Family, Faith, and Forgiveness, Part II
Steph's POV
It's Christmas Eve and I'm sitting outside in Mrs. CJ's rose garden. It's five, 1700, and the sun is starting to go down. It's nearly Christmas. My first Christmas without my family all around me.
It's lonely.
Lula and I have had a great time so far this week. We've shopped, talked, and just relaxed. Same for Ranger and Tank, but I can feel Ranger distancing himself from me and getting ready for this mission. I'm OK with that; whatever keeps him alive, I guess.
"You look happy." I blink; Mrs. CJ has a fleece blanket in her hands and I take it gratefully, only just recognizing that I'm shivering. She takes a seat near me on the bench, careful not to chip her new manicure. "What put that pretty smile on your face?"
"I'm happy." Biggest lie ever told.
She exhales and looks around her garden. "Umm hmm. Whenever you ready to tell me the truth, chile, I'm listening."
We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, admiring her amaryllis and her neat flower and vegetable beds. I don't have a green thumb, unless growing mold counts.
"Mrs. CJ?"
"Hmm?"
"May I ask a personal question?"
"Sure, baby. What is it?"
I take a deep breath. "Last time I was here, you said you understood what it was like to not know who you are. How? I mean,—"
She chuckles. "I know what you mean." She doesn't say anything at first, just stares around the garden. "I had Antoine at sixteen," she says softly. "Sixteen, baby. What did I know about life? I was a mother and a wife before I knew who I was. My husband loved me but he was weak. Selfish. He liked to blame me for all his problems. Whenever something went wrong in his life, it was my fault. By the time he died, I believed that."
"Mrs. CJ …" I don't know what to say. Joe flashed in my mind for a quick moment while she was speaking and I banished that. No, Joe wasn't, isn't, like that. He's just … we drove each other nuts, but I know, in my heart, that Joe is not abusive. He's not. We just weren't right for each other. Dickie was a crackhead and an asshole, but he wasn't abusive either.
Right?
She wipes her eyes and smiles. "Baby, I was widow and I'd never been a woman, not like you girls. I'd never gone clubbing and had fun. I'd never gone to college or traveled around the world. All I'd ever known was babies and hard work. Then my husband died telling me how sorry he was in his last breath. I was confused." She squeezes my hand. "You called it whiplash?" I nod. "Not trusting what you see right in front of your eyes? Not believing what you hear because it's so different from what you know?"
I nod, pained, tears in my eyes again. She does understand. Mrs. CJ is the only person who understands! "So what did you do?"
"Same thing you did. Cried. Walked around looking like the living dead. Closed myself off to people. I mean, who could I trust?" I squeeze her hand in understanding. "My soul felt lost and everyone around me whispered 'Oh, she's just grieving her husband.' Naw, that wasn't it. I was wondering who the hell I'd been married to!" She shakes her head. "Pierre and the girls were confused and scared." Her laugh is forced. "My baby. You shoulda seen him. Tears scared him, but he let me cry on his shoulder."
I wipe my eyes and laugh at that. I see Tank and Ranger at the window, peering out. Mrs. CJ and I wave at them, smiling.
"Anyway, I recognized that look on your face because I know how that look felt. I remembered."
"Thank you," I whisper. She smiles and pats my hand. We sit quietly for a few more minutes. "How did you snap out of it?"
"Lucille." I try to raise a brow and she laughs. "You sho' look funny doin' that!" she says, shaking her head. "No, that's how Ms. Lucille became one of my few real friends. Pierre called her, sayin' he needed help and didn't know who to turn to and Lucille came 'round here and marched in my house like she owned it."
She takes a deep breath. "She cleaned me up and tucked me in my bed and told my girls to hush with that noise"—I laugh at that—"and climbed in the bed with me that night. 'Yo' husband was a lot of things,' she said, 'but he wasn't as foolish as people think. He recognized strength in you and he hoped you would be strong enough to help him fight his demons. Well, that's where he was wrong. You can't fight his demons but he's had you thinkin' it was your job to do it. It wasn't. He lost his fight. You wanna lose yours?'"
I've been chewing my lip, thinking about what she's said. "Do you think he meant it?" Her head tilts. "Your husband and what he said?"
"Yes. I knew when Antoine was telling the whole truth and I guess he didn't wanna die with that on his soul. He finally humbled himself enough to tell me he was sorry and I knew he was tellin' the truth, but I didn't wanna believe it." She stands. It's dark, nearly sunset, and Tank's turned on the back porch light. Mrs. CJ wipes her face and smiles up at me, taking a handkerchief out to wipe mine gently.
"Lucille stayed for a month. That's how long it took me to get it together and I kept going for my children. That's why I was scared for you. I had my kids to keep me going. If Ric was the cause of your sadness, like Antoine was for me, then I didn't know if I should tell Ric to support you or leave you alone. Your friends were acting like my children, not sure if they should do for you what Lucille did for me or leave you alone."
I snort. Chenae was the first person to snap me out of it because she didn't care if I liked her or not and she still doesn't. At least she's honest. "And you told him to support me?"
"Umm hmmm. Was that the right thing?" I nod and she exhales. We take a few steps toward the door. Again, coming to Louisiana has been worth it.
"I could see in his eyes he wanted to support you, but didn't know what to do. You never broke down on him like that, huh? Never broke down like that in front of anyone, huh?" I shake my head.
"No," I reply softly.
