Chapter 10

Angela had been a nervous wreck on her flight to New York. She had left Iowa so hastily that she hadn't had enough time to even call her mother to pick her up at the airport. She had taken a cab all the way from La Guardia to Fairfield and still hadn't sorted out all her thoughts when she reached her house at 3344 Oak Hills Drive. When she had opened the door, Mona, who had been reading a Jackie Collins novel in the armchair in front of the fireplace, had been so startled that she had almost dropped the glass of wine she had been holding.

Being a mother plus having life-long experience when it came to love sickness, she had read from Angela's expression that something terrible had happened, and after being told the entire story, she commented on it in her very own, unique way of dealing with life's little dramas.

"Come on and join me for a glass of wine, ... Miss Robinson!" She winked at Angela and smiled mischievously, "I guess our last name makes us prey to younger lovers." She sighed in feigned distress. "Although, ... I've never seen it as a burden. I sure wouldn't push a vital, handsome, hunky college graduate out of my bed if he begged me to make love to him!" She grinned lustily.

"Mother! That's not helpful at all! We're not talking about some kind of Hollywood movie here but my life!" she chastised her. "What am I going to do?" Angela frantically rushed back and forth between the stairs and the sofa.

"You know what? That reminds me of the day I was sitting in the kitchen with Tony, after he had slept with Kathleen. He kinda felt the same way you do right now!"

"Yeah, well, we weren't a couple back then, so the situation was different. He didn't betray me in the literal sense of the word!"

"Granted, but neither did you! You didn't sleep with Timothy or are having an affair with him. All you did was letting him kiss you."

"And touch me."

"So what? So he touched your breast! There's not so much to touch anyway." Angela's grim look made Mona continue hastily. "I wouldn't call that betrayal. Timothy took advantage of you in a moment of weakness, and Tony himself isn't completely innocent either. He more or less pushed you into this boy's arms. He isn't stupid, Angela. He saw what was going on in front of his eyes. He was just too glad to see you entertained and taken care of because it eased his guilty conscience for having neglected you. So stop your self-flagellation and take it for what it is ... a warning sign for both of you. You can't go on like this, I think this much has become clear. I told you many weeks ago but you didn't want to listen. Now that the milk is spilt, take a cloth and wipe it up!"

Angela let that sink in for a moment. Then she said, "Maybe you're right, Mother."

"Of course I am!"

"But how am I going to explain all this to Tony?" Angela was desperate. "Oh, how I wish he would come for the ceremony. I would have it off the chest before that evening then."

"Angela, this will be your evening, whether Tony will be there or not! You worked almost 20 years for this, 20 hard years I might add. I want you to enjoy this and I'm going to help you!" She smiled in pleasant anticipation and rubbed her hands. "I will take you on a shopping tour through New York's most exclusive boutiques, I will type your speech, I will come to the Waldorf Astoria as your moral support, and ...", she paused shortly to lead her trump card, "I will hire you the most handsome escort there is. I want Tony to be green from envy when he sees the pictures of you in Adweek Magazine and the splendid young man at your side that I'm going to pick out for you. We are Robinsons after all and have a reputation to keep!"

Angela had to laugh now. Her mother's teasing could be annoying at times, but she also always knew how to raise her spirits.

"Thank you, Mother. What would I do without you?"

"Well, Dear, you wouldn't be born without me, so face it, you will always have to deal with me, whether you like it or not." She grinned, raised her glass, they clinked, and Angela, for the first time in hours, started to relax and looked forward to the upcoming Saturday evening.

The next few days were completely taken up by the preparations for the award ceremony, and they kept Angela distracted from the complicated situation her relationship to Tony was in. She needed a new dress, she spent a lot of time on her acceptance speech, and had to align her staff for the evening. This kept her emotions about Tony bottled up for most of the time but the closer the ceremony approached, the sadder and more miserable she became. They hadn't spoken at all since she had left Branford. Angela had hoped that Tony might call and ask her why she had gone to New York early, but he hadn't. Then again she was relieved that he hadn't called for she wouldn't know what to say to him.

