Chapter 69.7: Girls Night Out, Part II
Steph’s POV—Saturday Night
Honestly, I was more interested in getting some sleep this weekend, but ML and Connie insisted.
“You’ve been at the beach, surrounded by handsome, buff RangeMen for six weeks! Time for girl time!”
I still had no interest in going until Lula calls. “Steph! You coming out with us tonight?”
I yawn. “I was thinking of calling it a night.”
“Damn. I was looking forward to showing you the ring.”
I perk up. “Well, maybe a few minutes. What’s the plan?”
“So far, dinner at that fancy ass place Tank took us to. We have big things to celebrate.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m getting married, you’re blowing RangeMan up, Connie had a date—”
“Really?”
“A doctor, girl! She’s excited.”
I grin . “She’s given up on Ram?”
“She says the RangeMen are too intense. Apparently, she’s hot on Ram, and I can see why”–I laugh—”but you know. The Family . . . “
Yeah, good point. If they ever found out Ram was a sniper, they’d pressure him into becoming a hit man. A sniper with Special Forces training? That kind of skill would be too much for them to pass on and Ram would resist. Plus, RangeMan likes its men to cut ties to groups that might divide their loyalty. That would definitely be a conflict of interest.
Yeah, too much pressure there.
“What kind of doctor?”
“Cardiologist.”
Jackpot! Congrats, Connie! “OK, I’m in. I definitely want to know how she met him.” I’m looking around the apartment for my keys and jacket when I realize I’d have to take a RangeMan. Damn. My clearance can’t start soon enough. “I’m going to have a RangeMan.”
“I know. We know. Which one?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll text you.” Click.
I head down to the fifth floor. It’s quiet tonight and Ram’s on duty. He smiles as I approach. “Hey.”
“Hey. I’m headed out. Girls night out.”
A frown. “OK. You need an escort?”
I stare at him. Is this a trick question? “Have the rules changed?”
He chuckles. “Not really. If you’re going somewhere public, we’ll tail discreetly. If you’re going to be somewhere private, like ML’s or Connie’s house, we’re willing to leave you alone as long as you have your phone and trackers.” I stare at Ram and he nods. “New protocol for the CO. As long as we’re aware of where you are and you have the phone and trackers, we’ll back off. It worked at the beach.”
I text Connie to call ML and I’ll call Lula. Let’s get on a four-way and figure this out.
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“OK, what’s the plan? My guys”—Ram grins—”are going to tail us if we go out in public but if we’re in private, they’ll leave us alone.”
It’s quiet for a moment before ML says, “Lula, you’re moving in what? A month? Two weeks?”
“Yeah.”
“You need help packing?”
“Oooh, yeah! I haven’t even started thinking about how I’m gonna box this stuff up.”
“Well, as someone who has moved twice in her life, I’ll tell you: you can’t start too early packing up. So how about we come over with boxes and help? We’ll go out to dinner to celebrate then spend the night at your place, bring wine, and help you get started.”
“I’m in,” Connie says. “ML is right. We’ll make this a girls’ night in. You’re getting married and, even though Steph and I are now divorced, you’re going to be a married woman. All kinds of stuff you need to know.”
We all laugh, although I’m wondering what I could possibly add to that discussion. Don’t get too attached to your dining room table?
Woody won the draw. He disappeared from RangeMan and turned up 30 minutes later, freshly shaven and dressed down in jeans and a soft gray t-shirt. The cowboy boots and hat were a nice touch. Woody screams ‘Texas’ but he didn’t want to move back and work from San Antonio. No good memories, he says. I haven’t asked why.
We stop by ML’s first, then Connie’s and finally Lula’s. We’re hyped and this is the first time we’ve seen Lula in weeks.
She wasn’t wearing Spandex. We nearly didn’t recognize her.
“Lula, have you given up the stretchy stuff?” ML asks delicately. Connie and I try our best not to laugh but we can’t help it. I can see Woody hiding a smile too.
“Nope,” Lula answers, annoyed. “But hell, I’m gettin’ married. I’m not in the streets anymore and I’m thinking of becoming a professional.” She thinks about that for a moment. “I mean, doing a real professional job. Time to start dressin’ like my new life.”
We all nod . “You look great in the wrap dresses, Lula.”
“Thanks! I gotta admit, I thought I looked old-fashioned, but something about these thangs gets Tank hot.”
I see Woody cringe slightly. He looks over at me and flashes a quick grin. I’m sure I cringed slightly too. I love Tank. I’d prefer not to think of Tank getting ‘hot’ for any reason.
