Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

A/N: I've rearranged and renumbered the chapters to fit all of the back chapters in sequence. In case you are looking, the most recently added chapters are 5, 7 and 9.

Rating: R, for some language. We're getting warmer…

Chapter 11

Ranger

I walked with Stephanie out onto the sidewalk, enjoying the feel of the sunshine and the fresh sea breeze on my face. I loved Miami. I'd always felt more at ease here than I did in Trenton. Partly it was because Miami was a bigger city and I wasn't as well known on the street. Partly it was because with the dominant Latino population, I blended in better down here. But mostly it was because my time in Miami had been about starting over with a clean slate. This was where I'd made the decision to become the man I was today.

As we strolled down the street, Stephanie swung our joined hands between us. She was eagerly taking in the sights and the sounds of the waterfront, her excitement plain to see. That openness was one of the things that drew me to her. I never had to guess what she was thinking. I never had to wonder if she was playing games. All the answers were right there in her expressive eyes, in the tilt of her lips, in the slant of her eyebrows and in the flush of color on her cheeks. She could fib with the best of them, but not to me… not to someone who had taken the time to study every nuance of her expression as I'd been doing since the day we met. There were few women in my life that I knew as well and trusted as thoroughly as I did Stephanie Plum.

She probably didn't even realize how special she was to me, or that there were only a handful of people outside of my immediate family who knew about my strained relationship with my father. I wondered if maybe this time Miami could serve as a clean slate for me and Stephanie, too… a chance to let her see me for a change and not just the façade that I put on for my reputation.

It had felt therapeutic to confide in her because I rarely talked about my troubled youth, not even with my family. If Stephanie thought she was the Queen of Denial, she had yet to meet my relatives. My sisters had stayed out of the mess, the younger ones too little to really understand what was going on at the time, my older sister, Celia, already busy with her own family by then. And we had all learned that those "unpleasant times" were not discussed in my mother's presence. I don't think she ever got over the guilt of not standing up to my father during the long years of silence. In the war of Manoso vs. Manoso, she had aligned herself against her sons and she'd never quite forgiven herself for it, so she just chose to ignore it.

It had taken time, but I think I finally understood why she'd done what she did, and I'd gotten past it. Maribel Manoso came from an era where the man was the head of the house and what he said was as good as law. And my father brooked nothing less. That she'd kept in touch with us at all had been remarkable and she did the best she could, sending care packages and letters, making phone calls and the occasional visit. In the end, though, her efforts didn't make up for the distance or for the lack of a mother.

My grandmother had filled that void, though. She'd been the firm hand that kept me out of trouble, had been the gentle arms that consoled me when I faltered and the wise eyes that helped me see the path to this point in my life. I was successful, useful and satisfied with what I'd accomplished. Showing my father that I was worthy of his love had been a driving factor, but I wouldn't have made it without my grandmother's guidance.

I felt Stephanie's gaze on me and I realized we had stopped walking and were facing out over a marina with dozens of sparkling, white boats bobbing on the water's surface. Stephanie was standing quietly at my side, her eyes on my face and not on the picturesque view. I wasn't sure how long we'd been standing there or how much time I'd spent lost in my thoughts.

"Sorry," I said, feeling a little sheepish, but concealing it through long practice. I had totally lost track of my surroundings and if Stephanie were a mean person, she'd throw one of my favorite sayings right back in my face.

But she wasn't and she didn't. She just squeezed my hand, a soft smile on her lips.

The breeze had caught a strand of her hair and I tucked it behind her ear then bent down to kiss her gently. I craved more, but we were standing on the street in broad daylight and no matter what I wanted, she still belonged to someone else.

Stephanie turned to look over the water, taking a deep breath and bringing the fingertips of her free hand to her trace over her lower lip. Her actions strongly tempted me to kiss her again, but instead I stepped behind her and pulled her back against my chest, wrapping my arms around her waist. I rested my chin on her curls and stared out at the late afternoon sunshine dancing on the ripples of the water's surface. I wanted the world to stop for just a few minutes so I could stand here with Stephanie, soft in my arms, and enjoy the quiet moment. But it was getting late, and there were things I should be doing.

If I knew my family, they would all be gathered at my grandmother's modest house in Little Havana by now. Well, everyone except Marco. The house would be bursting with people, the women gathered in the little kitchen and spilling into the living room, the men on the front porch, the children all over, but mostly restricted to running around the backyard. My aunt's sixtieth birthday had been on Saturday, which was why my mother and father had been visiting in Miami in the first place, so there would already be extended family in town, and more would be arriving all the time. It would be a madhouse.

This would go on for days until the funeral was over and Mamá went back home to Newark. Celia had told me the plan was to have a memorial service at home in Jersey afterwards, but my father would be buried here in Miami with his father and older brother in the family plot.

I really ought to go over to my grandmother's house, be sociable, pay my respects, but I just wasn't up for it yet. Seeing my mother would make it all too real and I wasn't ready to be strong for them. For once I didn't want to have to be strong for anyone, not even myself. For once I wanted to shirk responsibility, but there was one thing I couldn't put off doing any longer.

"I thought I'd stop in to see Julie," I said, turning Stephanie slightly in my arms so I could see her face. "Do you want to come along?"