The long-awaited night of the award ceremony had finally come and Angela had started getting dressed in the afternoon. They had to be at the Waldorf Astoria at 7pm but had to consider that traffic in downtown New York might be bustling. As awardee of the Outstanding Achievement Award Angela was a guest of honor and would be officially welcomed by the Association's president, Walter Atkinson, so she definitely didn't want to show up late. She was sitting in front of her vanity, her hair in a skillful up-do, her subtle make-up applied already, in an evening gown which had taken countless shopping trips to find. It was flame-red, figure-accentuating, floor-length with a little train and made of flowing, silky fabric with a plunging neckline which left her shoulders bare. When she had first tried it on, she had instantly felt like a movie star and hadn't hesitated even a second about buying it despite it being insanely expensive; but now even the dress couldn't raise her spirits. She was sitting in the middle of her bedroom downhearted and stared into the mirror. Her emotions were all mixed up; she was looking forward to the evening ahead of her but also dreaded it. She would receive the most important award her industry had to bestow but she would be on her own; Tony would be far away pursuing his own job. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and told herself, "your life's a mess, Angela", and sighed.

"No, it is not, Dear", Mona said from where she was standing in the door frame. She walked up to her until she stood right behind Angela. She put her hands on her shoulders and said, "You look fantastic, Angela. Tony will be so angry with himself when he has to accept that he missed seeing you in this dream dress!" She surveyed Angela's appearance from head to toe, then added, "just one more thing and it will be perfect." With this she laid a three-row pearl necklace around her daughter's neck and closed the clasp at the back.

Angela gasped, "The necklace Daddy gave you for your wedding?"

"He would be so proud of you", Mona smiled kindly, "with this necklace a part of him will be with you tonight."

"Thank you, Mother! Thanks for everything."

Mona was still standing behind Angela and looked into the mirror to meet her eyes. "Sweetheart, what's up with you? This is going to be your night tonight. You shouldn't let anything, ... or rather anybody spoil it."

"Easier said than done. Up to this morning, I hoped that Tony would come or at least call. Why didn't he call me, Mother? Doesn't he know that I'm waiting for him to call?"

"Well, Angela, you were the one who left unexpectedly. Imagine you come home, the house is empty and you only find a short note. Maybe he isn't sure about what you want him to do? Maybe he thinks you came to New York earlier because you wanted to be left alone? When you get back to Branford on Monday, you have to talk to him, Dear. Tell him that you cannot go on like this, and that you want to go back to work. I'm not sure whether he is completely aware of how unhappy you really are."

"I know, ... " Angela's voice was shaking.

"What are you so afraid of, Dear?"

"I'm afraid of losing him! I can't imagine my life without Tony, Mother."

"What makes you think you might lose him?" Mona asked blankly.

"That I'm not able to be the woman at his side, like he wants. I tried to be a housewife, I really did! I even learned how to cook, but ..." Angela hesitated.

"But what?" Mona insisted although she already knew the answer. Letting the opportunity go to make a joke about her cooking skills almost alarmed Mona; if she thought that teasing Angela was uncalled for right now, then she really must be in trouble.

"I don't want to be one. I'm not made for this kind of life ... having no other goal but taking the load up for my husband, cleaning up after him, ironing his shirts, cooking dinner, ... I couldn't be a wife like this for Michael and I obviously can't do it for Tony either", Angela concluded bitterly.

"I see."

Now that the dam had broken, everything lying heavily on Angela's mind for weeks just gushed out. "It doesn't satisfy me the way working at the agency does. Actually, it bores me to death. I need the challenge of my work, I need the pressure of a tight agenda, I need the sense of achievement when a client is happy with a campaign we've drafted. It took me while to find that out about myself but it's the truth, I have to accept it."

"And what's so bad about that, Angela?"

"That I went to Iowa to support Tony in the first place, that I wanted to return some of what Tony had given to me all these years. His career should have been the top priority and I wanted to step back with mine. Seems as if I'm not able to live up to my very own intentions." Angela was relentless concerning her own shortcomings. "Tony deserves a spouse who supports him unconditionally and not some selfish workaholic who turns into a bored, dissatisfied and nagging creature once out of her office environment", she uttered through clenched teeth.

"Now you're really being stupid! Tony chose to propose to you, and he knew you fairly well after so many years in this house before he did. He fell in love with you despite all your ... uhm, ... obnoxious idiosyncrasies." Mona flashed her a sugar sweet smile. "He loves you the way you are, Angela! He knew from the start that you're not a gifted, devoted housewife and would never be one. That might even be a personal trait he particularly likes about you. Have you ever tried to see it this way?"

