Chapter 34: Plum Dinner Fun, Part III
Hector’s POV
We are all gathered here today to join these men and this woman together…
Dios, where is my brain today?
We are gathered together in the garage, me, Hal, Woody, Zip, Zero, and Junior, to accompany Angelita to dinner at her Mama’s house. We are cautiously optimistic. They waited until Ranger was gone to tell the story of what is now being termed the ‘Announcement Dinner’ and, under normal circumstances, I would’ve made them pay for gossiping about Ranger in a way that made him look bad. However, I too was astonished by the story.
Mr. Plum put Ranger on notice? Mr. Plum?
I was beyond amazed, hence my interest in attending the last Plum family dinner. My preoccupation with avoiding Granny Mazur’s fingers meant I didn’t get a chance to really examine Mr. Plum, but I’m determined tonight. I need to know if we have an ally or a disinterested observer. If the man won’t, or can’t, stand up and be a father to Angelita, I need to know.
She’s my partner now. No one will beat her up or bring her down while I draw breath. Pod Mom is a known negative. Granny Mazur is support for Angelita, but she has her own agenda.
My balls are completely uninterested in her agenda.
We split up into two SUVs, travel to the Plum home and are met by Pod Mom and Granny Mazur. Pod Mom has a small smile on her face; Granny Mazur is grinning big.
“Stephanie, I see you brought your partner back. Hector, is it?” I wait for Zip to translate this sentence before I nod. “Wonderful to see you again, Hector. Let’s see. I remember Henry and Angelo, but I believe the rest of you are new.”
Every man is confused by this. She’s smiling. She’s calling us by name. Even Angelita is confused. “Umm, right . . . Mom, let me introduce Zip,” Pod Mom frowns, “sorry, Simon, Evan aka Junior, and Woodrow aka Woody.”
“OK, well, welcome to our home. Do any of you, besides Angelo, speak Italian?” No one responds. “Well, at least Angelo is back. Frank will be thrilled.” Zero smiles cautiously. I’m irritated. I can’t speak Italian, so I’ll have no idea what’s being said. I need to get a handle on Mr. Plum ASAP.
We step inside the house, where Mr. Plum leaves his chair long enough to adjust the table and pat his daughter on the shoulder. Mierda! This is not my night. I’m placed next to the abuela again. I’m not ready for whatever her next move is. I have other things on my mind tonight.
Pod Mom produces the meal, and we’re astonished to find that it’s completely within our dietary requirements. A lean London broil with steamed cabbage and carrots, brown and wild rice, and salad. A classic ‘Ella’ meal. Mr. Plum, Granny Mazur and Angelita look disappointed.
“Um . . . Mom? Is there any gravy?”
Pod Mom smiles. “No, sorry, no gravy. I talked to your Ella and she said that this is an appropriate meal. Is that right, Henry?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hal replies politely.
We’ll never admit it to Ranger, but eating at the Plums’ is the closest we get to gravy unless Ella is in a generous mood, so this is both wonderful (Pod Mom is supporting her daughter and has clearly been in contact with Ella. Interesting.) and a downer.
“Well, this is a pip. Helen, I hope this meat is tender because I’m not fighting with my dentures all night to eat it.” Every man represses a grimace and shudder.
This is the start to the most hellish meal I’ve ever eaten. Not the meal itself; Pod Mom has done an excellent job with the London broil, tender, flavorful, and tasty. No, within minutes, Granny Mazur begins her offensive.
“You know Hector,” she whispers, “I’ve thought a lot about your offer, and I think I was wrong to turn you down. I think I would like to see if I can last two rounds with you in a bed. Would we be in a bed? Or are you a sex on the floor man? Or the shower? Do you use toys? I have a handy new Herbie Horsecock in my room. Have you ever used one?”
My skin is crawling and I’m forced to concentrate on my meal. I refuse to make any sort of face suggesting I understand her, so she steps it up. Meanwhile, the men are close enough to follow her whispers with amazement on their faces. Thankfully, they’re too stunned to translate it so I can pretend to ignore her.
Meanwhile, Pod Mom is questioning Angelita about what skills she’s learning. I force myself to ignore Granny and listen to this conversation. I motion to Zip to translate it for me. This is one time where I wish I wasn’t forced to keep up this pretense.
“So, the men in Atlanta taught you how to avoid being followed?” Angelita nods. “Is that a handy skill?” Pod Mom looks at Hal, who nods.
