15 - When The Chips Are Down
"Well, I figured out what it was that was making my Spidey senses go off at work," Steph announced as she pushed through the door that connected the floral shop proper to the workroom out the back. The space was filled with all manner of plants, in an organised chaos-rainbow and she nudged aside a bucket of cut florals on the end of the central table to set down the paper bag and drinks tray she carried before plopping down on a nearby stool.
She plucked her Coke from the tray and peered around the room as she sucked on the straw. Trying to spot Deb in the domestic jungle was like looking through the I spy books Val and Mary Lou's kids were so fond of, but it didn't take her long to catch sight of him peering around the side of the arrangement he was working on at the other end of the bench.
His deep furrowed look of concentration slowly morphed as he processed her words and took in her appearance. Her frizzing hair, red eyes and nose, and blotchy cheeks were all dead giveaways that something wasn't right, despite her efforts to cover it up in the bathroom of the cafe while she waited for their usual Friday lunch order.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you're not getting a raise or a promotion?" He phrased it as a question, but it was unnecessary.
"No," Steph agreed. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I got laid off."
A single eyebrow crept higher on Deb's forehead as he stepped out from behind the floral arrangement. "Because…"
Steph spread her hands wide, palms up, and gave a half shrug, completely at a loss. "Layoffs." She was part of the twenty percent of employees that were slated to lose their jobs over the next couple of weeks as E.E. Martin was forced to downsize due to financial strain. Apparently, her record figures last quarter and her steady and consistent contributions over the almost ten years she'd worked there wasn't enough to save her ass from being cast out on the streets.
"That's fucked," Deb said once she'd explained it all, absently tweaking the angle of some green foliage in a nearby vase as he reached for the iced tea she'd brought him. "How do you feel?"
"Like life isn't easy, or fair," she said with a shrug. "Like I am once again being forced to fight for my rightful share of happiness and stability. Like everything is falling apart." That was the long and short of it. It seemed like the universe had decided that everything that could go wrong in her life would. All at once.
A month ago, her faithful Honda Civic, that she'd bought third hand the second she could afford it, had finally given up the ghost and died in a very-expensive-to-fix way. She'd decided to splurge and buy a brand-new Mazda Miata convertible to replace it. She'd covered a fair chunk of the price by dipping into her savings, but she'd be paying it off for a while now.
And then there was the fire that burned down her apartment complex two weeks ago. She would have been homeless if not for Deb and Bear's generosity in offering up their spare room to her for as long as she needed on top of apartment hunting, she also had to find a new job.
Not to mention the fact that she was due at her parent's house for dinner the next evening. She ran into her mother at the Tasty Pastry when she'd stopped in to grab donuts on her way to Mary Lou's house the previous weekend. Thankfully, she'd already been running behind schedule and her excuse that she was supposed to be babysitting the boys so Mary Lou and Lenny could go see a movie for their anniversary was a valid one. But that didn't stop her mother from guilting her into a command performance.
Of course, her life had to fall into complete shambles just in time for her first Plum family dinner in months. Maybe it was an omen. She could hear her mother's voice lamenting in the back of her mind already. You wouldn't be in such dire financial straits if you were married. This should all be your husband's worries, not yours. I don't know where I went wrong with you. You never listen to my advice, not once in your life. She was getting a headache just thinking about it.
"Mmm," Deb murmured, setting his drink aside on the table and slipping into the small space between Steph and the table, his hands coming to rest on her knees. "I don't know where your thoughts went just now, but I know it's no place good. Do you wanna share with the class? Do you need time to process on your own? Or do you need me to talk you out of a spiral?"
"I was just imagining what mom is gonna say when I tell her," Steph said, the air rushing out of her lungs on a heavy sigh as her shoulders slumped. "Which is not a helpful line of thinking," she acknowledged before Deb could turn his raised eyebrow into a verbal prompt for her to consider his question again.
Usually, she did pretty well at recognising her spiralling thoughts and taking a step back to assess the situation more objectively, but in times of stress it became more difficult and sometimes required external intervention.
Reaching past Deb, she set her drink down and dragged a hand over her face. "I just hate that it seems like every time I visit my parents something goes wrong in my life. Last time I had to listen to Mom complaining about my 'embarrassing underwear choices' the day I took Grandma Mazur to a viewing at the funeral home and my skirt got caught in the wheels of Mr. Muller's wheelchair as he passed. Half of Trenton's geriatric community saw my bare ass cheeks."
Deb's gaze was piercing, holding her captive the way he always did when he had something serious to impress upon her. "First of all, I'm nighty-seven percent certain Mr Muller caught your skirt on purpose. He was ogling you from the cookie table before he decided to pay his respects a second time." The intensity and disgust in his expression softened a little when he added, "And second, that thong is not embarrassing, it's sexy as hell. Helen's just jealous of how comfortable you are wearing that sort of underwear when she raised you to be a good little prude."
