All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone.
"Is Rangeman going to branch out into the toy testing industry?" Julie asked, watching Cal hold Remy with one arm and point out something to Zero on a monitor with the other. "You have a lot of babies around the office now."
Raphael had left ten minutes ago, bringing Aubrey and Josie with him as he dropped Jax off to hang out with Gene until Simone gets off work. If Kane suddenly appeared with Angel, I wouldn't be surprised. Not that anything has the ability to really surprise me.
Steph appeared to seriously consider Julie's suggestion. "Maybe we can go one step further and add snack-testing with the toy tryouts."
"No to both," I told them.
"Maybe you're not open to those ideas," my daughter persisted, "but I could babysit the Rangebabies or watch Jax when I'm here. I'm old enough to."
"Don't remind me," was my reply.
I'd trust her acting as my backup over some of the people I've interviewed who talked a bunch of shit but wouldn't survive my training to become a qualified RangeMan.
"Plus, you already have your hands full with Olive. You don't have time for much else," Steph added.
"And we want time with you," I reminded her. "You're not coming to Jersey to work."
She rolled her eyes in typically teenage fashion. "It's not really work when it's family. But, Dad, you really need to have some kind of daycare here so the dad-uncles won't be trying to do apprehensions wearing baby carriers."
"I'd pay to see that," Steph said. "As long as it's a boring, non-violent skip they're after. I'd kick their butts myself if they went after the hard-core criminals Rangeman specializes in."
"Since someone still won't clear me for duty again," Santos told us, not physically able to stay out of a conversation, "I could watch the bottle-guzzlers."
Cal protested when Lester reached for Remy with his good arm to emphasize his point. "I've got him. Go make your own."
"Kinda hard to do when the woman you want wants to keep some distance between you."
"Tell me about it," Hal said to himself, but Lester heard him loud and clear and offered a sympathetic shoulder punch.
"Hang in there, Guys," my wife said. "Ranger and I are proof that fast doesn't equal forever ... consistency and loyalty does."
"Says the woman who was pregnant less than a year after declaring your undying love for the Boss," Santos continued.
"Jules, turn away. You can't see me deck an Uncle."
"You're all bark, no jab, Steph."
"Care to test that theory?" My wife asked him.
"Nope. I only let that slip because the Boss and Julie are here to protect me. Having kids to protect has made you a dirty fighter in the gym. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid."
"Good answer."
"You guys are weird," our eldest declared.
"Yup. That's why you keep coming back," my wife said, dropping an arm around our daughter. "We're a breath of irregular air. Should we go ahead and rescue Uncle Tank from Olive and get lunch or let her continue to be torturer-in-chief?"
"We should probably set him free. He's supposed to be taking Mabyn and her mother out for lunch, and it's gonna take at least five minutes to pull Olive off him. You know, you should've named her Rose ... the way she climbs people and gets prickly when you try to separate her from them."
Steph thought about that. "You're not wrong with that description, but I'll always choose olives over roses, so her name fits."
Julie looked across the control room at her little sister who had 'GodTank' in an overly affectionate headlock while she sat on his shoulders. "Everything about her fits."
"Our girls are ours for a reason," I pointed out so she won't forget it.
"Don't worry, I don't feel left out. I love Mom and Dad, but I'd be able to tell that you're my dad without even knowing you. Now that I do, I just keep adding to the list of the things we have in common."
"Oooh, send us a copy of it," Steph told her. "I need to know what I'm in for."
"You're in for strength, determination, and a carefully crafted sense of humor," I replied.
"Along with nerves of steel and a fearlessness that should scare me," my wife added.
"It does scare you, Babe."
"Shhh, I don't want anyone to know that."
"The poop's already outta the pony there, Steph," Julie told her.
"Alright, that's clearly enough 'Uncle influence' for one day," my wife declared. "Though thank you for keeping the curses out of it so your parents won't get mad at us."
"Hi, Julie!" Olivia shouted from her higher vantage point.
Julie waved back. "Hi, Olive. We were going to ask Mo and Gunny if they're ready for lunch. Do you want to come with us?"
If Tank had hair, two fistfuls of it would've been ripped out as she tried to get him to look up at her. "I eats now."
He reached up, put his hands under her arms, and lifted her up from his shoulders and lowered her to the floor. "If you're okay, I'll go ahead and eat now too."
"Care to share who you'll be eating with today?" Steph teased.
"No."
He smoothed a hand over Olivia's French braid and moved to hug Julie - another of my girls he's known since birth - and then he headed to the stairs and away from Stephanie's comments. My wife veers towards homicidal if she learns anyone has placed bets on her actions, but we have briefly discussed the likelihood of Tank proposing to Mabyn before the end of the year.
He and I are close, but he doesn't usually discuss his decisions until he's made up his mind about what he's planning to do. My wife's instincts and detective skills discovered his interest in Mabyn, so he's not about to let any other personal information slip until he's ready for it to.
"Can I make lunch today?" Julie asked us in the elevator.
"Why does that question sound like you want to cook?" Steph said in response.