The only person who could help me was Hector and he didn't because he expected me to lean on Ranger first. I had a problem and Ranger was there. I needed to confide in him, not Hector, but I expected Ranger to handle it like Hector would have. He did, physically, but Ranger didn't force me to talk. He said, and he proved, that he will never force me to do anything I don't want to do. I didn't want to talk and Ranger didn't push me.
Hec would've kept at me until I started talking, just like he did when we got back to San Antonio.
We stop close to the house, but stop short of where our conversation could be overheard. It's dark now and the family is gathered inside. Chenae is playing the piano and they're singing Christmas carols and laughing. I see Lula throwing popcorn at Ranger and Tank play wrestling with nieces and nephews, including Antoine's sons. It's nothing like Christmas at home and exactly like Christmas at home. I hear a question and turn toward Mrs. CJ, realizing I've been staring in the house and ignoring her.
"Sorry? You were saying?"
"You stronger than me, chile." She returns to the bench and grabs the blanket she handed me earlier, folding it as she walks back. "I love Ric like he's my own son, but Ric? Baby, you can only fight your fight. Ric gotta fight his own, but sometimes? Sometimes he looks at you like Antoine looked at me. Like he wants you to fight his fight for him."
I frown. What? What fight is Ranger fighting that he wants me to fight for him?
Mrs. CJ continues. "No. You can support him, love him, and be there for him, but he gotta fight his fight like you gotta fight yours and the same goes for you. He can't fight your fights, just like he couldn't last time you were here. All he could do was be your anchor, your support when you needed him. That much I've learned in life. Find someone willing to just be there when you need 'em, ready to back you when you need 'em, but don't lie to 'em. Be honest with your friends and your man. They can't support you if you won't be truthful with 'em. OK?"
I'm not going to give up, I'm not going to go away, and I'm not going to leave, but I will get pretty fucking irritated if you don't start talking. Don't assume I know, don't hint at what you need, tell me what you want point fucking blank.
A bubble of laughter travels up my throat and burst into the night air and, as it does, a lot of pain and anger lifts off me. Ranger isn't Hector and he never will be. Irritated or not, Ranger would have stayed by my side and waited for me to be ready to talk to him. After all, that's been the way our relationship has always worked. Neither of us pushes; we're just there when needed.
"OK."
She's smiling. "Now, if I can give you a piece of advice?"
"Please." I look over eagerly.
"Go home and spend some time with your family for a while. Working at RangeMan cut you off from everything you know, right?" I nod. "Lula complains about it all the time, that if she don't demand that Pierre come home, it'd be just like when they were dating. She's competing with the company. He done already dragged her away from everything and everyone she knows, like you. She miss you something fierce, so Pierre's not gonna ditch her now."
"I know that feeling," I mutter. I've lived Ranger's life and I can't live cut off from everyone. He's going to have to compromise.
She puts her hands on her hips. "Well, honey, you the wife. That's not a competition unless you make it one."
We laugh and step inside. I head over to Ranger and join in singing Jingle Bells.
"Everything OK?" Ranger whispers in my ear.
I nod, truly feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.
I'm not going back to RangeMan. I love Ranger, but it's time to talk about Ella's list. I'm ready to take my life back, starting with my crazy family and my empty apartment. Time for Ranger to adjust to living my life, starting with the fact that I'm living in Miami and can't tell my Grandma where I live. OK, yeah, my grandma is nosy and she'll want to look through our closets and poke her nose in Ranger's life, but does he really think we can live in Miami and never tell my grandma where we live? Does he think we're going to live in Miami and my parents will never visit? He might not spend time with his family, but I spend time with mine and we're in and out of each other's homes and lives all the time.
The man of mystery is going to have to give up some mysteries.
One by one, the kids start falling asleep. We move them into the back bedrooms and start stacking presents under the tree. Mrs. CJ falls asleep in her recliner, a puzzle book in hand, snoring lightly. Antoine snickers and takes pictures of his momma as he, Tank, and Ranger put together bikes and talk about their favorite Christmases as kids. I stand in the doorway with Wilma and make sure none of the kids wakes up and decides to tiptoe to see if they can catch Santa. We're lucky; they're all exhausted and sleep through. Tank walks over with a plate of cookies and a smile on his face.
"Wanna play Santa?"
I grab the cookies eagerly. A few bites later, there's nothing but crumbs. Tank chuckles and returns the plate to the coffee table. I run to the bedroom Ranger and I are sharing and grab his present. Everyone watches as I place it under the tree. I had my presents for Lula and Tank sent directly to San Antonio, so they're already under the tree.
"We good?" Mrs. CJ says, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Everyone nods and she turns on one lamp and heads for her bedroom. We all grab blankets and pillows and camp out on the floor.
We're trampled the next morning by every kid in the house, screeching at the top of their lungs. Mrs. CJ cooks a massive breakfast feast and I stuff myself full of butter, sugar, bread and all the stuff I haven't been able to eat in months. We watch as Tank's nieces and nephews unwrap their gifts and I send a quick text to Val to tell her to tell everyone I said Merry Christmas and to send me pictures of the girls unwrapping their gifts.
I'm not with my family unwrapping gifts. It feels like Christmas, but not my Christmas, especially since Ranger told me that all my gifts are waiting at RangeMan Miami, including the ones from my parents, ML, Connie and Lula. The plan was for us to be in Miami, not Carencro, so everyone shipped their presents there.
Apparently, there are a lot of presents, so many Ranger doubted his ability to sneak them in the house without me finding out. Bummer.
"Babe." I look over; Ranger's staring in awe at the shave kit. "How did you know?"