He twirled around to pick up the paper bag, reaching in to remove the takeaway containers and set them down, handing Steph a fork over his shoulder with a flourish. "Besides, you don't have to tell Helen anything about your life if you don't want to. Help yourself, and to hell with the rest. She's already proven that she doesn't love you best."
Steph nodded, lifting the lid on her food and taking a long, deep inhale to savour the scent, letting the sensory act calm her racing mind. Her first bite was just as slow and savoured as Deb found a second stool to drag over and join her. "Fuck Helen," she said after swallowing her mouthful.
Deb grinned at her, utterly delighted. "That's usually my line!" He'd made no secret about how he felt about Steph's mother. And the more he heard about and interacted with the woman the less he tolerated. Steph was pretty sure the next time they met; Deb wasn't going to hold back. There was a reason she didn't often invite him to accompany her on family visits.
"You were thinking it quite loudly," Steph said, her latest forkful of food poised in front of her lips. "And sometimes it feels good to curse my mother out loud for a change."
Deb nodded. His cheeks bulged with the mouthful he was chewing but that didn't stop him from uttering an agreement. "It's cathartic."
They ate in companionable silence for a while, Deb eyeing the arrangement he had been working on from his new vantage point and planning what to tweak when he was done with his salad, and Steph mulling over her options. She knew that Deb and Bear would tell her she could stay with them as long as she needed, but she didn't want to stretch that hospitality too thin and put a strain on their friendship. Not only that, but they were also getting married in a month, and Steph was pretty sure they'd like to have the house to themselves to burn through their rampant newlywed desires when they got back from their honeymoon.
That gave her forty days to get a job and find an apartment to live in.
"You could work here in the interim," Deb mentioned, the straw of his iced tea tapping against his lips contemplatively. "Ma's finally been taking her retirement seriously, so I'm down a set of hands most days. If you managed the front shop, I'd have more time to focus on preparing the orders out back."
The shop had officially been signed over to Deb two years ago when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. He'd already been managing most of the business since he finished college, but now it was his on paper, which had always been the plan, but his mother's illness had sped up the timeline. She wanted to make sure her babies were taking care of each other. Deb would ensure the shop stayed open and in return it would continue to provide his employment and financial stability.
The only problem was, Catherine had a hard time letting go. And despite taking her illness as a sign it was time to retire, whenever she was well enough, she was in the shop bossing Deb around. He put up with it because so long as she was there, telling him what to do, she wasn't wasting away in her bed. But as much as Steph knew it was a comfort to him to see his mother up and about, she knew it frustrated him to have his Ma constantly watching him and giving her opinion of how she would have tackled whatever situation or request arose that day.
Maybe all mothers felt the need to insert themselves into their children's lives, Steph thought. But at least when Deb pointed out that Catherine was overstepping the boundaries she apologised and took a step back, letting him do his thing. Steph's own mother wasn't quite so respectful. In fact, Helen Plum seemed to think that her word was law and any opposition from her daughters was seen as an act of defiance. "Or you'll get no dessert!" had held a lot of power when she was a child and wholly reliant on her parents for sustenance, but the fact that her mother still tried to use it last time Steph had gone to dinner and refused to reconsider her wardrobe choices was slightly amusing.
And she loved that she was able to see the lighter side of her mother's delusions now that she had time, distance and perspective to guide her. Maybe dinner wouldn't be so bad after all. She just needed to remember that her mom didn't actually hold any power over her. Her opinions were based on values Steph didn't agree with, and therefore did not need to take onboard.
Returning her attention to the dregs of her meal, she contemplated Deb's offer. She enjoyed her time hanging out with him in the shop, and had even helped out on occasion, but she was wary that working there officially would change the dynamic of the relationship. And given that Deb was her closest and, in a lot of ways, most valuable friend, Steph wasn't sure she wanted to risk jeopardising what they had.
"I'm happy to help out while I'm job hunting," she agreed tentatively.
*o*
Bear was in the kitchen, his big burly chest naked under his frilly apron as he bustled about, tending to several pans on the stove. "I'm making pancakes," he said without turning around and Steph wondered whether he thought he was talking to her or Deb until he added, "I figured you could use the pick-me-up after yesterday."
He did turn then, the soft smile on his face giving way to surprise as he took in her appearance. "You look nice!"
Steph took a moment to glance down at the pantsuit - a staple from her work collection - that she'd donned after her shower, before meeting her friend's gaze with raised eyebrows. He'd definitely seen the ensemble before. "Do I not usually look nice?"
