I had originally planned on updating "That Froghurt Guy" next, but since my Beta is out of state (and her mind, but that's a normal thing for her) and away from her keyboard, I decided I may as well work on "You're Pretty Messed Up Too" instead. And clearly, I managed to get somewhere with it... since you're reading here and all...

Chapter 5

Once the mess was cleared up, thanks to the helpful waitress that happened to be hanging around the table, we settled down and Lester looked like he was about to start his interrogation when the boys started acting up. I knew I couldn't expect them to sit still for much longer without giving them something to do, so I pulled my anti-boredom kit from my handbag and passed it across the table. This was an idea I'd gotten from Mary-Lou. It was an emptied out mint tin with a bunch of little activities in it. There was a small mat and special set of dice used for playing finger twister, a couple of small notepads and pencils, and some magnetic face features for making funny faces on the lid of the tin. The Merry Men had taken to keeping similar kits in their desk drawers for in case they were left in charge of the twins at a moment's notice. Some held little pop rockets, others had teeny-tiny bows and arrows made from paddle pops and q-tips, and I knew for a fact that Hank had a miniature pool table in a tin. They say they only keep them for the kids, but considering the things in them, I'd say they use them to quench their own boredom as well. So once the boys were occupied, I turned my attention to Brodie.

"You were born in Trenton?" I asked, surprised that I'd managed to maintain the thread of conversation throughout the disruption. The look Lester sent me said he hadn't expected it either.

Brodie nodded slightly, watching Eduardo roll the Twister dice. "My Da was here on a student exchange program," he explained. "Met a lass. Fell in lust with her. Nine months later, there I was. She died from complications after the birth. I was here a month before Da took me home to Scotland."

"What about the girl's parents" Lester asked pointedly. "What did they have to say about it?"

He shook his head, and avoided looking at either of us in favour of staring at the table top. "They thought it was best if he take me away. They didn't want to be reminded of the mistakes their daughter had made."

"That's terrible!" I voiced my opinion. "You'd think they'd want to keep you close as the last part of their child. What grandparent doesn't want to know their grandchild?"

Shaking his head, Brodie finally lifted his head and gave me a small smile. "Just mine apparently," he said. "It doesna bother me anymore. I've made a good life for myself. Grandparents are just a vague concept that other people experience." We spoke a short while longer about his childhood until he glanced at his watch and shook his head regretfully. "Sorry," he apologised, "I need to leave. Deadline to meet."

"Of course," I assured him as he stood. I dug a business card out of my purse and handed to him. "If you need any help or just want to talk, don't hesitate to call."

"That's very kind of ye," he informed me, taking my hand in both of his. "And ye take care of yerself."

He nodded curtly to Lester, who returned the gesture but stayed silent as he had been for quite some time now. Once Brodie had left he turned to the boys and helped them pack their game back into the tin. He didn't say a word. I was about to ask if everything was alright when my phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered, knowing it was Carlos purely from the ringtone.

"Tell me your spidey senses are tingling," he prompted and I could hear the slight smile in his voice.

Confused as to where he was going with this, I decided to play along. "My spidey senses are tingling?" I said, but it came out more of a question.

"Babe," he stated, sounding exasperated. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings."

At his words, a shiver ran up my spine and I knew he was here. Without turning around I asked, "How much of that did you see and hear?"

"Enough to know you didn't give him the crossword," he informed me. "And knowing you, there's a reason you kept it."

Finally, I turned my chair around, scanning the cafe patrons in search of my husband. "Where are you?" I asked into the phone when I failed to spot him. I'd double checked all the faces in the vicinity and none of them were the man I loved.

"Outside," he said. "I couldn't risk the boys giving my presence away."

I spotted him sitting at a table outside the plate glass window of the cafe. It was pretty far away, but the set up of the tables meant that he would have been able to see almost all of what went on at my meeting. How he heard anything was beyond me. I gave him a mock glare and shook my head when he sent me a crooked little smile. "Get in here mister," I commanded.

