11

It was one of the rare weekends Angela had planned to spend in Fairfield instead of New York. The weather forecast had predicted heavy thunderstorms and she didn't like to be in her apartment all alone up high in the 55th floor of an entirely glazed apartment building. She had always been a bit afraid of thunder and lightning and wasn't keen on viewing it through a huge living room window up high above the streets. Usually she loved the view of the vibrant city at her feet; but not in this case. She was looking forward to sitting at the fireplace with a hot cup of tea, a blanket and some solid brick walls around her. She opened the front door of 3344 Oak Hills Drive and stepped into the dark and silent house. It had never been like this while Tony was living there. In former times, a delicious smell from the kitchen and a nicely laid dinner table had greeted her; or the kids had been running around the house. Some nights Mona had rushed through the living room on her way to a date, showing her rig-out which had almost always been gorgeous and saucy. To put it shortly, the house had been full of life and warmth. Now it looked dark, quiet and cold and was much too big for just one person. But she didn't want to sell it. She connected so many memories to this house, memories that were very precious to her.

Angela sighed, pulled the key out of the lock and turned on the light. She put her briefcase on the little bench at the door and hung her wet coat up at the rack. It had already begun to rain and she was happy to be home. Before she lit the fire in the chimney she wanted to take a hot bath and change into comfortable clothes. She found a short note from her current housekeeper on the table - 'Laundry done, windows cleaned, fridge wiped, Barbara' - damn, nothing in the fridge! Well, she would look for some crackers and a glass of red wine. Barbara was a woman in her mid-fifties and had been working as Angela's housekeeper for the last three years. She was a very reliable and trustworthy person who came twice a week to look after the house and all the necessary errands. Angela wasn't in need of a live-in housekeeper with a 24/7 service anymore. And after Tony had left she couldn't imagine anyone else living in his room anyway.

After her relaxing bath she put on some comfy, warm clothes and went down the stairs. She started the fire and headed to the kitchen. The hinges of the swinging door were squeaking; she made a mental note to tell Barbara to grease them. She filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove, then scanned the cabinets for some tea bags. She didn't care too much about the kind but took the first she found. 'Fennel, never mind. As long as it's hot.' The kettle started whistling. Angela poured the boiling water into a mug and rifled through all the stocks of food until she found a box of salty crackers. She opened a bottle of red wine, took one of the crystal glasses she had gotten for her wedding and went into the living room. Another sigh. How many nights had she spent cuddling up with Tony on the couch with a good glass of wine, watching an old movie? Nobody to keep her company tonight; but well, she had become used to it. She steered towards the book shelf to look for some kind of light good read, a love novel maybe, something to warm her heart. Then her eye fell on Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. She loved that novel and had already read it at least ten times. That was the perfect book for a lonely night by the fireplace. She wrapped herself in a blanket, poured a glass of wine, nibbled some crackers and started to read her most favorite book.

The fire had almost died and Angela had fallen asleep in the huge armchair, cuddled into the blanket, the open book on her lap. She had read almost half of it and had enjoyed it like all the times before, but after quite some time she just hadn't been able to keep her eyelids open anymore. It had started to rain heavily with frequent lightning, all unnoticed by sleeping Angela. Suddenly she woke with a start. What was that? She always was a bit scared to be alone in that big house, something she got used to after Tony had moved out. 'A knock?' she thought, 'a knock at the door? At this time? In this weather?' Now she really was scared. Damn, why did she have to come out here? Another thunder unloaded its energy, followed very shortly by lightning. This thunderstorm was very close! Angela gathered all her courage, got up from the armchair and approached the door. Another knock and it sounded very urgent. Maybe someone whose car had broken down? She hesitantly opened the door. Just a tiny crack. She peeked through it and at the sight of the person in front of her, she instantly froze.

"Tony?" she said in disbelief. The person on her porch didn't say a word, it just stood there, all wet from the heavy rain. Drops were dripping from his nose, he had sagging shoulders and a bent back. But it was his eyes which alarmed her the most. They were dark and empty and they looked at her hopelessly. A glaring lightning struck down and lit the entire neighborhood, followed by a deafening thunder, but Tony didn't even seem to hear it. Like if he were in another hemisphere. She dragged him inside.

"What happened to you? You're soaking wet!"

No word from him. No movement. Nothing.

Angela didn't know that Tony had been standing outside on the porch for almost twenty minutes until he managed to knock on her door. He would have to come back to what she had said the last time they saw each other - "I'm always here when you need me." - and boy, did he need her! He hated it to take advantage of her like this but he didn't know where else to go. So after twenty minutes of struggling with himself he had finally made himself heard. He didn't know how lucky he was to have found Angela there. She was in Fairfield only because of the predicted thunderstorm. Had the weather been nicer, there wouldn't have been anybody answering the door.

