Jonathan was nervous and excited at the same time. He was going to Brooklyn! Sam had made it sound so great that he begged to go with her when she ran away. He wasn't running away. He liked home, except for Mrs. Hiller. But he thought it would be fun to spend the night in Sam's old neighborhood.

He would never have known how to get there on his own. The most he'd ever done was take the school bus when Mom or Tony couldn't drive him. (Mrs. Hiller never would, but that was OK.) Sam knew all the trains and buses they needed to take.

Jonathan wanted to leave a note, but Sam said she didn't want Mrs. Bower (Mom) or Mrs. Hiller (witch) coming after her.

"How long are we going away for?"

"Me? Forever. You can go back in the morning if you want."
Jonathan wondered if he'd ruin his chances for the Punctuality Award. There were only a few weeks left of second grade and he had a perfect record so far. Well, this was more exciting than punctuality.

Sam tried to talk him out of going. She even tried to push him off the train before it was going, but then she grabbed him before he could fall.

And when they got to Brooklyn, she said, "I should just ditch you and let you find your way home, but you wanna play some stickball?"

"Yeah!" he yelled, even though he didn't know how to play. She was nice about teaching him. And when her friends called him a runt, she stuck up for him. He thought she might get in another fight, but she didn't. That was just how people talked in Brooklyn. Well, sometimes they fought, too.

She introduced him to Mrs. Rossini, who scolded them but hugged them and made them a delicious dinner. She wanted them to call home but Sam said that Mrs. Bower wouldn't be there. Jonathan didn't say that Mom had told him she'd be gone for only an hour or so. She was probably back by now. He hoped she wasn't worrying. Maybe he'd call later, after Sam went to sleep, just to let her know he'd be coming home tomorrow and she shouldn't worry.

After dinner, they watched TV. It was Wednesday, so Joe Rossini and Joe, Sr. wanted to watch The Fall Guy.

Joe, Jr. went over at Marty's Melody Room, which Jonathan thought was for singing, but Sam said it was just a bar. Joe, Jr. came back a few minutes later and said, "Hey, Sam, your old man's in town."
"Did you rat me out?" Sam asked.

"Nah, but I think you'd better go over and talk to him."
"They let kids go to bars?" Wow, Brooklyn was even tougher than Jonathan thought!

"Not unaccompanied by an adult," Joe said.

"You want me to go with her?" Joe, Jr. asked.

"I'll go," Mrs. Rossini said.

"Can I go, too?" Jonathan asked. "Please."
"OK," Sam said, "but you're picking up the tab. Kidding!" she added when Mrs. Rossini glared at her.

So Jonathan, Sam, and Mrs. Rossini went to Marty's Melody Room, where they found not only Tony but Jonathan's mom. And she was fighting with a waitress! Not just yelling, but rolling around on the floor and hitting. Tony and another man were trying to pull them apart.

Sam grinned and said, "Hello, Mrs. Bower."

Jonathan just stood there speechless.

...

Grant was trying to be patient with this situation. He'd known this wouldn't be as easy as the relationships he was used to. It wasn't just that they worked for the same agency, that she was his employee. It was also that she was a mother of a young boy and she was legally separated from a man who was absent most of the time anyway. And now this weird set-up where she was renting a room to the daughter of a deodorant pitchman. And the athlete would be moving into Angela's garage apartment at some future date, maybe that summer, maybe not till fall, depending on the remodeling. And Grant knew, from having his upstate house redone, that that always took longer than planned.

It was very hard for Grant to be patient that evening. He'd given in and agreed to just dinner, and in Fairfield, since she was having some disciplinary problems with the tenant's little girl. They had a pleasant dinner, discussing the insurance company account and less business-like matters. They were just about to order dessert, when she got a call from her housekeeper. Both the little girl and Angela's son had disappeared! Grant knew that the housekeeper wasn't great, but how could she lose two children? And they must've taken off after Angela left with Grant. Instead of being contrite, it sounded like the housekeeper was mostly annoyed that she was herself being inconvenienced.

"She actually said, 'Now no one is home to eat the dinner I slaved over.' "

"Angela, why don't you just fire her?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm afraid I'll get somebody worse."

"Is that possible?"

Angela shook her head. "Never mind that. What am I going to do about the kids?"

Grant didn't want to seem unsympathetic. He could see how upset she was. But he didn't like being dragged into this.