Five minutes later, with keys exchanged and Lester on his way back to Rangeman for the evening in the SUV, Carlos reminded me that we were expected at my parent's house for dinner. I suppressed a sigh, knowing that Mom was going to make a fuss about me not walking yet, just like every time she visited in the centre. Mom was under the impression that I wasn't trying hard enough. Grandma Mazur, on the other hand, informed me that it was a pity I was already married because I'd probably get a lot more men with my new wheels. I shudder to think of any antics she might get up to if she got possession of my chair.

When we pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later – Mom loved it when we arrived early so she could have extra time with the boys – Mom and Grandma were waiting at the storm door as per usual. Carlos released the child lock and the boys were out of the car in a flash, making quick work of the path that lead to the porch and in mere moments they were being smothered in grandparental kisses and ushered inside to say hello to their grandpa.

Carlos retrieved my chair from the trunk and set it up for me and positioning it just right for me to get into it, but as I contemplated the house, I realised it would be more trouble than it was worth to try and navigate the chair in my parents' home. Their hall was not as wide as our own, and so much life had been crammed into the rooms over the years that it would be like an obstacle course just to get to the dining table. Not to mention the stairs. Stairs to the porch. Stairs to the second floor where the bathroom was. The chair would just be in the way.

I must have taken a while to make my decision, because the next thing I knew Carlos was crouched down next to my open door, peering at me with a slight furrow in his brow. "Babe?" he questioned. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, I laid my hand on his cheek. "Would you mind if we left chair out here?" I asked softly, gazing into the melted chocolate pools of his eyes. "You'd have to carry me up the steps anyway, and it seems silly to make you carry me and then drag the chair in as well."

"It would be my honour," he assured me, wrapping one arm behind my back and hooking the other under my rear. His lips descended to meet mine and he was about to lift me out of the car when I remembered the chair. I pressed my palms against his shoulders and it took everything I had in me to break the kiss.

"Carlos," I breathed, earning myself a soft 'mmm' in response. The vibration of his chest ran through me, causing me to chuckle slightly. "Shouldn't you put the chair away first?"

I'm sure if he had been a mere man he'd have rolled his eyes at my suggestion, but being that he was Ricardo 'Ranger' Carlos 'Batman Manoso he gave a slight nod and left my side to do my bidding before quickly returning and sweeping me up into his arms. I called hello to Mom and Grandma over Carlos's shoulder as he carried me past them in the hall, heading for the living room where we could hear Mat and Edi chatting enthusiastically with Dad. The moment we entered, Dad got up from his easy chair and indicated that Carlos should set me down there. I shook my head and informed him that I'd be fine on the couch, but Dad insisted. He then settled in the middle of the couch allowing his favourite – and only – grandsons to climb up next to him on either side. Carlos settled on the arm of my chair, one hand gently massaging the back of my neck, and I placed my hand on his thigh.

"Mommy, where's your wheelchair?" Eduardo enquired, looking around.

"It's in the car," Carlos informed him. "Daddy's going to be her wheelchair tonight."

Of course, Grandma Mazur chose that moment to enter the room and I silently groaned as she sent a wicked grin in our direction. "I bet he's a hell of a wheel chair," she commented, setting two glasses of water on the end table next to the armchair, one for me and one for Carlos. "I know I'd like a ride."

My mother groaned out loud as she slid herself into the small space left on the couch next to Matias, stroking his wild curls almost absently. "Mother, please keep your thoughts to yourself just for once," she all but begged. "Stephanie and Carlos are happily married with two beautiful children, it's time you stopped these suggestive comments."

"What about their band of hunky young men?" Grandma asked, clicking her dentures with glee.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help a smile. "You can make all the comments about them you want, just not in front of the boys, okay?" I compromised with a pointed look.

She plonked herself down in the remaining armchair with all the grace of a baby elephant falling over. "You take all my fun," she complained, good naturedly. Then, with another devilish grin, she added, "You're just like you mother, you know?"

