father ascended to read next. As he did, I studied my hands.

Moments later, Ranger gave me a light tap, seeking my attention. I looked at him expectantly, and he extended the order of service bulletin to me. I took it, not understanding what he meant until he pointed at the list of readings.

Following Richard Orr, Sr. was to be Stephanie Michelle (Orr) Plum reading Ecclesiastes 3.

Just great. I'd been assigned a reading, and I didn't even know it.

"Let's go," I whispered frantically, grabbing Ranger by the hand.

"Babe," he said, rubbing my back to soothe me.

He pulled a bible from the back of the pew and effortlessly found the verse in the bible, handing it to me.

I scanned the verse and realized it was familiar. I sighed with resignation, fanning myself with one hand to tone down my red, hot, tear-streaked face.

"You can do this," Ranger whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in his.

I tried to absorb all the confidence he had in me as I heard myself introduced from the front of the church. I arose obediently, as if in a trance, and Ranger arose, too. He extended his arm to escort me and I took it, clinging to him like a lifeline.

The only sound in the church was the whirr of the organ and the click of my heels as I descended the far aisle to the altar, the bible held to my chest. I felt the eyes boring into my back, but I pushed the feeling away, focusing only on the task at hand.

Ranger stopped his ascent once we reached the first pew, and I turned to face him. He gave me a single nod, and I knew it was me alone from here. I crossed the distance between him and the pulpit and stood, staring out at the large crowd of mourners and gawkers.

"To everything, there is a season," I began, "and a time for every purpose under the heaven."

My hand trembled as I turned the page to reveal the next verse.

"A time to be born," I said, my voice cracking, "and a time to die."

I inhaled, steadying myself.

"A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to kill, and a time to heal. A time to break down, and a time to build up."

I sniffed loudly, and the microphone caused the sound to reverberate around the church.

"Sorry," I apologized awkwardly, wiping my eyes.

I looked up and saw Dickie's mother sobbing in the front row, her husband holding her as he, too, wept. I felt my chest constrict, but willed myself to continue.

"A time to weep, and a time to laugh," I said, my voice so shaky I hardly recognized it. "A time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to cast stones…"

At the thought of casing stones, images of arguing with Dickie flashed through my mind. My short-lived marriage to Dickie had become a defining moment in my life, forever punctuating my existence. In hindsight it all seemed so… Immature. Stupid. Unnecessary.

I broke. I couldn't help it—funerals always destroyed me. A guttural wail escaped my chest, and I tried to catch my breath through sobs as the churchgoers watched.

I stood sobbing as time marched on, unable to read the passage. I saw faces I knew staring back at me expectantly—mom, grandma, dad. Eddie Gazarra and my cousin, Shirley. Joe's mom and Grandma Bella. A soft touch startled me, and I was surprised to find Ranger at my side. He pulled the bible closer and began reading where I'd left off.

"A time to cast stones, and a time to gather stones together," he said somberly.

I watched his finger as it traced the words as he read them aloud, his tone certain and his words articulated. My heart swelled for him, grateful to, once more, be rescued by the man in black.

"I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever; nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him. That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past."

Ranger finished, then gently closed the bible. He held it in one hand, then took my arm in the other. He began walking back to our pew, and I fell in lockstep beside him. As we passed the place where Dickie's parents sat, his mother stood and opened her arms to me. I squeezed Ranger's hand and obediently went to her, hugging her tightly. His father embraced me next. When the moment had passed, Ranger gave me his arm once more and escorted me back to our seats.

I felt a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder and glanced behind me to see Morelli standing in the back, the church filled over capacity. He gave me a nod of understanding, and I nodded back.

By the end of the ceremony, I was emotionally drained. Ranger sensed it, pushing a few buttons on his phone so we could make our escape. As soon as the final rites were given, Ranger swept me out of the church and into the back of the SUV without a word.

"Thank you," I said to Ranger as we drove away. "For rescuing me."