)()()()-()()()(

Stephanie

We walked back down the street the way we'd come, our pace a little quicker this time. When Ranger had asked if I wanted to go with him to visit Julie, I'd told him, "Of course. I'd love to." And that was the truth. For one, I was thrilled that Ranger was including me - it would have been very easy for him to drop me back off at the office and take off without telling me what he was up to. For the other, Julie and I had bonded. I might not be a kid-person, but she was a special little girl and I wanted to see how she was doing.

I walked silently beside Ranger as he made a phone call, presumably to Rachel, to let her know we were on our way. I studied his profile as he spoke. He'd been pensive and brooding all afternoon. Quiet, I was used to, preoccupied was new. Ranger was usually so aware, taking in the environment effortlessly, even as his agile mind solved the problem at hand. Today, there had been long minutes where he was mentally far away and I'd found myself scanning the crowds, watching his back for him, glad for the small handgun in my bag. It wasn't that I'd sensed any threat. It was just that I knew Ranger was always hyper-alert to danger and if he couldn't be, then the least I could do was try to fill in. He normally had his guard up for good reason and I doubted that those reasons would give him time off for mourning.

Once we'd gotten settled into the truck and were on the road, I asked, "Did Julie know your father?"

"Yeah," he said, linking his hand in mine once again, the action becoming nearly as natural as breathing now. "They were actually pretty close. My parents spent a lot of time down here because most of our relatives live in the area. And they always made a point to come see Julie when they were in town. Ron and Rachel were really great about letting them be a part of her life and I didn't mind as long as it didn't jeopardize Julie's safety."

"How is she taking it?" I wondered, thinking that Julie had already been through a lot this year, with the kidnapping, seeing her father get shot and then shooting Scrog herself.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "Rachel hasn't told her yet. She thought it would be best if I was there when she did."

"Oh," I said softly, surprised. Not that I could blame her for procrastinating, but the little I'd seen of Rachel Martine had given me the impression that she was Super-Mom: able to handle anything.

Ranger went on to explain, "Right after I got shot, Julie was having serious nightmares. Sometimes about Ron and Rachel, sometimes about her brother or sister, but usually about me… dying. She's been working with a counselor over the past few months and has been doing really well. Rachel and her counselor thought it might help a little to have all of us there when we told her the news. Maybe if she can see that we're okay we can keep from triggering the nightmares again and prevent her therapy from regressing."

I wasn't terrific with kids. Sure, I had nieces and I loved them, but I wasn't exactly involved in raising them. Dealing with a bereaved Ranger was challenging enough, but a ten-year-old would be entirely outside of my experience. Maybe it would have been safer for me to wait back at the office.

"I understand why Rachel wants me here, but…" Ranger swallowed, his voice trailing off. He looked uncomfortable as he glanced over at me, "I don't know what I'm doing. I can't change the fact that he's gone. I don't know if I can make this any easier for her and I don't want to screw up."

Ranger wasn't a man to admit weakness. He was always in control and always knew exactly what he was doing. And I could tell it cost him a great deal of pride to admit his fears. Finally feeling useful, I squeezed his hand and assured him, "You'll be fine. And you know why?" I didn't pause to get his answer, but plowed right ahead, "Because you are one of the most intuitive, intelligent people I've ever met. You'll know what to say when the time comes."

He looked at me for a long moment and then kissed the back of my hand. "Thanks, Babe," he said, turning his attention back to the road.

Ranger was driving through quiet residential neighborhoods, taking turns periodically. I didn't have any clue where we were or where we were going, but I'd swear he was driving in circles. I caught him glancing in his side mirror before taking a left down a side street. We drove two blocks before taking another left, heading back the way we'd come. Straightening in my seat, I pulled down the visor, flipping open the vanity mirror. "Are we being followed?"

Ranger flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror and took a right. "No," he said as I scanned the street behind us for a tail. "I'm just more cautions when I come to visit now. Just in case."

After a few more turns, Ranger pulled up to a gated neighborhood, stopping beside a guard booth. He made a subtle nod to the large black-clad security guard, presumably one of his own men, and the scrolled metal gates blocking the entrance parted.

"My first instinct after the whole thing with Scrog was to cut off all contact with Julie," Ranger said softly as we passed through the gate and drove down a street bordered by quietly elegant homes. "Of course I still would've sent financial support, but I told Rachel that I thought it was too dangerous to visit. That idea was vigorously overruled by Rachel and Julie. Now more than ever Julie's been interested in getting to know me and her counselor thought it would help her come to grips with her experience. Since Rachel's first concern is Julie, she was willing to do anything to make that happen.

"We compromised. They moved into a secured neighborhood and agreed to a few other security measures. I agreed to be more involved." Ranger pulled the truck to a stop in front of a rambling, single-story, stucco house surrounded by big old trees dripping with Spanish moss. He sat quietly for a moment before saying, "So, this is it."

He looked hesitant to go inside and figured that maybe this was one time I should make the first move. "Ready?" I asked. I looked toward the front door and saw the dark haired girl come streaking toward us.

"Ready or not," he said with a soft laugh, "here Julie comes."