That had both me and Mom on the defensive. No way would I ever admit to being anything like my stick in the mud mother, and I'm sure upright, proper Mom loathed being likened to her out of control, disobedient, screw up daughter. I'm not saying I'm a screw up, I'm saying I didn't turn out the way she wanted me to. First of all, I lived in sin for quite a few years before settling down and finding myself a (second) husband. Then there's the fact that I'd chosen Carlos instead of the born and raised 'Burg boy she'd chosen (aka Joseph Morelli). And then there was the fact that I apparently had a problem with keeping my cars in one piece. She was terrified that one of these days the car was going to blow up with me and/or the boys inside it. She'd practically informed me that if such a thing ever happened she would revive me just so that she could kill me herself. Most of that threat was implied, of course.

"How dare you make such a comparison!" my mother shouted. "Any similarities between us stop at appearances. Never in my wildest dreams would I even consider doing half the things she's done!"

I nodded my head, for once agreeing whole heartedly with Mom's words. "I'm nothing like Mom," I added. "She's a great cook. She's organised. She's the perfect 'Burg woman. Next to Mom I'm pretty much a disaster zone."

Grandma Mazur sent meaningful glances in both our directions before stating, "The two of you have more in common than you'd think."

"Mother," Mom warned her, obviously catching more meaning than I had in her statement.

Grandma clicked her dentures some more, before rising from her chair and making her way to the kitchen. "I better check on the pot roast," she announced when she was halfway out the door.

Needless to say, things were tenser than usual between my mother and grandmother for the rest of the evening, not that I could figure out why. From my point of view, Grandma Mazur had simply made some comments about the fact that we were related and obviously shared some common traits, but Mom had taken things a little too personally. Thankfully, as we finished up dessert, the boys began to yawn and rub their eyes, giving me a legitimate excuse to get out of the line of fire before another legendary argument between my mother and grandmother erupted. I remember when I was little Mom and Grandma used to argue in the kitchen. Val and I had learned pretty quick that when Grandma raised her voice we stayed out of the way. If we needed a drink we either had to wait or get it from the bathroom sink or the hose in the back yard. And a snack? Yeah right.

Grandma was getting that look in her eyes like she used to get before she dragged Mom into the kitchen for their 'chats', so I spoke up, saying that we should probably get the twins home to bed because they had school the next day. Carlos nodded in agreement, cautiously eyeing the older women, no doubt having sensed the vibe in the room if nothing else. He thanked Mom and Grandma for dinner, declined the offer of leftovers – because it would just keep us trapped for that much longer – and lifted me into his arms once more. As he carried me out to the car, Dad herded the boys into the back seat and strapped them in. Mom and Grandma came out and kissed them both goodnight. It was weird watching them standing next to each other knowing that there was a fiery anger at the other bubbling beneath each surface. I half expected them to break into a fist fight at any moment.

A couple of hours later with the boys tucked into bed and the house locked up tight, Carlos found me in the bedroom pulling on one of his t-shirts to sleep in. He sat on the side of the bed and started pulling off his boots without a word. Once he was down to his boxers, he reached out and dragged my chair closer to him. "How was your session with Bobby today?" he asked, dragging me into his lap and delving his face into my hair.

"It was gruelling," I informed him, reaching around the back of his head and pulling out the leather tie that held his hair back so that it fell loosely around his face. "He made me pull myself up and stay upright in his stupid standing frame thing for a full five minutes."

"And did you?" he asked, planting soft kisses on my neck just where it met shoulder.

"Eventually," I conceded. "I think the effort was more arms than legs, though."

He gently nipped at my earlobe and whispered, "Proud of you, Babe," before swiftly turning and depositing me in the middle of the bed. In the next moment he had crawled on top of me and I was completely at his mercy, giving in entirely to the sensations he provoked in me. A while later we lay intertwined, our breathing rough as he tucked my head into his chest. "Tomorrow you'll show me what you learned," he informed me. "I might be able to provide incentive for you to manage standing up for periods of time."

I knew he was being suggestive, and the image of the things he could do to me raced through my head, but all I could manage was an agreeable "mmm," as my eyes drifted closed.

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