“Yes, ma’am, it’s a skill we test on. The ability to avoid being followed and being able to follow someone without being detected.”
“Are you any good at following someone?” Pod Mom asks.
“Well, Hal hasn’t tested me on that yet, but I did pass his pop quiz on evasion.”
I see Mr. Plum perk up. “How?”
Angelita tells them about ditching Joyce Barnhardt while searching for the fake tail that Hal set up. Mr. Plum smiles, but Pod Mom frowns.
“So, you didn’t actually pass that assessment?” Every man looks over in surprise. Pod Mom is looking at Angelita in concern. “I mean, Stephanie passed because she spotted a real tail, but she didn’t pass because Henry set up a tail for her that she missed. She had two tails and only ditched one.”
I consider Pod Mom’s words. She’s correct. Angelita only half passed the test. She’ll have to be tested again because Tank and Lester would’ve failed her. I see Hal and Junior consider her words. They’ll set her up again. She has to pass.
“So,” Pod Mom continues, “what other skills have you learned?”
“Well, Maxwell in Atlanta started some basic knife skills—“
“Like chopping and dicing?” Pod Mom asks excitedly. Every man allows himself a small smile.
“Umm …more like throwing and handling.” Angelita picks up her butter knife and gives a small demonstration of holding a knife for defensive purposes. I make a note to test her and pick up those lessons. No one in the company has better knife skills than mine.
“Do you think we could tape it? I know that, what do you call them, MILK tapes are big business. I’m the ultimate MILK. You and I could become famous off a sex tape! Think about it, rough streetwise Hispanic comes on to sweet innocent granny. It’s an instant best seller! We could make millions! And from what I’ve felt, you’d definitely get plenty of attention.”
Yeah, we could become famous, for making the nastiest porno on the face of the earth. I’d lose all street cred. My name would never command fear and respect again. And the term is MILF, not milk, but last I checked, you don’t qualify on the ‘ILF’ part of the word. Innocent and sweet? Not if they heard what you’ve been whispering for the past 20 minutes. Oh Dios, when will this meal end? My balls are slinking away. I’m glad my blank face is appropriate in so many situations.
Pod Mom deflates then perks up, but Mr. Plum beats her to the next question. “So, this is more how to use a knife as a weapon? How to draw it and hold it so you can be lethal with it, right?”
“Right,” Angelita responds, smiling at her papa.
Mr. Plum nods. He seems pleased, and he’s looking at Granny Mazur with interest.
“Maybe we could try some of the stuff they did in that 50 Shades of Grey book. Do you like being tied up? Harry did it once and I liked it, but that was at least 50 years ago. Hmm …has it really been 50 years since I had some real adventurous sex? Oh well. Anyway, the new girl at Pleasure Treasures said that riding crops are big now. I could pretend to ride ‘em cowgirl on top of you.”
Dulce Jesús, make her stop.
Right now, no man at the table knows what to think about the Plums. They appear to be interested in Angelita’s skills and abilities. They’re curious about what’s she learning and doing. This is really, really weird.
They also don’t know what to do about Granny Mazur’s assault on my ears. They’re all pretending that they don’t hear this and everyone’s blank face is getting a workout.
“Anything else?” Mr. Plum asks.
“Well, Ram and I,” Mrs. Plum clears her throat, “sorry, Ramsay and I practice in the gun range.”
“Really?” Granny Mazur asks. “Are they showing you how to shoot? Can you hit a can at 100 paces yet? Maybe I should bring my gun and shoot?”
I’m grateful her interest has shifted. The last thing she said was something about whips and chains, and I’ll admit I was enjoying that thought. Chaining her up, I mean.
“Maybe you should take your gun and let them shoot,” Mr. Plum mutters. “I’m sure they can make it look like an accident.”
We all hide smiles. If she starts pinching me, then I’ll be more than willing to consider it.
“Ram, sorry, Ramsay says I’m a natural. The only thing he really wants to work on with me is not leaving the gun in the cookie jar.”
“Is that where you keep it?” Mr. Plum asks. His eyebrows have drawn together in concern.
“Well, yeah . . . like Rockford,” Angelita smiles.