Angela only shrugged her shoulders, and was more confused than ever.

"Do I have to remind you that you were the one who pushed him into accepting this job offer?" Mona went on, "Tony didn't want to go because he didn't want to force a way of life on you that you're not made for. Maybe you wanted to see yourself morph from business woman into housewife even more than he did, but things won't develop the way you want them to just because you're using the sledgehammer method, Angela. A tiger will never turn into a pussy cat, no matter how badly you want it to."

Mona could see that her words had unsettled Angela and that wasn't exactly the inital effect she had intended to evoke when she had come to her daughter's bedroom with the pearl necklace in hand, so she tried to calm the waves again by showing her a way out.

"Be that as it may, Angela, Tony loves you and I'm sure he won't give up so easily. If the two of you have an honest talk, you'll work something out. If Tony had wanted a dull housewife as a fiancée, he would've never chosen you ... because that's not what you are, and he knows."

"Do you really think so, Mother?"

"Yes, I do!" Mona wanted to put an end to this for there wasn't a solution to the dilemma at the moment anyway. "Okay then, that's enough of a therapy session for today. If you don't stop frowning like this right now, you'll look like a fifty-year old spinster on the press photos, despite your nice makeup and that gorgeous dress. Come on, let's show these fossils of the Advertising Association that a long-legged blonde can do far more than just be nice to look at."

"I guess you're right!" Angela nodded to her mother's reflection in the mirror.

"You bet I'm right!"

Angela stood up, straightened her back, took a deep breath and checked her appearance one last time in the mirror. Then she smiled at her reflection, gave her mother one more nod, linked arms with her and said, "Let's go!"

Everything had worked out fine. Mona had rented a limo which had taken them right on time to the Waldorf Astoria. They even had a glass of champagne on their way, which had eased Angela's mind a bit and had helped her to put away all the bleak thoughts, at least for a short time. Upon their arrival, Angela was officially welcomed by the honorable long-time president of the Advertising Association, who embraced her cheerfully and ushered her to her table.

Angela enjoyed the event. She met a lot of fellow ad execs, among them some former colleagues from Wallace & McQuade. The grim face of Jim Peterson, her successor as president of the agency she had once worked for, made her rejoice inwardly. It had to be hard for him to watch his long-term rival receiving this prestigious award. She'd overtaken him with the presidency at Wallace & McQuade, she'd overtaken him with more than one campaign pitch with her own agency, and she'd again overtaken him with this award. It gave her a feeling of satisfaction and self-esteem like she had missed during all her time in Iowa. She felt as if she'd come home. This circle of people was like a family to her; they spoke the same language, they shared the same interests, and they aspired toward the same goals. During her extensive small-talk she was surprised by how many people asked her where she had been or told her they had missed her. She wouldn't have thought that her absence would be noticed this much by her business community.

After the small-talk and getting-together part of the evening, the award presentation began. The Association honored a lot of people from the advertising industry for various achievements, so the ceremony lasted for more than three hours. Because the Outstanding Achievement Award was supposed to be the highlight of the banquet, The Bower Agency was the last recipient of the evening, which meant that Angela, as well as her staff, had to suppress their excitement and exercise patience. Then, finally, Walter Atkinson, the Association's president for as long as Angela could remember, took the few steps up to the little stage. It was his privilege to present the last award and give the laudatory speech to its awardee.

Angela listened to what the grey-haired man, one of the old-hand advertising gurus of the country, told the audience about her agency and herself. She almost couldn't believe her ears for Walter spoke so highly of her that she first thought he spoke of somebody else and she had been mistaken with some other ad exec and invited only by accident. But then, at some point he beckoned her over to join him on the stage and concluded his speech with the words, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome one of the most talented advertising executives I've ever met and this year's recipient of the Outstanding Achievement Award, Angela Bower." With these words he started to clap his hands enthusiastically and smiled broadly.

Joy and pride were the only sentiments which occupied Angela's body. At this very moment, she had managed to bury the ingrained sadness for Tony not being there far down somewhere in her conscience; this was her night and she was going to enjoy it! As she approached the stand on the stage, Walter shook her hand and said, "Congratulations, Angela. Truly deserved. America and the Philology Association thank you for your wonderful campaign and the effect it has on our youth." He kissed her on both cheeks and handed her the statue. He motioned her to approach the microphone, "Please."