"You like it?"
He nods and kisses me gently. "You always get the best gifts. I've wanted one of these for a while … did Bobby help you with this?" I grin and he laughs. "Did he tell you to buy this?"
I shake my head. "Hairy Carlos is hot but not," I whisper.
Ranger tilts his head back and laughs so loud everyone looks over at him.
"Ric?"
"Shave kit."
Tank nods. "Nice, Steph. Thanks for the shoe shining kit."
"You're welcome."
"How did you think of that one?" Lula asks, smiling.
"I've heard about Tank and his toothbrushes."
The entire family laughs. "Baby, you got him the right gift," Mrs. CJ says. "And me too. Thank you."
I smile. "You're welcome." Lula had purchased a Bible cover, but had also paid to have Mrs. CJ's name embossed in the leather, so we had to go pick it up. I spotted a daily devotional while we were in the Christian bookstore, so I sprang for it. It was the last one and I had to fight to get it.
There's a choked sound coming from Antoine and we all look over at him. He's looking at Lula and I realize she's opening my gift. I smile into my cup and wait.
"White Girl …" Lula lifts the filmy babydoll from Agent Provacateour, grinning ear to ear. I peek; Tank's put his blank face in place, but I feel the vibrations from Ranger next to me. His eyes are twinkling.
"Tank wants you to know you have his undying love and support for that."
I nearly choke on the orange juice. "TMI, but Merry Christmas."
"I'll let him know."
"Where's the rest of it?" Chenae asks, touching it. It's completely see through and I bought the thong and …
"Are these pasties?" Thelma says, laughing. She holds them up and grins. "Stephanie, girl, what have you bought Sis?"
"They have two stores in Miami," I tell Lula, whose eyes widen at me. "I mean, Vicki's is OK for every day sexy, but the wedding night requires specialty gear."
Lula turns and looks at Tank. "I'll get you a black card in your name," he says. "Just make sure—"
"Make sure they get their own bag. Gotcha."
—oOo—
Ranger's POV—12/26
"We need to talk before you leave."
Babe has amazing timing. "About?" I continue stuffing clothes in my duffle. I've already gotten the flight update that my plane is delayed, but I still want to get to the airport with time to spare. I need to find a safe place to fall asleep. All the carbs Mrs. CJ force-fed me yesterday are making me sleepy.
"Us." She sits on the edge of the bed and smiles.
My favorite topic of conversation. I stop packing and sit next to her. "Shoot."
She rummages through her purse and pulls out a very creased piece of paper. "Ella gave me this list of things to consider when I'm in a relationship and I've been working on them. I thought maybe I could give you this same list and we don't have to talk about it now, since you're about to go overseas, but maybe we could talk when you get back?"
She hands it to me and I scan it quickly. "Good list."
There's a tiny exhale. I hand her the list and take her hand, squeezing gently. "You sure you don't want to talk about it before I leave?"
"No." Her voice is firm, unyielding, and I look over. "I've been working on these for months and she was right. These questions require some serious thought."
I sober my face and nod. "OK. I'll consider them while I'm gone." I scan the list again. Hmmm … these really are good, thought-provoking questions.
"Thanks. Now, I'm headed to Jersey to pack my apartment and grab Rex. You arranged to fly everyone in to see me in Miami once a month?"
"Yes."
"Can you fly me to Jersey instead?"
"Of course." I sit back against the headboards and wait. "What happened?"
She stands and paces back and forth in the room for a few minutes before answering. "I lived your life. I did your job, I lived the way you live, I understand." I nod. "But now, I need you to make some changes for me."
I knew that was coming. "Such as?"
"I can't live in Miami and not have my grandmother know where I live or be able to invite her over. It's our home and I plan to tell my family where I'm really living. I'm telling you this, not asking."
My stomach tightens. No fucking way. I'm not Frank Plum. I'm not that self-sacrificing.
"Babe—"
"Is this about to be an argument?"
"Yes." She blinks. I guess she didn't expect me to say no. "Until you, no one knew the location of that house. Now you know and the guys know—"
"And Julie."
"And Julie. I'd like to keep it limited to those people."
"So you get to allow the people you want, but I don't?"
I cross my arms, wondering where this argument came from. "I never intended to reveal the location of that house to anyone besides you and maybe Julie. I told you that the first time I took you there."
Her mouth snaps shut and she frowns. "Your family doesn't know where you live?" I shake my head. "Do they know anything about you?"
"They know what I choose to share."
She shrugs. "My family isn't like that. We're close. We're Italian. We're in and out of each other's homes, Ranger—"
"No." She freezes as I sit up. "There are a lot of things I'll give you, Babe, but allowing your grandmother to know the location of my home is not one. Your grandmother has no respect for personal property and space."
She flushes. "But—"
"If you want to tell Edna something, tell her you live at RM-Miami, but our actual home? No. That should be a place where only the people we both agree on can come."
"And you won't agree to allow my grandmother?" she asks, looking at me in disappointment.
"I won't say never. I never thought I'd allow Lula into my apartment." Her lips twitch. "Your grandmother moved in with you, then moved Eddie DeChooch in with you. Is that a situation you wanted?" She shakes her head. "A few weeks ago, she thought she'd move in with you instead of working out her relationship with Larry. Do you really think you would have been able to convince her to leave once she saw our home? If you tell her where you're really living, the first time she has an argument with Larry she'll show up on our doorstep expecting to move in and she'll never want to leave."
"And the problem with that is?"