Mr. Plum frowns. “Rockford is TV. This is real life. You’ve been shot at so many times I’d think you’d want to carry your gun.” Everyone looks toward Mr. Plum. “I’m sure these boys are carrying one, if not two, guns right now. Maybe more. You have to carry weapons, too. You’re a bounty hunter and a security chief. You have to be an example. You need a holster?” I can tell Mr. Plum is serious.
“Are you boys really carrying guns at my dinner table?” Mrs. Plum looks shocked, but Mr. Plum answers before we’re forced to.
“I hope to hell they are. I’m sure part of their job is protecting Pumpkin, right?” We nod. “Well then, they can’t do that unarmed. Besides, the bad guys don’t go away just because it’s dinner time, Helen. Pumpkin needs to carry too. Do you have your gun with you, Pumpkin?”
Angelita is stunned and shakes her head. I thought it was in that massive purse of hers somewhere.
Time for another black pillowcase.
“What do you think of swinging? I’ve never tried it, but Doris at the Clip and Curl said that maybe I should. I don’t know where you would get the swing from, but she said you need at least four people to get a swing going. I think we can manage a swing on our own, but maybe she was talking about a really big swing, like the kind you hang from the ceiling.”
Zip, Zero, Junior and Hal are all red. Woody excuses himself from the table with a bout of coughs. Angelita looks over in complete confusion. I’ve been chewing the same bite of food for at least five minutes. I refuse to choke, but I wish I’d taped that part.
“Pumpkin, you have to keep your gun with you,” Mr. Plum says sternly. “From now on, you make sure you have your gun with you at all times. Whatever these boys carry, you carry. You’re supposed to, I’m sure.”
We’re all stunned. I’ve made my assessment. Mr. Plum is support. The table is quiet for a moment, then “So you can shoot good, huh? Can you trick shoot? You know, do fancy tricks with your gun like a Wild West show?” Granny Mazur asks.
Angelita shakes her head. I’m sure she’s still surprised that her papa is ordering her to carry. I’m surprised her papa is ordering her to carry. “No Grandma, no trick shooting. Just basic defense shooting.”
“Well, maybe I should shoot with you. I have Harry’s gun, and I’d like to know how to shoot. I think I’d be pretty good at shooting. I shot that chicken in the gumpy, remember? I think that’s pretty good. That’s like shooting a man—“
“Let’s get off the subject of shooting for the moment. Any other skills, Stephanie? It sounds like you’re learning a lot,” Mrs. Plum says. She’s clearing the table and refusing our offers of assistance.
Angelita considers it for a moment then shakes her head. “Nope. That’s all the skills I’ve picked up so far. The guys have a personal trainer for me, and we work out every morning at 6AM. Oh! Hector taught me how to pick locks a few weeks back, so I can get out of locks and handcuffs now.”
“OK, there’s an idea. We can use handcuffs! Do you have some handcuffs? I mean, you’ll have to pretend you can’t get out of them, but that would be fun. Maybe I could handcuff you to the swing. I think that’s a good idea. Less work for both of us. If I handcuff you to the swing, can I use other toys, like feathers? Are you ticklish, Hector?”
I’m going to Mass tomorrow. Which saint do I pray to? Has He forsaken me?
Mrs. Plum beams at me and sets the dessert on the table. Two chocolate silk pies with whipped cream. ¡Gracias a Dios! (Thank God!) Fats and sugar. Mrs. Plum hasn’t taken lessons from Ella in desserts. Mr. Plum looks happy and so does everyone else at the table.
“Sorry dear, but I don’t dare touch your father’s desserts.”
I’m tempted to label Pod Mom as tentative support, but one meal will not change my mind. She’s still on probation, although I appreciate the extra large piece she’s just placed in front of me.
Now that we’ve exhausted the topic of Angelita’s skills, Granny Mazur begins her assault on my ears again. I’m feeling a bit sick. The woman has 70+ years of sick fantasies to draw on, and she’s whispering things I’m too innocent to hear. I’m delighted to see Mr. Plum motion all the men to the garage.
My ears can finally rest. Round two of the battle is a draw. I survived, but I think my porno collection will get a workout tonight. I need to bleach my brain.
Every man looks at me in complete wonder. I know. I live a hard and dangerous life.
We light up and stand around in silence. Finally, Mr. Plum speaks and his first words are to me. “I’m sure I don’t want to know half of what she whispered to you tonight. Don’t know what you did to her, but she’s been trying to think of a way to get you back for weeks. She’s got the girls at the Clip N Curl involved, so be careful.”
