Author's Note:
Inspired by the song "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg. I highly suggest you check the lyrics and listen to the song. It is such a mood. ALSO, there will be a second chapter. I repeat - there WILL BE ANOTHER CHAPTER. Many thanks to KathyJoK for the beta.
SHAKING OFF THE COLD
The automatic doors swished open and a blast of cold night air seemed to push Ranger into the warmth of the grocery store. He strode in far enough to be out of the way of the people entering after him, then stopped to scan the layout. As he reconnoitered, he rubbed his hands together, disappointed that the silk lined leather gloves had let the cold seep in. Dipping his chin down, he pressed his neck and jaw into the soft cashmere scarf that was tucked into the wool twill of his Burberry overcoat, searching for even the tiniest bit more warmth. The skin on his cheeks stung from the cold wind, wet with flurries, and his ears hurt. He'd give anything for a thick wool watch cap.
Despite the outerwear purchased specifically for this trip, Ranger had felt chilly the minute he'd stepped off the plane. He'd prefer to think that was due to all the years basking in the sun of Miami and not his advancing age. Then again, winter in Chicago was nobody's favorite time of year, even for the locals. He'd been tempted to show up in his usual working clothes. Those were tough, practical, and definitely warm. But guiding a newly acquired branch through the change in leadership needed a certain look. Once this office was fully integrated, he'd be in cargo pants and a parka if he came back again in winter.
When he was shopping for this trip, he'd been reminded of how she'd named his different outfits. She probably would have labeled this as part of the Corporate Ranger collection. He'd smiled for a moment, thinking of her, until the ache took over as it always did.
Looked like aisle 24 might have what he wanted. Sighing internally, he headed toward the far side of the store, weaving past a double handful of shoppers lined up at the checkouts. He'd expected more people, considering this was the only store he'd passed that hadn't closed early for Christmas Eve.
As he rounded the corner into the aisle lined with freezer cases, he nearly collided with a cart going the other way. The old man rattled past, grunting out a perfunctory "Sorry" as Ranger quickly sidestepped, Then, the aisle was empty but for Ranger and a woman down at the other end. Her back was to him as she stood, one hand on her cart, staring into the freezer case.
Maybe it was the way her curly brown hair peeked out from under her knit cap. Maybe it was the slender build that was obvious even under the woolen peacoat. Maybe it was the jeans and black boots and giant red purse slung over one shoulder. Maybe it was because he'd thought of her recently, but the woman reminded him of Stephanie.
Ranger used to see her everywhere at first, even in Miami – a place he knew she'd avoid. There'd be a glimpse of wild brown hair or part of a profile and hope would swell. Heart rate increasing, breathing deepening, adrenaline rising, and he'd be ready to reach out, finally speak to her. But it wouldn't be her. It was never her. As the years passed and expectation dimmed, the mistaken sightings were fewer and farther between. There hadn't been one in a long time.
He'd never loved anyone the way he'd loved her, but he couldn't love her the way she wanted him to. The more years passed, the more his thoughts returned to their brief time together. Their arguments had been added to the playlist of failures, faux-pas, and cringe-worthy highlights of his life that constantly replayed in his head. That list used to be full of FUBAR missions then his brain started adding social missteps from childhood to current day. It seemed the older he got, the more his subconscious wanted to rub his nose in his faults and he recalled one of their clashes now.
Ranger came half out of his seat, reaching for his weapon, as the door to his office was flung open hard enough to crash into the wall. Stephanie came blazing in, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering with anger. She looked like an avenging angel. Through the door behind her, he saw the men in the control room pop into view drawn by the noise.
This time, she hurled the trackers directly at him instead of onto his desk. They were so small he didn't even feel them. Or maybe it was the adrenaline fog triggered by her explosive entrance that automatically dismissed them as inconsequential and kept his focus on her.
She faced him over the desktop, both hands tightly fisted. Her brows were drawn, jaw tight, as she shouted, "You're smothering me!"
After so many iterations of this same argument, his famous control had snapped and he roared back, "I'm keeping you safe!"