I lift a brow. "I'm not prepared to live with you and your grandmother."
"I didn't ask you to."
"I'm seeing the inevitable conclusion to this."
"My grandmother moving in is the inevitable conclusion?"
"Yes." I raise a brow. "I'm not your father, Babe. She's not living with me and that's what will happen if you tell her where you live."
"Would you kick her out? Would you kick me out?" Steph's slowly turning red. I see the arms ready to fly.
"No, but I would move out and not return until your grandmother moved out."
Her jaw drops. We're back to silently staring at each other. I could deal with any of the Plums or Kloughns moving in (OK, maybe not Albert), but not Edna.
"You said it was my home too. I should have the right to tell people where we live," she whispers.
"True." She relaxes slightly. "But you aren't in a relationship with just anyone, Babe. I run a security firm. I do contract missions for the government. I lead a private life because I'm a wanted man. There are compromises for both of us to make, but the first is that only people we can both agree on should be allowed in our home."
She crosses her arms against her chest. "I don't agree with that compromise because you're telling me that no one can come to our house unless you approve!"
"Fine." Her jaw tightens, waiting. "I'll sell that house, buy a larger piece of property, build a new house with a perimeter gate and put armed guards at strategic locations to check all visitors and possible intruders. Then you can invite anyone you want, as long as they don't mind being stripped searched at the gate."
We're staring at each other. She's stunned. I'm amused, but not. After all this time, she still doesn't get that I work and live in an arena that means constant danger. I wonder if I should tell her that the homes of six of my biggest competitors are protected in just that manner.
"I refuse to live in a fortress."
"I refuse to live in a home that's open to the public."
"This is insane!"
"You're right. It is. I don't want to live in a fortress either, so I compromised by hiding all my real estate under shells and being very secretive about where I live." I sit up. "You want to live in separate homes?"
"No!"
Well, that's a relief. "Babe, what's my official Trenton address?"
"RangeMan."
"No. I meant, if you do a search on me, what do you get?"
"That empty …" She trails off, slumping.
"That empty lot."
She leaves the room. I resume packing, wondering if I should call this a draw or a victory. She returns five minutes later and watches me pack.
"And when my parents come to visit? Do I lie about where we live to them?"
"Yes. My parents believe I live at RangeMan Miami. When they come to visit"—the one time they came to visit—"I book hotel rooms on the beach for them."
"That's heartless," she whispers.
I'm hurt by the accusation, but shrug instead. "My family is just as nosy and tight-knit as yours, but they don't need to know where my real home is to love me."
Again, we're locked in a staring contest. "And when you flew my friends in?" she whispers.
"I'd arranged for you to stay at hotels in the heart of Miami Beach with them."
"Why?"
"How many times have your friends had a chance to fly, all expenses paid, to Miami, Steph?" I zip the duffel and toss it next to the door before reclining in the bed again. "I set it up for you to stay with them on the beach, close to the best shopping, clubs, and restaurants. They're coming to support you and you'd want to show them a good time. Why waste time in traffic? Coral Gables is forty minutes away."
She's shaking her head. I lean back against the headboard again. "My apartments are private. My homes are private. This isn't a place where I'm going to compromise a lot."
We stare at each other, Steph looking mulish, me prepared to hold my ground forever.
This is a place where I'd like Steph to adapt to my life. Every time someone's needed a roof over their head, Steph's been the one giving up her apartment or her space to accommodate them, from her sister to her grandmother to that annoying little midget Randy. Even me, but I'm selfish. Steph's been the only person besides my brothers and Julie to share my space because I value my privacy.
I like Edna, I really do, but no fucking way. She'd want to move in, Steph would cave, and I'd come back from Syria and blow her grandmother's brains out. I just don't see this ending well for anyone.
"Why is it so important that your family know where you're living?"
"Because … because … it's my home." She stands and paces. "I don't see what harm there is in allowing people to know where I live. This is my family, Ranger. These aren't random people off the streets."
My mouth nearly opens, ready to recount the number of times she's been firebombed and broken in on (not to mention that dead body on her sofa), but I decide to let the moment pass and take a different tack.
"Every time you've need a safe place to live, you've come to me," I reply softly. Steph stops pacing, but she won't face me. She's staring out of the window, a hand over to her mouth, looking both hurt and furious. "My Trenton apartment was nearly impossible for anyone to break into. Same for the Miami apartment. My homes have always been a safe place for you, for both of us, and they're safe because no one knows where they are."
She's silent, staring out of the window. I climb off the bed and join her at the window, hugging her to me. "I love your soft heart," I whisper, kissing her behind her ear. "I love that you're always willing to help people, even me. It's one of the best things about you but,"-I turn her around to face me-"it's not just you in this relationship. How many people have come after me in the time you've known me?"
She shrugs. "I lost count."
"And when they come after me, they always use people close to me to get to me, right?" She nods. "Yeah. I can't make it easy for anyone to find me or anyone I care about, including you."
She shrugs out of my embrace and I return to the bed, sitting on the edge. I'm watching her face. Fury, resignation, and acceptance. I won that one.
"You consider your teenage daughter more trustworthy than my entire family," she mutters bitterly.
I sigh mentally. "My teenage daughter has been kidnapped and held against her will. She's been used as a pawn to lure me to my death and, like you, she's killed to protect those she cares about. She understands the importance of secrecy and she lives with bodyguards, tracking devices, and all the stuff you refuse to accept. So yes, I consider her very trustworthy."
That argument seems to make a difference. The bitter anger on her face lifts for a moment and I can see she's considering an alternative.