“And you were right, Steph. It was hot as hell in Texas and Louisiana. You could melt into a puddle standing still. That’s why I kept buying ’em in Texas. I own like 20 of ’em now.”
Connie and ML laugh. “Well, as someone who has to cover more than most, we’ll go shopping and get some more sexy things that’ll make Tank hot,” Connie says.
Lula grins and she and Connie start talking about dresses and going shopping. ML leans forward. “Steph, you OK?” she asks quietly. I nod. “OK, you just don’t seem like yourself right now.”
I smile. I’m sure I don’t. I’ve been thinking about Manny and worrying about him. I try to pay attention to the discussion in the back but I’m mentally elsewhere. We finally arrive at the restaurant and Woody stops out front to let everyone out. He touches my arm and shakes his head slightly. I sigh and sit back against the seat.
“Steph, you coming?” Lula asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be with you guys in a moment. We’ll park and join you.”
“He driving. It don’t take both of you to park.”
“I look for parking spaces,” I reply, a bit irritated. Complete lie. Parking spaces just magically appear for RangeMen. I’m completely useless here.
ML and Connie pull Lula into the restaurant, ML turning slightly to smile. Woody pulls off and heads around to the back.
“Thanks.”
“No prob.”
“Steph?”
“Hmm?”
“Stop.” I look over at Woody, who looks grim. “You look like Ranger right now. Stop. Stop doing it.” Woody slides into a parking space (right next to the back door. RangeMen. Parking spaces are always available.) and turns the truck off. He turns to me, a small smile on his face.
“You’re worried about Manny, you’re tired after all the fun you had at the beach, and at some point you’re going to start stressing over this clearance. Stop. For tonight, put all that in the back of your mind and enjoy time away with your girlfriends.”
“I am—”
“You’re not.” He takes my hands and rubs them. “Somehow, Ranger would come back from vacations more tired than when he left.” He smirks. “We learned to stay out of sight for a day or two.”
I frown. “Is that why everyone is tip-toeing around me?” Woody laughs and I roll my eyes. “Great, let’s tip away from the emotional woman instead of asking her what’s wrong.”
Woody stops laughing and looks at me. “No, that’s not it at all. Steph, the longer you’ve been in this job, the more you’ve become Ranger in some aspects. We’ve never been able to read the man, but having you around, we’re starting to understand now because we can read you. Right now, you’re more worried about your man, Manny, than you are concentrating on having fun with your friends. Well, if I can give you some advice, this is where you take on Ranger’s ability to compartmentalize. At least for one night.
We are keeping an eye on Manny. We won’t let him hang himself in his apartment. You need to have fun with your girlfriends. You’ve been gone for six weeks. Lula’s been in Texas for two months. Catch up on everyone’s life tonight and allow us to take care of home, or in this case, RangeMan.”
I blow out a breath so I don’t cry. “Thanks, Woody.” I wonder if he knows that I don’t know how to compartmentalize.
“No problem.” He unlocks the doors and we walk back into the restaurant, Woody rubbing my back to the door. He requests a ‘two-top’ while I join the girls at the table and slide in next to ML. I’m putting Woody’s advice into practice.
This is girl time. I’m focusing on my friends.
Woody was right. Once I make the decision to pay attention to what’s going on, I have fun. Lula’s ring is breathtaking. We take so many pictures that the restaurant starts taking on a disco ball feel. Lula talks about her in-laws, her trouble with Tank’s youngest sister, and her determination to go to school. She doesn’t want to talk about the wedding.
“Tank and I are trying not to stress it right now. We decided that, right now, we need to concentrate on learning how to live together, so I’ve been trying not to think about it.”
We all stare at Lula in confusion.
“Umm … Lula, I gotta say . . .” ML is grasping for words.
“I don’t understand that,” Connie says baldly. “Shit, I spent months obsessing over my wedding. Everything from flowers to favors. Nothing was too small for my attention.”
Again, I have nothing to add to this discussion. I spent my time being ordered to dress fittings, being told what my flowers and favors would be, and trying to enjoy sleeping with Dickie. I mean, he wasn’t bad but I’d had much better in college and a lot better since.
Why did I marry Dickie?
Lula looks amused. “You know, I never expected some big thing out of Tank. I always assumed that, if we got married, it’d be at the courthouse, in-between takedowns, and I’d spend my wedding night flat on my back.”
We all snort.
