A/N: The best part of writing FanFiction is the new world it opens up for you. Not just within the character world, but in real life. I got a chance to meet Roscommon last week and we hung out in Boston! Hi, Roscommon! I hope we get a chance to meet up again!

Family, Faith, and Forgiveness, Part I

Lula's POV

"Fa-la-la-la-la-la-" How many damn la's are in this song? Oh, forget it. I switch the radio over to to the local hip hop station. Antoine should be on for an interview.

Antoine hit the underground hard with a bunch of mix tapes, to keep his name out there, and he's only getting bigger. He's thrilled; he's finally as successful as his little brother. The LaPierre boys have it made! What I didn't realize is that he put it out there to the ladies that if you wanted his time and attention for more than just sex, you had to win over his Momma and his future sister-in-law!

At first, I was touched. I mean, I like Antoine a lot. He's funny as hell and we have a good time when we get together, but I didn't know he thought about me like that. Like … my opinion matters. That's been a real change from New Jersey. Tankie was right; I left 'Lula the ho' back in Jersey. She don't exist in Texas or Louisiana. Nobody looks at me and sees ho' out here. I'm a brand new woman. People listen to me and want my advice and wanna hear my opinions.

It's a weird feeling.

So now I got all these ignorant little girls running after me, exhausting my ass trying to kiss up to me. They listen to everything I say, wanna go everywhere I go and do everything I do. For Momma, this ain't nothing new. She's been dealing with this ever since people realized Tank had a little money, but this is a new headache for me. One I don't need.

"Yeah, so I'm in the studio hard, getting those beats together, making it rain," Antoine says, laughing. "Tryna make that next Dirty Boy production the hottest jank ya'll ever heard."

"The last one was hot," DJ Dwayne says. "Number five on the charts. Congrats, my man!"

"Thanks. Yo, it's all down to working hard and giving people something new to hear. Everyone's tired of little thug boys. Tell your story, but tell it like the old-school players did. With slick rhymes and dope beats."

"Word. Now, there's rumors that you and Kanye thinking 'bout a collabo."

"Yo, you'll find out when it hits."

"That's not a denial."

"That's not a yeah either."

Antoine and DJ Dwayne laugh. "OK, on a personal note, you got a lady?" DJ Shaye asks, nearly growling in the microphone. I think she's trying for sexy. She sounds like she gotta cold.

"Nah, man, but yo, let me put this out there now. If you tryna come to my studio to holla at me, unless you show up butt naked with condoms in hand and you catch me when I'm horny as hell, you just a distraction."

DJ Dwayne busts and gut and so do I. Damn, Antoine!

"I'm serious! Don't roll up on me when I'm at work! I'm in my zone and you fucking that up. Ladies, if you wanna holla at ya boy, hit me when I'm in the streets. Hit me at the club. Don't come to the studio thinking Imma give you my time and attention. Wrong place and time."

"Damn, bro! First time I ever heard a man tell women worldwide not to show up at his job to give him some play," DJ Dwayne says, still laughing.

"Yeah. Seriously, I get in my studio and I'm in my zone, like an athlete. Yo, the cheerleaders might be on the side of the field in them tiny skirts, but nobody's looking at them except the audience. Yo, name a Saints cheerleader."

"Umm …" DJ Dwayne is thinking 'bout it.

"What?" DJ Shaye can't think of one either.

"Exactly." The DJs laugh. "Same for me. You could be naked and jiggling everything you got and the only people who give a damn are my boys not in the booth. Nobody's paying attention to you! So don't come to my studio tryna get my attention. It's not gonna happen."

I turn onto the last major street before the airport, still laughing at Antoine and his silliness. I spot a cop and cut speed. I was at least twenty over.

"So what does a lady need to do to get your attention?" DJ Shaye asks.

"One, gotta have that hustle, baby. I want a woman that's got her own. Two, please know how to make something besides reservations. You ladies always want a man who knows how to eat"—he Dwayne cracks up again. So do I. Antonie is a fool!—"but you can't cook worth a damn. The way to my heart, and some other major parts, is close to my stomach!"

"I feel you bro! Damn shame, ain't it?"

Come on, Shaye! Don't leave that alone!

"Some of you brothers can't eat worth a damn, either," she says. I'm nodding. "If I'm cooking, you better be eating."

"Yo, my momma raised me right. To keep a lady happy, I always clean my plate." Antoine chuckles. "So don't worry about my appreciation. You'll get it. Three, my Momma and my sister-in-law will be the final judges. I dated enough hood rats. My momma and Sis Lula? Those are queens and they know quality when they see it. If they like you, you got my attention."

"Don't you have three sisters too?"

"Yeah, but you won't get a chance with them. They're haters. Sis Lula and my Momma will give you a chance."

I pull up to the airport smiling. Thanks Antoine. I start scanning the arrivals area, but I spot Tankie and Stephanie almost immediately. Steph runs over to the car and jumps in the rear passenger seat.

"Hey!"

"Hey! Welcome back. How was NYC?"

She waves her hand. "It ended OK. I left RangeMan."

My mouth drops. "What?! You loved it!"

She shakes her head. "Yeah, I did but I had reasons. We'll talk."

Tank gets in the passenger seat and leans close to me. "Missed you," he says quietly.

"I missed you too." His thumb brushes against my cheek and he smiles. "How was the bucket?"

"We gotta find a house. It's like living with a bunch of tattle-tales!" He laughs and eyes the steering wheel. "Nope. I'm driving. You'll survive."

"Hello Lula." Ranger's sitting behind me, already in his seatbelt.

"Fuck! Where did you come from?" And when did he grow that big ass beard? Yo, is Batman going gray?!

He smiles. "You were distracted, but it's good to see you."

"You too but you can't be sneaking up on people like that! Shit!" I reach in my purse for my emergency Snickers. Tank takes it from me and Ranger chuckles.

"Give that back!"

"Flat tummy." I told him to try to keep my on target for the wedding, but I need that Snickers!

"Your partner tried to kill me, sneaking up on me!"

"Not my fault you weren't paying attention," Ranger says.

"Shut up." He looks amused. "Mrs. CJ's got a pot of étouffée and some biscuits waiting and she wanna to see if you need more weight," I tell him, pulling off. "So get ready."

"I'm ready. Did she make another flan?"

"She did." Ranger smiles. "She found a sweet you'll eat. You don't know how happy she is 'bout that!"

"She'll see. How did you do this semester? Classes are over, right?"

I glance in the rearview. OK, I know Ranger said that me and him needed to be friends cuz of Tank, but this is so weird. Like, we havin' a normal conversation.

"Yeah. All A's." I look over at Tank, who smiles big. "I gotta get something for Chenae. I'd still be in College Algebra without her help." I already asked her to help me with biology in the spring.

"She'll be back Sunday."

"I know. I dropped her off at the airport to fly to Atlanta this morning. She's so excited and nervous. We made sure she had good suits and shoes to impress Gennie."

Tank nods and I start the trip back to Carencro. Antoine's still on the radio and they're playing some of his hits. Tank snorts. "How did the interview part go?"

"Your brother told all the women in the world not to show up at his studio tryna fuck him!" Tank smiles. "Then he told them that if they want his attention, they better know how to cook! I got money on half-cooked pots of food showing up at your Momma's door starting tomorrow!" Tank and Ranger laugh. Steph smiles.

"Is it that bad?"

I groan. "You have no idea."

Thirty minutes later, I pull up in the yard at Mrs. CJ's. Well, I try to. Tank and Ranger take one look and start laughing. Momma is surrounded by women holding pots, casseroles, and cakes and she's tryna be gracious about accepting them, but it's just too many women. I look over at Tank, who grins big.

"Tomorrow?"

"I meant today. Obviously. You heard me say today."

He laughs. "Go help Momma. I'll park."