"What about the house we were going to buy in Jersey?"
I cringe mentally. "Fine." She turns to face me again, her jaw slightly clenched. "I'd probably reveal that location to my family too." And spend very little time there, but that does the trick. The tension in her body relaxes. "But our home in Miami? No. That's our private retreat."
"Fine."
It's as close to a victory as I'm going to get, so I'm happy. As long as I never find Edna in my Miami home I'll be happy.
"Everything about you is part of the gossip chain, Steph. Don't you ever get tired of that? How long does it take for news about you to spread around the Burg?" She deflates in front of me. I reach a hand out and pull her closer to me. "You miss your family?" She nods. "Then go see them. You want to spend your time until New Year's there?"
"No." She exhales and threads her fingers through my hair. "I plan to go see them after you leave. Maybe spend a week or two up there between sessions with Miriam."
"Good plan. See everyone." I blow a raspberry on her belly. She falls on the bed laughing and I tickle her.
"Uncle! Uncle!"
"¿Lo siente? No entiendo."
"Tío! Tío!"
I let her go and lie back on the bed next to her as she catches her breath.
"Under number three of that list, a compromise I'm willing to make is revealing the location of the Jersey home we buy, but no others." I look over at her. "The Miami house is our retreat, just for us. It's not a place for your grandmother to search through our closets or try to ambush me to see me naked." She purses her lips, trying not to laugh. "It's not a place for your father to barricade himself in a bathroom, for Albert to drop food everywhere or start a fire trying to control my grill,"—she finally laughs—"for your mother to take over our kitchen or your sister to do her Suzy homemaker thing—"
"Did you spy on us at the beach this summer?" she mutters.
I laugh internally. "Babe."
"Are we that bad?"
"I've watched your family. I know what will happen. Our home? It's a place for you to eat cake while standing in front of the refrigerator naked looking for the whipped cream," I whisper. She shivers. "It's a place for us to hop on our boat for a day on the water and for us to sunbathe nude next to the pool. It's a place for us to disappear from everything, like the Bay Head house in Jersey."
"I like that house," she whispers.
"Good." I pull her closer to me and kiss her.
"I miss Trenton. I miss my family."
"Then go see them." And quit trying to move them in with us.
—oOo—
I hate the airport after Christmas. My flight's been delayed twice and there's a chance I may end up on Steph's flight. Not an ideal situation.
She and Lula have been talking about Agent Provocateur and shopping for honeymoon and wedding night stuff ever since Lula unwrapped Steph's gift. Tank and I were relieved; whatever cracks had been in their friendship healed in that moment. Shoes, panties, and food keep them going and, since they spent the entire day planning how they intended to accomplish all three during Lula's first trip to Miami, they talked all day.
I know Tank looked the store up. His jaw dropped before he put his blank face back in place.
My phone rings while I'm waiting for my flight to be called. Hector. I answer and I'm happy to hear he had a much better Christmas this year. I'm glad. Les and Bobby call with the news that Mere raised almost a hundred grand and Bobby met an interesting woman.
Miracles never cease.
I hang up and call Rachel to let her know about the delay getting out of Louisiana. She's fine with me picking Julie up tomorrow if I get in late tonight. I hang up on her and think about my family. This is the first year I've missed Christmas in about four years, so I'm sure everyone's going to drive Les up the wall when he finally goes home.
I love my family, but after so many years of putting distance between us, I'm not as sentimental.
My flight is finally called, so I grab my bag and look over toward Tank. One quick nod and he joins Lula, the signal to Steph that I'm leaving. I see her turn slowly, find me, and nod. I wink at her and run to grab my flight.
Lafayette's airport is so small that my delayed flight leaves only one hour before Steph's flight, which is on-time. I change planes in Atlanta and head to Miami. Thomas followed instructions and my Mercedes has been deposited in short term parking for me to pick up. I find the note in the car.
All accounts normal, sir. Mario.
Good. I head over to Rachel's to pick up Julie.
—oOo—
Steph's POV
Ram meets me at the airport and pulls me into a hug. I'm surprised.
"You resigned?" Ram's face is screaming Tell me you didn't!
I guess the email has gone out. I smile sadly. "Yeah, I did."
"Why?"
I start walking to baggage claim. "Because I've done everything I wanted to do. I ran it until Tank, Les, and Bobby could take over again."
Ram is studying me closely. He finally sighs. "Everyone's shocked. The phone calls and emails are flying, believe me." He grabs my suitcases and we head outside, where Woody is waiting. We climb in and hit the road back to Trenton
"You're not leaving because of Mark, are you?"
I laugh and get comfortable. "No. I'm not leaving because of Mark." Good luck to him. I'm sure he'll be thrilled.
Ram and Woody share a glance but nothing more is said and I'm able to enjoy a nap. We arrive in Trenton and they drop me off at Mom's.
"Stephanie!" She opens the door wide and ushers me into the kitchen. "Is everything OK?"
Dad pokes his head around the door. "Pumpkin. Thought you were going to Miami."
"I am, but I still need to pack up my apartment and move." To a house you're not allowed to know the location of. I'm still kinda pissed about that. Ranger basically told me my family is not trustworthy because of Grandma. "I just … since I'm leaving soon, I wanted to sleep here for a night. Is that OK?"
"Of course!" Mom goes into 'Mom' mode. Within minutes I have a sandwich, hot chocolate, and a slice of pie. Mom heads upstairs and I hear her moving around in my old bedroom. She returns and puts another slice of pie in front of me as she and Dad join me at the table.