"Well, how far could they have run away? It's not like Sam is old enough to drive, right?"

"No, but she knows the buses and trains— Oh, Grant, what if they went to New York?"

"You're kidding, right?"
"No, maybe Sam is homesick for Brooklyn."
"Why?" He couldn't imagine anyone choosing to live there.

"It's her home. Or it was."

"Yeah, but why take Jonathan with her?"
"I don't know. Oh, I wish I knew the names and numbers of the people the Micellis know down there."

"I guess you're just going to have to go down there yourself," he joked.

But she took him seriously. And the next thing he knew he was paying the check and tipping everyone, including the dessert waiter, and then he was driving Angela to Brooklyn. At least the traffic wasn't bad in that direction. Yes, he could've let her make her own way to New York, but she was upset and he was her boyfriend and it seemed like something he was supposed to do. He just hoped she'd show her gratitude later.

When they got to Brooklyn and to Tony's very run-down old neighborhood, he asked, "So where exactly are you expecting to find them?"

"I'm not sure. But there's a family who used to look after Sam when Tony was on the road. Rosano or something like that."

"Great, we'll just knock on every door and ask if they know a family named something like 'Rosano.' "

"Oo, I've got an idea! There's Marty's Melody Room!"

"You want to do karaoke?"

"No, it's a bar, Tony's favorite bar."

Grant almost said, "Why am I not surprised?", but insulting Tony was counter-productive.

Angela continued, "I bet they know him and the Rose-whatevers there and can help us."

Grant was dubious about that, but he knew how determined Angela could be. And he couldn't let her go into a place like that alone. He parked the car in an alley, hoping his Benz would be safe for however long this took. Then he escorted her into the bar.

The first thing they saw in there was Tony flirting with a waitress in a miniskirt.

"I thought you said he was still on the road till tomorrow."
"I guess he got back early. Tony!"

Tony turned. "Angela, what are you doing here?"

"Boy, what a clingy landlady you got!" said the waitress.

"Easy, Theresa," Tony said.

"Tony, I wouldn't be here if it weren't an emergency."
The waitress put her hands on her hips. "Why, you too good for Marty's?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Yeah? What about explaining those shoulder pads? Are you a linebacker?"

"Angela, maybe we should go," Grant suggested.

"Not until I talk to Tony."
"You couldn't wait till he got back to your house with the white picket fence?"

"Will you please butt out?" Angela snapped at the waitress.

"Make me!"

And then, to Grant's disbelief, the two women got in a shoving match, which turned into a cat fight, pulling each other's hair and rolling around on the floor.

"This is kind of hot but we should probably break it up," Tony remarked to Grant, who agreed on both counts. So they pulled the two women apart, trying not to get hit themselves.

"Hello, Mrs. Bower."

Grant looked over and saw Angela's son standing in the doorway with an older girl and a middle-aged lady. The girl was apparently the one who had spoken, since she had a big grin and a nose that looked like it'd recently been punched.

There were a lot of explanations, over leftovers at Mrs. Rossinis' kitchen table. (The living/dining room was too noisy because Mrs. Rossinis' family was watching TV.) Grant felt very out of place but he didn't want to just abandon Angela in Brooklyn.

The Bowers and Micellis hashed things out and Sam promised not to fight anymore, while Angela promised to be more understanding. And Tony promised to be as involved as he could, despite being on the road so much.
"Will you come back to Fairfield tonight, Dad?"
"Uh, no, Sweetheart, I've got plans here in town." Jonathan was probably the only one at the table that didn't know that those plans probably involved Theresa, but no one said anything about that. Tony continued, "But I'll stay over Saturday night, after the game, till I have to head back on Sunday for that game."

Grant didn't like the sound of that. Angela had told him that Tony had slept on the couch before, but Grant had seen that Tony slept in only sweat pants. Not that Angela would be susceptible to a musclebound jock, but it did make Grant uncomfortable. Still, it wasn't like he and Angela were exclusive. And the children would be around, and the awful housekeeper this time, so probably that was enough chaperoning.

He couldn't help hoping that the remodeling of the garage apartment would go faster. Better to have Tony out of the main house if he had to be in Angela's neighborhood.

Grant drove Angela and the two kids back to her place. He got a goodnight kiss and thanks for all his help. He hoped he'd get more of a reward later.

...

Author's Note: It looks like karaoke didn't come to the US till the '90s. Oh, well, this is an alternative reality. ;-)