Resolutely, Ranger shut down the memory, turning his attention to the signs on the cases. Amused, he imagined what she'd say if she knew what he was buying.
His search brought him to the case next to the woman who was now rummaging in her purse. As she pulled up a torn bit of paper with what looked like a list scribbled across it, he caught a whiff of perfume. Steph's perfume. And he knew. This time, he knew. He watched as his hand reached out and touched her sleeve.
Her head jerked up at the contact. It took a moment for recognition to replace surprise, then Stephanie gasped and whispered his name. She tried to stuff the paper back into the purse but her movements were uncoordinated, her attention clearly elsewhere. The purse thumped to the floor, its contents clattering out onto the white tile.
Cursing under her breath, she knelt down to pick up the mess. There were various compacts with eyeshadow, at least three different brands of mascara, and handfuls of crumpled receipts.
Ranger dropped to one knee, suppressing a wince when the hard floor pressed on the joint. Every month, he came closer to relenting and getting that arthroscopic procedure. He began collecting the more wayward items that had gone farther, including a couple of plastic wrapped snack cakes. He guessed some things didn't change.
Stephanie hadn't changed, either. Oh, the makeup had toned down from Jersey Girl to understated elegance and there were fine lines around her mouth and eyes. But those eyes were still as blue as the sea and as mesmerizing as the waves.
As she shoved everything back into her bag, he saw the rings on her left hand. For a moment he couldn't breathe as pain sliced through his chest. He'd heard, of course, all those years ago but somehow he'd been able to push it aside. Ignore it. Seeing the wedding band now hurt almost as much as getting the intel had back then. Again, he automatically compartmentalized. Stuffing the pain down, he put a pleasant expression on his face as they stood.
Stephanie looked him over, her curious gaze frankly assessing before she said, "That silver at the temples makes you look distinguished." She waved a hand from his toes to his head and back down. "Really completes the Uptown Ranger look. I didn't think it was possible, but you're more handsome now than ever."
She was trying for light and breezy but there was an underlying tension in her voice. Still, warmth flowed through him at the compliment. If she wanted breezy, he'd give her breezy.
"Uptown?" Ranger pretended to examine his outfit. "And here I was, aiming for Corporate Ranger."
Steph laughed and gave a genuine smile that quickly faded. "It's one of those versatile outfits that'll fit in either collection." After a pause, she tilted her head and asked, "What are you doing wandering around the Chicago suburbs?"
Knowing how irritated she'd always been by Reticent Ranger, he tried to give a detailed answer. "We're branching out. Just bought a small security firm near here. The legal merge was effective December first and the branding will change January first."
He had a feeling it wasn't enough, though, and the flat look she gave him confirmed that.
"Okay. But what are you doing right here, right now?" She waved her hand in a circle over her head, indicating the grocery store.
"This," he replied, opening the freezer door next to him and reaching in.
The corners of his mouth crinkled in his best almost-smile, anticipating her reaction as he pulled out two large boxes of toaster waffles. Steph didn't disappoint. Both eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead and she gaped at him.
"Wow! Forget not being a temple day. Looks like the temple is closed for the next couple of weeks," she joked.
"It's for the personnel on duty tomorrow." Ranger noted the additional height of her eyebrows. "I know. Not the usual Rangeman style. Yet. Apparently, they have potluck for holidays and the former management would contribute. These were specifically requested by the staff, so here I am." He shrugged his shoulders. "We can work on nutrition later."
She nodded her head but didn't speak. They stared at each other, the moment drawing out into uneasiness. The last time he'd felt this socially inept, he'd been in high school trying to ask a girl out for the first time. It hadn't gone well. Surprising even himself, Ranger was the one to break the silence.
"How's your family?" He'd tried to sound casual, as if his pulse wasn't pounding at being in arm's reach of her, but he'd damn near barked it out.