"What kind of pie is this?"
"Hmm?" She grabs my empty plates and heads to the kitchen. "It's a banana cream pie."
"Tastes great." It really does. It's really sweet and smooth. I take the plate to the kitchen, wondering if I can get a third slice.
Mom beams. "Thank you. I'm experimenting with different pies, trying to see what will work best. How do you like it?"
I'm nearly done with it when I realize that's a weird question for Mom to ask. She's wiping down the counter, rubbing at a spot only she can see, but I see her glance at me nervously.
"It's great, Mom. Really creamy and smooth." I try to think of other things to say. "It tastes like bananas."
She wrings her washcloth. "I was worried about that. Some people don't like bananas. I don't want it to be too strong, but I want it to taste like what it is."
"No, this is just right."
I can see the relief in her face as I return to the dining room.
"Good job, Pumpkin," Dad says softly.
"Is she really going to open a restaurant?"
He shakes his head. "No, but she struck a deal with Giovichinni's. They'll rent her a display for her cakes and pies, sell them, and pass her back her cut. They get thirty percent, she gets the rest."
"Wow." It doesn't sound like that great a deal, but Mom's just starting out. Maybe it is. I don't know food sales.
"Yes." Dad looks proud. "She's gonna show everyone how great she is."
Mom returns and gets me caught up on all the gossip. Takes me a few minutes to realize that none of her gossip is about what Mrs. Such-and-Such's daughter is doing.
None of it.
Instead, I get updates on our Mazur relatives, including Vinnie, whose house is in foreclosure. Harry was arrested and he hadn't paid the mortgage in months. Vinnie doesn't make enough now to pay the mortgage. Lucille is furious. Vinnie told her she had to get a job.
I snicker. I could've told you that you couldn't afford a house, Vinnie.
The Plummeris stopped by to see Dad. That was really odd.
"Why?" I ask.
Mom looks over at Dad, concerned. Dad's fidgeting. "Well, normally they kept up with us through … well, through your exploits, Pumpkin."
"You mean …"
He nods. "There hasn't been any gossip about you in months."
I stare at Dad in shock. "What about before I moved to Trenton?"
"E.E. Martin. Mob-affiliated. They got gossip about you through those channels."
"Before that?"
"Married to Dickie."
Which was a media circus. Before that? Joe. I keep thinking. I've been part of the Burg news cycle since I was six. Holy hell.
Everything about you is part of the gossip chain, Steph. Don't you ever get tired of that?
Yes, Ranger. I finally see your point. Our houses will remain secret.
I spend the night with Mom and Dad. Val comes over, minus Albert and the kids, and we get a chance to talk for a while. The girls are still gushing about their trip to NYC and Val is in tears thanking me for it. While MA and Angie were gone, she and Albert had a chance to talk about this new baby, their finances and how they're going to pay off all their debt.
"So now that Mom's serious about doing the dessert thing, I have to find babysitters or something for the girls after school." She sighs and leans back against the pillows of her childhood bed with a carton of Chunky Monkey. I'm snug under the covers with Phish Food.
"Why? I thought—"
"They're refusing to babysit. Mom's dessert business means she's too busy to really look after the girls right now and Dad's extra money is going to help her get it started so she won't have to take out loans." Val groans and throws an arm over her face. "Albert asked his Mom to babysit the girls and she was OK with it, but the girls hate going over there. MA says it smells funny."
I snicker. "So did Grandma Plum's, remember?"
"That's because she had prosciutto and sausages hanging up in half of the closets and moth balls on the floor everywhere."
I shake my head. That was a revolting stench, but she made the best red sauce.
"Albert's mom isn't so bad. I mean, she complains about me not being Jewish and not raising Lisa as a Jew, but I guess that's no worse than Mom questioning what I feed the girls every day." Val finishes the carton of ice cream. "Mom's not doing too bad in AA and Dad and I have talked about going to Al-Anon meetings. It would be great if you'd stay and support her."
I would if I weren't headed into therapy, I argue silently. "So she actually went?"
"Yeah. Everyone's talking about it. It's so embarrassing!" Val moans.
"It's embarrassing that Mom's getting help for her issues but half the Burg gets drunk in private every night?" I scrape the last of the ice cream out of the carton.
"But that's in private," Val stresses. "Mom's addiction is now public!"
I snort. "So if I went to therapy for PTSD, after everything that's happened to me, would that be embarrassing?"
Val is quiet. "Well … isn't PTSD what soldiers coming home from war have?" I nod. "No, I guess not. I mean, you got that fighting crime. You can't help that. Mom got sick from drinking alcohol."
"Wonderful," I reply dryly. "I'd have a socially acceptable disease."
Val leaves twenty minutes later, after I promise to call the girls and talk to them. I get comfortable in the bed again and stare at the ceiling. I love my family but now that I've gotten the update, I'm ready to go back to Florida.
I wake up the next morning and head to RangeMan. I stop in the living room in the apartment. No furniture, no clothes, just a stack of boxes.
"Problem, Stephanie?" I turn; Ella's just walking in.
"You packed everything?"
"Yes." Ella frowns in confusion. "Ranger said pack everything. What isn't going to Florida is going into storage. He said you two were buying a house."
"Yeah … but we were keeping this apartment until we bought the house. How did you pack so fast?"
"So fast? I've been packing your clothes since you two flew back to NYC. I had the boys help me move the furniture out today."
"Oh."