I roll my eyes and hop down, barreling my way to the front porch. I stand up there with Momma and scowl at the ten to fifteen women blocking the driveway.

"Look, we appreciate it, but if you want us to try it, donate it to the church—"

"But he said you'd be the judge," one girl yells. Antoine's damn near forty. This girl is barely a teenager!

"I heard the interview. He didn't say we'd eat the food, just get to know all of you." I'm gearing up to tell all of 'em to get gone when Momma smiles and pats my back.

"Ladies, I know y'all eager to meet my son, but this is Christmas. This is time for family and you should spend it with yours. We want to spend it with ours and you're blocking our driveway. Please leave."

They huff and puff and curse under their breath, but they finally leave. Momma waits until the last one is gone and sighs. I roll my eyes. "Damn! Those girls ain't got the least bit of sense!"

"No, honey, that's not it." I'm still staring at 'em, thinking, but at Momma's quiet statement, I turn to face her. She looks like she's thinking back. "Antoine's their ticket out of whatever. Whatever's wrong in their lives, they want him and his money to save 'em."

"Antoine Senior?"

She nods. "I wanted out of my Momma's house and I wanted someone to love me. I'd do anything for that and I ended up with Antoine."

I stare at the tire tracks again, quiet. Derrick. I wanted out of my Momma's house and I wanted someone to love me. I thought Derrick did.

Momma has a gift. In just a few words, she can make you see the other side of the story. She sighs, shakes her head and walks into the house. "Ric! Boy, where are you?"

He pokes his head around a corner, then jogs over and picks her up. "Good to see you too, Mrs. CJ."

She sniffs him. "Good, you found the étouffée. Make sure you eat some biscuits and leave that flan alone until you get a good bowl of food down!"

Ranger's lips twitch as he puts her back on the ground. "Yes, ma'am." We walk into the kitchen and Tankie and Steph are at the table with a bowl too. The flan's been cut, but I don't see a piece. Momma cuts her eyes at Ranger. "OK, I won't eat another piece until I get a bowl down."

She laughs and swats his bottom. He sits at the table and finishes his bowl of étouffée. Steph's finishes hers and cuts a big piece of flan. "Oh. This is good." She moans, closing her eyes and smiling that smile she usually reserves just for cake. "This is really really good. Creamy."

Ranger smiles and takes her bowl over to the sink before leaving with Tank. Steph finishes her slice of flan and sits back with smile on her face.

"That was delicious."

"I know. Everything she makes is good. I come here and blow my diet every time."

I head to the stove for a second bowl of étouffée. Momma's been cooking for days, getting ready, and the whole house smelled like vanilla and sugar until she made that étouffée. Now it smells like roux and shrimp, which don't smell as good as the vanilla but that étouffée does smell good.

Steph's gonna be here for a week and the whole family is cautious, Wilma and Thelma especially. My future sisters-in-law haven't forgotten how Steph was last time she was here and they ain't so thrilled Momma extended an invitation to Steph. Momma told 'em that it was her house and me and Tank's friends would always be welcome. Besides, Steph's still my friend and maid of honor.

Chenae shrugged and said that it was Momma's house and she was my friend. If I was OK with her coming (and potentially fucking up my first Christmas with the family), then everybody needed to lay off. Antoine's only comment was that my best friend had made a shitty first impression but hey, she had to be my friend for some reason. Maybe her second impression would be better and they'd all meet the Stephanie Plum me and Tank talk about.

I told everyone Steph's still my best friend and she wanted to come. I wanted to see her. I'll always want to see her and be her friend and I want everyone to be nice to her.

I'm hoping we're still friends. Ever since her RMSA visit, she's hasn't returned my phone calls, won't answer text messages, doesn't respond to emails, hell, I'm surprised she decided to come. I got two calls, one to get Hector on the phone with Manolo and she said she didn't have time to talk. She called me again, but that was right before finals. By the time I finished my test and got outside to call her back, she was back to not answering my calls, so I checked with Connie. Connie returned her call but didn't get an answer. ML was lucky that she could talk when Steph called.

So part of me does want to know why she decided to come. Because Ranger came? If her only reason for coming here was because her man came, then she and Ranger coulda taken that somewhere else. If she came because she really wanna hang with me and be friends then I'm glad to see her.

So I guess Imma get my answer, on whether or not we still friends, over the next week. In the meantime, I wanna know why she quit. "OK, now tell me what's going on. Why did you resign?"

Momma returns to the kitchen and sits as Steph sighs. "Because I realized that I don't want to work for Ranger and I miss being independent." Momma gets up for a glass of sweet tea, but I'm already up, for the same thing, so I bring the pitcher over. "The other thing I realized is that if I stayed at RangeMan, I would always resent Tank, Les, and Bobby. It came down to choosing between my friendships and my job."

"Resent 'em? Why?" I take a big gulp of sweet tea and start on my bowl of étouffée. Momma splits a biscuit and slathers butter on it before passing it to me.

"They took over my life," she says, biting into a biscuit. "They had good intentions and I can't argue that they did, but I've spent the last few months, ever since my clearance, pissed off and angry at them. They had no right to do what they did and by the time I finally got the apology for it, I didn't want it."

Steph is staring at the door, butter on her chin. Momma passes her a napkin, cuts her a piece of flan and taps the plate with fork. "That's life, baby. By the time you get what you want, you never want it."

"Yeah. I finally got the apology and it was everything I ever wanted. It was sincere and nice and it came with a really sweet gift and champagne." Steph takes the fork, breaks off a piece of flan, and eats it, moaning the whole time. By the time she finishes that slice of flan, I'm halfway through my bowl of étouffée. I sit back, stomach tight, and smile.

"That's it?"

"No." She stands and take the plate over to the sink, then starts a sink of hot water. "OK, so Rod, from Boston, made me out to be the worst boss ever when he spoke to Ranger and, instead of backing me, Ranger listened to it and didn't say anything. Rod called me judgmental, said the Miami men, the most sexist assholes in the company, hated me, told Ranger that the Boston men, who I thought liked me, really didn't, and basically said that I wasn't that great a boss or leader and that Ranger really should've explained why he trusted me. And Ranger said nothing! Nothing!" She takes a deep breath and scrubs a plate.

Momma nods, as if to say Go on.

"But, like Ranger told me later, he wasn't my boyfriend in that moment. He was my boss and he had to hear Rod out." She looks directly at me and I freeze, stunned, my fork halfway to my mouth. "Ranger has always been the one person behind me when I fail. He never said anything, just picked me up when I fell and helped me carry on. But as my boss? I'm not automatically the first person he backs. He has to listen to what other people say and not say anything. Tank, Les and Bobby? Same thing."

Momma nods. "So now Ric and Pierre are judging your actions and they have to tell you you're wrong if you are."

She sighs. "Right. I'm not ready for that." She smiles a little. "I'm not ready to add the four of them to the list of people who have the right to tell me I'm a screwup. I want unconditional support from them. That's what I've always gotten from them, not blame. I don't need someone else to tell me how I screwed up. I already know!"

I finally finish that bite of étouffée and think. "What about Hector? He's your boss too—"

"But Hec has never been the one rescuing me for years. Our relationship started with Hector telling me I was a screwup and that if I didn't take the training seriously, he'd refuse to be my partner."

"So why did you stay partners with him?"

"Because Hector called me on my screwups, but he's also been the person to show me and teach me how to do things better. I wouldn't let the guys train me but I won't accept hearing I'm wrong from them either, which is unfair. My attitude was that if you didn't train me, you didn't have the right to call me a screwup."

"Seems fair to me," I reply.

Momma snorts. "No, honey, that's foolishness." We both freeze. "The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that listens to counsel is wise. Proverbs 12:15."

Steph wrings the dishcloth and sits at the table, quiet. I smile at Momma. "You know my Bible lessons are rusty."