The question spurred activity as well as conversation. Apparently the few items in Steph's cart were all she had needed so they joined a line at the checkout. The food was totalled up and bagged while she filled him in on her parents, and the antics of her sister's family. It was stilted, and uncomfortable, but at least she was sharing. It was probably that etiquette her mother had drilled into her since birth. You could take the girl out of the Burg but not the Burg out of the girl, even after fifteen years away. He offered to carry her bags as well as his but she waved him off.
When they stepped out of the grocery store, the wind was blowing harder than before but the snow was still no more than a flurry. Ranger walked her to her car, glad to see it was a newer model four door sedan in good condition. Every mile she had driven in one of her old junkers had taken a year off his life – two years per mile in New Jersey's sloppy wet winter weather. There was no way one of her old beaters would survive in Chicago.
He'd noticed that she'd left herself out of the family updates entirely. Nothing about her time away much less her husband. Was it too much to ask how her life had been, now that she was standing in front of him?
"Maybe we could go somewhere out of the weather? Someplace we could talk. Get caught up?" Ranger hated the tentative note to his voice and tried to sound more assured as he hastily added, "If you have time."
Steph pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she mulled it over. Her hesitation felt like a rebuff and tugged at his heart. Had it been too much to hope that she'd at least been pleased to run into him?
Finally, she nodded. "I know a place that's still open. Follow me."
She led the way out of the parking lot, keeping to the speed limit in deference to the weather. Good thing the snow wasn't sticking to the roads yet. He followed her for a couple of miles with a turn here and there. Ranger grinned as Steph slowed and put on her blinker for the final turn. Of course. It was a bakery and cafe. One of the signs in the window said "Fresh Donuts All Day!". They were able to park near each other, on either side of a minivan.
An old fashioned bell that hung on the door rang as he opened it for Steph and motioned her in ahead of him. She took a moment to swipe her hand over her hair, getting the wind-whipped strands out of her face while he did a quick scan.
What looked to be a family of five, each holding a paper-wrapped treat, was heading from the counter to a table in the corner. An older couple were clearing their trash off of a table in the middle and gathering their coats. Two young men and a woman sat at another table, each holding a donut in one hand and their phone in the other.
The dark-complected man behind the counter greeted her cheerfully. "Merry almost Christmas, Stephanie. We're out of Boston Cremes but I think we've still got some apple fritters left."
"That's okay, Ronnie." Stephanie went up to the register, trailed by Ranger. "I just want a large hot chocolate, extra whipped cream."
"You got it." Ronnie turned his attention to Ranger. "And for you, sir?"
"Whatever hot tea you have with no caffeine." Ranger didn't care if it was black tea or herbal or what flavor it was. The drink was a prop, an excuse to sit, and give his hands something to do.
He paid and they watched Ronnie move efficiently in the narrow space behind the display cases. Ranger wondered if the staff here knew Stephanie on sight because she lived or worked nearby, or because it was a convenient stop between her home and work. He hesitated to ask. If she wanted him to know she'd tell him. She'd made that very clear before she left.
It was another day, another argument, most of which were centered around a common theme. This particular one occurred in the privacy of the penthouse so there wouldn't be whispers among the men when they thought he was out of earshot. It had been going long enough to circle over the same ground multiple times but Stephanie was still running hot.
"Quit spying on me." Her tone was harsh. Red splotches that his mother called stress rash mottled Stephanie's neck and collar bone. "And don't tell me that it's all part of safety and security. That's bullshit."
Every time they quarreled, it was harder to stay dispassionate. How many times did he have to explain the same things over and over before she truly listened?
Ranger raised his voice, letting the aggravation through. "It's not bullshit. I need to know – "
"No. You don't," Stephanie interrupted. "It's about control and I want mine back. If I want you to know something, ask me. And if I want you to know, I'll tell you."
Impatience rising, Ranger ran a hand through his hair then balled both hands into fists. Gritting his teeth, he fought the urge to shout at her. Dios mio, she still wasn't getting the point. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. It wasn't enough to keep his temper fully in check but it would have to do.
