Epilogue 1: Two For the Road

Two minutes after they left the Bat Cave…

"I appreciate you walking me to my car, an' all," Lula told Tank. "But it ain't really necessary. You should know this place has good security, and the neighborhood is what you'd call upscale."

"I'm not walking you to your car," Tank said. "I need a ride."

"Say what?"

"I need a ride. I came with Lester and the asshat left without me," Tank said.

Lula stopped walking and turned to give Tank her complete attention. "What'd you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything. He had a hard-on for Ella's niece—the girl helping her with the reception, and I think he left with her."

"That ain't good," Lula said. "She's a baby. She's way too young for Lester."

"That's what I told him," Tank said. "He told me he wasn't an idiot, but I'm thinking he is."

"He wouldn't," Lula hesitated. She knew Tank well, but the other Merry Men not so much. "Lester wouldn't force himself on her, would he?"

"No," Tank said unequivocally. "He won't force himself, but he can charm the pants off most any female. Stephanie's the only one he's tried and failed with, and I don't think he tried all that hard with her. He was afraid of dying."

"That bothers me about that young girl," Lula said. "Young girls get themselves into all kinds of trouble over men."

"You know a lot about young girls in trouble?" Tank was fascinated at the abrupt change in Lula. She was taking the information about Lester and the young girl to heart. He'd rarely seen her so serious about anything.

"I've seen girls on the street that were way too young to be out there, and it was usually some man that put them there," she said, a little heat rolling off of her.

"Did a man put you there?" Tank asked. Her stare made him uncomfortable, and he heard himself apologizing. "Sorry, none of my business." Not too many subjects were off limits with Lula, but this was one of them, apparently.

"Come on," she said as she starting walking down the curved drive. "Get your sorry ass into my car, and I'll take you home."

They walked in silence to the shiny and meticulously clean red Firebird. She beeped the locks open and slid behind the steering wheel. Tank attempted to get in and then backed out. He reached down and moved the passenger seat as far back as it would go and then reclined the seat about half-way. He lowered himself into the car and felt his shoulder brush against hers. His knees were jammed against the dash and he hoped there'd be no accident. It would be hard to recover from two crushed kneecaps.

"I don't know why you drive this compact car. You should get a full-sized model," he told her.

"This ain't no compact." Lula's voice rose in defense of her beloved baby. "This here is a sports car. It's a 2002 Firebird with T-tops and black leather interior. 2002 is the last year they made Firebirds, and it's an American classic. It just gets more and more valuable every year. I bet you can't say that about your big ole pick-up truck. And the problem isn't that my car is little. It's that you're big."

Tank turned his head to the side to look at her. It was the only part of his body he could turn. "I seem to remember there was a time when you liked my … uh, bigness."

"Hunh!" Lula shifted effortlessly through the gears as the car accelerated out of the gated drive and onto the highway. "Where am I taking you?" she asked.

"Back to RangeMan. I left my truck there. Then I might go looking for Lester."

"Are you that worried about him and that girl?" Lula asked.

"No. He has too much respect for Ella to do anything really stupid. He's probably just enjoying the experience of having a young attractive girl salivate over him. I want to find him because I'm pissed that he left me. I like to get even sooner rather than later."

"I ain't seen much of you lately," Lula said. "You look good in your tuxedo. Maybe you're getting used to wearing one. I hear you been keeping time with a society lady."

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked, even though he knew. Lula and Stephanie were confidants. It was, on the surface, a strange relationship, but as the years passed and they'd worked together, they'd become very close. No doubt Stephanie had told her of his trips to Georgia. "I've been doing some work out of the Atlanta RangeMan office," he said, not wanting to discuss Grace with Lula.

"That so? I heard you was banging Ranger's old girlfriend. The one Stephanie saved from being killed." And there was the Lula he knew, and loved. Knew and liked, he amended. He didn't respond. What could he say? It was the truth. He smiled at the thought of Grace "banging" anyone.

It had been a novel experience for both Grace and him. She probably felt as though she was slumming when they were together. He didn't mind that their time together always occurred out of the public eye. Most often at her place in Savannah, but once at the RangeMan headquarters in Atlanta. In one of the staff apartments. He thought she'd gone out of curiosity, to see part of Ranger's world. He didn't kid himself about that. Although Grace would never verbally make the comparison, that would be too vulgar, he knew he was once again the number two man. Tank sighed and tried to wriggle his body into a more comfortable position.

Lula looked across the short distance at him. "You gone quiet all of a sudden. Are you dreaming about your southern woman, or are you still worried about Lester?"