She smiles and pats Steph's hands. "It's a warning not to rely on your own judgment and experience because we all foolish in our own way. A fool is one that never listens to the opinions or advice of others because they think they know everything. That's why you pray to God for wisdom and guidance, because it's impossible to know everything all the time."

I finish my bowl of étouffée and wash the few remaining dishes.

"Yeah," Steph whispers. "That's exactly it. I would listen to Hector but no one else. Bobby, Les, Tank … and Ranger have been trying to help me and train me for years, but I'd only accept it from Hector and even then, he had to frighten me to death to get me to take it seriously."

"What'd he do?"

She snorts and shakes her head. "He was teaching me how to get out of handcuffs and I wasn't paying attention … so he threw a black pillowcase over my head and started taunting me." My mouth drops. "He told me no one was coming to save me. No RangeMen. No Ranger. No Les, Tank, or Bobby. Not even you or my Mom. Everyone feared him and his reputation, so no one was going to break the doors down and take him on to rescue me. So how did I plan to rescue myself? How did I plan to get free?" Her jaw clenches. "I had a panic attack."

"And you still love him?" I ask, astonished.

She nods, a small smile on his face. "I'd always been pretty scared of Hector and I knew he wasn't playing. Hector left me there, handcuffed, for an hour before he did that. He made his point. After four years as a bounty hunter, I still relied on everyone to save me when I got over my head and that had to end. Hector doesn't play games when his life is at stake, so I needed to be serious to be his partner. Plus …" she sighs. "I knew Hec was gay so there wasn't this sense of 'Is he doing this to sleep with me?'"

I chuckle. "You really think Tank wanted to sleep with you?"

She blushes. "No, but knowing Hector was gay meant I never had to wonder either!"

Momma and I laugh.

"Anyway, as my bosses, Ranger, Tank, Les, and Bobby had the right to judge my work and tell me I was right or wrong, but they didn't train me. I wanted to throw it in their faces that I made a lot of changes and I grew their company, but it's their company. They built it in the first place. It wouldn't exist without them." She sighs. "I was tired of people telling me I was a drain on RangeMan when I was working so hard to do my best and it wasn't just them. It was everyone, but I took it out on them because they didn't give me any appreciation for everything I did.

But, as Hector kept telling me, you don't get praise for doing your job. I didn't get praise when I caught the guys who were burglarizing Trenton clients. I got a check for a job well done. Well, they hired me to do a job and they paid me for doing it, just like last time. They didn't owe me anything else but I wanted appreciation and praise this time. I wanted them to support me, unconditionally, like they'd always done. I wanted the praise I'd been getting for months when I was working to meet the standards or fixing problems in the company.

That's when I realized that if we were all going to remain friends, I had to leave. RangeMan is not my company. I've paid my debt, four years' worth. We're even and I'm done."

—oOo—

Tank's POV

Well, that was enlightening. We were headed to the sunroom when we heard Steph say that being in RangeMan meant that Ranger didn't automatically back her. Ric stopped dead in his tracks and we froze, hoping to hear more. We weren't disappointed.

"Thoughts?" I whisper.

"Relief," Ric replies.

Stephanie Plum, the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, took shit from no one. She got paid to do a job and the only thing that mattered was completion of the job. Not how she did it, when she did it, how long it took her to do it, etc. Just, did she succeed or not? For someone who can't take criticism, it was the perfect setup.

And she's right about the domino effect. She threw our help and support in our faces because, for the first time, it wasn't unconditional. It came with lots of strings attached (called responsibility). She wanted praise and appreciation but we didn't think that was necessary. You were hired to do a job. The paycheck is your thank you. If you need constant praise and attention, get a parrot and teach him to say what you want him to say. And telling people to go fuck themselves after they spend thirty minutes praising your performance is the perfect way to ensure you never get any praise again.

No one was ever going to win and she was the first one to say 'Bye'. Good move.

I'm glad she did. I was anticipating finishing those last three months and refusing to renew her contract. I wanted someone in her position that we could trust that was purely an employee and Les and Bobby felt the same, although they had not said anything. We needed to draw a nice thick line between friend and employee. Hector was the only person we ever allowed to straddle it and he started out as our employee.

Steph was a good employee but we've learned something new: Friend or employee. Not both.

I'm glad she realized I don't want to sleep with her either. Never did. Neither did Bobby. Les did, until this year. He's over that now, which is good. I don't see Ric being OK with that.

We continue on to the sunroom and sit in the rocking chairs. We're on the side of the house, unseen by anyone for at least four miles and that's just what we want. Ric takes a nap while I grab my phone and headphones and start listening to my brother's mix tapes. By the time he actually arrives I'm admiring his hustle again.

"Sup?" he yells. Ric jerks and reaches for his Glock, but I took it off him the moment he went to sleep. The confusion caused by not feeling his piece gives him a moment to fully wake up and look around. Antoine hit the floor, though. He's no fool.

First time he did that, Ric had his gun. Antoine woulda got shot straight in the heart had he not hit the floor as fast as he did.

My Momma looked at the bullet hole in the side of her house but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Ric felt like an idiot. He'd just gotten back from his first solo overseas assignment and he was still on a hair trigger.

"Not quite home yet, baby?" My momma'd said softly, rubbing his shoulder.

"No, ma'am," he'd replied, ashamed. "Mrs. CJ, I'm sorry. I'll repair that."

"Don't worry about it baby. Do me a favor: put the guns away, OK? Nobody's gonna get you here." She'd grinned big at him. "If they come after you, I got your back. Lemme go get my skillet and my Bible."

He'd leaned back in the chair and laughed, but he put the guns away. That's why he started doing his wind-down by himself in Miami. Just until he stopped being so jumpy. So the moment he went to sleep today, I took the guns off him again. He's mentally getting ready to go overseas, so his mindset is getting into that mode. I motion for Antoine to get up.

"One day, yo dumb ass gon' get shot and you'll learn not to do that shit," I mutter, holding Ric's gun up so Ric knows I have it and Antoine knows it's safe to get up. Ric exhales and gets comfortable again. Antoine gets up slow, smiling.

"Shit. That fucker's on a hair trigger, huh?"

"Yes," Ric mutters. "And you're setting it off."

"My bad, playboy. Yo, since it's Christmas, how about you and baby bro here"—I frown—"put the fucking guns away, huh? 'Bout to be lots of kids and my loud ass sisters in this house. And Pierre, you gotta admit my sister-in-law ain't a quiet woman."

"Neither is mine," Ric mutters. I smirk.

"Right. Hate for you to fuck around and shoot my momma."

Ric cracks one eye open and stares at Antoine but says nothing. Antoine's standing in front of us, arms crossed, smiling at Ric. Some things about my brother haven't changed. He still likes to poke at peoples' sensitive spots and he does it with a smile on his face, but his eyes are hard. He knows Ric loves my Momma and he's still upset about shooting her house, although he patched up that hole perfectly.

"You like living?"

"It's worked out for me. I'd like to continue trying it out."

"We'll lock the guns away," I reply, getting comfortable again. "Yo, Momma and Lula had to battle your fan club today here at the house."

He laughs and takes a seat, kicking off his shoes. "That bad?"

"We pulled up and they had pots of food, cakes, all kinda shit."

He laughs. Ric smiles. "Yeah. Nice of you to stick your momma and your sister in law with your problems instead of dealing with those women yourself."

I laugh mentally as Antoine bites his tongue. "I'm dealing with 'em. All the time. My studio is half-filled with 'em—"

"So you decided to share the bounty with your Momma and Lula?" Ric turns to me. "Didn't know Lula swung that way."

I grunt. Fool.

Now that they've both gotten a hit in, Ric gets comfortable to go back to sleep and Antoine turns to me and we start talking about his mix tapes. By the time we get around to dinner, everything is good and comfortable and I'm hoping for a good trip.

