A New Horizon

Angela was resting on the couch, her head and feet propped up by a few pillows, a blanket covering her from chin to toe. She was toasty warm and blissfully languid, both of mind and body. After the nonstop hassle of the past few days, she couldn't be more thankful for the absolute quiet throughout the house.

Though it was barely eight o'clock, Billy was sound asleep, Jonathan was tucked inside his room catching up on schoolwork, Sam was back at the dorm, and Mona was unpacking in her apartment. And Tony? That was a good question, Angela thought to herself. Where was he? She hadn't seen him since just after they'd pulled into the driveway a few hours earlier, a group of six tired and cranky travelers, all sore from the train ride and glad to be home.

The trip to Washington had been beneficial in many ways, and a lot of fun, but the cost had been high. In three days, they had seen every major monument, toured four Smithsonian museums, and had eaten every sweet, sticky, and meltable confection room service offered. Sam was sullen most of the time after her breakup with Matt, and Jonathan and Billy spent an increasing amount of time bickering with one another as fatigue took its toll. And Angela was left to handle it all while Tony was off being wined and dined by slick politicians, and one very sexy aide.

The presence of Christine had done nothing but cause Angela to fret, worry, pout, and suffer from nonstop insomnia when she thought of losing Tony to yet another perky, confidant, sexy woman who had set her sights on him. She'd nearly lost him that way once, and she feared that without her mother's advice, she may have sat back and watched it happen again. Why was she so willing to let Tony go without so much as one word of protest? Why wasn't she willing to tell him her true feelings?

Because she wanted him to love her enough to not go.

Would he ever feel that way? She didn't know.

But maybe she was finally finding her voice. When she'd confronted Christine, her palms had been dry, her heartbeat steady, her voice firm and even. She wasn't scared or shy, and she was certain of what she was doing. But after she'd left Tony standing in that dressing room, her knees had threatened to give out on her. One little kiss, and she was mush. His lips had been so warm and soft, and felt so familiar, as they did every time she touched her own to them. But this kiss had a message. She was telling Tony that they were at a place where such actions were acceptable. She told Christine that she and Tony were good together, and that was true, but she wanted to get better.

The front door opened quietly, and Angela craned her neck to see Tony slip inside.

"Hey there," she said by way of a greeting in barely more than a whisper. "Where've you been?"

"Oh, here and there," he said evasively. "Listen, Angela, I'm sorry about leaving you to take care of the kids." He crossed over to her and eased down next to her on the couch as she shifted into a sitting position.

"That's okay. Billy was asleep before he got his pajamas on, and I suspect Jonathan's already passed out since I haven't heard so much as a floorboard creak in more than an hour."

"They were pretty tired."

"We all were. It was quite a trip, and traveling is always hard."

"Yeah."

Tony stopped there. He had more to say, and had every intention of saying it, but as was the case every time he wanted to talk about Angela and him, his voice seemed to take a temporary vacation, along with his brain.

Somehow they'd managed to pack their things and make the train ride home without once talking about what had happened in the make-up room at the studio in Washington. There hadn't seemed to be any awkwardness between them, but Tony had wanted to say something to her – he just didn't know what. So he'd gone off to think, circling the streets of Fairfield, streets that were now as familiar to him as those in Brooklyn, thinking about Angela. She'd kissed him, deliberately, softly, after telling him that she liked him. What did that mean, "I like you"? Of course she liked him, and he liked her. They were best friends. But maybe …

Tired of driving, he'd stopped at Joe's Tavern, the same place Angela had gone when she'd nearly let her sleep talking ruin her birthday a few years back. And while they'd managed escape that delicate situation unscathed, Tony had often thought about what would have happened if he'd have been able to admit that they shared more than appliances. He decided that he didn't want to spend the next three years wondering the same about this moment.

"Ah, Angela," he began before the silence that stretched before them caused her to end the evening before he was ready. "I've been doing some thinking tonight. That's why I snuck out after we got home. What you said – and did – back in Washington, well, I just want you to know it meant a lot to me."

"It meant a lot to me, too, Tony. You mean a lot to me," she said honestly, trusting it wasn't too much. She hadn't anticipated him bringing up their conversation again, and was caught a little off guard.

"Listen, I want you to know, I wasn't interested in Christine. Sure, she was pretty, and sexy, and smart and —"

"I get the picture," she interrupted dryly, but amused. Tony never could miss a pretty face.

He smiled. "The point is, I wasn't interested in her like that. I had more fun on the helicopter than at dinner with her. And I missed you."

He stopped there, afraid to go on. Afraid to stop. They each sensed there was a crossroad looming, an opportunity to talk about what they were to each other – and what they wanted to be. But did they have the courage to say the words that were swimming in their heads?

Finally, he continued, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you didn't have to show or tell me anything. I'm not going anywhere." There, it was out, what he'd longed to tell her for quite a while was finally said. He wasn't going anywhere.

But rather than look relieved, she looked crushed.