Lula laughs. “Yeah. Tank was highly insulted by that. I told him, when have you ever been romantic with me? Shit, we been fuckin’ forever and we do shit on occasion, but”—she shrugs—”ain’t like he’s big on romance.” She grins big. “Turns out, all the stuff he used to do for me, making sure I had food, spending time with me, keeping my Firebird tuned, that was romance to him.”
We all laugh. ML turns red, tears rolling down her face.
“Oh god yeah, men,” she says between laughs. “That’s romance to them. Doing the things you need done without you having to say anything. Took me years to figure that out and I only got it when Grace Gooley was complaining about her husband. Remember her, Steph?” I nod. Grace the Great, the Valerie of my class. “Anyway, she was complaining she had to bitch and moan at her husband to do simple things like take the garbage out and mow the yard and I remember thinking that Lenny did those things automatically. I never had to ask him to do those things.”
“Yeah, but that’s a cop out,” I reply. “I mean, that’s letting them get away with doing a couple of household chores in exchange for not doing other stuff to be romantic. I mean, if you stopped cooking, would you expect him to see you making dinner as a sign of your being romantic? Or is that just what you do because you have a family and they need to be fed?”
Everyone is quiet. I have no idea where that came from.
“I mean…” I’m quiet, trying to figure out how to say what I’m thinking . “Ranger knows if I ever cook him something that I put some effort into that. He’s going to appreciate it, after he checks it for poison.”
The girls crack up, but I see Woody and Ram smile too. I sigh. “Where’s the microphone, guys?” They shake their heads. Ram lowers his hand, telling me I’m kinda loud. Oh.
“I agree with Steph,” Connie says. “Romance should be purposeful.”
ML snorts. “Then you two are doomed to disappointment. Men aren’t forgetful or neglectful but as a whole, they’re concerned about day to day living.”
I raise a hand then look around Lula at Ram. Woody’s grinning and Ram is doing his best to avoid looking at me. Woody whispers something and Ram finally sighs and leaves his table, pulling a chair over to sit next to me.
“You’ve heard the conversation. Chime in.” I look at the girls. “I trust Ram to tell me the truth. He always does.” They lean toward Ram. Ram gives me a long-suffering look.
“OK, here’s my opinion. My opinion only.” We nod, curious. “Women think of romance as purposeful acts. You think of romance as flowers and candy and walks in the park, right?”
“Right,” Connie says, leaning forward.
“Well, I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m saying you’ve been fed a steady diet of that, so it’s your expectation. Everything around you says that romance is the fluttery feelings and big bouquets and special moments. Well, men are fed a different understanding. Flowers and candy and walks in the park are the big things for dating. That’s when you’re trying to make your best impression. That’s when you’re still trying to capture her attention.
When you want to show a woman you love her, you fix the dishwasher before she has to call the plumber.” ML grins and starts nodding. “You take out the trash. You make sure the oil change is done. You do the small things that make her life glide along smoothly. You’re fucking up when she has to remind you to do those things.”
Connie, Lula and I are staring at Ram. ML is nodding, smug.
“A man who loves you, he’s going to do the things that have to be done in order to make your life better. You shouldn’t have to tell him to mow the lawn. You might have to remind him to vacuum but once you make it clear that you appreciate him doing that, he’ll do it because in exchange for him doing those thing, you cook and clean. You keep track of the family. You make love to him and have his babies. You make his life happy in a million small ways. A man with his head on right, he recognizes that you do a million things that he has no clue about.
Now romance? We make an effort on birthdays and anniversaries because we’ve been taught that if you forget those days it will never be forgiven. But women remember the anniversary of the first date and the first kiss. Men remember the wedding anniversary. Our list of important days is smaller.”
I’m thinking about this. Ranger filled my cabinets. He put bullets in my gun. He tried to make me go to the range. He put gas in my cars. I was getting love from Ranger but I was also getting confusing words. I want words too.
Ram looks at me and sighs. “Now, Steph has a point. If you let him get away with doing household chores as romance, you’ve basically set your expectations low and you’ll have hell trying to raise them. You can raise them, though.” Ram drops his head, shakes it, and looks up, smiling. “I’ll deny this if anyone ever asks, but men can be trained.”
Our jaws drop. The answer to the eternal question. It can be done. Ram looks amused at the glee on our faces.
“Yeah, it can be done. It’s called praise. You have to praise the hell out of us.”
Our faces fall. ML is grinning again. “Positive reinforcement,” ML says.