—oOo—

Steph's POV

Wilma and Thelma dropped by after dinner to give Lula the details on what they've done for the wedding. Wilma and Thelma love doing this with Lula, their words, because Lula's getting the dream wedding. Their weddings were wonderful, but "Tank is spoiling his sweet thang," Thelma'd said, poking Lula until she'd laughed. We opened the Lula's wedding planning folder and Lula updated everything. The RSVPs are starting to come back and she's shocked. Her 200 person wedding is definitely going to be over 200 people!

The few things that had been assigned to me were reassigned to Tank's sisters and, when I spotted Plan bachelorette party on Thelma's list, I was confused.

I'm the maid of honor! The bachelorette party is mine to plan!

"Hey, can I speak to you?" I ask Wilma and Thelma.

"Sure," Thelma replies, grabbing her purse. We walk outside onto the porch. It's almost nine and they're about to leave. I'm ready to go to sleep. It's been a long day and the time change isn't helping.

"You're planning the bachelorette party?" I ask Thelma.

"No," she replies, stifling a yawn. "I've planned the bachelorette party."

I'm stunned. "Why?"

"Because we want Lula to have one," Wilma says coolly.

"She's going to have one. I'll make sure of that."

"You don't have to," Thelma retorts. "We've done it."

"That's my responsibility! I'm paying for it. I'll do it."

Wilma snorts. "Honey, you haven't shown the least bit of interest in Tank and Lula's wedding. You showed up here and ate all the food, but you didn't help her put together the menu—"

"I helped her choose the cakes and desserts!"

They glance at each other. "Fine. You helped choose dessert. ML and Connie did the rest of the menu. Ms. Maria helped Lula find her dress—"

"Maria helped Lula decide on a style. I helped her find the dress and I helped find the bridesmaid, maid of honor, mother of the groom and flower girl dresses!" I look directly at Thelma. "Your little girl has the prettiest dress I could find."

This time the retort is a little slower in coming. "Fine," Thelma says coolly. "You helped Lula choose a dress and I'll admit the flower girl dress is adorable." I nod, satisfied. "My momma helped her find a church and a minister. Chenae's contacted vendors and gotten all the services booked, Thelma's helping keeping track of RSVPs and I'm helping Lula track the budget."

"What little you had you didn't do—"

"Wrong," I reply coldly. "What's normally done by a maid of honor has been done by all the people in Lula's life that love her. You, Mrs. CJ, Chenae, ML, Connie, and me. Everyone's split the duties. You have it easy because she's here and you're able to meet up with her to help plan this wedding. You guys can talk about it every day if you want. Me? Until yesterday, I was running your brother's company, so my time was more limited. So quit treating me as if I've done nothing! I have, especially when I've been with Lula to ask her opinions and do it with her."

The only sound now is the chirping of grasshoppers and the quiet buzz of bees. A slight breeze blows across the porch and we all shiver, still staring at each other. No one's dropping eye contact.

"OK," Wilma says, "we'll acknowledge that you're right. You were busy and everyone's pitched in. But you basically threw the responsibility for the bachelorette party on Chenae. We took it because our baby sister needs to concentrate on graduating, not doing your job." Wilma points her remote at her car and unlocks it. Thelma hands her the other planning folder and her purse and she heads to her car.

I take a deep breath. "I was going through a lot when I was here the first time—"

"We know. Lula said as much, so we didn't want you to have to struggle with anything you didn't want to do," Thelma says. Wilma returns, keys in hand.

"I asked Chenae for her help! I didn't ask her to plan it for me and I didn't ask either of you to do anything!" I reply angrily.

They look at each other. "You were planning Vegas, weren't you?"

"No. Well, I was when I was here, but after talking to Chenae and Lula, I switched to Mardi Gras."

"So Lula told us, which is why we took it on." Thelma smiles, crossing her arms across her chest.

"But I didn't have any say! I'm the host and the maid of honor! Lula is my best friend! I should have some say in how we celebrate my best friend's wedding!"

Wilma raises a brow. "Your best friend? The one you don't call? The one you don't talk to? The one you treated like shit the last time you were here?" My face is flaming.

"The one you didn't even tell you were coming?" Thelma scoffs. "When you start treating her like a friend, you can have some say in how things are done," Thelma says, taking a step forward. I hold my ground. "Last time you were here, you treated her like shit and haven't really spoken to her since. Now, Lula's too nice to say this, but we will: You don't get to ignore her then show up thinking all is forgiven just because you walked through the door and said 'Hey!' Have you even apologized for how you've been treating her? Or did you just assume your presence was the 'Sorry'?"

Again, there's nothing worse than knowing that someone else is right and you don't have a response. I try to control my breathing and let the pain of their words slide by me.

Thelma snorts. "Thought not. Try apologizing before you get upset that the other people in her life that care for her took up your slack."

"The moment we found out you intended to do Mardi Gras, we emailed you to let you know we were going to have a planning session for it," Wilma says softly. "You ignored the email, so we planned that bachelorette party with Connie, ML and Jackie." I swallow hard. "What? Did you think you'd plan a Mardi Gras bachelorette party at the last minute? Mardi Gras is huge in New Orleans! There isn't a hotel left! Chenae had to hustle, work her network and finally call in a favor from an old friend to get us in the suite we're in!"

Thelma places a hand on Wilma's shoulder and squeezes until she takes a deep breath then turns to me. "Her bridesmaids and sisters-in-law got together to plan it and make sure she'd have one and everyone's paying for it equally. You don't have to pay for it and you don't have to attend if you don't want to."

They walk to Wilma's car and open the doors. "If you still want to plan something," Wilma says, "we haven't planned the bridal shower. If you want to help us do that tomorrow, see you then."

They leave and I sit on the porch swing outside. It's nine at night and it's still hot and humid here. I'm staring off into space, trying not to think of everything I gained and gave up this year, when I feel someone sit down beside me.

"You OK, White Girl?"

I snort then turn to her. "Your future sisters-in-law hate me."

Lula snorts. "They clannish."

"No, they're rude and mean."

"No, they're not." I turn to tell Lula what Wilma and Thelma said, but the look on her face stops me. "I overheard everything. They're right. You don't call. You ignore texts. You ignore emails. You came here two months ago and tried to make my planning trip into your pity party. It was all about you when that weekend was supposed to be all about me!"

"Lula—"

"Everything's always about you, Stephanie! Always! For once, it was about me. My wedding! My girlfriends! My chance to show you guys what I was doing and how I was living and you still stole all the attention from me! I mean, is there room in your world for anyone else to be the center of attention?"

The tears are streaming down Lula's face and mine. I don't have an answer for that.

"And now you wanna get in Wilma and Thelma's face for planning my bachelorette party when you had months to do it? Why are you here? Why did you even come here?"

I fumble for an answer that won't make me sound conceited and self-centered, but I don't have one. I came because I wanted to spend Christmas with Ranger and this was where he was going. He made it clear he was coming here whether or not I did. Then I thought about getting some time to talk with Mrs. CJ again. Maybe she could make my life clear for me like she did last time.

Only later, once Tank told me that he and I would be OK again if Lula and I were OK again, did I remember that I could see Lula on this trip.

Lula snorts. "You came because Ranger was coming?" I nod, miserable. "Go home." She gets up and walks to the door.

"Lula! Stop." She turns to look at me, her jaw set. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about making your wedding planning weekend a disaster. I'm sorry I haven't been calling. I'm sorry I haven't been a good friend lately." I stand and lean against the porch railing. "I'm so sorry, Lula. I am happy you and Tank are getting married. I'm happy you're happy. I want to see what you've been doing and I'm happy you passed this semester with all As. No, I'm proud of you. I'm really happy for you and … it's hard to see."