"Dammit, Stephanie. You could have been —"
"I. Wasn't." Stephanie jabbed a finger toward him as if she would rather be stabbing him with something else. "You pull this shit again and I swear I'll walk away and you will never find me."
Flouncing out, she slammed the door behind her. Despite the closed door, he heard every stomp of her shit-kicker boots as she went to the elevator. The next noise must have been her literally hitting the call button.
Fuming, Ranger paced his apartment, unable to find his center and calm down.
Once again, the only reason she hadn't been hurt was because he'd found out in time to stop the people planning to snatch her. And once again, she refused to believe that his intervention was all that had kept her from grievous harm or death. Instead, she always went straight for denial, insisting that there was no threat or it wasn't serious or, most alarming, that she could handle it by herself.
This time it was the Wilson Brothers. Built from the same physical mold as Cal, they were violent sociopaths with a string of gruesome murders to their names. Clever and vicious, the Wilsons enjoyed torturing their victims and they were very good at it. Rounding them up called for a special team, hand-picked by Ranger. Stephanie's approach of roaming openly around Mercer County pretending they didn't exist was not a viable plan.
If she'd put more effort – hell, ANY effort – into improving the necessary skill set for her job, then he wouldn't have to spend time and manpower trying to head off disaster or clean up after her. Until she took her job seriously – took threats seriously – he'd have to keep up the extra procedures. Better to have her alive and angry, considering the alternative.
Movement behind the counter broke him out of the memory.
"Here you go!" Ronnie's chipper voice matched his cheerful smile.
Murmuring their thanks, they took the cups and headed for a small table in the corner. Ranger sat against the wall where he had a full view of the interior and out the front window to the parking lot. Once situated, they peeled off their outer layers, draping the coats on their chairs. Steph put her purse on the floor by her feet.
The family of five had at least three conversations going simultaneously as the children chattered excitedly about Santa, reindeer, and presents, and which of them should get coal instead. Ronnie and whoever was in the kitchen were laughing back and forth. Festive Christmas pop songs played in the shop.
At their table, Ranger and Stephanie sipped their drinks and stared at their hands, out the window, or at the counter. Once, while shifting focus from the table top to the door behind her, his eyes met hers. They each hastily looked away. It lasted a fraction of a second but it made him feel exposed as if caught in a searchlight during a night op. The silence between them swelled and grew, taking on a life of its own. The longer it lasted the heavier it got and the harder it would be to break.
Again, Ranger surprised himself by being first to speak.
"I was sorry to hear about Edna." He meant that sincerely. Edna Mazur was one of a kind. People would be telling stories about her for years to come.
"I still miss her." Stephanie nodded, a brief smile lighting her face, though sadness filled her eyes. "Thank you for the flowers."
Ranger had wondered if she'd noticed, but he'd have sent them regardless. Even after Stephanie left, he'd made sure someone kept an eye on Grandma Mazur. From what he gathered, Edna's funeral had been the first and only time that Stephanie had returned to Trenton. She'd arrived the night before and left at dawn the morning after as if she couldn't bear to be there a moment longer than necessary.
Stepanie cleared her throat. "So, tell me about the guys. How are they doing?"
Ranger grinned and hit her with the most unexpected update first. "You'll never guess who's a devoted husband and father of three. Lester."
Stephanie gasped, then threw her head back and laughed. Pulling out his phone, Ranger gave photographic proof. They spent the next half hour remembering old times while he filled her in on what she'd missed. Not all of the news was happy and Stephanie had to wipe her eyes for Bones who was stabbed by a junkie and lost a hand to sepsis, Chet who dropped dead of an aneurysm, and Hank who died in a car accident. She was delighted by photos of Hector and his husband Matt.
Then he showed her a recent photo of Julie and she gasped again, breaking into a huge smile.
"Oh my god!" Steph looked at him, her eyes sparkling with delight. "You're going to be a grandpa!"
Ranger couldn't stop a similar smile from appearing on his face. On the one hand, forty-eight felt way too young to be a grandfather. On the other hand, he and Rachel had been much younger than Julie was now when they'd had her, so he couldn't really complain.
