I feel kind of self-conscious walking in to the Parents' Association meeting, more than I did last month. Not that there wasn't gossip about me and Angela back then, but I was just Angela's "hunky housekeeper," which wasn't a bad thing. Now I'm her fiancé and we're no longer pretending there's nothing going on. I don't think it'll get any easier after the show wedding, but it's got to die down sometime.

I'm really glad she came with me, to show support, even though of course the gossip is even tougher on her, as the woman. Plus, I'm new to the neighborhood. This has been her home for years.

The worst part is that that bitch Joanne Parker is President of the Association. I did make Sam apologize to Dwight, but apparently he didn't apologize for provoking the fight by saying her daddy is doing bad stuff with my boss. And I know Joanne will never apologize.

We find seats by Wendy Wittener. Mrs. Wittener, or Wendy as she wants me to call her, now that I'm a fiancé as well as a housekeeper, is all right. Yeah, she's got a crush on me but she seems harmless. Even the dreaded Diane Wilmington just ogles me from afar, but then Angela staked out her territory early on.

No, I don't mind being Angie's "territory." You kiddin' me? She's mine, too. I mean, not that we "own" each other. But we belong to each other, you know? I feel that way even more since Charleston.

We are staying out of each other's beds. Only another week to wait. We can do that.

I know a few other people in the room, especially the ones with kids Sam's age. There's Mrs. Ferguson. I know her husband usually doesn't go, too busy as a doctor. Not that Angela isn't busy, but she made time for this.

"Well, I guess we have a quorum," Mrs. Parker says and taps her gavel on the table.

She has the secretary, Mrs. Seaver, read back the minutes from last week and then she asks if there's any new business.

Angela starts to raise her hand, but Mrs. Seaver says, "Actually, I have an announcement to make. Jason, the kids, and I are moving to Long Island."

Well, that of course causes a sensation. I know the Seavers a little, in the way that everyone knows everyone at least a little in Fairfield. She was a newspaper reporter until she had her last kid. Mr. Seaver is a psychiatrist. Their son Mike is 8 and their daughter Carol is 7. (She's a year or two ahead of Sam in school.) And then their youngest, Ben, is Jonathan's age. They seem like nice people, but Angela and I haven't really socialized as a couple, or our family as a family, because of our fuzzy status. Hopefully, that will change after we're officially married.

Anyway, the Seavers are well-liked and so everyone is very sad to hear they're moving. And the thing is, he's the treasurer, so now there are two openings on the Association board.

"I nominate Wendy Wittener for secretary," Angela says.

"I second it," I say. I have no idea if Wendy can take notes or anything, but what the heck. She's Angela's friend, so that's good enough for me.

Joanne does that fake little laugh of hers. "I'm afraid we haven't opened up the floor for nominations yet."

"I vote we open up the floor for nominations," says Mr. Seaver with a mischievous smile.

Wendy gets the position and seems happy about it. Then when it's time for the nominations for treasurer, she says, "I nominate Tony Micelli."
"I second it," Angela says immediately.

"I'm sorry, but we can't have non-members of the Association as candidates," Joanne says.

"Joanne," Angela says, putting on her "business" voice, "as I'm sure you know, any parent of a child enrolled in the Fairfield Public School system is eligible for membership in the group, whose name of course is 'Parents' Association.' "

"Yes, that's true, Angela, but Mr. Micelli has not in fact applied for membership, nor has he paid the annual dues."

"How much are the dues?" I whisper to Wendy.

"Twenty dollars."

"Oh." I don't have that much on me right now.

"I'll cover it, Tony, don't worry about it," Angela says quietly.

"Are there any other candidates?" Joanne asks, sounding a bit desperate.

No one suggests anyone.

"Well, seeing as Mr. Micelli is about to be qualified and there's no opposition, I'm happy to turn over my treasurer's hat—"

"There's a hat?"

"Figure of speech," Angela mutters.