"Why?"

I attempt a weak smile. "Because your life is great. You have a great family around you and friends and Tank loves you and … the San Antonio RangeMen love you and everyone gets to see the Lula I always saw." She finally starts smiling. "I'm happy and jealous."

"Jealous of me?" she asks softly. "Why?" She retakes her seat on the swing. "Steph, you got family that loves you. I'm grateful Tank's family loves me because mine abandoned me. Yours never has. You got friends that got your back even when you treat 'em like shit." I cringe. "You got Batman to admit he loves you and you and him working on getting together, but even before Batman you had SuperCop! You got plenty of RangeMen, all over that company, who love you. The Trenton men hate me and you know it!"

I try to hide a smile.

"So what are you jealous of? I'm finally getting a little bit of what you've always had!" The bald way she says it makes me laugh and my laughter makes her laugh. Tank sticks his head out of the door and we both smile. He smiles, nods, and walks away.

"Yeah. I've been lucky," I mutter.

"Yeah, you have. You always had lots of choices and people who love you and will be there for you. I haven't."

Lula wiggles back in the swing and pushes off with her feet. The swing creaks for a moment, but quickly settles and moves back and forth smoothly. We don't say anything, just listen to the grasshoppers and the occasional creak from the swing's chain.

"Are we OK again?"

She shakes her head. "Yeah, we're cool."

I exhales, relieved. "I'm going to therapy, remember?" I whisper.

"Good," she replies softly. "You need to call ML and Connie too and talk to them." I nod. "Look, we don't always have time to lie to you until you feel better and can handle the truth. You need to learn how to handle hearing the truth from the people you trust right off the bat. Work on that in therapy, OK?" I nod. "That day? I was trying to help you save your job and your friendships, if that's what you wanted. I know you. I know you woulda waited weeks for Tank, Bobby, and Les to apologize and it wouldn't have happened. They owed you an apology but you told them to go fuck themselves. You needed to apologize first."

"I know now," I mutter.

"OK then. Plus, I want you to think about this." I look over; Lula's face is solemn. "You said earlier that Ranger had always picked you up, brushed you off and helped you when you screwed up but he never said anything. So how often do you think he's bitten his tongue with you? Wanted to offer you help but knew you wouldn't accept? How you think you gon' have a relationship with someone who can't ever tell you what he really thinks because he knows you can't handle the truth?" She stops the swing and stands. "I might have wanted to kill Tank when we broke up, especially for choosing those damn cats over me, but at least he didn't lie about why we were breaking up. All of it was stupid and I was pissed with him, but at least he told the truth."

"You're really OK with the fact that you guys broke up over the cats?" I raise a brow.

"Hell no and we did break up over more than that. But when we got back together it meant I knew that if we were gonna be permanent, I needed to make a choice. Was Tank worth allergy shots or not?"

"Lula, he chose the cats over you. Cats, Lula."

She opens the door and we walk back in. She locks the doors and sets the alarm.

"Steph?" I look over. She's serious again. "I can't have kids, so those cats are the closest we'll ever come. Would you get rid of Rex if Ranger couldn't stand him?"

"NO!" Just the thought causes me to worry. I'm sure he's OK. Ella's taking care of him but I need to go get him soon.

She smiles smugly. "You'd choose the furry rat over Ranger, but Tank's wrong to choose the cats?"

Well, when you put it like that … Lula waves and we both enter our respective bedrooms. Ranger's already in bed, sitting up, reading on his laptop.

"You two OK again?"

"Yes." I close the door and change into a pair of Ranger's boxers and his t-shirt. He has a tiny smile on his face.

"What happened?"

"Wilma and Thelma planned Lula's bachelorette party."

"And?"

"Who planned Tank's bachelor party?

Ranger's dark eyes are trained on my face, unblinking. "I did."

"Exactly. I asked Chenae to help me, but Wilma and Thelma took over from Chenae and just did it. They planned everything: gambling, a strip club—"

"Strip club?" Ranger asks, looking as if he'd like to smile.

"Her last chance to look at her options."

Ranger smiles.

"Their plans are great and it's just what I would do and stuff I wouldn't have thought of, but …"

"They did it for you?"

"Yes." I slide closer and he pulls me in tight. "I know I haven't been a great maid of honor, but everything that the maid of honor normally does has been done by everyone else. It's like everyone's saying you're a horrible horrible person so we'll do your job for you and you can just stand there."

"Sounds like guilt, Babe."

I sigh. It is. I do feel guilty that I haven't helped Lula. She's my best friend and Tank was right when he said when my woman calls you, you can't be bothered to answer. But in a month, when you need her, she'll answer you and you'll expect her to. I do expect Lula to be there for me when I start therapy. I even asked Ranger to fly her in for me, but she's been asking for my opinion and wanting to talk to me and I was too angry with her to talk to her. What kind of friend is that?

"What are the maid of honor duties?"

I search online and find a list to read aloud. At the end, I roll over and stare at him.

"Sounds like most of that is done the day of." I look at the list again. "And there's nothing stopping you from adding to the bachelorette party if you want, although …"

"What?"

"This is the first time you've attended Mardi Gras, right?"

"Yeah."

I can feel Ranger's chuckle. "Then let Wilma, Thelma, and Chenae knock themselves out with the planning. You enjoy the experience."

"I plan to." I fluff my pillow and stare at the ceiling. "Lula and I finally talked."

"Good. Friendship back on track?"

"Yeah." I hope so. Ranger closes the laptop and I get comfortable in my Ranger cocoon. "Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you plan for Tank's bachelor party?"

"You don't want to know."

—oOo—

Ranger's POV

The next few days are exactly what I need. I start the cardio and weight training with Tank, getting ready to go overseas. I listen to the news, read the newspapers and try to find out everything I can about the political and military situation in the area. Tank and I speak in Arabic exclusively (and I try my best not to break Antoine for all the 'terrorist' jokes. Still has his asshole moments, that one) and Mrs. CJ starts feeding me veggies and whole grains again.

Lula and Steph are almost back to normal. Steph's giving Lula her attention about the wedding and they made a few changes, but overall, she's just listened to Lula go on (and on and on) about the wedding and been excited for her. The ladies decided to hold an open bridal shower, so Antoine and I joined Steph and the sisters to plan it out. It'll be pretty laid back, in contrast to the bachelor and bachelorette parties. I get the feeling, listening to them talk, that the bachelorette party will resemble a bachelor party more than the actual bachelor party will.

Lula had a word with Wilma and Thelma so the tension between them and Steph is there, but not like the first day. It gets progressively better over the next few days and by the time Chenae arrives four days later, it's gone. The ladies take over the kitchen and listen to Chenae describe her trip to Atlanta. She's just started telling the ladies about the annual Christmas bash for charity (Mère raised $94,000 before all the matches! The woman has a skill at parting people from their money) when Antoine pokes Tank and jerks his head toward the kitchen.

"He's just gorgeous," Chenae swoons.

"What's his name?" Mrs. CJ asks.

"Chase," she says, sighing. Tank's eyes catch mine and we both raise a brow. "He's Bobby's cousin and he's even more handsome than Bobby! He has these dimples …"

Antoine's frowning. Barry and David smirk at each other.

"Bobby has a dimple, Shug."

"But Chase has dimples in both cheeks! He's just … gorgeous," she sighs.

"Better looking than Bobby?" Lula teases.

"Well …" All the ladies start laughing. "I mean, on the Denzel-Flava Flav scale of fine, Bobby will always be Denzel." We're quietly cracking up. The ladies are hooting. "But Chase is Morris Chestnut fine."

"Damn! That's Denzel levels!" Thelma says.

"Is that possible?" Wilma asks. "You've been in love with Bobby forever, honey!"

"Oh, it's definitely possible. Look! I have pictures." There's a moment of silence before we hear giggles.

