Shelter from the Strom

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a/n more Christmas craziness! Remember that this series often uses movie quotes in the dialog...just in case it seems a little, ah...strange. LOL. This actually takes place about three weeks before the previous story; Zoe is four.

WARNING: Zoe's Christmas carol lyrics [non-religious] are possibly offensive! But she doesn't realize that.

Twenty-two ~ Red Duct Tape, Anyone?

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Stephanie —

It's Christmas in Trenton New Jersey. Ranger is in the wind, but due home any moment. Or any day now, I should say.

My name is Stephanie Plum, yaddah, yaddah...

We are putting up a Christmas tree! In the seventh floor penthouse we all now share. And Julie is here! Rachel let her come for Christmas again this year. And of course Zoë is a little whirlwind of a Christmas elf, all dressed up in red velvet and bright green tights and a too large Santa hat with her name on it...

We all have hats to match. And by god, we're gonna wear them. Or else. Monster, Zoë's bodyguard, bought them under duress, at the local Dollar Store. He has since made himself very scarce, lemme tell you.

Now Zoë surveys her staff with childlike pride, stuffs another cookie into her little rosebud mouth.

I don't care what Ella claims is in the 'healthy' cookies she has provided for today's tree trimming party. I know sugar overload when I see it.

I have enlisted the help of a crew of Merry Men, yes all with Santa hats, red not black, to set up the Christmas tree. Yes, they have sugar shock too and are bickering like a bunch of eight year olds.

Sadly Zoë chooses this crucial moment, just as Lester balances our 12 foot Frasier fir on its new red and green tin tripod —to burst into song.

You know. Zoë's famous mangled lyrics.

She belts out [to the tune of Christmas in Killarney]:

''Ooooh de hall is green, de IV's green

de prettiest pitcher you'll ever see

and all of the fucks are home...''

Crash!

''What did you say, little girl,'' bellows Tank. Omigod, he looks stupid in his hat. Scary.

Zoë smiles beatifically, red and green sprinkles in her little white teeth, crumbs all down her gorgeous red velvet dress.

Behind her I hear Hal tell Lester,''See, I told you we needed duct tape, man. Look, I brought this nice red duct tape to secure the tree to the wall. But nooo..."

"You know, somehow, I told you so just doesn't quite say it,'' adds Zero, who until now had stayed out of the fracas. "Everyone knows you gotta tape the tree to the walls, man."

Lester frowns under his Santa hat. "Ranger will kill us if we stick red tape all over his walls, my man. You have a death wish, Hal?"

Meanwhile Tank stands over Zoë. He tells her, "Go on."

She does:

'The baby's door is open

My neighbor's Al Capone

And Farmer John before he's gone

will piss the hearth and home.

Oh the hall is green the IV 's green

It's Christmas in Poughkeepsie

and alla da fucks is home!''

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Tank pales wonderfully. "Stephanie! Bomber! Did you hear what this kid is singing?''

I turn away from the re-levitating tree.

''Get a grip, Tank. She's four years old.''

From under the tree Brett's voice says, 'I can't get these screw gizmo things to turn. They're rusted shut.''

Lester and Hal are trying to steady the enormous fir and Tank is teaching poor little Zoë the proper words to the carol.*

I find it amusing that Tank knows this carol, but try not to laugh and hurt his feelings.

''Steph! We need some WD-40,'' orders Lester.

''Huh?'' I look around helplessly.

''You know! It's that spray shit, blue can, red nozzle? You've seen it, haven't you?''

''Uh...''

"Steph! Look sharp, here."

I put my fists on my hips and glare at him. "I'm sorry. My responses are limited. You have to ask the right questions."

"Where. Is. The WD. Forty? Is that clear enough?"

Cranky pants, I fume.

Behind Mr. Grumpy, Brett is still yelling. "This tree stand is shit! It's a piece of crap! I must be, like, a malfunction magnet. Because your shit keeps malfunctioning around me. Why the hell ..." bellows Brett. All I can see of him is his black clad legs and black work boots.

"Excuse me?" I say loudly.

''Not you, Ms Plum, sir. Him!"

A boot kicks out towards poor Lester who lets go of the tree and hops away. The he leans down and tells Brett, ''First of all, stop cussing 'cause you're not good at it. And there's little kids here, man, ya know?''

Julie, a stunningly gorgeous child at age thirteen suddenly appears, looking just like Ranger. (Life is so unfair. She has no inkling of 'awkward stage' or 'baby fat'...). Her party dress is of course, black. Velvet. She stomps over to the black legs under the tree and hands over the can of WD-40. "Here! I was using it for my science fair project."

I open my mouth to ask then decide I don't want to know.

Brett says, ''You're an angel, my fairest lady!''

Julie steps back and sneezes. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and says, ''Sorry, I'm allergic to bullshit.''

Tank throws up his hands in dismay. ''Boss isn't gonna be happy his little princesses suddenly have potty mouths, Stephanie.''

I shrug. "Seemed pretty accurate to me. And why is Zoë crying? C'mere, honey.'' I pick up my wailing Zoë.

''I was singing a Christmas carol, just like on Sesame Street. But Tankie don't like my song!''

"Well sweetie, we need to learn the tune. And, um, the right words, okay?"

I start to sing and everyone yells, ''No!''

I look around. ''What?''

''Babe, she learned to sing from you."

Ranger. Is. Home.

I throw myself...and yes, baby Zoë...into his arms.

"Babe."

"Ranger."

Crash! The tree falls again as all the Merry Men jump to their feet and just about salute.

Julie screams and runs to Ranger. He smiles, encircles the three of us, his girls, in his arms.

Ranger hugs us, looks at the catastrophe in his once perfect living room, once perfect life. The smile gets wider.

He asks me, "Do you ever have a normal day?''

I consider this. "Yeah. Once. It was a Thursday."

''How was it?''

''The normal day?''

''Yeah.''

''It sucked. Almost died of boredom, Ranger."

''You're living proof that it is better to be lucky than smart, babe.''

I kiss him. "I am lucky. Very lucky. I know that..."

Ranger's smile amps all the way up to its pinnacle zillion watts. He says, "Does believing you're the last sane man on the planet make you crazy? 'Cause if it does, maybe I am.''

I shrug. "Whatever. Sane is over-rated anyway. Merry Christmas, Ranger."

''Merry Christmas, uh—everyone," he replies. And actually eats the pink and orange sugar cookie Julie has put in his hand.

and they lived happily ever after...

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Merry Christmas! And to all a goodnight!

the end of the story/ series tbc

oh yeah, just in case you didn't recognize Zoë's song:

Christmas in Killarney [lyrics in red are what Zoë sang.]

The holly green, the ivy green
The prettiest picture you've ever seen
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

It's nice, you know, to kiss your beau
While cuddling under the mistletoe
And Santa Claus you know, of course
Is one of the boys from home

The door is always open
The neighbors pay a call
And Father John before he's gone
Will bless the house and all

How grand it feels to click your heels
And join in the fun of the jigs and reels
I'm handing you no blarney
The likes you've never known
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

here's a youtube link to paste, to hear it: http [:/ /]www[dot] you tube [dot] com /watch?v=lFw87Ku_qWg pls eliminate the brackets and the spacing around you tube. Or just google the song...