"I'll get you some towels. I'll be right back, wait here." The last sentence was superfluous, because after she had jumped up the stairs and back down with some towels in her hand, he was standing on the very same spot where she had left him, only with a puddle forming at his feet. "Here, we dry you off a little." She put one towel around his shoulders and another one on his head, drying his hair as if he was a five-year-old after a bubble bath. "You should get out of these wet clothes but I have nothing you could change into." Jonathan had moved with his entire stuff to study at Harvard after his graduation from high school, she had only a few of her leisure pieces left there, all the business clothes were at her New York apartment, and - needless to say - there weren't any other man's clothes in her house.

"Don't bother. I'm fine", he said in a raw and hoarse voice.

"Well, you don't look fine! Here, I put another log on the fire, you have a seat in the armchair and I make us both a cup of tea."

As Tony didn't start to move she gently pushed him. "Sit down! The fire and the tea will warm you and then you're going to tell me what brought you here. Got me?" She couldn't remember when she was last being so resolute with somebody other than one of her office staff. She went into the kitchen still bewildered about the turn of the evening. Why did he show up at her door step? And why was he in that incoherent state? She threw a tea bag in each mug, filled it with hot water and pushed open the swinging door with her right hip. She paused in the door frame and looked at him. He was sitting motionlessly in the armchair, the towel was still draped around his shoulders and he stared into the void, his features frozen. Angela knew something terrible must have happened to put him in a state like this.

"I only have fennel tea, I'm sorry." She handed him a cup.

"Never mind." Tony took the cup from her hand but didn't drink. He hadn't looked at her once and his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere but not in this room.

"Tony? ... Tony! What is the matter with you? What brought you here?"

Still no word from him.

"Talk to me!"

"Lynnie", he managed to say.

Angela was startled about his powerless and weak voice, not more than a whisper.

"What's the matter with Lynnie?" she probed.

"She fell off a tree. Yesterday afternoon. I took her to the forest. She loves the forest. And she loves to climb trees. She's very good at it, Angela! Like a cat. She climbed higher and higher. 'Look at me Daddy', she shouted from up high, 'can you still see me?' And then she stepped on that rotten branch and fell. All the way. I tried to catch her but I wasn't fast enough." At the end of his monotonous report his voice cracked. He buried his head in his hands and cried. Angela sat on the armrest, put her arm around his shoulders and tried to calm him a bit. She hadn't seen him cry before.

"How bad is it?"

"Very bad. She broke her back. She's in the hospital. It's not life threatening, thank God, but she's paralyzed from her chest down to her feet."

"Oh my God, Tony. That's horrible! How's Kathleen taking it?" Even though she didn't like her, she felt a deep compassion with her. Being a mother herself Angela could anticipate the torture she must be going through.

"She says it's all my fault. I should've never let her climb that tree. But she loves to climb trees! What was I supposed to do? Nail her to the ground? I told her to hold on but she let go to pick an apple." The horror of the sight of his little whirlwind falling through the branches of the tree could be read from his face.

"She rebuked you? Well, she should've known better. You're the most responsible and protective father I've ever seen."

"But she's right. If I hadn't taken Lynnie to the forest but to the zoo as Kathleen had asked me to, then none of this would've happened!" Tony was inconsolable.

"It was an accident, for heaven's sake. Tony, you can't always protect the people you love. It's terrible what happened to your daughter but it was not - your - fault!" She shook him to make him understand. The blame he put on himself was hard to bear. "So, how can I help?" She knew he hadn't come all this way just for comfort. There had to be something she and only she could do, otherwise he would have tried to make it through that crisis without her. And she already had an inkling. "Do you need money for a special treatment?"

He lifted his head and looked at her for the first time. How come she knew? He hated himself for turning to her for money. If he had seen any other possibility to gather the immense amount the hospital billed them, he would've never appealed to her. He had treated her so badly in the end and had ruined everything that was between them. She had waited for him after their talk in Jamaica and had relied on him and he had betrayed her. And now she was offering him money for the medical treatment of the girl he had with the woman he had betrayed her with. He had been expecting some kind of dissent, of reproaches, such as how he could dare to drop by after four years of silence and ask for money. But he should have known better. He should have known she had a big, giving heart and always kept her promises.

"The doctor said her chances would be a lot better if she got this special medication and newly developed treatment. It's very expensive and our insurance won't cover it", he explained.

"How much do you need?" Angela asked matter-of-factly. This rather reminded her of a business negotiation she was having regularly than of a reunion among long lost friends. But she had always been unemotional about money. Maybe because she never lacked it, or other things were far more important to her - like friendship. She earned a lot of money and she spent it. Her mother was a beneficiary of that attitude of hers, billing the majority of her shopping trips on Angela's credit card. But Angela didn't mind. 'What's the use of earning all that money when you're not giving pleasure with it.' That was her credo. 'I don't want to be the richest person on the cemetery someday.'

Tony swallowed his embarrassment and whispered "Fifteen thousand." It could have been fifty thousand or five million - it was an amount he could never procure, although he would sell his soul for his daughter if necessary. But it wasn't necessary because he had Angela. She was his rescuing angel.

"You're positive that's all you need?" Angela wanted to make sure Tony told her the full amount. She was well aware of how difficult this must have been for him.

"Yes."