"Oh, he is a handsome man!" Mrs. CJ says. "He looks good in that tuxedo!"

"And out of it," Wilma says. We hear more giggling. Out of it? We're looking at each other in confusion. I move my pawn and Tank moves a bishop. Hmm …

"He's a really nice guy," Steph says.

"You've met him?"

"Yes. He's really nice, and smart, and he's a gentleman."

There's lots of squealing. Tank and his brothers look ready to vomit.

"Wait! The most important question. Shug, how old is he?"

"Umm…" Clearly Chenae knows and doesn't want to say.

"About twenty-seven," Steph says. "I know he's under thirty but close to it."

"Shug!" Thelma sounds exasperated. "We told you to find a man closer to your own age!"

"He's closer than Bobby!"

"She's gotta point there," Lula says.

"Look, men my age have never really interested me. Chase does. He's mature. He has a good job, he's handsome, and he's a gentleman. He didn't play games either. He told me he wants to see me when I move to Atlanta," Chenae says sing-song. Tank sits up, a slight frown on his face. "He offered me his apartment to move into."

"You gonna give him some action?" Lula says.

"Maybe." There's more giggling. Tank and Antoine are staring at the door in horror. I've put my blank face in place. "He tried to look down my dress! I told him he had to put a ring on it to see more!"

I grab my cell phone and type a quick message.

Tell your cousin to lie low. Tank knows!

SHIT!

Did he really try to peep down her dress?

Yeah.

He should consider disappearing.

I'll let him know.

The ladies are still laughing but Tank and Antoine are nodding at each other. Chase was invited to the wedding (all RangeMan management was) but he may need to spend that time in hiding.

"Well, how did your interview go?" Steph asks. Thanks, Babe. Please change the subject. Tank looks ready to catch a quick flight to Charlotte.

"I have a conditional offer from Gennie, contingent on my graduating in May!" Everyone cheers and Tank nods, a big grin on his face. "I'm so happy! And I'll make $50,000."

"Whoa!"

Barry's and David's mouths drops. So does Antoine's. I'm wondering if that's really starting salary for whatever Chenae's title will be or if Bobby persuaded his sister to pad it a little.

"Yeah. It's nowhere near what I'd make if I actually had a business degree or the certifications I want, but it's a great starting point. I'll make decent money, study hard for my certifications under a successful stockbroker, and move into my field as long as I'm willing to work hard."

"Decent money?" David whispers. "If $50,000 is decent money for a brand new college graduate, what's obscene?"

We shrug. Damn good question.

Yo. What's start sal for Chenae's job?

$65K, if she were studying for her Series exams.

So is she being over or under paid?

"That's good," Mrs. CJ says and I can almost guess what she'll say next. "Now you need to remember to thank Jesus for your blessings."

"Yes ma'am." Chenae is quiet. "I have a lot of people to thank but I'll start with you, Lula."

"Me?"

No one in the living room is moving. We're all staring at the door, interested in what Chenae will say. My phone beeps. Bobby.

Under. She has the track record with the inv fund N Tank's portfolio 2 buoy her and Gen was impressed w/her knowledge. Lack of degree is killing her.

Damn.

Yeah. If she had any kind of business degree, Gennie woulda offered 65.

I hand Tank the phone. He whistles. "Damn," he whispers. "I should have listened to Bobby years ago." He passes the phone to Antoine, then Barry and David.

"I'm telling you, we're in the wrong field," Barry says to David. Both Barry and David are teachers.

"Yeah. Thank you for taking the time to be honest with me, Lula," Chenae says. "It helped me be honest with myself. I'm not cut out to be a social worker and Pierre will still love me." Tank smiles. There's some sniffling and muttering that makes us all smile. "So thank you for not giving up on me."

"I'll be damned," David whispers. "Shug learned the meaning of humble."

We snicker.

"You're welcome, Baby Shug, but just because you won't be a social worker, don't think it's OK to judge people."

"I won't." She laughs a little. "I saw that at the Christmas party."

"Oh yeah?" Wilma asks.

"Yeah. Bobby told me I was selfish and I had too much ego. I mean, Bobby told me I was selfish."

"Bobby's arrogant," Steph says. "I'd let that roll off my back."

There's a chorus of snorts both in the kitchen and in the living room. I hide a smile, as does Tank. Steph's gonna stand alone in that opinion in this house. Robert Brown is beloved here.

"No, he's not arrogant even though he has plenty of reasons to be. He's a pretty humble person. Bobby once told me that the women in Atlanta look at him and see a thug and I thought they had to be blind or stupid. I mean, who could look at Bobby and think thug?"

There's a chorus of responses that pretty much agree with Chenae there. Tank and I are smirking. Put a gold grill on Bobby's teeth and sagging pants on his butt. Bobby's fooled Bloods and Gangster Disciples on the West Coast into thinking he's down.

"Well, the first two days we were there, Bobby took me on a tour of Atlanta. We went to the mall and looking at apartment complexes, just in case I got the job, and I got to see what he meant. Women ignored him because he wore his Timberland boots and sagging jeans and he still had those braids in his hair. Then I got to that party and saw Bobby in his tux, with a fresh haircut, and women were following him all night! It was amazing."

"Did you get a picture of that?" Thelma asks. There's some giggling and a whistle. "Umph umph umph! I love my husband, but Bobby does clean up nice!"

Barry flips a finger at the door.

"Then we went back to the same places the next day, only this time, Bobby was dressed like … a professional and the same women who ignored him the first time fell over themselves to help him that time." She sniffs. "It proved his point, his, yours, and Pierre's. He was still the same man. The only thing that changed was the clothing and that didn't matter. When I had to sell all my clothing to pay for my parking permit, people treated me different, but I thought it was just because they enjoyed laughing at me."

I wonder how long it will take Chenae to realize that they were enjoying her downfall.

"Right. Clothes don't mean anything, baby. They just give people a basis to judge you and people can change clothes. Clothes, shoes, cars, all that stuff is here today gone tomorrow." There's a chorus of 'Amen's' and 'Preach it, Momma!'.

"Right. I understand that now." Chenae bit into something because she's talking with a full mouth. "I spent years trying to live up to what Pierre expected, trying to be a lady, the kind Bobby would admire, but he told me that what I thought of as sophistication was arrogance. I thought I was better than everyone and I got to see what he meant being around his family. Family, volunteering, church, those were the important things in his family. Noblesse oblige. One of his mother's first questions to me was where I liked to give my time and I realized I don't. I don't give back and I've been blessed for years.

His mother? She's known for philanthropy and charity fund-raising. If you have a cause, she has time. His sisters? The moment Gennie offered me the job, she gave me her cell phone number and told me to call her if I needed anything and she's due to have her baby in a few weeks! She and her sister Jacqueline gave me a checklist of things I need to do to move to Atlanta and Bobby told me to call him if I need help and he'll help me." Chenae sniffs. "Pierre cut me off and I just realized how hard that move is gonna be with no money but …" She giggles. "Chase offered me his apartment. He's based in Charlotte right now and it's close to Gennie's office, so I could bike to work and not have to drive."

"Hmm… that's not a bad move," Thelma says. "You don't have to come up with a security deposit and you save money not driving your car. One thing: You move in a man's apartment and … how do you plan to pay him?"

"In cash, Thelma. It wasn't that kind of offer."

"Still, you think moving in with a man who's already made it clear he has a sexual interest in you is a good move?"

Tank and Antoine are nodding. Barry and David are chuckling as if to say that girl doesn't have a bit of sense.

"Well … I asked Bobby for his opinion and he told me he trusts his cousin. If I move in, Chase will move out and allow me privacy. He has the RangeMan apartment anyway. I haven't said I will. I just have it as an option."