Bear's nose scrunched as he set a plate of pancakes in front of her and gestured to the pile of bacon on the plate next to it for her to serve herself. "Not what I meant," he assured her. "I just wasn't expecting corporate Steph. Not only is it the weekend, but it's day one of your unemployment. I know I'd still be in my pyjamas."
Pausing in her bacon selection, Steph sent him a crooked smile, pointing to his pants. "You are still in your pyjamas."
A wave of the spatula was his only reply, but from the way he flicked it and her knowledge of Bear as a person, she interpreted it as a good-natured flip of the bird as he returned to the stove to flip the next pancake. "Not still," he pointed out. "I'm on night shift. I only just got into my pyjamas. But that still doesn't explain your get up."
Having added bacon and fruit to her plate, Steph took a seat at the breakfast nook, only to realise after she sat down that she hadn't grabbed coffee. The sigh that left her lips was weighed down not only by her lack of forethought, but by the heavy boulder that was the current state of her life.
"I have a job interview this morning," she said, slipping back off the stool and crossing to the coffee pot."
Bear transferred more bacon to the plate. "That was quick! Good on you!"
Steph grimaced. "We'll see. Dad told me at dinner last night that my cousin Vinnie is looking for a file clerk. It's not what I want to be doing, but I'm hoping that if I ambush him this morning, he'll give me the job. I think I have enough blackmail material stored up to turn the odds in my favour."
"Cousin Vinnie…" Bear said slowly, the cogs turning as he tried to recall what Steph had told him about Vinnie previously. "As in the creep with the farmyard fetish?" When Steph nodded, he shook his head sadly. "Surely there are better options out there. Deb said he offered you work at the shop."
"And I'm grateful for that, but- "
Bear crossed his arms over his chest, the spatula still in hand and speared her with his best impression of Deb's stern expression. His eyes were too kind, though. The ever-present hint of a smile hidden behind the beard softened the look too much for it to be as effective as the real deal. "You know it's not a pity job."
Steph nodded. "Yeah, but- "
"And you know we like having you here. You're not a burden. We want to help you in any way we can."
"I know but- "
Bear nodded. "Extort you cousin, by all means. I hope he squirms and bends to your will." He grabbed the maple syrup from the cupboard and placed it next to her plate. "But remember we're still gonna be here for you no matter what, for whatever you need."
Steph assured him that she would try, and they both sat down to eat before parting ways: Bear to bed for his requisite eight hours of sleep, and Steph out the door and back to Trenton to beg her cousin for a lousy job.
Her mind was preoccupied, Deb and Bear's words floating through her head, as she slid from behind the wheel and crossed the sidewalk to the plate glass door to the Bonds office. Her attention was only half on her surroundings, which was why a startled yelp escaped her as she collided with a wall of muscles about three feet from the entrance.
The man caught her with cat-like reflexes, preventing her from falling on her ass, massive hands encircling her upper arms in a gentle grip. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze as she stuttered out an apology. "S-sorry!" she exclaimed, leaning back further to accommodate the behemoth's height. "I should have been watching where I was going."
Surprise lit the dark complexion of the large man's face as their gazes met. His eyebrows soared so far up his forehead that Steph worried they might fly clean off his bald head with no hair to stop their progress.
"No harm, no foul," he murmured. His voice was unexpectedly warm and quiet as he stepped back, releasing her now that she was stable, though his eyes were still roving over her face, almost like he was trying to place where he knew her from. Steph was fairly confident she'd never met the man before; she would have remembered such a giant. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
He stepped to the side, but turned his body, looking between Steph and the door to the bonds office she was clearly heading towards. A wrinkle formed between his brows as he dragged them back down to their proper place. "You're not heading in there, are you?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she sighed. "I need to negotiate with Vinnie."
His lips popped open like he wanted to say something, but must have decided - rightly - that it was none of his business. His expression evened out to something more neutral and he simply wished her luck before continuing on his way.
The air in the front reception area of the office was cool, a light floral scent doing its darndest to cover up a stale odour that stuck in Steph's nostrils, causing her to wrinkle her nose as she paused to look around. She caught sight of the large, black man through the window, sliding behind the wheel of an equally large SUV. There was something strange about him, his behaviour sending off little alarm bells in the back of her mind that she fought to ignore as she turned back to the office and the desk directly in front of her.
"Stephanie?" Connie Risolli questioned, squinting her eyes like she was trying to make out details from a great distance, rather than the five feet that separated them. "Stephanie Plum?"
"Hey, Connie," Steph greeted. "Is Vinnie in?"
Connie glanced at the closed door to her left then gave Steph a thorough once-over. "You're not in trouble, are you?"
She shook her head. "I'm here about the file clerk position."