So, he was content the way things were and didn't want anything more, she lamented. She didn't have to kiss him. But what if she wasn't content with an exclusive, platonic friendship? What if she wanted affection and intimacy and a real relationship? It was selfish and unfair of him to expect her to give up all the things that made being in a relationship so special just because he was afraid of changing the status quo. He said he wasn't going anywhere, but they problem was, she wanted him to go somewhere – with her. Calling on the reserve of courage she had been so proud of a day earlier, Angela spoke up, determined not to let things fester and go unsaid any longer. What good had keeping her feelings inside done her in the last seven years?

"Tony, I think that's the problem, WE are not going anywhere. For seven years, we've been in this limbo, and I'm sick of other women thinking and acting like you're available. I mean, technically, you are, and if you want to be, that's fine, but I need to know. I don't want to be unsure what my role is when another woman shows interest in you."

She forced back the tears that were threatening to spill over. It had been a long day, and she was tired, not just physically either. She had only wanted to remind him that she was there, and that she was waiting, as she'd been for two years since he'd asked her to let him sort out his life. Did he expect her to wait forever, or to be content with what they had?

"That's just it," he said softly, taking her hand in his. "I don't want to be available. That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"You don't?" she asked cautiously.

"No. And it took me half a tank of gas tonight to finally get up the nerve to tell you. You really caught me off guard me back in Washington, but I began thinking, maybe you were right, maybe we don't tell each other how we feel as much as we should. Maybe we do take too much for granted. You said a while back that maybe we needed to expand our horizon. Well, I think we both agree that didn't work out." She offered a pained smile, but remained silent, allowing him to continue. "So, why don't we see how things go if we narrow it, to each other?"

It was the most he'd said about their relationship in a long time, and a part of him couldn't believe he'd gotten it out. He still had reservations about them as a couple, but at some point he had come to accept that there was more than attraction between them, and if they'd made it through so much and still maintained a friendship, maybe they could try for a little bit more.

"Tony, are you asking me to go steady?" The tears that had been threatening had quickly dried up and were replaced with a smile borne of a joy she hadn't counted on feeling this evening. Still, seven years of conditioning had her lightening the mood with a joke before things got too serious.

Tony smiled back, amused as much by her quick change of tone as by the incredibly juvenile phrasing she'd chosen.

"Well, I guess you could call it that. What d'ya say?"

"I say that's the best offer I've ever had."

"Me too. So, no more dates with other people," he suggested.

"And no more saying there nothing between us," she added.

"Deal?"

"Deal."

But when Angela stuck out her hand to "seal the deal," Tony hesitated. Then, slowly, he met her eyes, all humor gone as he quickly licked his lips and began to lean toward her, his movements underscored by fearful courage and determined hesitancy. He was a living contradiction, afraid of what he was feeling but wanting so much to feel more. Centimeter by agonizing centimeter they moved toward each other, eyes locked in anticipation. Angela's eyes instinctively closed an instant before she felt the warm pressure of his mouth on hers. The kiss lasted only moments, but time seemed to have stopped. When Tony pulled back, Angela sat immobilized. Even as her eyelids fluttered open, the feel of him lingered so clearly she nearly expected to find him still kissing her.

They both knew there was more to be said, but not tonight. Tonight, enough – more than enough – had happened. They had taken a step, perhaps the most significant of their relationship and neither dared ask for more. The rest could wait until they learned how to navigate this subtly new terrain.

Silently, Angela turned and leaned back against Tony, who gently placed his arm around her shoulders, resting his lips on the crown of her head. Taking the remote, Angela flipped directly to the classic movie channel and smiled as they both recognized the opening credits of "An Affair to Remember."

Years later, neither would remember this night with the same shocking clarity as the events that would take place a scant few months later in a deserted tunnel of love. But this night was the beginning, an acknowledgement that the time for more was drawing close. To those around them, their behavior barely changed. They maintained the same casual friendship and easy camaraderie, but when a woman in one of Tony's summer classes slipped him her phone number on some notes he'd asked to borrow, he gently explained that he was seeing someone. And when Andy called to see if there was room in Angela's life for him yet, she said she wasn't available to resume their relationship. She was a bit startled when he pointedly asked her if it was Tony, but replied truthfully, smiling to herself the whole time.

It was an easy time for them, filled with fun nights out and just as many enjoyed in. Summer brought quiet evenings in their favorite spot under the oak tree watching the stars blink on across the sky. Picnics and baseball games were weekly occurrences, giving them time to enjoy the old-fashioned courtship that suited them so well. On a playful trip to the beach with the whole family, they strolled hand-in-hand along the boardwalk and were surprised on their last night there when the first vibrant strokes of dawn reached across the Atlantic to caress them as they talked and laughed about summers gone by.

It had been the perfect transition from what they had been to what they were on the path to becoming. But as with all seasons, summer began to fade, marked first by everyone's return to school, then with the annual commemoration they had come to think of as "their anniversary." And suddenly, standing in a quaint little watch shop under the pretense of replacing a battery, Angela knew that it was time to take the step that they hadn't been ready for in the spring. As she instructed the shopkeeper to engrave on the watch the words she had longed to tell Tony for four years, she could only hope that after the idyllic summer they had shared, he was as ready as she was.