Antoine and Tank are looking at each other with a Hell no! look on their faces. Barry and David have tears running down their cheeks.

"If I move into Chase's apartment, that gives me some time to save money and find a place of my own in Atlanta. Bobby said that was a good move because there are a lot of places in Atlanta and each city and each neighborhood has its own vibe. If I find myself in one area more than another, I should move there."

Bobby's gonna be a dead man. I look at Tank, who rolls his eyes. Gonna help her move?

I'll buy her a fucking condo before I allow her to move in with Chase.

Is now a good time to point out you and Antoine have something else in common?

Move, Ric.

I move my pawn and Tank, forgetting the long game, goes for it.

—oOo—

Tank's POV

Bobby's lost his fucking mind if he thinks my Baby Shug moving into Chase's apartment is a good idea.

I throw the game with Ric and walk outside to call Bobby. I turn and Antoine's with me. I raise a brow.

"I agree. No fucking way," he says, folding his arms across his chest.

Music and Chenae. We now have two things in common.

"Yo!"

I put the phone on speaker. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Hello to you too, Tank. How's the family?"

"They're fine. In shock that you think that Chenae moving into Chase's apartment is a good idea!"

He chuckles. "Yeah, I thought that's what this call would be about—"

"You damn right!" Antoine yells.

"Antoine too? Damn. OK, let me make this clear: your baby sister is a grown woman."

No she's not! "Bobby—"

"Listen to me, Tank. Chenae is moving, by herself, to one of America's biggest cities where she has no family, no friends, no one except, ta-da! Me and my family. Chenae may get on my nerves sometimes, but she's your little sister so she's still family to me. She impressed my sister enough to get a job. She impressed my mother so much that Mère is ready to get her on some philanthropic boards and into the local AKA chapter here so Chenae can start making those connections. Père is ready to pitch in with all those 'Dad' sort of things, like checking her car and making sure she has gas money, the same stuff you'd do. I'd keep going but I think it's unnecessary. In short, my family is ready to be her Atlanta family and support her like your family has always supported me."

That makes me feel good but, "Moving into Chase's apartment? You think that's a wise move?"

"Chenae doesn't have the money for a security deposit to move into a place here. You cut her off, remember? Now, I don't think you should help her because she lost your backing due to her own actions and she needs to learn how to stand up on her own, but I can at least cushion the blow. Mère and Père would allow her to live with them, but they're putting the house on the market sometime around June. We gave my Buckhead place to Hector and the rest of my real estate is mostly commercial. Chase is rarely in Atlanta, his apartment is close to Gennie's office, and it has RangeMan protections on it. I considered it a smart move."

"And we'd be cool with this if Chase didn't want to make a move on Shug!" Antoine says.

"Chase isn't stupid," Bobby replies. "He likes her but he knows she needs to get settled and that Gennie's gonna push her. He's still helping Mando build the Charlotte branch so he's gonna work on being friends with her more than anything. And it's not like I'm going to abandon her. I'll introduce her to some people I know and get her involved in some things. Case in point: She's close to Nikki's age. Perfect reason to introduce her to someone very much like her, an Atlanta native, and connected to someone we know and trust, our own brother. Nikki lost touch with a lot of her friends and she wants to get out more. Perfect reason for those two to hang out."

I really do hate that Bobby rarely leaves a hole in his plans. "I still don't like this," I mutter. "And Chase is too old."

"Doesn't matter. Tank, you have succeeded in your plan. Your three sisters will graduate college without having had babies. Your two eldest got married then had their babies. Chenae is the only one left and she's more sheltered than the rest, but the moment she graduates, you can no longer control her life. She'll have to make her own decisions, good and bad, and unlike Wilma and Thelma, she won't have you or Mrs. CJ watching her at every moment.

Like I said, my family is ready to step in and watch out for her. We know how easy it is to misstep in Atlanta. We won't allow that to happen to her but we're also not going to hover over her. She's a woman now. Time to make her own decisions and if she feels, ultimately, that moving into Chase's apartment is a good short-term move, you have nothing to say about it. You just have to trust your baby sister to make a good decision and you have to trust that your employee, who knows your feelings about Shug, won't do something that will put his life in danger." Bobby chuckles. "Believe me, the moment I told him that Shug was your mija, he didn't want to touch her with a ten foot pole!"

"It's the fucker's pole we're worried about," Antoine mutters.

Bobby laughs. "Hey, it's gonna happen someday but I will say this: she was quick to tell him her status and shut him down. He knows how getting into those panties is gonna go. So I think Shug can handle men on her own."

Good. Good to know Chase isn't stupid and nice to see Chenae value herself enough to wait for the right man. I'm proud of my baby girl.

"Again, Tank, you succeeded. Your baby is about to graduate as an honor graduate and take on the world. Moving to Atlanta is a great move for her and my family will keep an eye on her. She's gonna spread her wings and fly away and all you can do now is watch. Just like when I invited her out here. I called her and asked her if she wanted to come. I didn't tell you. I didn't even give you a heads up because it was her decision to make. She's an adult.

Time to let go, bro. You've raised her and done all you can do. Time for her to stand on her own two feet now. She's surviving in New Orleans, isn't she?"

Antoine shrugs his shoulders and nods. I know he slips her a few dollars on occasion, him and Momma, but she's learning how to stretch her pennies.

"Yeah, she's making it," Antoine says.

"Well, she's landed a good job in Atlanta. She'll learn how to make it here. Making it here will be the making of her."

—oOo—

Steph's POV

Lula and I decide to get away from everyone for a while and just get out, so we head into Lafayette and do some shopping. The mall isn't as big as Quakerbridge Mall but it does have a Macy's, so Lula and I head straight there and hit the sale racks.

The diet and exercise have really helped. Instead of looking like a size 16 in a size 6 world, Lula now looks like a size 12 or 14 in a size 4 world. She's also not picking up spandex and tight clothes anymore.

"What's up with that?" I ask as we check out. Most of Lula's picks were size 10 or 12, almost her actual size.

"Huh?" She looks at the pink python print skirt in her hand critically and puts it back. "Oh. Girl, it's too hot around here for that! I tried to wear some of my Spandex here and damn near died of heatstroke!" I snicker. "No joke! Momma told me people die of heatstroke 'round here all the time and she wanted me to dress for comfort. Buy stuff that breathed. Girl, she tossed half my Spandex!"

Mrs. Carol Jean LaPierre can produce miracles! "More wrap dresses?"

She smirks. "Tankie does love 'em." I laugh. "I called Candy and asked her where she buys her clothes."

"And?"

"She told me to buy what I liked then have it tailored to fit me. Tankie said the same thing. If he doesn't get his stuff tailored, it looks loose and sloppy on him. So I buy what I like, then Mrs. CJ takes it in for me. She's trying to teach me how to do it, but I don't have the patience. I take my stuff to a tailor in San Antonio." She finishes paying for her stuff and we start walking the mall, headed to Victoria's Secret.

"So, anyway, Vinnie and Connie are at each other's throats about how many skips he's bringing in each week. Now that he gotta do it again, he realize he didn't pay you shit!"

I snort and point to another store, so we change direction and walk in. "You mean, he's broke?"

Lula laughs. "He's tryna to convince Connie to fire David, but the business is too big for one bounty hunter. Melvin loves doing the office work and since Connie sends them their files automatically, she never has to look at 'em. Girl, she loves it! Y'all talking 'bout going national with the bonds office?"

"Yeah." I spot a black leather skirt and grab it. I've been looking for something like this.

"She can't wait."

Lula continues to bring me up to date on what's going on in Trenton. It's making me homesick and making me miss RangeMan a little, but I gotta move on. I've moved to Miami and I quit. I'm not going back. I spot a really cute top to go with the leather skirt and add that to my pile.

"What's it like living with Tank?"

Lula stops her story and stares at me. "Whad'ya mean?"