She snorts. I glance at her as she tries to hide a smile. "What?"
"Admiring my nephew's determination."
"Determination?"
"Yes. Now you have to choose a house. You can't crash here when you come to Trenton."
I roll my eyes. Nice try, Ranger. I still have my apartment to stay in. I guess Les just got his apartment back.
Ella has a bunch of real estate listings for us to look at, so we spend the morning working on her list. Anything in Trenton is immediately out. Anything in Mercer County is out. We start looking closer to Princeton and West Windsor and across the border in Pennsylvania.
I leave after lunch and head to my apartment. There isn't much at my apartment that I still want, but I check anyway. I hear Ranger in my head again as I walk in and look around. It's mostly Grandma's stuff. The dildo display makes me shudder and smile. Hal will probably never forget that.
I'm headed out of the door when I turn again and look. Yeah, the apartment is drab and shabby and filled with stuff that should have remained in the trash bin, but it's mine. My sofa. My coffee table. My bed. Mine. Ranger's homes are elegant and showroom perfect, but without me they look and feel sterile. There's nothing personal in any of his homes. My apartment may be filled with crap, but it's my crap.
Except it's not my crap. It's my crap and, at the moment, Grandma's crap. She moved into my apartment and she hasn't moved out. If she and Larry break up, she'll move back in here.
I'll never tell Ranger, but I see his point. Again. Damn.
I return to RangeMan and move Rex into a new travel cage. Ella called the movers last week and arranged a five o'clock pick-up, so I have an hour to finish my business in this building.
"What do you think, Rex?" I tap the glass of his new travel cage. Rex looks unimpressed by his diminished surroundings. "Yeah, me too."
I take the elevator down to the fifth floor and step off. The guys are quiet but, one by one, each one comes by and hugs me. Hal is last.
"Are you sure?"
I smile. "Positive."
"Are you coming back?"
I shake my head. "Nope. I did everything I wanted to do."
He sighs. "OK."
We hit the stairwell to the third floor and I knock on Candy's office door. "Come in!" I walk in and shut the door behind me. Candy is pale, her fingers shaking. "I was told to prepare this paperwork, but I don't believe it. I still don't believe it." She looks up and swallows hard. "Steph, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes."
I remember all the things I loved about this job. I loved the fun and how nothing was the same two days in a row. I remember how great it felt knowing I was doing everything I could to show Ranger I wouldn't bankrupt his company. Everything I told Ranger I loved about the job comes flooding back, but my time here at RangeMan is done. My resignation was accepted. I was given my parting gift and told they planned to make changes. Some of the changes they have planned are better than the things I suggested and some are things I suggested that they still hadn't considered, but they're ready to take over again and I'm ready to leave.
I've learned I can't work for friends. I worked for Vinnie because I thought he was a little rat, crooked but harmless. Plus, I had blackmail on him so he couldn't push me any further than I could push him. I worked for E.E. Martin and I thought they were all crooks. I was right.
Working for friends? When your friends have power over you, that's not good.
Working for RangeMan made me Connie's and ML's boss and I want to keep my friendships. Candy's a really great person, but our friendship is limited by the fact that I am her boss. My entire life would revolve around this company if I don't get out.
Candy stares at me before sighing and beginning the separation paperwork. Tank forwarded her a copy of our agreed upon severance. I sign all the appropriate paperwork, turn in all my RangeMan paraphernalia (including the gun), and she gives me the COBRA information, with the caveat that I'm still on their insurance for nine months, but she wants me to be prepared. I nearly choke.
RangeMan COBRA is $850 a month! Candy smiles. "Yeah, the insurance is the best."
Well, maybe I'll have another job or I'll know what I want to do by then.
At the end, Candy stands and shakes my hand before coming around her desk and hugging me. "Oh Steph! I wish you weren't going! Are you absolutely sure I can't change your mind? I'll shred those forms right now if you want to change your mind!"
"No." I look around her office for the last time. "No, I'm leaving. Congrats, Candy. The men love you and I'm sure you'll do a great job."
We step out and Hal is standing there, frowning. I raise a hand. "She tried, she failed, I don't want to spend all day on it."
"Fine." Hal looks very unhappy. "The moving van is downstairs and we've moved your stuff in. They just need you to sign the paperwork."
I head downstairs, inspect the boxes, ensure Rex isn't among them (Ram says he's in the car) and sign the manifest. My clothes are on their way back to Florida.
I turn and salute the Trenton men. "Thanks, guys, for everything."
"See you later, Steph," Manny says quietly, holding Juana tightly. I wave and get in the car with Ram.
One last stop to make, then Florida, here I come.
—oOo—
"Hey."
ML moves to let me in the house. "Hey. What's wrong?"
I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. "I wanted to let you know I'm moving to Florida."
"Really?" ML smiles and pushes me into kitchen, where she pulls out a pound cake and starts a pot of coffee. Ram takes a slice of cake and heads back outside. "Moving to be with Ranger?"
"Sort of." I add sugar to the coffee, sip, and frown. Too sweet. "I'm … I'm going to therapy."
"Oh." Her head snaps up. "I forgot about that. So you were serious?" I nod. "Good for you, Steph. Therapy will help."
I roll my eyes. "That's what everyone says."
ML cuts a big piece of cake and hands it to me. "Well, it's true. It helped me."
I nearly drop the cake looking at her. "What? When were you in therapy?"
"After Drew was born. Post-partum depression."
She passes me the whipped cream and I give myself a good dollop, thinking. "Why?"