"Because I do. I can make a couple things that you and Olive might like. Dad will have a few issues though."
"You can make whatever you'd like, but there needs to be something healthy served along with it," I told her. "And I don't recommend anything relating to fish."
"Why not? Fish is supposed to be really healthy for you."
"It's not so healthy for Olive's mental health," my wife explained. "She thought Ella went fishing in my Dad's aquarium for dinner and it took a solid twenty minutes to calm her down."
"We also had to take an impromptu trip down to Frank's apartment to show her that all her favorites were still alive and swimming happily in her grandfather's ocean wall. At least she didn't think it was her brother. That's an improvement."
"Guess they'll be no flushing the ones that don't make it," Julie noted. "Last time I was here, you wanted me to count the fish out loud, so you could count along, didn't you, Olive?"
"Deer's sooo many fishies!"
"There are. I almost ran out of numbers."
Both girls laughed as a memory was formed that they'll share for years to come.
"When you said healthy, you mean like a vegetable side dish?" Steph asked me.
"Yes. And no ... French fries or Tater Tots covered in ketchup don't count."
"Fine. Pickles it is."
Turns out her choice went well with the Ham and Cheese Crescent roll-ups Julie wanted to make. Prepackaged bread and deli meat filled with preservatives wouldn't have been my ideal lunch choice, but how proud Julie felt when Olivia released many "Mmmm" sounds as she ate, had me happy to stay silent for probably the first time. And the pets, aside from Rex, were also happy with the pieces of ham being fed to them under the table by our resident chef.
"Too bad all meals can't be like this," my wife said, wiping Olive's face and hands when she had only crumbs and one broccoli floret left on her plate.
"You like my food?" Julie said.
"Yes, but I like having you here even more than the fact that you can cook."
It was the perfect thing to say to say to a girl who was parentally short-changed for most of her life, and then had siblings on both sides to come to terms with. Not surprising to me, she embraced me as her father and was determined to be an amazing older sister to every child that came after her. I've never been naïve, so I had braced myself for rejection of not only me but of the kids Stephanie and I had together. I continue to be grateful that my daughter is a better person than I'll ever be.
I'd cleared my schedule for the time Julie will be with us, so the afternoon was relaxing but chaotic in the best possible way. My parents are planning to make the hour drive to see my daughters on their home turf and have dinner with us. Our girls had Gunny and Mo constantly on the move inside the apartment and in the backyard on - and around - the swing set that I made sure was reassembled outdoors. Julie let Mado turn her into a cat bed while she and Olive gave each other and Stephanie pedicures after my parents left. Steph and I bounced between being curled up together watching our kids watch a movie and then getting up and moving in opposite directions to fill each of their requests.
The last one required all of our attention when Julie announced that she'd brought something for her little sister. Mo and Gunny beat us up the stairs to the addition we added so Julie - and eventually Olivia - will have their own space and waited for us to catch up.
"They're in my bag," Julie explained. She dug around in her suitcase and stood up again with two hands full of purple material. "I got us matching pjs!"
She shook out the smaller pair and we all read the words 'Sister Squad' across the front of the long-sleeve top of the two-piece purple and white pajamas.
"I got a poorple letters."
"I do too," Julie replied, holding up her pair. "See? We'll match, like sisters should sometimes."
Being just like her older sister is a goal of Olivia's so I know why Stephanie was trying not to show how touched she was when she spoke.
"That's such a sweet thing to do, Jules," my wife told our eldest. "You have NO idea how much your sister idolizes you. You just made her entire month."
Which also made bath time take three times longer because Olivia had to introduce Julie to every toy she's going to try and drown in the bathtub. Story time went a little faster once the kids and the pets all worked together in order to fit on or near Olive's bed. Reinforcing her devotion to her big sister, our baby allowed Julie to choose which book we were reading this evening and refused to fall asleep and miss a minute of it until her eyes closed on their own and her eyelids refused to reopen.
If I didn't have a PhD in Stephanie, I wouldn't have noticed her behaving differently. She was a little slower getting up from Olive's bed and I started to track how her hand would stray to her back or her stomach as she walked with Julie to the kitchen to make cocoa. She was trying to hide her movements with the best of them, but my instincts went on high alert.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
"Nothing."
"I don't believe you. Try again. Is it the baby?"
"No, it's probably just something I ate or the lack of something I wanted to eat but you wouldn't let me. I guess I've just been more uncomfortable than usual today."
Considering how sitting, standing, eating, and sleeping are all uncomfortable for her, being in more pain is saying a lot.
"In what way?"
"If I had to pick only one pain, my back is really bugging me. Sitting all cramped up on Olive's bed didn't help at all."
"Let's go."
"No. His due date isn't for another two weeks. It's too early. I don't want to be known as the 'Mama who cried labor' over and over again."
"I don't care about anything but making sure you and our son are alright. If making twenty trips to the doctor or to the hospital everyday ensures that you're both healthy, we're doing it."
"Don't use up any of the energy you're gonna need, Steph," Julie added. "Like me and Olive, that little guy is gonna take after Dad and come when he wants to ... whether you'd like him to wait or not."