"Okay. I get my cheque book." She took a little booklet and a pen out of her purse, signed a cheque and handed it to him.

"Uh, Angela, you forgot to put the amount in." He gave the piece of paper back to her.

"No, I didn't forget. You put in the amount you need. Maybe they'll come up with another special thing. Like this you're on the safe side financially."

Tony was overwhelmed about the trust Angela was showing him with this act of friendship. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Just take it and make your little daughter feel better."

"I pay it back, Angela, with interest. I promise!"

"Whenever you're able to, but no interest. I don't want to earn money because of your daughter's accident." She knew she had to leave him this little rest of dignity, allowing him to pay off his debts.

"Thank you, Angela. Thank you very much. I'll never be able to make this up to you", he said downheartedly.

"We'll see." She was still hoping they would be able to officially resume their friendship someday.

There was a short silence between them, neither of them knew what to say. A log crackled in the chimney, the thunderstorm was still howling outside. "Tony, you can't possibly drive home tonight. There might be some floodings on the street. It's raining in torrents. Why don't you stay over until tomorrow morning? All I can offer you is the couch. Your room ... uh ... former room is all cleared out." She sighed. This house definitely wasn't hospitable anymore. "But it will be better and safer than spending the night in your car somewhere on the road." Tony was so exhausted from worrying about his little girl for the past 30 hours that he couldn't gather enough energy to contradict her. So he let her lead him to the couch. Angela arranged the pillows to make him comfortable, pulled off his shoes and spread a blanket over his body.

"I'll get you another cup of tea." With that she went back into the kitchen and looked for some other kind than fennel. In the rearmost corner of the cabinet she found a box with one remaining tea bag of English Breakfast Tea. 'Oh, what the heck?' she thought, 'better than this disgusting fennel tea anyway.' With a cup of hot tea she returned to the living room and found Tony already fast asleep on the couch. As soon as his head had touched the pillow, he had drifted off. After almost two days of constant shock, despair, agony and worries the slight hope, which was building up inside of him because of Angela's financial generosity as well as her emotional compassion, had been so relaxing he didn't even bother what his wife would say if she ever found out where he'd spent the night. Angela sat down in the armchair opposite the couch and watched him, the hot tea cup still in her hand. She began to cry. She cried about Lynnie who was so badly injured. She cried about Tony who felt so guilty about his daughter's accident. And she cried about herself who had lost that wonderful man as a constant companion in her life.

The next morning, when Angela woke up, the thunderstorm was gone. The sun was shining again through some scattered clouds, the air was fresh and even the birds were singing. Angela jumped out of the bed, put her pink bathrobe on, one of the few things she hadn't moved to her apartment in the city, and scooted downstairs to take care for her over-night guest. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she found the couch abandoned and assumed Tony was in the kitchen. While striding through the living room towards the kitchen door she shouted, "Tony, there's nothing eatable in there. I treat you a quick breakfast in the coffee shop down the str- ." She had almost finished her sentence when she reached the kitchen ... but it was empty. It felt just like the first morning after Tony had moved out. The same gleeful anticipation to see him upon entering, the same disappointment after realizing he wasn't there. She turned around and went back into the living room. Now she saw the little piece of paper on the couch table. 'So grateful. Thank you. T.' Sure he wanted to get back as soon as possible. What was she thinking? That they would have a cozy breakfast together? 'Accept that he's out of your life, you silly cow!' she scolded herself. He had put his priorities elsewhere and had only come to her because he was desperate. The sooner she understood that, the better for her.

She rushed upstairs, took a quick shower, put on her business clothes and got herself ready for another day as founder and president of the Bower Agency. She switched off every light in the house and locked the front door behind her. Because of the persisting ache this evening left in her heart, it would take quite some time until her next stay in this house. The closer she approached New York City and the farer behind she left Fairfield, the more relieved she felt. Her self-confidence and self-esteem returned and she felt strong again. Everybody who saw her now would think of her as an independent and powerful woman, and not of this vulnerable and self-conscious picture of misery she had been last night.

And from now on she would restart her life without him, just as he had done more than four years ago.

At the same time, Tony was on his way back to the hospital, driving his car on a detour because of the floodings last night's thunderstorm had caused. Angela had been right, driving back last night would have been impossible. He had had a restless sleep. Because of the fear for his little girl but also because this woman was still confusing him. Their four-year separation hadn't changed anything about it. The openness and compassion with which she had let him into her house had deeply ashamed him. She had issued him a blank cheque! This piece of paper, which could mean total cure for Lynnie, felt like a band-aid on the cut he was having ever since he had left Fairfield four years ago. She didn't resent him after all, she had shown him her unconditional friendship once again and now it definitely was his turn. He would have to do something for her in return. But he wasn't able to think about it right now, Lynnie was his main concern. But as soon as she was alright again, he would begin to rebuild his relationship to Angela which was still as precious to him as it had always been. Never had his wife stood by him so unconditionally and supportively as Angela had last night, which had made one thing totally clear to him, one thing he had been racking his brain about a lot lately.

He had married the wrong woman.