Angela straightened her back. She was an experienced speaker and wasn't nervous. Speaking in front of large audiences didn't frighten her but pushed her to be at her best; she had aura, she had charisma, she had a strong voice and she knew how to emphasize her feminine charms as well; the dress she wore surely fulfilled that purpose. She was standing on the stage, with the statue in hand, smiling enchantingly until the applause slowly died away. Everyone in the room was related to the advertising industry in one way or the other, and literally everyone had come across the campaign that The Bower Agency was honored for. It had been talked of for weeks on Madison Avenue. Moreover, Angela was a well-known and well-respected member of the advertising community, so everyone was happy for her and showed it with enthusiastic applause; Jim Peterson was the only one who quarreled with the Association's decision but even he had to admit that Angela was a worthy recipient for this particular award.

"Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen", she began her speech, "for your kind applause. Thank you to the American Association of Advertising for this award. I would be lying if I told you that this is no big deal for me. It is! I've dreamed of this particular award since I first started to work as a copywriter for Sky Advertising many, many years ago. When I became president of Wallace & McQuade, I thought I had reached the top rung of the career ladder. Well, ... most of you know that I didn't spend too much time up there." Angela's last remark incited some laughter in the audience - Jim Peterson could be heard in particular - for most of the people knew about the 8-million-dollar toilet paper account which had been sunk under her supervision. "Founding The Bower Agency has been the biggest adventure of my life, and the most satisfying. Times were rough at the beginning, but with the support of my family and my devoted staff we managed to pull through. And now this!" She raised the award and looked at it. "This is the reward for many hours of dedicated work to an honorable cause. When the Philology Association came to us to talk about a campaign to promote reading among teenagers, I was absolutely thrilled. Being a bookworm myself, I had it already outlined by the time the first briefing was over. Needless to say, that I didn't do that on my own but together with my creative, talented and hard-working staff."

Angela looked around the audience, trying to spot some of her staff members. "First of all my wonderful art director Peter ..."

She suddenly paused in the middle of the sentence, not because she was surprised to make out Peter Jennings in the crowd, her long-term AD, but because of the man who was standing a few yards behind him, in the rearmost corner of the ballroom. Her heart jumped for joy. It really was him! Tony! He was leaning against the wall, dressed in a tuxedo, his left hand in the pocket of his pants, the right he put to his heart the moment their eyes met. Angela couldn't help but smile the broadest smile, her heart had begun to pound against her ribcage. He hadn't let her down! He had chosen to leave his team alone and to come to New York! All the tension that had built up since she had fled from their apartment after having kissed Timothy, fell off of her in an instant. She felt uplifted, cheery and incredibly relieved.

"Everything alright, Angela?" the Association's president, who was still joining her on the stage, asked her preoccupied, "aren't you feeling well?" He laid his hand on her back because he was a bit worried she might faint.

Angela cleared her throat. "Uhm, ... no, Walter, I'm okay! I'm feeling better than ever actually", she murmured to him, then continued to address the audience, "Sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen, for the short interruption. I guess I'm easier to baffle than I thought." She once again smiled, then she took a deep breath and went on with her speech. It wasn't so easy to memorize the words she had prepared because her thoughts kept drifting away from advertising to the man in the tuxedo at the back of the room. 'Come on, Angela! Pull yourself together and bring this to a professional close', she silently urged herself. "Where was I? ... Ah, yes, special thanks to my wonderful art director Peter Jennings, who's been working with me for almost two years now. He was the one in charge of this campaign and without his committed work, it would've never come out so perfectly. And I mustn't forget Jack Ballantine of course, my vice-president who's been with The Bower Agency since almost day one; he was my first employee in fact. Well, I have to say, first employee who wasn't a family member."

"Thanks for setting that right, Blondie!" was shouted from the direction where Mona was sitting. The entire audience burst out into laughter.

"Thank you, Mother, for showing me the respect I deserve for being your boss!" More laughter. Years of practice had made Angela a good enough wit to provide a good retort to her mother's unrehearsed punch line.

Angela was almost through with her speech. After thanking her staff she had actually planned to make a short closing remark before leaving the stage but Tony's unexpected attendance made her add a few more impromptu words.