“Yeah. I mean, we love giving Steph flowers at RangeMan. She always looks so happy. We’ve been doing it for months and we’ll keep doing it as long as she’s in the company because we’ve seen the look on her face every time she gets a new bouquet. We like watching her gush over them and look the flowers and their meanings up.” I’m smiling and Ram taps my arm with his fist. I stick my tongue out at him. “Until we started giving Steph flowers, most of the men in the company had no interest in flowers. Now we’re all damn near flower experts.”
I laugh. The girls look jealous.
“In any case, RMTrenton is trained. Flowers make the Managing Director happy, so we give her flowers and we tell the other branches to give her flowers.”
“And when you need to bribe her you give her something sweet,” ML says.
Ram nods and turns to Lula. “You kept buying wrap dresses for the same reason. Tank made it clear how much he loved seeing you in them. Positive reinforcement. You buy them, he appreciates them, you buy more of them.”
“Well damn,” Lula breathes. Ram knocks on the table and rejoins Woody. Connie’s near drooling over Ram.
“Did anyone catch how many words that was?”
We look at each other and laugh.
We leave and go to Lula’s apartment. It’s a mess.
“Well, this is how it looked when I left for Texas. I was trying not to miss the plane.”
We start moving things around to have space. We have bottles of wine and desserts (and a pint of healthy sorbet for me from Ella) and we figure out why Ram joined Woody at the restaurant.
He bought packing supplies.
“Wow,” Lula breathes. “Damn. Didn’t think about that.” We’re looking at the piles of boxes, tape, labels, and packing peanuts Woody and Ram carted in.
Ram smiles. “I thought you might not have, and all the U-Haul places are closed now so I swung by one on the way to the restaurant. Anyway, if you ladies are going to have a packing party, you need the right stuff.” He looks at me. I raise my phone; he raises his, nods at me, and leaves.
Lula is swallowing hard. “You know, I’ve gone from resenting the RangeMen to actually liking them.”
“You resented them?” I ask, trying to open the bundle of boxes. Connie produces a switchblade and expertly cuts the bundle open.
“Yeah.” Lula looks around. “Hell, Tank was always so damn busy at RangeMan that we could barely see each other when he was here. Ranger always had you doing something for him, especially lately, then you took over the company and them RangeMen will barely let you past the door. RangeMan could be renamed ‘building of the body-snatchers’.”
That makes us all laugh. I catch ML’s eye and we really crack up. I wonder when they’ll capture ML.
“I’d get pissed ‘cept they got me in Texas. If I didn’t make an effort to go see Mrs. Carol Jean, I pretty much lived in that damn building.”
We look at Connie, who grins. “I’ll be happy to take up residence in RangeMan Trenton, especially if Ram is a part of the view.”
“What about the doctor?” I tease.
“Oh!” Connie lights up. “Marvin Cowen. 40, divorced, two preteens who live with their mother in Bordentown. From Cherry Hill and currently lives there. I had him checked out and everything checks out.”
“Describe him.”
“Hmm …” Connie swirls her wine, kicks off her heels and leans against the couch. “5’10”. Curly brown hair cut close. Brown eyes. Nose job. He says he broke his nose playing college ball and I found out he played rugby at Dartmouth.” We’re all drooling at this point. “He kept the body too. Nice and tight. Runs marathons for heart disease. Johns Hopkins Med, interned at the Mayo Clinic—”
“How did you meet him?” ML asks, wide-eyed. We all are.
“Uncle Jimmy. Slight arrhythmia and Marvin was a visiting doctor at the hospital.” Connie laughs. “Uncle Jimmy is not thrilled.”
“Why?” Jesus, he’s perfect.
“Marvin put him on a low-calorie, low fat diet. Half of the traditional Sicilian-American diet has been banned.”
We laugh. Vegetables. The natural enemy of every Italian.
“Sooo . . . when’s the second date?”
Connie’s smile drops. “I don’t know. He’s too perfect.” She sighs. “I’m not saying that I don’t think I’m good enough for him, because I’m perfect for whoever I want”—we nod—”but . . . “
“Hard to believe he’s even interested in you?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah.” Connie nods.
Lula hands her a phone. “Call him.” Connie stares at her. “Me and Steph, we know that feeling. I’m getting married to my perfect man. Steph’s waiting for hers to come back from overseas. ML’s been married to him for years. Call him. If he’s your man, you need to get date #2 lined up.”
Lula stands there, hands on hips, glaring at Connie until Connie leaves the room, dialing Marvin on her way out. Lula harrumphs.