"Steph." ML rolls her eyes. "I'd just had my third son. I had my tubes tied so I was never going to have a little girl. I was never going to buy little dresses and braid hair and teach my daughter to cook. I was never going to watch my baby grow into a beautiful young woman. I was going to find snails and frogs in pockets, wash mud soaked jeans, and smell gym shorts for the rest of my life." I snicker. "You're laughing! Oh yeah, fine, laugh. Yeah, laugh at my pain."
My smile fades when I realize ML isn't smiling. She refills her coffee and stirs angrily. "Lenny didn't get it. He was thrilled. Two more and we'd have a football team, but I'd never have that close mother-daughter bond with a little girl of my own. And, worst of all, someday some other little girl is going to come along and she'll be the most important woman in his life. I'll have to smile and try not to interfere as she takes him from me. At least if I had a daughter, maybe I'd have a relationship with her like I have with my mom. I'll always be my mom's little girl."
"Sorry," I mutter, feeling like crap.
"It's OK." She sighs and leans back. "OK, clearly I'm still a little … I don't know. Disappointed?" I nod and she shrugs. "At the time, I couldn't stop crying. I loved Drew, but at the same time I wanted to dress him in frilly dresses. Lenny was horrified."
"So how did you end up in therapy?"
"Mom made me go," she says, topping her pound cake with chocolate syrup and taking a big bite. "She told me all the crying was ridiculous. Unless Lenny and I wanted eight kids like the Crandles, I needed to accept it."
"How comforting." I snort.
"Yeah. I didn't appreciate it either but she dragged me to the nurse practitioner, who told me which counselor to go see. I didn't even know I could see one for free and it helped to talk about it."
"So it helped?" She nods. "I'm happy for you."
"Thanks." She smiles. "Therapy was hard but completely worth it. I have Drew and no matter how hard I wish, he'll always be Drew. He'll always be my little boy and it's not fair to love him but resent him for not being a girl. Do I still wonder what it would be like to have a daughter? Yeah." She smirks. "Then I remember what I was like as a kid."
We laugh. There's a knock at the door and ML moves to answer. I hear Connie following her back to the kitchen.
"—and I heard Steph is here, but she hasn't called me. Think we should call her?" Connie walks in and stops. "Steph."
I wave. "Hey."
She flops into the seat across from me and accepts the slice of pound cake ML hands her. "I shouldn't. Marvin's mother called me skinny most of the week." I hide a smile and glance at ML. She's doing the same. Connie rolls her eyes at both of us. "No, she meant it. She'd tsk and try to feed me another stuffed cabbage."
We laugh and get comfortable. My phone beeps; Ram, telling me I have thirty minutes.
I eat cake and have coffee with two of my three best friends before I leave Jersey behind for good.
—oOo—
"Steph!"
"Julie?" I spot her next to baggage claim and hug her. "Where's—"
"Outside, in the cell phone lot. I'm on GPS." Her nose scrunches as she frowns. "I'm supposed to call once I spot you and once you have your luggage." She dials. "Hi … yup … here." She hands me the phone.
"Yo. Welcome to Miami, Babe."
"Thanks. What's the plan?"
"To relax."
I look around Miami's baggage claim, the hundreds of people jostling for their luggage and calling friends and family. Julie squeezes my hand and I smile at her.
"Sounds good, Batman. Sounds like a plan."
A/N: So, I'm back! Updates will be slower than they used to be, but I'm now writing again.
So, what happened? Why was I gone for so long? First, I really needed to focus on my health. Trying to write and meet deadlines, I put writing and fanfic ahead of taking care of myself, even after so many of you told me to take care of myself. Well, I love all of you, everyone who reads and reviews (or doesn't), but I have to prioritize. As of Friday, I'm down twenty-two (22) pounds since my last chapter and my lung function has increased to 75%! Yay! I'm also sleeping better and the migraine headaches are gone, so I'm finally feeling 'normal' for the first time since the beginning of this year.
All the downtime also gave me some time for reflection. I finally recognized that I was depressed at not being on the road, not being face to face with my clients, and it was affecting my health and my work. A trip to Boston in July perked me up for a while (as did a recent trip to Texas), but I miss having colleagues to chat and work with regularly. The downsides of having a travel position when you aren't traveling, I suppose. Anyway, I pretty much swore off fanfic in an attempt to get myself into a better, happier place. I got hooked on Pinterest (that place is dangerous) and started to knit again. Reconnecting with my knitting friends did the trick. I had balance again.
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I needed to make some other, more drastic changes in my life. So, I'm leaving Florida at the end of this year and moving closer to my family. I've also been offered a new job, in the same industry but changing focus and direction, and I'm considering it. I'm also planning to go back to school for my doctorate, so I'm ready for some new challenges. I stopped work on the book during my break, so I'll restart it after the new year and get it finished. If anyone is interested in publishing it, you'll be the first to know.
So, I apologize for the strident tone of my Announcement chapter. I wasn't in a good place and I lashed out at all of you instead of quietly disappearing (don't know if that's any better, but (shrug)). I'm back and I'm just going to leave everything on Fanfiction, so you don't have to start looking around to figure out where I'm posting what. I also decided to wrap up the Ranger/Steph story soon, but I'm going to continue writing in my universe, although you'll see fewer Ranger/Steph stories after the Tank/Lula wedding. Les has pretty much taken my imagination lately (you'll see. :) The next two side stories are all Les) and so have Bobby and Hector. Also, starting in January, the updates will be much slower, once a week at most.
veiland