I shrug. "I haven't really lived with him." I stare at her and she nods. "When we're both in the house, it's like two people in one space. We do our thing and meet up for meals and bed. I expected … I don't know."

She snorts. "You were married. What was it like then?"

I don't want to think about Dickie but I try to remember. "We would bump into each other trying to get dressed in the morning, leave, come home, eat, and go to bed. Occasionally we'd have sex." I shrug. "Repeat."

"Well, it's about the same thing."

Depressing. "Really?"

"Yeah. More sex than your story,"—she smirks. I laugh.—"but about the same. Tankie makes an effort. He'll pick me up at school and take me out for lunch or he'll leave flowers in my car. I'll come home and he's made dinner. He'll follow me around when I go shopping on the weekends." She spots a bright pink furry top and adds it to her pile. "We just try to spend time together."

"How are you gonna handle him being on the go next year?"

"I dunno. Keep busy, I guess." She sighs. "I got classes and the wedding to keep me busy but we talk every night. Even if it's just to say 'hey', we talk." She looks over. I'm sure my face has a look of disbelief on it. "OK, I talk." I laugh. "But sometimes that's all I need, for him to listen. What were you expecting, Steph?"

I shrug. "I dunno. I guess I expected him to be more—"

My attention is caught by the sight of a man I know I've spotted three times before trying to duck behind the mall directory. He's been following us around this mall for at least the past hour and I want to know who he is.

"Lula!" I hiss. Her head pops up above the racks. "Do we have any FTAs in this area?"

"No. Why?"

I drop to the floor and crawl over to her, keeping an eye on the guy following me. "See that guy?"

"Who?!" She turns around and starts looking, drawing attention to herself.

"SHH!" I yank her back down to the floor. "Just peek. Blue jeans, white tee, black ball cap."

Lula pops her head back up and looks around. "Yeah. What about it? You think he's FTA?"

"I don't know. I don't know the San Antonio RangeMen either. Is he one?"

She pops up and takes another look. "No. He's not a trainee either."

"OK, what do you think?"

"Dunno." She starts looking around for exits. "You gotta piece?"

"Yeah." My Glock is in my back. I check and my permit to carry is in my purse. Crap! What's Louisiana law on carrying concealed? Oh well, we shouldn't need to shoot anyway.

"OK. Imma head to the Escalade. If he follows me, you get behind him. If he doesn't, call me and lemme know. I'll pull up and you get in and let's see if he follow us."

"Good plan."

We both stand up, pay for our stuff, and walk to the store entrance. "Hey, we parked near the food court, right?"

"Yeah?"

"OK, follow my lead." I jog a little ahead of her and yell back, "I'm going to get some ice cream! You want anything?"

"Yeah! A cone with everything."

"OK." I stop, pretending to pull my wallet out, and watch as the guy immediately starts following Lula. I grab my phone and hit the speed dial for Tank.

"Yo."

"Black male, about twenty, 5'10, 150, blue jeans, white tee, black ball cap, been following us for about an hour. I'm behind him. He's following Lula. We're gonna try to trap him."

"On the way. Stay on the line."

"OK."

I glance up and spot Thelma, Wilma, and Chenae walking toward Lula. Oh no! I groan and jump up and down, trying to get their attention before they meet up with Lula. Chenae spots me and frowns. I point to Lula and motion for them to move away. They frown in confusion before Chenae spots Lula. She looks back at me, looks at Lula, who is still walking to the entrance, and seems to get the hint. She moves her sisters away and I run quickly to catch the mark, but he's already caught up to Lula.

"Yo, miss—"

He grabs her arm, but Lula spins around, sticking her leg out. He goes down hard and Lula immediately puts a knee in his back and drops her shopping bags on his head.

"Who the hell are you!?" she yells. "Sneaking up on me like that! You lost your mind?"

Mall security runs over, but I'm already at Lula. I handcuff him and Lula flips him over. The guy is groaning.

"Shit! You bitches crazy?"

"Bitches?! Who you callin' bitches!?" Lula yells. Wilma, Thelma, and Chenae run over, looking frightened and angry.

"You, ya crazy bitch! Shit! I just wanted to give you my fucking demo, but yo' ass is crazy!"

"Demo?" I look up at Thelma's shaking her head. "Damn. You trying to get in touch with Antoine?"

"Yeah," the man mutters. I help him sit up then turn to Mall Security.

"I'm Ms. Jackson's bodyguard." I rummage through my purse, looking for my bodyguard and bounty hunter licenses. Lula starts laughing behind me. "She's a VIP and needs protection." I look over at her and she grins.

"Damn skippy," she says, helping the mark to his feet. I find my bodyguard license and turn it over to the mall security agent just as Tank, Ranger, and Antoine arrive.

"Lula?" Tank asks, folding his arms across his chest.

"Don't worry, we got it. My bodyguard had my back," Lula says, laughing. I see the corners of Ranger's mouth tip up.

"Yeah." I motion to the mark as mall security hand me my license. "Antoine, this man has a demo for you."

"A demo?" Antoine rubs his forehead as Tank turns to him. "Yo, who are you?"

"We don't care," Lula says. "I've had enough for one day." I release the handcuffs and Lula and I grab our bags.

"You know, ice cream doesn't sound bad." I glance at Lula.

"Yeah, shopping and taking a man down is hard work."

"I think we deserve a treat."

"Sounds good! With extra sprinkles, in a waffle cone. Tank, I don't need a reminder. I had a man following me for an hour. I need ice cream!"

I smile at Ranger. "I had to cuff someone. I think that calls for ice cream."

"Have fun." He squeezes my hand and Lula and I leave the mall. We climb in the Escalade and Lula starts the truck and blasts the air, but we don't move. We watch as Thelma, Wilma, and Chenae exit the mall and get into their car. Antoine, Ranger, and Tank leave shortly after with the guy we tackled behind them. Lula finally puts the car in gear and pulls out.

"White Girl?"

"Yeah."

"Tackling skips? That's something I can't do with no one else."

I turn to her. "I miss it." For the first time in months, I felt … normal again.

She grins. "Me too, Steph. Me too."

—oOo—

Chenae's POV

Wilma, Thelma and I climb in Thelma's minivan and just sit for a minute. We spot Lula in the Escalade with Stephanie, watching the entrance, and my brothers and Ranger leaving with Jamel, the 'demo' guy.

"I don't know if I was frightened, angry, amused …" Thelma is shaking her head.

"I know," Wilma says softly. "That was unreal. Pierre always said that was reality, but …"

It was unreal. We wanted to meet up with Lula and Stephanie and hang out with them, but since they didn't invite us to go to the mall with them, we wanted it to look like a chance encounter. When we finally spotted Lula, we were happy to see her.

Then I spotted Stephanie jumping up and down like an idiot in the middle of the mall. Her face was tense and she pointed for us to move. I didn't know what was going on, but I told my sisters to move and not walk toward Lula.

We didn't see the guy following Lula until too late, but the way my future sister-in-law took him down was amazing. She was calm about it. No fear. Just a low roundhouse kick, a knee to the back, and she dropped her heavy shopping bags on his head. Then Stephanie ran up and handcuffed him and the two of them working together, like partners …

I finally understood why they were friends. It was a perfect partnership. Each of them did their thing and together, they brought down their man.

It was the way I would expect to see Pierre working with his friends.

"Well, if that's the Stephanie Plum they knew in New Jersey, I finally get it," Wilma says.

"Me too." Thelma starts the car. "That was amazing."

I sit in the backseat, silent and embarrassed.

I always expected you to bring home someone classy. Someone educated, with degrees and sophistication. Someone independent. Someone I could admire. There's nothing special about her. I saw the papers of her and her 'friend.' The friend is barely competent at her job.

I was wrong. How utterly stupid and wrong I was.