We skipped the graveside portion of the service, instead opting to pick up carryout at Shorty's and head for Haywood. After eating entirely too much pizza and enjoying a ridiculously long nap, I felt ready to take on the world again. Just in time, too, considering we had news to share with Ranger's parents.

I dressed in denim shorts and a maroon v-neck t-shirt, shoving my feet into sandals before shuffling out of the bedroom. I found Ranger sprawled on the couch asleep in casual clothes, a paperback novel laying across his chest. I stood studying him, a noticeable swell in my chest. The love I felt for the man was undeniable, and I felt my lips turn up into a smile.

I busied myself in the kitchen getting a glass of water and a bowl of dry frosted flakes. I sat at the counter picking at them, sharing the occasional piece of cereal with Rex, who scrambled out of his soup can to eat it before launching himself in again.

I noticed a file folder with "Stephanie" printed in feminine script on the tab, and I opened it, curiosity getting the best of me. I was surprised to find printed calendars with appointment times written, color-coded for OBGYN, therapist, and a high-risk obstetrician. Ximena had been busy at work behind the scenes, making sure I was okay and cared for. I owed her a deep debt of gratitude. Somehow, against all odds, the baby and I had come out on the other side of the horrors we'd experienced. Ximena had worked tirelessly to make it possible, hovering like a mother hen at all hours and forcing herself to become an expert nearly overnight in a specialty she'd never intended to pursue. I placed my hand on the small swell of my abdomen and gave thanks for Ximena and the life growing within me.

I browsed around on my cell phone, eventually landing on a local florist's website. I selected an extravagant arrangement and added gourmet chocolates, sending it to the Rangeman building for Ximena. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start.

I let my mind shift to Mabel Markowitz's house. I knew Ranger and I couldn't live there. I loved my family, but living next door to them would be a cruel form of torture. The house was in desperate need of updates—maybe even gutted—and I wondered how long it would sit on the market before someone with enough money to manage that would come along and scoop it up. Would my parents get along with them? Would the new owners finally paint their half of the house so the two sides matched?

In a moment of clarity, I realized I HAD the money to purchase and fix the house, thanks to Dickie. But why buy it if I didn't want to live in it? The answer popped into my mind instantly.

Grandma.

I sent Gina a text with an offer on the house, all cash, asking for a quick closing. She sent me a text back acknowledging she'd received my message and would be in touch.

I spent another twenty minutes browsing local listings on Zillow before Ranger stirred.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," I greeted.

He stood and stretched before padding into the kitchen to select a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"That stuff'll kill you," he said, gesturing at my sugared cereal.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," I said with a wink. "What time do we need to leave for Newark?"

Ranger glanced at the microwave clock before responding.

"Soon," he said. "Ella is making a dessert."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Ranger let Ella into the apartment. She greeted us warmly and handed a plastic cake carrier to Ranger, who held it awkwardly in his hands.

"It's a cake, not a grenade," I laughed, crossing to take the container from Ranger. "Thank you, Ella."

"You're quite welcome," she said. "I hope you enjoy your trip. Tell Mariposa I send my best."

"I will, Ella. Thanks," Ranger said, showing her out.

My phone buzzed, and I checked the readout. It was Gina.

Offer accepted, it said. They can close Monday if it's a cash deal. The property is vacant. Would you like to proceed?

"Holy shit," I muttered to myself.

Ranger gave me a once-over, working to determine why I was swearing.

"I think I just bought a house," I admitted.

He raised an eyebrow. He was intrigued.

"Not for us," I clarified.

Ranger's brows furrowed.

"You're going to have to explain that one to me," he said, seemingly confused.

"Mabel Markowitz's house," I explained. "For grandma."

A wide smile broke on Ranger's face, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

"Cute," he said. "She'll love that. So will your father."

"My thoughts exactly," I said with a broad grin. "Got any recommendations for general contractors?"


As we parked a black Rangeman fleet SUV in Ranger's parents' driveway, I was shocked to find the home transformed. The once cracked driveway had been replaced with a new, smooth concrete pad. The brick ranch had new dark shutters and a new black garage door. The shrubs and greenery was ornate as ever, with several floral additions offering bright pops of color.