Tank moved his right arm and banged his elbow against the door. "Pull over," he said tersely. She did. She pulled the car so sharply to the right and out of the driving lane that Tank's shoulder was thrown against hers. When the car had come to a stop on the side of the road, he opened the door and got out. He reached into the pocket of his tuxedo pants and retrieved his phone. His thumbs worked the keyboard for a few seconds, and then he got back in the car and motioned for her to go.

"Buckle up," she said. "And what the hell was that all about?"

"Your compact car isn't big enough for me to get my hand in my pocket."

"Hmm," she said. "Wouldn't think you'd have to put your hand in your own pocket. Southern woman come up lackin'?"

"Lady, she's a lady," Tank corrected. Grace was a lady. She was everything right and correct about society. She knew more about manners and doing things right than the lady who wrote the book about manners. And yet when the lights went out, she showed him she had another side. It was one of the things he'd enjoyed most, seeing the change from genteel lady to a lover with a voracious appetite. One of the other things he'd enjoyed was broadening her lovemaking experience. Initiating her into areas she hadn't ventured, yet. Some of those things were ones he'd first tried with Lula, he realized with a start!

His phone dinged, and he swiped the screen to read the message. "I got out of the car to text Lester," he told her. "You were worried so I asked him what the hell he was doing with that girl." He'd also asked Lester why he left him high and dry without a ride. He would share the first part of Lester's text with Lula, but not the last part. Lester had seen Tank looking at Lula during the ceremony. I did ya a favor, bud… He had been looking at Lula during the ceremony. Stephanie had made a beautiful bride, but Lula had looked good, too. Real good. He hadn't let his thoughts go further than that, but obviously Lester had let his thoughts linger where they lived … in the gutter. He felt a familiar stirring, low down, and knew he had to quit thinking about Lula like that. This damn car was too small for a hard-on!

"Lester said not to worry," he told Lula. "He and Marisol are sitting with her Uncle Luis watching the game."

"What game?"

"Hell, Lula! I don't know. Cut me some slack. I was trying to be nice, to get you some reassurance that the girl was okay. You seemed real worried about it."

"Yeah, I was. Thanks, Tank."

"'s okay," he muttered.

"It's just that I seen a few in my day. Young girls who are usually running away from a bad home life. They think turning tricks is gonna lead them to a brighter place, and then they get into something that isn't easy to get out of. I know Lester's not like that, but my hair stands on end when I see young girls with older guys. It's just a gut response."

"I imagine you have seen a lot," Tank said, realizing there was much about Lula he didn't know. Things she just didn't talk about.

"Them girls go out there thinkin' they know it all, and it don't take long before they realize they didn't know nothin'."

He remembered his earlier question, which she had not answered, about how her career as a hooker had started. He ventured another. "Were you one of those girls?"

"I knew exactly what I was gettin' into," she said. She slowed down the car and Tank realized they were approaching the RangeMan building.

"Pull into the garage," he told her. "My truck is inside."

"About the garage," Lula said. "Is there a ladies' room nearby? I could use one."

"Park and I'll take you inside," Tank told her.

She wheeled the Firebird into a stall next to his truck. They got out and walked together toward the lobby door. He punched a code into the keypad and pulled the door open. They walked across the lobby and stopped in front of an unmarked door.

"It's for employees only," Tank said, "that's why the door isn't marked. Go on in. I'll wait to make sure you get out of the building okay."

Lula took a step toward the door and then turned. "Yeah, I knew what I was getting into," she said. "I learned everything I needed to know from my mama's boyfriend, when I was eleven." She turned and walked into the restroom.

Tank stood motionless until she reappeared a few minutes later. "Lula, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yep, that's exactly what I'm sayin'. And you know what? He's still around. Vinnie bonded him out last year. I was hoping the dipwad would go FTA. Stephanie's always sayin', 'No shooting,' but I was going to shoot anyway. He made his court appearance though, so I didn't get the chance." She started walking toward the exit.

"I've enjoyed talking to you," Tank said. It seemed a lame thing to say in light of what they had been discussing. But he had to say something. He didn't want her to go yet. "Would you like to go get something to drink?"

"What about something to eat to go with that drink?" she asked.

He nodded. "We could do that."

She smiled broadly and hooked her arm through his. "Let's go."

"Okay, but we'll take my truck. I like it when I drive."

"I always liked it when you drove, too, big fella!" They laughed and walked out into the RangeMan garage, arm in arm.

AN: One epilogue down, one more tomorrow. Thanks for staying for last call.