Zip dutifully translates while I consider what I’m going to do. Good. She really didn’t have a response to me so she called in reinforcements. I smile and nod at Mr. Plum, who nods back.
“I’m enjoying the cigars, boys, and I’m always grateful to have more men at my table. I know that tonight startled the lot of you, so let me tell you what’s going on.” Mr. Plum takes a long drag and gets comfortable, so we do the same.
“I have no idea what’s really going on, but I know a setup when I see one. My family was Mob, not major players but more mid-level.”
We know. We investigated Angelita’s background when Ranger first got involved with her. We found that Mr. Plum’s father broke from the family business (getting even) but stayed friendly with them.
“I see some of what is going on here, and I support it. If the goal is to get Pumpkin trained and really thinking about her job in terms of her life being on the line, then Mrs. Plum and I will do whatever is necessary to support you in this. We’ve talked about it, and we have an agreement. Mrs. Plum will refrain from pushing suitors at Pumpkin for the year that Ranger is gone.”
Mr. Plum takes a drag of his cigar, and I consider this. I don’t see it happening.
“Of course, it’s hard for my wife to let go of the habits of a lifetime, so I’m watching her. I’ll assume that you’re all in this to push her toward your boss. I don’t need any of you to confirm or deny that. We’ll just leave that statement as is. In the meantime, my wife and I intend to support what she’s doing, which is why we asked all the questions about her training tonight.”
Mr. Plum takes another drag of his cigar and smiles. I don’t think any man was prepared for what we’re hearing right now. Mr. Plum has been very underestimated. Of course, he was underestimated because he never appeared to get off his ass and support his daughter, so I’ll call it a wash. We’ll move forward with the man we have.
“Besides, we are interested and I think, I’m not sure, but I think that Edna and Helen are ready to change the gossip about Pumpkin in the ‘Burg from ‘She’s a disaster bounty hunter’ to ‘she’s a locked and loaded crime fighting machine’. I don’t know that I expect her to be at your levels, but I would like to know that my daughter is carrying her gun and can shoot to kill.”
Mr. Plum has moved back down to tentative support. If we’re training her, of course we’re going to get her up to our levels. Why would he think otherwise? It would be a waste of our time not to ensure she can shoot and fight at the level of a RangeMan, especially as she’s in charge of us all.
Mr. Plum stubs his cigar and pulls his whiskey. We each take a small amount. We all need it.
“My wife will never tell Pumpkin what it meant to her to kill the man in the bunny suit. She doesn’t want Pumpkin to have that on her heart. But I intend that my wife will never be forced to do that again.”
Mr. Plum looks fierce, and we all nod. Yes, we agree.
“If my daughter intends to do this job, she will do it right. She will do it with skill. She will do it with training. I’ve been to Mass after Mass thanking God for that broken leg. So, what I need to know is what do you need from me, well, us?”
We’re stunned. Mr. Plum has moved firmly into the support column on probation, and if his wife is also involved in this endeavor, I’ll give her the same status. I need to see more support from her, support that is based on the fact that Angelita is her daughter whom she loves. I will give her credit where credit is due. Tonight’s meal was appropriate, she asked questions about Angelita’s training, and there were no mentions of marriage or babies. Now, how can the Plums help us push her along?
We think for a moment and finally I speak.
“Lo que has hecho esta noche es lo que necesitamos. Más de la misma. Si sólo nos empujándola, Angelita empuja hacia atrás. Ella se pone terca con nosotros. Su apoyo y aliento, incluso el suyo más que el de su esposa, es necesario.” (What you’ve done tonight is what we need. More of it. If it’s just us pushing her, Angelita pushes back. She gets stubborn with us. Your support and encouragement, yours even more than your wife’s, is necessary.)
Zip translates for Mr. Plum, who nods then grins.
“Done. On a side note, any chance you can teach me to shoot? Driving a cab is dangerous and knowing how to protect myself isn’t a bad idea.”
We smile. “As long as you’re willing to promise that you won’t use what we teach you against, say, your mother-in-law?” Hal says.
Mr. Plum laughs. “No problem. I promise.” He takes a drag of the cigar. “I’d use the knife skills on the old bat.”
Every man in the garage smiles.
Steph’s POV
This has been the weirdest dinner. Mom and Dad have been acting weird, and Granny Mazur is smiling.