While recounting the tales, he frequently paused, giving her plenty of opportunities to share her stories in return. She did not. Eventually, the conversation wound down. Silence crept back in, more noticeable now that the boisterous family was gone. Ranger had always preferred silence but not today. Today it had been cloying. It was physically oppressive, bowing his shoulders under the weight of it. There were a few more awkward exchanges as they faced the inevitable. It was finally time to go.
Silent again, they walked to her car, pausing by the driver's side door. Ranger wondered if she was as reluctant to part as he was, but he couldn't think of anything more to say that might prolong this. And it wasn't as if they'd really reconnected or found common ground on any subject. He'd told her about himself, the new branch, and Rangeman in general. Besides that and the updates on people she used to know, there had been nothing to say. Nothing between them. There was fifteen years of empty space yawning like a canyon between them, too deep to see bottom and too wide to cross.
And Stephanie hadn't offered more. Hadn't told him about her life, or her work, or her hobbies. Or her husband. As much as it would grate on his nerves to hear about her with someone else, at least it would mean that she was talking to him. Treating him like a friend even if not a former lover. But she hadn't. Nor had she offered her phone number or asked about his. He was starting to see why his closed-mouth ways had annoyed her.
"Well," Steph said with a stiff smile. "I better get going."
Ranger nodded but neither of them moved. He'd noticed that she hasn't texted anyone about her delay in coming home, nor had she gotten a text. It crossed his mind that she didn't want her husband to know who she was with then wondered what she'd told him about Ranger or if she'd told him at all. Maybe she'd pushed the delay as far as she dared. He wasn't sure how long they'd have stayed like that if it hadn't been for the biting wind. It made her crazy curls even crazier and the tip of her nose was pink.
"It was good to see you, Babe." His voice was husky from being pushed through the tightness of his throat.
"You, too," she replied. She tried to hold the smile but couldn't. The corners of her mouth quivered and her eyes got a faraway look.
Once, Ranger would have died to protect her. Now, he was debating whether it was even proper to touch her. What farewell was appropriate after a decade and a half of silence? Give her a hug? A handshake? A nod and a wave?
What the hell. Hug it was. He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek, too. Something no husband could object to. The moment his lips touched her skin, he felt a tingle and heard Stephanie's sharply indrawn breath. She leaned her head back to look at him, her cheeks flushed. A reaction to him? To the frigid air? He wasn't sure, but the look in her eyes called to him, and he felt the electricity between them.
Ranger pulled Stephanie into him and kissed her, really kissed her, the way he'd dreamt of so often. Her mouth was warm and welcoming. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him. Even through the thick layers of his coat and hers, he could feel her trembling. It might have been his ego, but he was pretty sure it was him and not the cold making her shake like that. The kiss was sweet, hungry, and passionate overlaid with longing and love. It tasted of desire and regret and made his heart ache for what he'd lost. What he'd never have again.
Stephanie pulled back, chest heaving. One of her hands left his waist to cover her mouth as she caught her breath. Then that same hand reached out and rested on the side of his face, her thumb softly stroking his cheek bone. There was warmth in her palm where her mouth had been but her fingers were chilled. He made a mental note to get her some gloves before remembering that she wasn't his to care for. Hadn't been for a very long time.
Her eyes roamed his face, her expression guarded. He couldn't decipher it even when she held his gaze. She stepped away and then, with a catch in her voice, she said, "Goodbye".
Ranger heard a finality in the word that broke what little was left of his heart. Message received. He wouldn't chase her down or reach out again. Clearly, she was done.
While she got into her car and drove off, Ranger stood in the falling snow. Knowing it was probably the last time he would ever lay eyes on her, he watched until her tail lights were out of sight and for several minutes afterwards. Telling himself it was the bitter wind making his eyes water and his nose run, he refused to acknowledge the tightness in his chest, or the way his throat had closed up. He headed toward his rental car. Before he reached the driver's door, the snow turned into rain.