"I've had some work done to prepare for their move," Ranger said as if reading my mind.

I gave his hand a squeeze. While Ranger may appear hard on the outside, it was clear he was a thoughtful caregiver behind his badass exterior.

"Stephanie!"

I saw Mariposa almost bouncing down the driveway, and I exited the car to meet her.

"Good afternoon," I greeted warmly, embracing her small frame.

Her eyes glistened, her body appearing healthier and stronger than it had during past visits.

"Oh, how we've missed you!" she exclaimed. "You mustn't wait so long to visit next time!"

I broke from the embrace, and she nearly tripped over herself to get to Ranger.

"¡Carlíto!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in her small, bird-like arms.

"Mamí," he greeted warmly, kissing her on the forehead. "How are you feeling?"

She responded in Spanish before elbowing him in the ribs. I didn't know what she said, but she seemed spirited and feisty—a positive shift.

I pulled Ella's cake out of the back seat, and we were herded into the house.

"Have you set a date yet?" Mariposa asked excitedly.

My eyes met with Ranger's. Our faces must have disclosed our lack of progress toward a wedding, because Mariposa began scolding Ranger in Spanish.

Minutes passed. The scolding continued, then became more intense, Ranger attempting to interject without avail. I was beginning to repent for all the wrong I'd done in my life by the time we were saved by Ranger's dad, who ambled into the living room holding a plate of hors d'oeuvres.

"Marí," he admonished. "Let them be. Greetings, mí hijo."

He set the plate on the small living room table before embracing Ranger, then me.

"Mamí seems to be feeling better," Ranger told his dad with a wink.

Roberto's eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Sí," he said brightly. "She has been tearing through the house like a dog on a bone in preparation for moving. She recently stumbled upon Marie Kondo, and my life has been turned upside down ever since. 'Does this bring you joy?' she asks, day and night! ¡Ay caramba- Suficiente!"

We all laughed together, the relief at Mariposa's improvement palpable.

"It is good to see you so well," I said with a smile.

She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. We helped ourselves to the plate of meat, cheese, and crackers, enjoying light conversation—updates on Ranger's siblings and their families, discussion about homes they were considering, and mundane updates about neighbors and friends. As Roberto was wrapping up the story of Mr. Hernandez and his pet python, Ranger gave me a look to let me know it was time.

"We have some news, too," Ranger said when the moment presented itself.

His mother's eyes glistened with anticipation, and his father folded his hands in his lap, attentive and thoughtful.

"Stephanie and I are thrilled to announce that we are expecting," Ranger announced with pride.

Ranger's parents broke into smiles.

"Congratulations!" Roberto said, clapping his hands.

"I know," said Mariposa, an ornery twinkle in her eye.

"What?" I asked, horrified.

"Mamí, we aren't getting married for this reason," Ranger argued.

"I know that, too," she said, feigning disinterest.

"Then what do you mean… you know?" I asked, confused.

"Mothers can sense these things," she said a little too gleefully. "I apologize I knew before you did. I couldn't help it."

Ranger and I stared at her wide-eyed, and she stared back, her eyes bright and full of life. I had a fleeting thought of Ranger's past persuasive abilities, and had to wonder if his mother was special, too. I brushed it away—I might never know. Everyone broke into laughter, dragging me from my thoughts.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?" she said expectantly, the gleam in her eye disclosing she knew more than she was willing to share.

The beginning of the ride home was quiet as we simply enjoyed each other's company, holding hands in the faint dashboard light.

"Do you have plans tomorrow?" Ranger asked as we neared Trenton.

I shook my head lazily.

"What do you think about a trip to Point Pleasant?" he asked. "The weather looks good."

"Yes!" I responded with an eagerness typically reserved for sporting events or donuts.

"Consider it a date. Bring a swimsuit and something to wear to dinner. I'll get us a room," he said with a wink.