“I like Hector. He’s a pip.”
“Grandma, what are you up to?” I heard a small part of her whispers. My partner is indestructible.
“Nothing.” She smiles. “I like him. He’s sharp and he’s not scared of me. Messing with him is fun.”
“So are you just doing this for a laugh?”
“Not many laughs for a woman my age. Your RangeMan boys are cowards but not that Hector. He has balls, and plenty of them. Like Ranger.”
RangeMen? Cowards? I don’t think I’ve ever heard those words used in the same sentence.
“Mother! That’s not appropriate conversation for the dinner table.” Mom is frowning at Grandma, who laughs.
“For Christ’s sake, Helen, nothing is appropriate conversation for the dinner table with you around. Balls! Say it, balls!” Grandma crows. I can’t help laughing, but Mom is scandalized. She turns to me.
“Ignore your Grandmother. I’m happy to see that you’re learning some skills and that you managed to give that horrible Joyce girl a run for her money. What do you think they’ll teach you next?”
I’m sorry, but I still don’t know who this woman is. Is this my mother? MY mother? It can’t be. This woman is interested in my skills and wants to know what I’m doing. I haven’t received one lecture tonight about what I should be doing or about getting married or having babies. Something’s not right.
“Ummm …I don’t know what they have planned next. I’m so busy with work that sometimes it’s all I can do to stay awake.”
Mom places another piece of pie in front of me. That’s three slices to make up for the gravy-less meal tonight. Mom and Ella cannot talk ever again.
“Well, make sure you pay attention during these lessons and learn as much as you can. I like the idea that you managed to evade Leslie Barnhardt’s daughter. Isn’t she the one that slept with Richard?”
Thanks for bringing that up, Mom.
“Oh, good job Helen,” Grandma says, frowning. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Stephie wanted to be reminded of, her sorry ex-husband and his mistress.” Grandma turns to me. “You should get together with the boys and run a tail on her. Run her right into the woods, get her lost, and leave her there.”
Hmm …I need to write that down for later.
Mom sits. “Sorry, Stephanie.” We eat our pie in silence. “Well, where are you off to next?”
“Well, it was supposed to be NYC, but I think I’ll skip them for now and head to Miami. I got an email from Julie, Ranger’s daughter. She’s graduating from middle school and wanted to know if I could come to the ceremony, so I think I’ll make a surprise visit into the RangeMan Miami office.”
“So you’re close to Ranger’s daughter?”
I nod. “Yes. Julie and I email each other all the time. She’s a really sweet girl.”
Mom nods. “I think that’s nice, that you have a relationship with her. You two were the only ones held by that mad man so you’ll always have a connection. Is Ranger OK with your relationship with his child?”
“Yes.” Again, who is this woman?
“Do you think he’s interested in getting married again? Perhaps having more children?” Mom asks, looking hopeful.
I relax. There she is. There’s my mother. “I don’t know, Mom. That’s not something we talk about.”
Mom frowns, opens her mouth, looks at me, then sighs. “Well, perhaps in time.”
“Well, I think you should make a move for him. He’s got an exciting job and an excellent package! Prime rump roast on that boy!” Grandma cackles.
“Mother!” Mom says, shaking her head. “Is that all you think of? Sex? No, don’t answer that. Stephanie, what do you do in your job? What does a Managing Director do?”
I give Mom an overview of what I do and she smiles.
“It all sounds complicated. Are you able to keep up with everything? Do you need help with it?”
What is she up to? “No, not really. The XOs have the difficult job. I just oversee them.”
Mom pats my hands. “Well, still sounds complicated. More coffee?”
I decline. This is just too weird, and I don’t want to be up all night thinking about it. Sarah will still be in the gym at 6AM tomorrow.
The guys walk back in. I can’t wait until I get to go smoke a cigar in the garage with the men. Being left behind for the inquisition is not fun. Daddy slips out the dining room and returns with a holster.
“I used to keep my pistol in this holster. Keep your gun in it and keep it on you at all times. You are a security chief. Dress like it.”
I’m looking at the holster in surprise. Daddy meant that. He expects me to carry my gun.
I smell a conspiracy between RangeMan and my Daddy. What do they talk about in that garage? I need to know.
Clearly, there’s more to the garage than cigars. If Daddy pops up at RangeMan, I’ll have all the evidence I need.