"Oh."

"Yes, Jason, Mr. Micelli is, or will be, technically qualified, but I wonder about whether he's really qualified."

"Excuse me?" Angela says indignantly.

"Well, really, Angela, he doesn't have enough money to pay the dues for membership, and yet he's the highest-paid housekeeper in the neighborhood!"

"I am?"

"That doesn't say much for Mr. Micelli's ability to manage money."

"Uh, I'm right here. You don't have to refer to me in the third person."

"All right then, Mr. Micelli. I also question whether you have the morals to belong to the Parents' Association."

A collective gasp fills the room. Wow, she went there!

"Tony's morals are as good as yours, Joanne," Angela says.

"That means so much coming from his 'housemate' and employer."

"And his fiancée. We're getting married in a week, not that that has anything to do with his eligibility for the Association of course."

"True. And he has another job, doesn't he? Mr. Micelli, are you not in fact the Tony Micelli who plays second-base for the St. Louis Cardinals?"

Well, that wins over some of the guys in the room, including Jason Seaver.

And Mrs. Seaver asks, "Do you have a problem with baseball, Joanne?"
"Yeah," Wendy says, "that's like being anti-mom and apple pie."
"I think baseball is a wonderful sport, Maggie. However, it's notorious how athletes behave on the road. Mr. Micelli, do you deny that you have ever frolicked with groupies?"

"Joanne, please stop acting like a prosecuting attorney," Angela says. "Tony is a grown man and what he did while he was single is really not anyone's business, except mine."

"Angela, I think you're too biased to understand what Tony joining the Association would mean."

"You're right, Joanne, I am biased. I see that Tony is kind and patient and far more intelligent than most people realize. They're put off by his Brooklyn accent, or his jobs, or his lack of higher education. But I can think of no one would who could better serve this community or its children than the man who is trying to make a better life for his little girl, and the man who is caring for my precious son every day."

"Yes, about his little girl. His daughter—"

"His daughter reacted to some spiteful gossip that should never have reached the ears of a kindergartner. She reacted like any child would whose family was threatened, but she has apologized for it."

"Yes, but—"

"Hey, can I say something?"
"You have the floor, Mr. Micelli," Joanne says coldly.

"I'd be happy to serve as treasurer, but really, I just want to join the Parents' Association. Sam, that's my daughter, loves her teacher and she's learning a lot. She's really bright but it was hard for her to thrive in Brooklyn. She's thriving here. I just want to give back to the school, to the community. Thank you."
Wendy bursts into applause, which is embarrassing, but kind of nice.

I'll spare you the procedural stuff. The short version, I join the Association and get elected treasurer in a landslide.

Out in the parking lot, we wish the Seavers good luck on their move. They wish us luck on our marriage and then they tell us that Joanne fought them becoming Association officers a few years ago.

"What on earth did she have against you two?" Angela asks.

"Yeah, you're a nice, clean-cut couple."
"She doesn't trust psychiatry," Jason says.

"And she thought I was an unfit mother because I was working at the time."

"But we stood up to her, just like you two did tonight."

"Right. She needs to know that this is not her Association. It belongs to everyone."

"So," Mona says when we get home, "did you put the T & A into the PTA?" We both glare at her for making a joke like that in front of the kids. "What? I meant 'Tony and Angela.' "
"Was it a nice meeting, Daddy?"

"Yeah, I'm the new treasurer."

"Like a pirate?"

"No, not that kind of treasure, Honey."

"Oh."

"Tweazuh."

After Angela and I put the kids to bed, we go back downstairs to Mona, who wants to hear all the dirt.

"You know what's funny?" she says when we're done.

"What?" I ask. "That Joanne hasn't a clue that Angela and I are married in Nevada and South Carolina?"

"That and the fact that you're going to have to quit when Spring training starts."

Angela and I look at each other.

"I think we won't mention that till February," Angela says and I nod.