“We’ve been waiting all our damn lives for these men to show up, then we run ‘cuz they seem too perfect. Well, I’ve been living with mine and I tell you, Tank ain’t perfect. That man’s never heard of a salt shaker.”
That makes me and ML laugh. Connie returns, all smiles. She and Marvin are going to the movies on Wednesday.
ML walks us through packing. First, sort everything. Toss the stuff Lula’s been meaning to throw out, old sheets and towels, anything ratty and useless. Grab the out of season stuff and the stuff Lula’s not using right now and pack that first.
That’s pretty much the entire night, just going through linens and clothes. Lula realized she wouldn’t need most of her heavy New Jersey winter clothes and boots but ML told her to keep it for one season. Texas might have a cold snap she didn’t know about yet and she could end up needing it.
Finally, near midnight, we collapse on the couch and floor with the wine and desserts and start talking. Lula is happy.
“I mean, Mrs. Carol Jean is great and she’s quick to tell me stuff. She was the one that convinced me to stay two months, to live with Tank and see what that was like.”
“And?”
Lula laughs. “Rough. I’m a night owl. Tank’s up with the sun. I love long car rides. He hates ’em. I hate his cooking and he gives the side-eye to Popeyes. The first month was rough cuz we had to divide chores, and I told Tank that if he wanted me to live with him, he was gonna have to get a grip. He had that Army allegiance to clean.”
We laugh. I have to agree, so does Ranger.
“I would clean the tub and turn around 10 minutes later and Tank’s pointing out all the dirt that he sees that I still don’t see. Don’t get me started on cleaning the oven.”
Which is why I use mine for shoe storage, ala Carrie Bradshaw. Smartest idea ever and no one has ever firebombed my kitchen.
“We finally divided the chores into ‘Dirt Tank sees’ and ‘Dirt Tank doesn’t give a damn about’.” We’re in tears at this point. “I make the bed, wash clothes, pay bills, and grocery shop. Tank cleans. I came back from the grocery store one morning and he was cleaning the sink with a damn toothbrush.” I swear I’m going to need a Tylenol after this. “We got a special cup in the house for toothbrushes he uses for cleaning.”
“He uses more than one?” ML gasps, laughing.
Lula rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard enough about cross-contamination to last a lifetime and I never even heard about cross contamination before Tank. Sponges and toothbrushes for each bathroom and the kitchen each have a plastic cup and he goes bonkers if you switch them up. Tank cleans. I do everything else.”
I’m wondering what I’m bringing to my relationship with Ranger. I don’t clean unless I’m pissed and, in the Trenton apartment, Ella’s brilliant at cleaning. When it was just me and Ranger, Ranger cleaned. I get the feeling I’m going to have to learn which toothbrushes not to use.
“What about Maria?”
“Our apartment at RangeMan isn’t ready yet, so we were still living off-site, but Maria and Rafe?” Lula snorts and tosses her shoes into a corner. “Rafe was an insane man with dirt. Maria and I would laugh. He got crazy over fingerprints. The San Antonio boys started joking that it would be easier to wear gloves everywhere.”
I pour myself another glass of wine. “What’s it like there? Any attitude issues with the vets and the other men? Everyone get along OK? Is—”
“I’m not talking about it,” Lula says emphatically. “This is girls night out. No discussing work. I’m not interested in hearing about Vinnie.” We all laugh and Connie shudders. Lula pours herself another glass of wine. “You gotta put a stop to that, Steph. You’ll wear yourself down. Tank, Lester and Bobby love what you’re doing with the company. Quit worrying all the time.”
I sigh and relax back into the couch. “Right. Stop thinking about the company.”
ML pats me on the shoulder and picks up. “OK, so things I wish I knew before I got married.” Lula grins and sits forward. “I wish I’d known that the man I married was the man I married.” Lula looks confused. “Don’t expect to change him. Even now, Lenny is still pretty much the man he was at 18.”
I laugh and nod. “True. Lenny has not changed at all.”
Connie refills her wine bottle. “I wish I’d known you marry the family too.” We snicker.
“I’m sure that’s what Tony wished he knew,” Lula says, and we burst into laughter.
“True,” Connie says, wiping her eyes, “but what I mean is when you marry a man, you marry his family just like he marries yours. Tony’s family had spoiled him beyond belief. I wish I’d known that.”
ML and Connie start a laundry list of things they wished they’d known. I’m still stuck at ‘don’t get attached to your dining room table’. Finally, I know what I want to say to Lula.
