Two weeks ago, I chilled the champagne as I waited for Angela to come back from her interview with Sterling & Simpkin. They're even bigger than Wallace & McQuade, like tenth biggest in the country.

But when she came in, she said the job she got was head copywriter.

"Angela, this job is way beneath you. Why would you take it?" Yeah, I know what I said about the trailer park and cat food, but that doesn't mean she should settle for a job that's not much better than what she got fresh out of college.

"Because it's all I could get."

"That's not true."
"Tony, what do you want me to do? Start my own agency?"

I grinned. "Now you're talkin'."

"Don't be naive. You don't just start your own agency."
"Look, Angie, I think you can do anything."

"Tony, your faith in me is very sweet, but that would be a lot to take on."
"Hey, think of all the energy you wasted dealing with the jerks at Wallace & McQuade. What if you used that same energy to build your own business?"

She had a bunch of arguments, but I had counter-arguments for all of them. And I could see that this was something she wanted to do, but she was just scared. Which I understand. Our future is uncertain anyway, but maybe this is all a sign to try something new.

OK, me enrolling in college isn't as big a risk, financially or otherwise, but it is a change, one I'm nervous about. I had a really hard time coming up with my personal statement to submit for the application. I ended up talking about how I used to envy the guys getting on the bus to go to Brooklyn College, when I felt like my life was going nowhere. Then I thought I found my direction with baseball, but now that might be a dead end. So I'm trying a new, uncharted road. Angela loved what I wrote, and I guess Ridgemont liked it, too, since they accepted me.

I'm very excited about it. And I'm excited about Angela having her own business, even if she's going to call it the Bower Agency.

"I know it seems strange, considering how unhappy my marriage to Michael was, and how unsupportive of my career he was compared to you. But that is the last name I'm known by in the advertising world. And I'm going to need to build on that."

Nice as it would be to see "The Micelli Agency" on the engraved sign and business cards and everything, I understand. I'd rather she be a success as Ms. Bower than a failure as Mrs. Micelli. I mean, matrimonially she's a success as Mrs. Micelli, and that's all I need.

While Angela has been working on the financial side, getting the start-up loan and all that, Mona and I have been scouting out an office and furniture. And today I'm taking her to see it. (Mona had an overnight date with Pop, so she'll meet us in Manhattan.)

"It's weird to be back on the commuter train," Angela observes.
"Get used to it, Lady. You're going to be working 9 to 5 again."

She sighs. "And sometimes later. Tony, I may have to work even longer and harder, at least while the business is launched."

"It's like that with any 'baby.' A lot of work in the beginning, but it's all worth it." I don't say that this may put off our real baby. That was already a possibility with me going to college. We'll see how we feel on New Year's Eve I guess. And we said the '80s, so that's ten years of possible conception.

She squeezes my hand. "I know."

When we get to the building, I cover her eyes with my hand. I feel as excited as if this were a birthday surprise. The place is empty of course, since we can't actually move in the furniture until Angela approves of this suite. So it's a let-down for her, but I describe everything as I imagine it'll look.

"And over here, in the reception area, you'll have a knockout redhead for a secretary," I finish up.

"Oh, Mother, you'd do that for me?"

"Are you kidding? Dear, we'd kill each other in the first week."

"No, Angela, I asked your old secretary Rosie and she said she'd love to do it. She's miserable at Wallace & McQuade without you."
"Oh, poor Rosie. Yes, I'd love to have her work for me." She looks around and then at me. "You really think she's a knockout?"

"Well, not bad for a redhead."

Each woman hits one of my shoulders, although Angela's gentle with the one that's healing.

We'll pick up the furniture tomorrow in my van. Today we work on cleaning up and discussing what colors to decorate in. I'm glad the Cards can't hear this. But then, most of them don't know that I spent the off-season as a housekeeper. I wonder what they'd make of me going to college. My friends in the old neighborhood teased me about it when I told them, but they're mostly supportive.

"Just don't think you're better than us," Philly said. "And don't correct our grammar."

"I ain't gonna do that," I said.

Mona takes the train back with us, but spends most of the time napping. (I get the impression she didn't get much sleep last night, although I'm not going to ask.) Angela and I hold hands and talk in whispers.

"So have you decided on your classes?"
"Yeah, Speech, Philosophy, World History, and Art History."
"Sounds like a full load."

I shrug, which doesn't hurt anymore, although I'm still a little stiff after three months. "Twelve units."

"Are you sure you can do school and take on the housework again?"

I snap my fingers. "A mere bag o' shells."

"But what about looking after the children?"

"Well, first grade gets out later than kindergarten, so that'll help. And as for Jonathan, I was thinking of the campus daycare."

"Oh. Um, yes, I guess we can budget for that."

"It's OK, Angela, don't worry about it. I asked about hardship cases—"

"Tony, we live in Oak Hills. Even with no money coming in, I wouldn't exactly describe us as poor."

"No, yeah, I know. They looked at our last year's combined income, so no dice there. However, it's a co-op, which means that if I work there for the same number of hours that Jonathan stays, it's completely free."

"Well, that's wonderful of you to offer but—"

"I know what you're gonna say. They won't want a man working there."

"Tony, I would never say something like that. I know how hard it is to have a job that people tell you you're the wrong sex for. And I know how wonderful you are with children, not just ours but their little friends. No, I was just thinking, you're taking twelve units, right?"

"Yeah." I thought of going for the max, eighteen, but I decided to ease into it.

"That's twelve hours a week for classes. So that means that you'd have to work another twelve to cover Jonathan's daycare. And then you have to figure at least another twelve for homework, especially with such serious subjects. And on top of that, you'd be doing the housework. I just think that's too much for you to take on."

"Well, when you put it that way." I guess I was just thinking of the twelve hours of class. "But, no, it'll be fine. I can do housework and homework at the same time, sometimes. Like reading while I'm cooking."

She looks dubious but kisses my cheek. "Well, let me know what I can do to help."
I don't know that she can do all that much, when she's going to be busy launching her agency. But hopefully, it'll all work out. And maybe if enough money starts coming in, we can afford the daycare, or even hire another housekeeper. Especially if this is all going to take four or more years. Well, Jonathan will be in kindergarten in a couple years, so that'll make it easier.

"Hey, come on, we're a team."

I nod. I try not to think about the team I was on three months ago. Where are they all now? The guys hardly ever call or write anymore. I'm no longer one of them. When I watch their games on TV, it's like I'm just an ordinary fan.

But, yeah, it's different with Angela. We haven't been together that long. It's been less than a year since we met. But we've been through a lot. And we can count on each other. That means a lot. Not everybody has that, not even most of the other married couples I know. Like Angela's friend Isabel, whose husband Ben isn't crazy about her going to med school, even though they have a maid.

I bring Angela's hand to my lips and kiss it. "Thanks for recruiting me."