"Before I leave and let you all enjoy the extraordinary buffet, I would like to use the opportunity to thank someone I'm delighted to see here tonight." Angela's voice suddenly wasn't as strong and self-confident any more but started to shake a bit. She cleared her throat and looked at Tony. Although he was standing about 25 yards away, they locked eyes. "This person is very special to me. Without him, The Bower Agency wouldn't even exist. During my most difficult time as an ad exec, he backed me up and gave me credit for establishing my own agency. And ever since that day, he has encouraged me, supported me, celebrated with me, and comforted me when necessary. I could always count on him. He not only made my life easier but also a lot happier. Thank you, Tony, for being there for me whenever I needed you. I would be nothing without you. And ... thank you so much for coming tonight." With the last words, her voice broke.

The entire audience had fallen silent for a short moment because of Angela's emotional and heartwarming speech; but Tony was not only silent, he was petrified. The people standing around him looked at him for it was obvious that he was the person being addressed. Someone even patted him on the shoulder. Tony kept staring at Angela; he watched her picking up the short train of her gorgeous red evening gown, linking arms with the grey-haired man on the stage, taking the little staircase down into the audience, accepting handshakes, embraces and kisses on the cheek from many people; one elderly gentleman even bowed in front of her and kissed her hand. Microphones were held under her nose and flashlights illuminated her face.

Tony could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He had expected her to be pleased by his presence but not to be mentioned in her acceptance speech, above all not lauded with such personal and sentimental words. He noticed that Angela tried to thread her way through to him but was stopped every few feet by someone else who wanted to congratulate her. Every now and then they managed to establish eye contact for a few seconds but then another person engaged her in a conversation or pulled her into an embrace. It took her almost 20 minutes to reach the spot Tony had been glued to since he first got there.

They stood in front of each other, speechless for a moment. None of them was aware of all the other people surrounding them any more, some observing them, and trying to find out what the heartfelt words of the awardee had been about. Angela was the first who was able to speak, even if only fragmentarily.

"Tony!" She beamed at him. "Hi."

"Hi Angela."

"When did you get here?"

"I arrived just in time to hear this older gentleman heap praise on you." Tony knew she was good in what she did, but he hadn't been aware that she was so deeply respected within her business community.

"Oh."

"I was sitting on the coach's bench at Hawkeye Stadium in Des Moines", he went on recounting the course of events of his day, "when suddenly I felt the irresistible urge to use that airline ticket you had left on the table before you went to New York. I rushed directly to the airport and just made it in time to board the plane. The flight was delayed and traffic between Newark and the city was insane, so I arrived here at the very last moment."

"You went to a baseball game in a tuxedo?" Angela asked surprised.

Tony chuckled. "No, of course not! There's a men's clothier at the airport with a surprisingly abundant stock. I think I heard my credit card moan when the sales clerk slid it through", he sighed. He hadn't had the time nor the nerves to bargain with the clerk or to try to find a cheaper solution. He had boarded the flight in his dusty baseball attire. The sales clerk had screwed up his nose at first when Tony had entered the exclusive store but had relaxed and shown him a huge smile when Tony had shouted, 'I need a tux, quick! Don't care about the price, just robe me, okay!'

"I see," Angela stammered, "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you."

"Oh, actually, you already did, Angela! And you not only told me but a few other people as well." He grinned and looked around the ballroom.

Angela blushed. Only now did she once again become aware of all the other guests.

"Right, ... uhm, maybe we should continue this later entre nous. I'm afraid there are a couple of journalists waiting for me right now; but if you invite me for a drink at the bar later, I might even give you my room number", she whispered with a seductive ring to her voice and raised an eyebrow.

"Ahhh, that's good, Angela", he replied, then added low-keyed and equally suggestive, "because I haven't had the time to make hotel arrangements, ... uh, nor to pack some pyjamas", he whispered breathlessly into her ear.

He looked deeply into her eyes and Angela swallowed hard. The chemistry between them was palpable and although none of the bystanders had overheard the last words, everyone could tell that these two shared a very intimate moment.

Mona was standing at the opposite side of the ballroom and had watched the entire scene from afar. She didn't need to be close to literally see the sparks flying between Tony and Angela. She let out a deep sigh of relief. "You made the right decision to come here, Buddy. Late, but better late than never", she said to herself and smiled contentedly.