“Marry because you’re ready, not because he asked or because you’re lonely.” Everyone nods. “I married a charmer for all the wrong reasons. I mean, I was interested in Dickie because he had a hot car and he was charming. I stuck with him because he was my ticket out of the Burg and being married would shut my mom up. I didn’t marry Dickie because I loved him. I married Dickie because he was convenient.” I take a sip of wine and mutter, “I nearly made the same mistake all over again.”
It’s quiet. ML puts her wine down and rubs my shoulders. “Explain that, Steph,” she says softly.
I take another gulp of wine. “I mean, I like Joe. I love Joe, but not in the way needed for me to marry him. That’s why I kept running from him. I would have married Joe when I got too injured to be a bounty hunter. I would have married him if Ranger died. I would have married him when I hit menopause or if I ended up pregnant. But I would not have married Joe because I was head over heels in love with him. I would have married him because I had no other choice. Joe was convenient. We’ve been dating for what? Four years? I would have stretched that out for another ten if given a chance.”
We all sit back and refill the wine. “And Ranger?” Connie asks, swirling hers.
I smile. “I’m not saying I would marry Ranger tomorrow because I wouldn’t. I’m not even sure I want to be married but, unlike Joe, that’s an option with Ranger. Ranger and I could have a committed relationship without ever getting married. Joe would have eventually started pressuring me to get married. Actually, he did. That’s what we broke up over a few months ago.” I take a gulp of wine. Connie and Lula are staring in shock. I nod. “He gave me an ultimatum.”
“Well damn. That was dumb,” Lula says.
“Yeah, but it was also fair to him. He was sick of the back and forth. He was sick of never knowing if we would ever get married or if I was just jerking him around waiting on Ranger.” Everyone nods. “I’m not ready to be married, but being with Ranger doesn’t scare me half as much as being with Joe. With Ranger, there’ll always be an option, a choice.” I look at all of them. “They ran a psyop on me.”
“What!” Three incredulous looks of indignation. I smile.
“Yeah. To force me to get the training. Bobby, Tank, and Lester. I’m almost certain Ranger wasn’t involved in it. Not his style. But BLT”—Lula laughs—”got sick of watching me get hurt. They forced me to get this training so Ranger would feel safe being in a relationship with me. I’m his biggest weakness and I’ve already been used against him.”
They all sober. No one will ever forget Scrog.
“And to tell the truth, they did a good job. I’ve learned a hell of a lot more than they expected, about me, about Ranger, and about my life. The best part of it?” They lean forward. “They removed me from the Burg.”
Connie’s forehead scrunches in confusion. “No they didn’t. RangeMan in still in Trenton.”
“No,” ML breathes, “I see what you mean. You only went to your parents house when you wanted to and even then you had an escort. You weren’t in your apartment by yourself. They isolated you in their building, the building of the body-snatchers,” she says, grinning at Lula.
“Exactly. Isolated in the RangeMan building, surrounded by Ranger’s life all the time, it gave me a chance to really decide how I wanted to live mine. I thought I was independent but I realized in NYC that I wasn’t. I was dependent on skips, my mother, and Vinnie. The skips try to kill me, my mother wants me married, and Vinnie is just slimy.”
We all laugh. “Ranger is truly independent. He does what he wants when he wants because he’s worked hard to have those options. Ranger could sell RangeMan tomorrow and still be OK. If I missed a month without a skip I was desperate, which is how I occasionally ended up working for Ranger.” I refill the wine and sit back. Everyone is smiling at me, nodding slightly. “I’ve had a chance to live that life now. Before he left, Ranger said he wanted me to stay at RangeMan, do his job, kinda test drive his life. Well I have, and you know what I’ve learned?”
I smile as they lean forward.
“I love being the CO and I love that the Burg has no idea what I’m up to. I’m not subject to the gossip anymore and I could care less about their opinions. I love that I’m making enough to be independent and that I have a job that’s fun and exciting and isn’t necessarily behind a desk all the time. I love that I get to make orders and do as I please and once I finish this clearance, I’ll be able to go wherever I want without a guard. I like this life.
I’m sure there’s more I haven’t seen yet but, so far, living this life hasn’t been bad. Tonight at the restaurant, I saw two of my mother’s friends. Before, I would have gone over to say hello and been hit with questions and opinions. Tonight I merely nodded at them as we left. They were stunned. They expected me to stop by their table and I didn’t.
That’s what I mean. I finally have had a chance to live my life, in Trenton but without the Burg in my face all the time, and I love it. I love that they don’t have a clue.”
